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Chapter Text

“Well fuck, Princess. I don't think this is where we meant to land.” Hermione shot a glare at Draco that promised retribution, as soon as they got out of the mess they’d landed themselves in this time. “Think this was Potters doing?” He winced the moment the question was out of his mouth as pain flashed across her face. “Of course it was.” she replied softly, allowing him to wrap her in his arms as both of them ignored the wands pointed their way.

“I’ve never met them!” a voice protested loudly behind her, “This isn't my fault!”

“I don't believe it was our doing either.” Another voice followed, reminding Draco viscerally of his mother. 

Hermione unwound herself from Draco, turning slowly to face the group of people who were staring at them with a mix of curiosity, fear and hostility. 

“Perhaps we should allow them to explain.” Minerva ventured looking over the two people standing in front of them. They were filthy, emaciated and haunted looking. Their clothes were tattered enough to indicate that they’d been worn for some time and she didn’t want to imagine how long it would take the girl to comb through the matted mess on her head. Neither of them had moved for their wands but she noticed the twitch of their fingers that suggested they’d have them in hand in seconds if needed and the wary way they watched the room, their sides pressed tightly against each other. Neither of them looked older than the students who had just graduated but she knew she hadn’t seen these two before in her life.

“And how do we know they’re telling the truth?” Moody growled.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Lets not pretend you don't have veritaserum on hand, Alastor.”

Moody flinched “And just how do you know who I am?” He demanded, his posture immediately defensive as another shocked ripple flowed through the room.

Hermione shot a look at Draco, communicating something silently that had Minerva intrigued. Before she could open her mouth to redirect, Moody shot a hex at them. The effect was instantaneous. Minerva watched in horrified fascination as the children, the bedraggled, starved looking children immediately morphed into soldiers, their faces shutting down completely as their stances changed and the girl fired up a shield charm before she could blink, the boy shooting off an incarcerous with the girl following up with an expelliarmus and the boy stunning the crotchety Auror to end the threat. Neither relaxed even with Moody incapacitated. She knew without asking that these children had fought before. And that thought made her heart sore. No child should ever look like that.

“I think that perhaps we should all lower our wands.” Albus suggested mildly, his eyes roaming over the interlopers with a gleam Minerva wasn't sure she liked, his mind clearly turning over possibilities. Neither of the children moved, their body's screaming distrust as they pressed themselves closer together and held their wands steady. 

“I think not.” The boy answered coldly. “Its been a bit of rough few years and I’d hate to have survived this long to be taken out by one of your little birds who couldn't be bothered to wait on a fucking explanation.” 

“To be fair, you did just appear in a building that is secret kept.” Dumbledore answered mildly. “And no one appears to have any idea who you are. It's…rather suspicious, wouldn't you say?”

“All the more reason not to fucking kill us and allow us to give you answers, wouldn't you say?” the girl growled mockingly. “Christ, no wonder it turned into such a fucking shit show. How the fuck did anyone get any information if no one actually bothered to fucking ask?”

The boy snorted, “That year in a tent did wonderful things for your vocabulary, Princess.”

“Fuck off, Ferret.” she growled. “Remind me why I brought you along?”

“Because I was the only one left?” he suggested with a smirk that belied the grief that showed on his face and the flash of devastation on hers.

“Ah. Yes I suppose that would do it.” She replied, rolling her eyes. 

“If we could administer the vertiuserum now.” Dumbledore interjected. 

“Prove that that's what it is.” The girl's chin tilted, her hard eyes landing on the man she blamed for all of this. He was momentarily taken aback by the loathing he saw on her face, he had never seen this girl before and had no idea what she thought he had done. Perhaps it would be wise to be circumspect with his questioning while they were under veritaserum, just in case. He knew some of the decisions he had made, while necessary, would not be popular with the Order and he needed their compliance. Ignoring the murmurs of discontent from the assembled group he placed a drop on his tongue. 

“Your full name.” the boy bit out. 

“Albus Percival Wulfic Brian Dumbledore”

“How long were you and Grindelwald lovers?” the girl stared him down, even as he fought the compulsion. Around him several people were murmuring in clear surprise .

“A little over a month,” he gasped. 

“Apparently it really is veritaserum.” the girl quipped, ignoring the boy shaking his head at her with exasperated fondness and the shocked faces of Dumbledore's chosen who were struggling to process the bomb she’d just forced Albus to drop. 

“One drop then,” Minerva announced, taking the vial from a seething Albus and moving towards the children once she had regathered her wits. They watched her warily but didn't move for their wands, once she was in touching distance the girl dropped her shield and allowed Minerva to administer the potion. 

“Your full names.”

“Hermione Jean Potter.”

“Draco Lucius Malfoy.”

There was a hiss around the room when Draco finished that overrode the sheer shock of hearing Hermione's name. Three people in particular watched her more closely, all of them searching for some sort of resemblance, even if none of them were sure where on Earth she could have come from.

“Your date of birth.” Minerva prompted, her eyes on Hermione first.

“Nineteenth of September 1979.”

“Fifth of June 1980”

The entire room went still and silent. 

“Why are you here?”

“Specifically here?” the girl clarified, struggling against the potions compulsion at Minerva’s nod she continued, “We don't actually know. We think Harry might have had something to do with our location.”

“And in this….year?”

“We intend to defeat Tom Riddle before he decimates our world.” 

She nodded as if that made any sense, like she knew who this Harry was, like it was acceptable for children to be planning to end this war, before she administered the antidote.

“What actually is the date?” the boy…Draco…asked looking around the room at the stunned faces of the Order.

“Fifteenth of June 1979.”
“Ah. Later than we intended.” Hermione mused. 

“But still in enough time for the cave.” Draco murmured back. 

“But still in enough time for the cave.” she agreed, ignoring the confused looks around them. 

“Are you….do you expect us to believe this?” A man called from the back. Hermione squinted. 

“Mr….Dodge?” she ventured. 

“How the blazes did you guess that girl?”

“Because I've had a photo of the first order memorised since my fifth year and…well I met you once. A few years ago. You should moisturise, you know. It’ll help your skin, stop you looking quite so much like a shar pei. You do not age well.”

Draco closed his eyes as if praying for patience. “Weasley did your manners no favours, Princess.” he groaned.
“Starving and being hunted did my manners no favours.” she bit back. “This lot fucked it all up spectacularly, forgive me if I’m a little bitchy.”

“A little bitchy,” he muttered disbelievingly. “We want them on our side Princess, you could at least try to help with that.”
“Do we?” 

“And why would you not, young lady!” The voice that had reminded Draco of Narcissa rejoined the conversation. His eyes landed on a woman who was quite clearly a Black although he had no idea what one; she looked startlingly like his Aunt Andromeda. Her face was pale as she focused on Hermione. 

“Did you not hear me mention that you lot fucked it up?” Hermione replied pointedly, refusing to back down. “Do you think we look like this for fun? I’ve been dealing with this fucking war since I was twelve, so forgive me if I wonder if perhaps we’re best just figuring shit out on our own, after all that was his fucking brilliant plan in our time.” she gestured briefly at Albus who looked momentarily surprised which only seemed to increase her vitriol.  “Don't bother with that look you meddling old coot, you sent us off to fucking die. An entire generation of fucking children fighting a fucking adults war. It wasn't any of you starving in a fucking tent, being hunted by Death Eaters, on a fucking mission from the Great and Wise Albus Dumbledore to find little bits of a madman's soul with nothing more than a fucking children's book, a snitch and a contraption he invented that puts out the fucking lights to help us! Most of you wont live to see the end of what we called the first fucking war. And for the few that have the dubious honour of managing that, you sure as fuck don't survive the second.”

The room regarded her with horror as even Draco winced at her bluntness. It answered the question as to whether she was still angry at the Headmaster he supposed. Not that he could blame her. The man had destroyed their lives.

“Pieces of a madman's soul?” The man sat next to the woman from earlier spoke. He looked like Harry Hermione briefly mused. Or he looked like Harry if Harry had gotten a chance to grow up. It was hard to ignore how much that hurt.

“Horcruxes. The madman has….five I think in this time.” She looked at Draco briefly for confirmation.

“How the fuck does a Malfoy come to be on our side of the war?” A boy spat, glaring at them both. Hermione’s eyes widened as she took him in, tears appearing against her will.

“Padfoot.” she whispered, her hand curving into a fist on her chest, pressing into it as if trying to alleviate a physical pain. The boy stared back at her, his jaw dropping. 

“Where did you hear that?” 

Draco glared at him over the top of her head, pulling her tighter into his side as she began sobbing. “From you you fucking idiot. From the future remember? “ he growled before whispering into Hermione's hair, “Hush now Princess, you can't fall apart just yet. You can't. Where's that Gryffindor stubbornness you're so famous for? If Bella couldnt break you this won't.” He felt her nod against him but refused to let her go.
“Bella? My cousin Bella?” Sirius asked, clear horror on his face.

Hermione flinched, “We were…caught. Bella was part of the welcome party.” She murmured.

Several people in the room looked uncomfortable at that announcement. 

“I think that's enough.” Minerva finally gained control of her voice. “We will obviously need some answers and I do hope that you’ll allow us to help you but in the meantime, both of you look like you could use a bath and a hot meal. Dorea?”

The woman who looked like Andromeda looked momentarily startled, “Of course. Come with me.” Draco and Hermione cautiously followed the woman from the room, wincing at the noise that erupted behind them. “Are you my granddaughter?” the woman asked suddenly, her eyes searching Hermione's face as if looking for some familial resemblance. 

“No.” she replied softly. “Or….maybe but not exactly?”

Draco rolled his eyes, “Want to be more specific, Princess? I’d expect an answer like that from Lovegood, not you.” Hermione snorted before she tensed again, her eyes seeing the pale skin and unseeing blue eyes of the friend she had not yet had time to mourn. “Fuck, sorry Princess.” Draco murmured, dropping a kiss onto her head. “It won't happen this time, I promise. We won’t let it.” 

She nodded blankly, ignoring the tears as Dorea looked on horrified, wondering what these children had seen. And how on Earth they were going to recover from it.

“Your grandson…adopted me. We’d been like siblings for years.” Hermione whispered eventually, “But when we had no family left…we needed a tangible connection.” 

“No family?” Dorea asked, horrified. Hermone shook her head, the tears falling faster now, unable to verbalise the horrors she knew they were going to have to explain later. “You have family now.” the woman replied fiercely, pulling her into a tight hug, making her yelp. “You’re a Potter. My grandson viewed you as family and that makes you my granddaughter and I won't hear another word about it, are we clear?”

Giving into the nightmares of the last year and her desperate need to feel like someone, anyone, was actually looking after them, Hermione sunk into the woman and sobbed. 

Inside the drawing room of Potter Manor, chaos erupted. Ignoring it, a dark haired boy found the older version of himself and moved towards him. 

“Dad?” At his fathers questioning look James continued, “She said she was a Potter.”

Charlus hummed, “Which is precisely why your mother has gone with them.”

James nodded slowly. “Do…do you think she's my daughter? She didn't act like she knew me…or you and mum but she knew Sirius.”

Sirius moved to stand beside him. “What the fuck happened to them? She…she knew me.”

“I think we got that.” Another voice commented wryly from beside him. 

“No but Moony…she…fuck I was dead wasn't I?” he asked in horror as his mind processed the way the girl had looked at him before she’d begun crying.
“I got the impression we were all dead.” Remus replied softly. “Do you think what she said about Dumbledore was true?”

Charlus sighed, eyeing his boys. “Yes.” he admitted reluctantly, the look on the girl's face as she had stared down the Headmaster had unnerved him. Then again given their appearance he wasn't surprised at her hostility. His eyes drifted over to where Albus was fending off questions from various unimpressed members, all of them clearly questioning, pulling apart what little the teenagers had said, and probably more likely, the way in which it had been said. Charlus was sure that no one had spoken to Albus like that in his life. It was going to be a long night. 

“What did I miss?” a bright voice asked as Lily wrapped her arms around James from behind, her eyes clearly scanning the room in confusion. 

All of the boys snorted, “I don't think you’d believe us if we told you Lily-flower.” James replied honestly, running a hand through his already messy hair. “What do you think of the name Hermione?”

Lily scrunched up her nose. “In regards to what?”

“Our daughter obviously.”
“Oh obviously.” Lily replied, looking at Remus for help.

Remus sighed, “Two people appeared out of thin air claiming to be from the future. They took veritaserum to confirm their names and dates of birth. Hermione Potter was born on the 19th of September 1979.” He answered the unspoken question gently. 

Lily paled dramatically. “And you think she's ours?” She asked James incredulously.

James shrugged, “I’m the last Potter. I don't know who else she could belong to.”

Lily's eyes found Charlus’ who winced but sighed before agreeing, “I cannot find another explanation.”

“Where is she?”

“Lils…She…fuck.” James floundered. 

“She looks ill.” Sirius cut in brutally, his face blank. “She…Merlin, she’s clearly been fighting for quite some time and she mentioned having met Bellatrix. I gather from the way the boy she brought with her held her so fucking tightly his knuckles were white that it wasnt a friendly meeting. Neither of them look like they have eaten properly in months, given how fucking thin they were and they’re fucking filthy and jumpy and appear to hate Dumbledore more than I think I hate Walburga.”
“What boy?” Lily asked sharply, already bristling at the thought of her mysterious daughter being involved with a boy. “And…why would they hate Dumbledore? Are they going to be alright?”

“A bloody Malfoy.” Sirius scoffed. “And I have no idea.”

“I don't think I understand.” Lily replied faintly. 

Charlus’ eyes found Minerva and Dorea as they reappeared, making a beeline for them.
“How are they?”

Both women looked pained. “They refused to leave each other.”
“I thought you were taking them for a bath and clean clothing?” he asked, confused. 

“We did. When it was suggested that perhaps separate bathrooms would be better we were told that they’d lived together in a tent for months, they were hardly unaware of what the other looked like naked.” Dorea confessed reluctantly. “They did however assure me that nothing inappropriate would happen because quite frankly they were….and I quote…fucking shattered and sore from their last battle.” she sighed, “They’re more like feral animals than teenagers, we decided not to fight them on it tonight. Whatever happened….” she swallowed harshly. “Whatever happened is so far beyond what we can imagine. Their scars…..Hermione, she…broke, almost at the first bit of kindness, I get the impression that they’ve grown used to relying on themselves.” 

Charlus flinched as the group of listening teens paled. “Is she ours?”

Dorea inclined her head. “Yes. Our grandson adopted her, as far as I’m concerned she's ours.”

“Our grandson….” he trailed off. “Why?”

“She said they had no family left and needed something tangible.” Dorea replied softly, looking close to tears. 

“And the boy?” 

“Lucius Malfoy's son. I’m still not sure where he fits in to be honest beyond that that girl trusts him which is good enough for me. He…he knows what she needs without her having to say it. I have no idea what their relationship actually is, although it's clear he loves her, and she him, I’m just not sure in what capacity.”
Charlus hummed. “How old are they?”

Minerva flinched. “They’re eighteen, him only just, she’ll be nineteen soon.” 

“Sweet Merlin. Barely of age.” Charlus murmured. “Did they say anything else?”

Dorea shook her head. “They don't know me. They appear to know Minerva, so perhaps we can work with that. Clearly, Hermione knows Sirius, it's worth seeing if she knows any of the others, she appeared to be fond of him.” Sirius looked momentarily apprehensive before he nodded and Dorea continued, her voice faint as a look of pain flashed over her face, “After her moment of weakness, Hermione clammed up again and…she apologised for her lack of control. She….looks like that and she apologised for crying. I cant…I can't even imagine what they’ve lived through for that to be seen as a normal response.”

“What's going to happen to them?” James asked softly.

Dorea and Minerva shared a look. “We’re hoping to convince them to stay here. I don't like the idea of them going off on their own but well…you saw how wary they were.”

“The boy…Draco seems…practical in a way I think Hermione is still too angry to be.” Minerva ventured. “I think he’ll convince her if we can convince him. She seems to listen to him.”

Dorea hummed, “You might be right. I’m going to go and check on them, I think.”

James snorted, “In case they’re up to no good?” he teased, trying to lighten the mood that was threatening to suffocate them, even if he was still slightly stunned his mother had left them in the first place.

Dorea shot him a withering look. “In case they need any help.” she replied waspishly. “They might have intended to leave their reality but that doesn't mean they were truly prepared for it. I get the impression they had no choice. And that’s before we consider the fact that neither of them looks to have had enough food for months. Merlin only knows how weak they truly are. I do not think they’d tell us even if they were near collapse.”

James winced, looking immediately repentant. “Sorry, Mum.” he called at her retreating back, leaving the group to process these new revelations, none of them really sure what to say.

Chapter Text

“How horrified do you think they are?” Hermione murmured, lying back in the enormous bathtub as she suppressed the urge to groan. The water felt better than she could ever have imagined so she tried to ignore the internal voice that reminded her it had been over a year since her last bath and that if the Order decided not to take them seriously, it might be longer than that until her next one. Despite what Dorea had said about her being family, she wasn’t naive enough to believe that that would definitely hold firm in the face of Hermione's accusations against the supposed Leader of the Light.

Draco snorted, “I imagine pretty horrified. I predict that Great-Aunt Dorea is imagining all sorts of depraved things we’re up to in here. Although I’m going to be honest Granger, I don't think I have the energy to do anything other than lie here.”

Hermione laughed, “You say that like you’d consider it if we weren't so fucked.”

He arched a brow and waggled it, “Interesting turn of phrase, Princess. You mean you’re not unbearably turned on by the emaciated, filthy look?”

Hermione was laughing properly now, “Sorry Ferret. Put on a few stone and I’ll think about it.”

He poked at her bony hip, “Liar. I’m a Malfoy, why wouldn't you want me?”

She looked at him pointedly, “I think you might have answered your own question, Malfoy .” 

His smile turned predatory, “Liar.” he growled, making her shiver before he lent down and kissed her, “You love me.”

She sighed, snuggling closer to his bony body, “Unfortunately, I do. I love you more when we’re not fucking starving and covered in months worth of dirt though.”

“So shallow Princess,” he murmured, pulling her closer as he allowed his body to relax for the first time in what felt like years. 

Hermione hummed, “You love me anyway.” 

“So I do.” he agreed, reaching for his wand. “I’m just setting an alarm.” he explained at her questioning look. “Ten minutes and then we get clean and dressed and start horrifying Dumbledore's little birds.”

She sighed, not really ready for what was coming, before she nodded, cuddling back into him, ignoring how much it hurt when their bones collided, “Fine. Ten minutes.”

The knock came just as Draco was attempting to work the matts from her hair with more conditioner than most people used in a month. “Are you alright?”

Stifling a laugh and ignoring Draco’s pointed smirk she replied to her…grandmother. “Fine. We’ll be out in a moment, my hair is putting up a bit of a fight.”

“I know some charms for that, you know?” The woman ventured. 

Rolling his eyes at the way Hermione's eyes lit up, Draco began rinsing. “They’re mostly out, Princess, but don't let me keep you from new charms.”

Dodging her hand as she hit him was difficult in the confines of the bath but he still tried, laughing slightly as he failed miserably. Pointedly ignoring him she rose from the bath with exaggerated dignity and moved towards the towels left for them. 

“Gods I’d forgotten how clean feels.” she groaned, wrapping one around her, waiting until he copied her to open the door. 

Dorea barely contained her horrified gasp. Now clean, it was easy to see the toll the war had taken on their bodies. More scars than she could count littered their skin, bones were clearly visible and neither of them looked in any way healthy. It was worse than she had realised, their clothes and the dirt having hidden many of the marks. She tried not to think about how they’d gotten them or how new many of them looked.

“I’ve left you some clothes out in a room. I assume you wish to share?” 

“Yes.” they replied firmly, following after her. 

“We can….adjust them so they fit.” she said faintly. “I’ll wait outside, Once you’re dressed we can tackle that hair.”

Hermione nodded, reaching for the first set of clean clothing she’d touched in months. The jeans gaped like she was a child playing dress up, sighing, she moved to stand in front of the mirror, waving her wand until they resized enough to stay up before moving to grab the top and doing the same, Draco mirroring her movements beside her. 

“Huh. I think I like you in seventies fashion Princess.”

Her eyes travelled down his body. “You’re wearing jeans.” she said dumbly. 

He snorted, “Yes, I don't think I like me quite so much in seventies fashion.”

Grinning at him, Hermione deliberately ogled him.”I don't know. I think I quite like it. Although it would definitely be improved with some leather, up for it?”

Draco choked on air. “You keep looking at me like that Princess, and we won't be leaving this room. Nosy Great-Aunts and unreasonable amounts of protruding bones aside.”  

Hermione just laughed,knowing he was in no way serious as she pushed past him to open the door, allowing Dorea to enter. 

“Right, let's try this.” she began the moment she was allowed entry, sweeping her wand in movements so quickly, Hermione had no hope of following. Her hair dried, falling in silky, tangle free curls down her back.

“Wow. Will you teach me?”

“Tomorrow.” Dorea ventured. “We were hoping you’d agree to stay, at the very least for tonight.”

Hermione shot a look at Draco. “Where exactly are we?” he asked, casting his eyes around the room.

“Potter Manor.” 

“Ah.” he replied slowly, “It's up to you Princess.”

Hermione looked longingly back at the bed before she straightened her spine. “Let's see how tonight goes before we make any decisions.” she said finally.

Both Dorea and Draco nodded, the latter moving to take her hand. “Ready to face the birdies, Princess?”

“Not in the fucking slightest,” she grinned, “Lets go.”

Rolling his eyes and muttering about stubborn fucking Gryffindors, he followed her out, Dorea trailing behind them, not sure at all what to make of her new granddaughter and what she assumed was her great-great nephew. Even Sirius hadn’t prepared her for this. 

“Ah you’re looking much better,” Dumbledore twinkled at them when they re-entered the room, the look Hermione shot him was deadly, making him falter slightly. He’d barely convinced the Order to stop asking him questions, he wasn't sure he could deal with more insolence. “I ah…unless I’ve gravely misunderstood, you can help us?”

“We can,” she agreed. “We just haven't decided if we will yet.”

“Now see here, young lady!” a woman protested from the back, “You cannot seriously be considering not helping?”

Hermione stared her down, Draco guarding her back, his eyes flicking around the room ensuring there was no immediate threat. “You are?”
“Morag Mckinnon.”

“Ah. Well Madam McKinnon, we can be considering not helping because as I’ve already said you lot fucked it all up and left it for a group of children to fucking fix. So…we either do this our way, and I mean our way, not some half arsed version to keep us quiet, or we do this without you.” she paused, her eyes closing briefly before she turned to look Dumbledore straight in the eye. “We lost everything and almost everyone. Draco and I are the last ones left because you gave us nothing to go on. The secrets you kept….the things and people you manipulated…..I wont allow it again. So I mean it. Our way, without fucking question or you can fuck off.”

“Such language.” Someone muttered. “I’ve never heard such disrespect.”
“Respect is earned,” Hermione snarled, leaning back into Draco’s touch where he tried to soothe her.

“Then you’ll have to earn ours.” the person replied mulishly. “And it starts by showing some to your elders!”

“Right, well that answers that,” she said with a sigh. “We’ll be in touch when it's done.”

At that she turned and began to move from the room.

“Hermione! Wait.” Dorea looked frantic. “Please.”
Hermione shook her head. “No. I quite literally watched almost everyone I ever loved die. We were hunted, caught, tortured, almost killed, starving and living in goddamned fucking tent because that twinkly arsehole decided not to give us any fucking information. So no. We’re ending this; I will not allow the same thing to happen again.” she turned, pinning the man that had spoken with her gaze, her eyes seeing people who were no longer there before she continued “So you sit here in this comfortable room, safe in the knowledge that you’re doing something for the war effort, even if you’re fucking not, because the Great Albus Dumbledore cannot be wrong and I must have misunderstood. And when your time comes, think of this. He knows far, far more than has ever told you. In our timeline, he sent three teenagers on a fucking horcrux hunt without telling them anything, not what he thought they were, not where he thought they were, not how to destroy them. We were barely of age and had been told not to involve anyone else. We trusted him and look where it fucking got us. He let his spy kill him as a mercy because he was already dying without telling anyone he was in on the plan. He claimed it was to save a boy from doing it because he was trapped but despite that boy begging for a way out, he still decided to keep him living in a home with a fucking madman, witnessing things that no one should witness. Remember that he allowed an orphan to remain in an abusive home, insisted on it until he was of age, all to fulfill a prophecy. Remember that he allowed one of your own to rot in Azkaban for twelve years, without trial, despite knowing he was innocent. Remember that he knew there was a mole in the Order but didn't insist on magical means of keeping information private. Know that he allowed countless people to fucking die because we are all expendable as long as his grand plan is executed in the way he’s decided is right.”

The silence was almost deafening, many of the faces looked horrified. Dorea, Minerva and Lily all had tears streaming down their faces, all of the Order unable to tear their eyes away from the child soldier condemning the man, that up until that night, they would all have sworn was their best chance at ending this war. 

“I’m sorry.” Edgar Bones whispered, unable to tear his eyes away from hers. “I….Merlin. I’m sorry.”

Hermione froze before tilting her head, her eyes meeting the man who vaguely reminded her of Susan. “Are you?”
“Yes,” he sighed, “I…I am willing to listen if you would reconsider.”

Hermione shot a look at Draco, who shrugged slightly. “It's your call, Princess.”
She shook her head, “It's yours too”, she murmured back.

“It’ll be easier with more people.” 

“Assuming they listen.”

“Yes, assuming they listen. We need the rat anyway.”

Hermione's eyes widened. “So we do.” 

“What safeguards have you in place to ensure someone isn't spying on you?” Draco asked the room, knowing there was none, knowing they knew there were none given that Hermione had just pointed it out. He also knew they needed to hear their elected leader confirm it.

“Everyone is here because they believe in our aims, Mr Malfoy.” Dumbledore replied slightly patronisingly.

Draco snorted, “Yeah all except the spy, who’s feeding information back to Voldemort.”

Several faces paled. 

“There is no spy.” Dumbledore hastened to assure them.

“Isn’t there?” Draco asked idly as if they were discussing the weather. “Forgive me, but last time I checked, we have far fucking more of an idea of that happened in this war than you.” his voice turned colder. “She meant what she said. You listen or we walk and you let people die. Because despite not wanting to, we will not be here to ensure their safety and we both know that any information we leave will likely be ignored.” Albus looked momentarily stunned before he gave the briefest nod.

Hermione turned to face the Order before looking back at Draco for reassurance. He tightened his arm around her waist and she began, “Right, I want Peter Pettigrew, Severus Snape and Regulus Black.”

“Don't you think it's a bit early, Princess?” Draco murmured. 

“No….not if we show them. I think we should be ok.”
“They believe it now.”

“Not with the information we have.” 

Draco sighed, “I think you underestimate how paranoid my Godfather was.”

“Are you doubting my ability to prevent them speaking?”

Draco huffed out a laugh. “Never, Princess. You were taught by the best.”

Hermione snorted, “I surpassed the best several years ago.”

“You cannot be serious. One of those is a known Death Eater and the other a suspected one.”  Moody growled. 

Hermione hummed, “Ah, well, I’ll confirm for you then. All three are Death Eaters.”

“No!” A collective howl went up from James, Remus and Sirius and Hermione's face briefly softened.

“I’m sorry. Truly. But yes.” her eyes hardened, “And I’ve a long overdue appointment with Wormtail so I’m afraid I really am going to have to insist.”

Minerva shivered at the hate that took over the girl's eyes. Whatever Peter Pettigrew had done, this girl was going to make sure he regretted it. And despite not wanting to believe it, the look on Hermione's face forced her to confront the fact that she was telling the truth. Beside Dorea, four devastated teenagers looked lost, their faces showing varying degrees of disbelief. 

“I don't believe you.” Sirius stated firmly. 

Hermione's eyes met his before she sighed. “No, I imagine you don’t. But tell me…how much has he been saying about Remus’ order to infiltrate the packs? How often has he been cautioning you to be careful? And Moony. How often has he been reminding you about Sirius’ family? Dropping little hints of concern?” Both boys paled further. “Yeah. That's what I thought.” 

“Why Severus?” Lily asked quietly. 

Hermione tilted her head weighing up how truthful to be. “Has anyone got parchment?”
Startled by her avoidance, Lily blinked before Dorea produced a piece. 

“Thanks.” Waving her wand over it in several complicated patterns, Hermione handed it back. “I need everyone to sign it before we go any further.”

“Why?” Charlus asked curiously.

“Because if any of this information leaves this room I’ll know who it was.” Several eyes widened. 

“And if we don't want to sign it?” Morag McKinnon asked.

“Then we’ll modify your memory to remove us from it and allow you to leave.”

“You cannot just modify people's memory!” she spluttered. 

“I’ve done it before. I have no urge to be hunted again quite so soon.” Hermione replied coldly. “If nothing else, I’d at least like a few weeks of actual food and a real bed before we begin again; I will protect Draco and myself from it for as long as possible. So, yes. I can.”

Paling, the woman signed the parchment before passing it to her neighbour. Hermione kept a close eye on it as it made its way round the room until it stopped at Dumbledore. She allowed the silence to fall as he hesitated. “What if I need to speak to someone about this?”

“Then you clear it with us first.” 

He hummed, “You do not know everyone or their importance.”

“With all due respect, Professor, Draco has already pointed out we know more than you. Anyone you believe to be that important, as long as you explain why and, assuming we agree or it doesn't contradict something we know for sure, we can have them sign too so they can be told.”

Dumbledore didn't look pleased but he signed anyway. Draco reached for the parchment, stowing it in Hermione's handbag. 

Taking a deep breath, Hermione turned back towards Lily, “The reason I want Severus is that he spent almost his entire life working as a spy to bring Voldemort down. He deserved far, far better than he got. We owe him our lives more times than I want to count. He knew about our relationship long before anyone else, it was…dangerous and he helped us keep it hidden. He’s Draco’s Godfather and the closest thing to an Uncle I’ve ever had. I really fucking miss him, even if he is a sarcastic arsehole.” she trailed off looking at the stunned faces of the assembled Order. 

“Oh.” Lily replied softly. “Do you think he’ll listen?”

Hermione shrugged, “I don't intend to give him a fucking choice.” she growled. “I’m well used to beating that stubborn man into submission, I don't intend to give up on him now.”

Draco snorted, “Well, if anyone can manage it it’ll be you. He’s said for years you’re his biggest weakness because you refused to allow him to scare you. He had no idea how to handle you.” 

She laughed, her face fond. “Yes well….lets hope the younger Severus is less stubborn than the elder….or you know, we’re in a room with no breakables.” 

“Hold on…we’re talking about the same person. Severus Snape? That greasy little git who’s up to his neck in dark magic?”

Hermione froze her gaze hardening as she looked at him. “Padfoot,” she growled, “You are one of my favourite people, even if you are an impulsive arse but you ever insult Severus Snape in my hearing again and I will hex you impotent for the next year.” Sirius paled, sensing she wasn’t joking. “The rivalries stop now. You are of age. Adults. School houses do not define a person. You bullied him mercilessly from the moment you laid eyes on each other. And I will not allow it. Its time to fucking grow up. You don’t have to like him but you do have to be fucking civil, am I clear?”

“He called Lily a mudblood.” James said mulishly.

“And you and Sirius had him strung up by his ankle, scorgifyied his mouth and threatened to remove his trousers for no other reason than you were bored. He apologised. Repeatedly. Did you?” James and Sirius paled. “Exactly.” 

“What do you want with my brother?” Sirius asked instead.

“He had a change of heart um…later…this year? We’re hoping to speed that up by a month or two. He's…important and I’d quite like him not to die.”

“He dies?” Sirius asked, stricken.

“Padfoot.” she sighed. “You all die.”

Chapter Text

“I think that's enough for tonight,” Dorea cut in forcefully. “I….I think we all need time to process what we’ve learned and you two need food and a decent night's sleep. Tomorrow, we can begin to discuss what you know and what the plan is going forward. You’ll also need to let us know if you need anyone else here. There are people missing tonight.”

Glancing at Draco, Hermione nodded. Food sounded blissful if she was honest, although she’d be willing to forgo it for sleeping in a normal bed. It had been far, far too long.  “Fine. I already know we need the Prewett twins and the…um Longbottoms? Frank and Alice. I don't know if they’re married yet. Oh, and definitely Augusta. And…. Does anyone know how old Kingsley Shacklebolt is?”

“Twenty one,” a muscled blond man called. “Benjy Fenwick,” He supplied at Hermione's curious look.

“Ah. Well….I’d like him too.”

“He's not an Order member, Miss Potter,” Dumbledore cut in.

“Make him one,” she replied succinctly, cutting over him as he opened his mouth to speak again. “The Weasley’s?”

“Molly has not long given birth to twins. She doesn't feel it’s safe for her or Arthur to be involved,” Benjy offered.

“Fred and George,” Hermione murmured before she nodded. “Very well. That's all I can think of. Everyone else appears to be here. Oh actually….Andromeda Tonks.”

“Is not interested in joining us,” Albus replied, his expression missing his normal twinkling.

“Huh. Really? I wonder when she changed her mind. I still think I’d like to talk to her. I think we’ll need her for Regulus.” She turned to Draco, “What about your mother?”

“I don't know,” he replied honestly. 

“Perhaps think about it,” she replied softly. “We have time.” 

He nodded, ignoring the curious looks as he pulled her close, needing the comfort as his mother screaming at him to run before they murdered her flashed through his head. Sensing his thoughts, Hermione hugged him tight. “It won't happen this time, my dragon,” she murmured. “We won't let it.” He didn't answer her as he buried his head in her hair. 

“Right, everyone out,” Dorea commanded, ignoring Albus’ spluttering. “We meet again tomorrow at eight. Mr. Fenwick, ensure the twins are here.”

“Yes Ma’am,” Benjy grinned, saluting her as he headed for the floo.

“Dorea…I really do think….”

“Truly Albus, I could not care less what you think right now,” she interrupted, her eyes on the broken children clinging to each other in her drawing room. “These children need food and sleep and probably a Healer. A day or two’s grace is not going to lose us the war. Now get out of my house. Minerva, if you could send over Poppy, perhaps?”

Minerva nodded, “Aye. They’ll be familiar with her at least, and Merlin knows the woman can keep secrets.”

Dorea nodded firmly, “Thank you. Mr Lupin, where exactly do you think you are going?”

“I….ah….”

“No. Sit down.” She looked around the assembled teens shrewdly, “Peter will keep. We’ll deal with him at the proper time. Us…not you. Am I clear?”

“Yes, Dorea,” he sighed. 

“Sirius?” she probed sharply. 

Sirius stared unflinchingly back at her for several long moments before his shoulders dropped, “Yes, Mum.”

“Good. Trixie?”

A small elf in a tiny green towel appeared, “Yes Mistress?”

“Tea if you please…and broth and a nutrition potion, I think, for our two newcomers.”

Trixie's eyes went wide. “Oh!” she breathed. “Oh more children for Trixie! Trixie will be getting her young Mistress and her young Mistresses mate well soon enough, yes she will!” At that she disappeared leaving silence.

“I suggest we head to the dining room,” Dorea ventured softly, watching as Hermione murmured something to Draco that was too low for her to catch. Unfurling slowly from her, Draco looked around the room in confusion, as he had not realised everyone else had left.

“Oh. Right,” he replied softly, tugging on Hermione's hand to ensure she followed. 

“Potion for the young Mistress and the young Mistress’s mate!” A tiny elf barked at them, handing over a vial.

Draco uncorked and smelled it gingerly, casting over the top to be sure. It seemed like just a nutrition potion, but he wasn't sure he wanted to take something he hadn't personally brewed. Dorea and Charlus watched him with sad looks of understanding. 

“We don't intend to poison you,” Charlus offered, attempting to muster a smile for the understandably paranoid boy in front of him. Across the table the Marauders and Lily were watching them with horrified eyes. 

Draco nodded slowly, passing the tested potion to Hermione, who accepted it without question before he tested the second one. 

“I miss Severus' version,” Hermione murmured. “It always tasted like cherries.” 

Draco snorted, “That's because you were his favourite. He made mine taste like sprouts after I annoyed him. I think I was five.”

Hermione laughed, “To be fair you were a prat for a long time. You deserved it.”

“How often have you needed nutrition potions?” Dorea asked, not sure she wanted to know the answer. 

“Oh…um…second year after they woke me up from being petrified, although it was the standard one then. And um….fourth, I was dosed after I was held under the bloody Black Lake for some reason. Stupid Triwizard Tournament. And um…fifth after….well, after we were really fucking stupid. And um a few times over the last year when Severus could sneak us them,” Hermione ventured hesitantly.

Draco shrugged, “Severus made it for me when I was ill as a child and….ah sixth and seventh year. He forced them on me quite a few times then.”

“Dear gods,” she muttered. 

“You were in the Triwizard tournament?” James asked excitedly, visibly shoving his grief about Peter down, earning a smack to the back of the head from Lily.

Hermione snorted as Draco glowered. “Not willingly,” she admitted. “I was the hostage that one of the competitors had to rescue.”

“Stupid fucking Krum and his stupid fucking ideas,” Draco grumbled beside her, pulling her into his side possessively, despite knowing he was being ridiculous. He’d almost lost her so many times over the last few years and he wasn’t yet ready to deal with any of it. Grumbling about something as innocuous as Viktor Krum gave him some outlet for the terror he’d had to bury. 

She shook her head exasperatedly, but her smile was fond. “I wondered how long it would take the caveman to return. It's been a while,” she teased. 

He looked at her, affronted. “He barely knew you and you were the thing he missed the most? Not that you’re not amazing and all Princess but you were mine.”

“I think it was more proximity and ease,” she murmured placatingly. 

“Didn’t the git have friends?” 

Shaking her head again, Hermione decided to ignore him. It was all too familiar an argument and really….Viktor was barely three years old in this time, he wasn’t exactly a threat. Not that he had been then either. For all Draco had been a curious mix of furious and terrified at the Yule Ball, their relationship too new to be anything other than precarious, even without the added years of taunting each other and the looming threat of his father. 

“I wish they’d had it when we were at school,” James continued, his hand blindly searching for the teacup Trixie had just placed in front of him. “Can you imagine Pads? Eternal glory….”

“Or you know…death.”

James blanched at Hermione’s tone. “Dumbledore wouldn't actually let anyone die!”

Both Draco and Hermione paled. “Except he did,” Draco replied softly, fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt. “He made a fourteen year old boy compete despite knowing he had not entered his own name and didn't want to, and then he allowed another teenage boy to die. I don't think he meant to…the death part, but there were so many things he could and should have done differently.”

“Fuck,” Sirius whispered. “Did you have any good years at school?”

“Um….we had parts of good years,” Hermione settled on, squeezing Draco’s hand as he cast over the broth in front of them, checking it over. 

“Are you going to test everything?” Remus asked, curiously. 

“Probably,” he shrugged, offering nothing else before handing over the bowl to Hermione having deemed it safe. 

“You learn to be paranoid,” Hermione offered softly. “It saved our lives more than once. It's not….we don't mean to be rude but…you have to understand, an awful lot of people wanted us dead. There have been more attempts on our lives than I can count and while I’ve never been poisoned, one of my best friends was. Draco has been, more than once. And that's before we consider that not everything has to be deadly. There are a lot of potions that can be hidden in food that do other things….veritaserum, compulsion potion, amortentia, inhibition potion. I’m sure there's more. It’ll be a hard habit for him to break, especially given how often the results were positive in the one place he should have been safe.”

Dorea shoved down yet another round of tears, already dreading what the children were going to tell them tomorrow if this was casual conversation. She felt Charlus take her hand in silent support as he watched them finally begin eating with something nearing relief. 

“How do you know me so well?” Sirius asked into the silence.

Hermione shot Draco a slightly panicked look. “Ah….well…technically you’re Draco’s cousin…removed in some way, I don't know…”

“First cousin once removed,” Draco supplied with a slight grin. “You’d make an abysmal Pureblood, Princess. Your ability to remember any sort of familial link is truly appalling.”

Hermione snorted, “Sure. Except the Black family tree is the most convoluted thing I have ever seen in my life. You could have started with an easier one to teach me!”

“She's not wrong,” Sirius grinned. “So you're….Cissa’s? She didn't come to her senses and have a wild affair and leave the pretentious prick did she?”

“Sadly not. Yes, I’m Narcissa’s.”

Sirius hummed. “You have her eyes. And mine I guess. I can't imagine Lucy was too happy with that.”

Draco choked on his food. “Lucy?” he asked, horrified. 

Sirius’ grin was sharklike. “He hates it as much as you’re imagining he would. Which is exactly why I continue to use it.”

Draco let out a bark of laughter. “I’m almost sorry I never got to see his reaction.”

“We’ll see if we can arrange something,” Sirius promised. “What about you….Princess.”

“No,” Draco growled. “Not Princess.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and singsonged “Caveman,” making Lily smile. “What about me what?”

“Any interesting family members we should be aware of?”

Hermione shrugged, “Many, but I doubt they’d be of interest. I’m muggleborn.”

“Are you really?” Lily’s eyes lit up. 

“Yes,” Hermione started before Sirius began to howl with laughter. 

“Fuck I’ll call him Lord Malfoy if I get to be the one to tell that arse that the pure as fucking snow Malfoy line ends with him!”

“Once we’ve got baby Draco somewhere safe and the mad snakeman dealt with I’ll allow it,” Draco conceded.

Sirius’ eyes lit up like a toddler at Christmas. “You might just be my new favourite relative. Not that it's hard, I only really like Andy and Dora.”

“Tonks!” Hermione grinned. “How old is she now?”

“You knew her? I ah…six, I think? Seven?”

“Yes we knew her….she was something like an older sister. A fun, always trying to embarrass you and make you blush, older sister. She’s pretty awesome.”

Beside her, Draco groaned. “Gods her sex talk. I swear still fucking haunts me.”

“Tell me everything,” Sirius grinned, leaning forward eagerly. 

“No…please, come on Princess. You love me! Don't do this.”

Hermione attempted to stifle her grin at his begging. “I don't actually know most of it,” she admitted to Sirius. “You, Tonks, and Fred and George Weasley all took Draco to the library at Headquarters for a…um… chat about intentions and…um…safety? He couldn't look me in the eye if we were in the same room as any of you for ages. In contrast, your and Tonks’ talk with me and Gin was incredibly useful.”

Draco looked at her in abject horror. “You mean one of my cousins is responsible for…..Oh Gods….fuck…that. No. Absolutely not. I demand you obliviate me immediately.” 

Hermione was almost in tears she was laughing so hard.  And despite feeling uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had taken, both Charlus and Dorea were glad to see her relax slightly. Everyone jumped as Sirius yelped. 

Turning to look at him they saw James glaring. “What was that for, arsehole!”

“You….you were corrupting my…fuck…whatever she is…daughter?”

Hermione immediately looked horrified. “No. Merlin you can't be any older than I am! I’m not calling you Dad!” 

“Why not! I think I’ll be an excellent father!”

“Yes…to someone an awful lot younger than I am,” Hermione conceded with a grimace. 

James looked at her thoughtfully. “Big brother then.” 

“Why do you get to be older?”

“Because I am!”

Hermione scowled, muttering about annoying Potter boys and their overbearing nonsense. “I found Sirius’ chat incredibly informative. Remus followed it up with less…..dramatic information.”

Draco shuddered, “Fuck I’d forgotten that talk. Severus joined him. It might have been more scarring than the first one. My godfather should not talk about sex.”

“Oh come on! It wasn't that bad….it was….”

“Fucking uncomfortable being lectured by two professors, one of whom apologised to you because he’d changed my nappies and said he was sure you were likely to be disappointed. Fucking arsehole. He offered to explain the concept of Ann Summers to Tonks so she could bloody take you.” Hermione snorted as Draco continued. “I know it was insulting given how hard you laughed but you never did explain why.” Sirius choked. “Fuck even you know what it is!”

“Do explain to the class, Pads,” Remus grinned.

Sirius’ eyes went immediately to Dorea and Charlus, both of whom looked serenely back. 

“It's ah….um. A shop for…um adults. Um…toys for adults.”

“Toys?” Draco frowned in confusion. 

Hermione was crying again, clutching her stomach as she laughed. She’d never seen Sirius look so uncomfortable discussing sex. It was both hilarious and strangely endearing. In her time, he’d taken great pleasure in offering tips and advice to her and Ginny, even as they begged him to stop talking at points. It seemed that this Sirius was still able to feel some level of embarrassment.

“Yes…toys….that um…resemble a um….they’re used in the bedroom,” he settled on.

“I still don't understand.”

Regaining her composure for a moment as Remus lost his, Hermione helped him out. “They sell sex toys Draco. I don't know what they sell now but in our time their range was quite extensive.”

“What the fuck is a sex toy?!”

“You know that handy little vibrating charm?” Hermione murmured, darting a glance at Dorea who looked faintly uncomfortable again. 

“Uhuh….”

“Well muggles have things that do that too….just without using a charm. Amongst other things.”

“What other things?” he asked in horrified fascination. 

“Ah….maybe a discussion for later?”

Draco’s cheeks took on a distinctly pink tinge as he remembered where he was. “Ah sorry…yes. Perhaps not appropriate for just now.”

“Perhaps not.” Dorea replied faintly as Charlus hid his smile. Perhaps he'd embarrass Sirius later by asking him to take him. That could be entertaining. They’d take Draco with them. 

“Um…you sound really close to Severus,” Lily ventured. 

Draco shrugged, regaining some of his composure. “He was my godfather. He was…strict and wore a mask in public, but behind closed doors he was a far better role model than my father. He was the one who was always there when I needed him. When Hermione and I first got together and I panicked, he was the one that talked me down from the ceiling. He….kept our secret and helped us arrange ways to meet, even during the holidays. And he played post owl more than once. We both used to write to Severus, using him as an intermediary. Me, because he was the one person my father never questioned me being in contact with, and Hermione because Severus could then pass her letters on to me without raising suspicion. He was the one that suggested it. And when the Order reformed, he convinced them I was safe so I could still see Hermione during the holidays, which is how I ended up being given the sex chat by Hermione’s merry band of misfit men….and Tonks.”

“How long have you been together?” Dorea asked softly. 

“Since fourth year, so four years ish. We wouldn't have managed it without him.”

“He never had an issue with you being muggleborn?” James asked curiously.

Hermione sighed, “He never had an issue with any muggleborn, not really. We spoke about what happened once. I’m aware of…things you probably aren't.”

“He adored her,” Draco cut in. “Not publicly, it would have been a fucking death sentence for both of them, but privately. We spent a lot of time hiding in his rooms at Hogwarts and despite wanting to strangle her on occasion for needing to know everything, he bloody loved her. More than I think he loved me.” Hermione rolled her eyes at him. “You got cherries! I got sprouts!” he groused.

“Will you tell me sometime?” Lily asked quietly.

Hermione hesitated. “I…Maybe some of it but he's here and a very real person. It feels wrong to tell you everything.”

Lily nodded, “I understand that.”

“Hold on….you said two professors!” James interrupted like he’d just realised.

“Oh…yes. Professor Lupin was our Defence Professor in third year.”

Remus’ cheeks pinked, “Was I really?”

“Yup. Best one we had.” 

“Uncle Sev would curse you for that, you know.”

Hermione just grinned, “Severus was a fucking terror of a Defense professor. I'm not saying we didn’t need it. We did, but he was beyond bloody brutal.”

Draco snorted, “He was trying to keep us alive.”

“I know.” she replied softly, a flash of grief bursting over her face before she pulled her mask back into place. “However, there was no need for those nightmare inducing posters or the complete lack of natural light. Despite the rumours, he was not actually a fucking vampire.”

Draco laughed, conceding the point.

Chapter Text

Hermione groaned, stretching out on the softest thing she’d slept on in over a year. It was like a cloud, a very warm cloud. Beside her, Draco stirred. “Morning, Princess,” he whispered, his eyes still clouded with sleep. “I don't think I ever want to leave this bed. I’d forgotten how good a real one feels.”

Hermione hummed, cuddling back into him. The night before had been a long one as everyone asked questions, attempting to keep things light after their previous revelations and she was still exhausted. “Go back to sleep,” she murmured, not able to convince herself to move.

“Shouldn't we check the time?”

“No,” she groaned. “I don't care what time it is.”

Huffing out a laugh, Draco gathered her close and closed his eyes again. Another hour wouldn't hurt.

They both jumped, wands in hand, when they were woken an indeterminate amount of time later. 

“Oh my,” someone whispered, taking in their immediate defensiveness. 

“Madam Pomfrey?” Hermione questioned, still blinking sleep from her eyes. 

“That would be me,” the matron responded briskly, keeping her mask up. Minerva had intimated it was bad, but this? Merlin, these were children! Nothing could have prepared her for this. “Care to lower your wands?”

Hermione and Draco hesitated. “Not yet. The first time you saw Severus Snape, what did you say to him?”

Madam Pomfrey stilled, wondering what on Earth Severus had to do with any of this and how they could possibly know she was telling the truth. “I…I didn’t say anything initially. I shoved a nutrition potion at him and once he’d drunk it I told him if he was half as brilliant as his mother was he’d figure out a way to make it taste less vile before he left school.” Nodding, they both lowered their wands. Poppy exhaled in relief, entirely unsure of what would have happened if they hadn't. Abused and reluctant teenagers she’d dealt with before, but this…not this. Even the most abused of her charges…Severus and Sirius Black, her mind supplied, hadn't had hair-trigger wand reflexes and, she imagined, the knowledge to back them up. “Right then. Dorea asked me to give you a quick examination. I understand things have been….difficult for a while.”

Draco snorted at her hesitation. “Something like that,” he conceded. “What is it you intend to check?”

“Levels of malnutrition and injury status. I’ll need both to determine a healing regimen.”

Nodding, Draco indicated to Hermione first. “You’ll have to let her go Mr….”

“Malfoy,” he supplied, noting her surprise. They hadn't told her much then.

“Ah. Mr Malfoy. If you don't let her go, your presence may skew the readings.”

Reluctantly, Draco moved away from Hermione, letting go of her hand.

“Right then Miss…”

“Granger.”

“Miss Granger, perhaps lying down would be best?”

She shook her head sharply, not able to convince herself to feel that vulnerable in a room with people she didn't trust completely. Sighing, Madam Pomfrey nodded. “Very well.” She raised her wand, ignoring Hermione's instinctive flinch and the tensing of her shoulders as she fought the urge to reach for her own, and began casting, forcing herself to keep going even as the results made her want to vomit. Severe malnutrition, cruciatus damage, dark magic residue, cursed scars, weakened immune system, damaged nervous system, damaged reproductive system, weakened heart, magical depletion. 

“Right Miss Granger,” she began weakly, swallowing hard. “You’ll need several potions and rest .”

Hermione arched a brow. “That good then?”

“Do you truly want to know?”

“Yes.”

Poppy sighed. “Very well. Let me scan Mr Malfoy and then we’ll talk.”

Hermione nodded, scooting down the bed slightly as Poppy raised her wand again and began Draco’s scan. Malnutrition, cruciatus damage, dark magic residue, cursed scars, weakened immune system, damaged nervous system, damaged reproductive system, weakened heart, magical depletion. What on earth had happened to these children?

“Right then,” she exhaled loudly. “As you will need several potions and procedures perhaps an additional person in the room so that between you you’ll be able to keep track?” she suggested, not at all sure how they were going to react to this news. The potions were simple enough, and if she had to guess, the looks on their faces indicated they knew she was giving them a means of emotional support without suggesting they needed it.

Hermione barely refrained from rolling her eyes but nodded. “I….Charlus I think,” she voiced, looking at Draco briefly.

“Charlus? Not Dorea?” Poppy pushed, unable to hide her surprise.

“She keeps looking at us like she wants to cry. We both know what's coming next is not going to be pleasant. I think he's less likely to outwardly pity us.”

Poppy nodded slowly, taking in the defiant tilt of the girl's chin that was betrayed by the almost bone breaking hold she had on the boy's hand. The crushing reminder that they were still children hit her hard. They were good, she’d give them that, their outward abrasiveness hiding a multitude of issues, but they were both scared and whatever had happened, neither was yet able to trust anyone but each other. She knew Dorea would not be happy. She’d seen her face before she’d gone in to wake the new teenagers she seemed to have acquired. Dorea was well on her way to loving them and she wouldn't take kindly to being told she couldn't mother them right now. “Very well.”

“Well?” Dorea pounced on her the moment she left the room.

“We haven't discussed the results yet. I suggested another person be with them to ensure they remember everything.”

“Well then, what are we waiting for?”

“They asked for Charlus,” Poppy replied gently.

Dorea went still. “Pardon?”

“Dorea….” Poppy sighed. “The damage is extensive. Whatever they lived through….I wouldn't wish it on You-know-who himself. They need…space. To relearn how to trust people. And you, for all you wear that Slytherin mask well, it slips sometimes and they see it. They need someone able to be more….outwardly clinical. I don’t think they’re able to cope with anyone else's feelings while they’re fighting so hard to keep hold of their own.” She softened her voice at the devastated look on the other woman's face. “They’ll need you. That girl especially. Once she's ready or perhaps just once the cracks begin to appear. And they will. No person can deal with what they went through and not need to speak to someone eventually. She’ll need you then. But they’ll only let you be there if you listen now.”

Dorea swallowed hard. “Did Minerva explain who they were?” Poppy shook her head looking at the other woman with concern. “Hermione was adopted by my grandson. Sibling adoption, I think, although she never explicitly said it. Draco is Lucius Malfoy’s son.” 

Poppy frowned, “She said her name was Granger.”

“Perhaps it was,” Dorea conceded, with a wince. “She gave her name as Hermione Potter under veritaserum. Perhaps they did the ritual not long before she came here. Perhaps no one knew. Perhaps there weren't enough people left to use it.”

“I’m still not sure I follow. You don't have a grandson.”

“Not yet, no. Hermione will be born in 1979. Draco in 1980. I…I am struggling. Because not only should no child ever look like, behave like that, she is ours. I can feel it. Magic knows. And I want…I  need  her to be safe and I have a feeling that she's not going to let me keep her out of what they’re planning and that terrifies me. I have no idea how to help them. At least with Sirius, there was already a level of affection when I was putting him back together. With those two…they don't know me. They don't know James or Lily and the implications of that terrify me too.”

“Who do they know?” Poppy asked, silently attempting to comprehend what Dorea was saying.

“You apparently. Minerva. Hermione especially seems to trust her. Sirius, Remus. And they mentioned Severus Snape? It's not a name I’m familiar with.”

Poppy blinked. “I am. They know him well?”

“Yes. They quite clearly adore the man…Sirius and James seem…not to. Can we trust him?”

Poppy sighed. “I want to say yes, but honestly I should say no. However, if everything you’ve just said is true, then I imagine they know more than I do.”

“That's essentially what Hermione told Lily. She knew him?”

“They were childhood friends. I don't know exactly what happened but I gather it didn't end well.”

“No,” Dorea snorted remembering Hermione's rant. “No, Hermione said as much while shaming my son and Sirius. I’ll…I’ll go and get Charlus. Poppy? Is there anything I can do?”

“Don't push, just be there,” the matron replied gently, ignoring the many questions she really wanted to ask in an effort to force any of this to make sense. 

If Charlus had been surprised to be asked, it didn't show by the time he arrived at Poppy's side. “Come along then,” she demanded briskly once she spotted him.

Draco and Hermione’s wands shot up as the door opened. Poppy winced at her own stupidity at not announcing them. Deciding that ignoring their reaction was best, she transfigured the bedside lamp into a chair as Charlus conjured one. 

“Right then. Your readings are almost identical. Both of you are malnourished, Miss …Granger more so.” Charlus startled slightly at her name but didn't comment. “I’m starting you both on nutrition potions three times a day. I want you to eat little and often. And I’ll be checking in weekly and monitoring your weight. Understood?”

They both nodded. “Good. Now. You are both magically depleted. You need rest and to limit your wand use where possible.” Ignoring their grimace, she continued, “The damage to your bodies is extensive, both of you, mostly from the cruciatus curse. Mr Malfoy’s is slightly worse. Do you want the specifics?”

“Yes.”

She nodded, “Very well. Your immune system is weakened. Rest and nutrition are the only cure for that I’m afraid. It’ll take some time. I cannot cure your cursed scars, but the dark magic residue should fade eventually. I can give you some salve for the non-cursed ones that should reduce the scarring. Your nervous system is damaged. I would recommend a cocktail of nerve healing potions, three most likely. Mr Malfoy might need the fourth. I can prescribe them for St. Mungo’s to fulfil. It won't be questioned. I imagine you’ll need to take them for at least a month, Mr Malfoy potentially longer. Again, I’ll be checking it weekly. I’m not going to lie. It is likely to hurt, so I suggest taking them before bed so that you’re asleep before the worst of the pain starts. I can prescribe dreamless sleep for the first week. It will likely be the most painful, but it should grow more manageable as your nerves start to heal. Both of your reproductive systems are damaged…that is not news?” she frowned, noting the suddenly blank expressions on their faces.

Hermione shook her head. “We figured. It's not news that the cruciatus curse damages internal organs.”

The matron hummed, shoving down her discomfort at the matter of fact way the girl spoke “The damage is…well not brand new but it's also not old. There may be a way to help it slightly, although there are no guarantees. It will involve a Healer from the Department of Mysteries. I can ask if they’re willing if you want?”

“I…I don't know.”

“If it doesn't work we’re no worse off, Princess,” Draco voiced softly, turning to look at Hermione, his eyes scanning her face for something, although neither Charlus nor Poppy was sure what.

She nodded slowly, still looking conflicted. “Fine.”

“I'll send the owl then. They take vows of secrecy, and I’ll be having them sign a very specific contract; they won't be able to tell anyone anything even if they wanted to.”

“You know them well?” Hermione voiced hesitantly.

“I trained under them. I still help out from time to time.”

“In the Department of Mysteries?”

Poppy grinned, “There are only so many Quidditch injuries you can heal before you need slightly more of a challenge.” Both of them laughed, although Hermione’s sounded strained. “Finally, there is significant damage to both of your hearts. A combination of malnutrition-related weight loss and the curse damage. Time will help, but I want you to consider allowing some specific healing spells.”

“What ones?”

“There are several. My Master will be better able to advise if you’ll allow it, but involves being put in a magical sleep.”

Both of them tensed. “You’ll teach us the counter spell to the magical sleep and allow the other to be there when it's happening. No one other than people previously agreed upon may be in the room.” Draco’s tone left no room for argument.

“We can do that, yes.”

“Ok.”

“Good. Well, I’ll send that owl and let you know when to expect us. I’ll have an elf bring the nutrition potions for the next few days to Dorea. Don't get up. I’ll see myself out. You're not to be out of that bed for at least the next three days. Whatever you were planning,” she fixed Charlus with a stern glare, “Rearrange it.”

He nodded, grinning, “Of course Poppy.”

“Good.” At that, she bustled out of the room. 

“How are you both?” he asked, once the door was closed.

Draco shrugged, “None of it was exactly a surprise.”

“No, I imagine it wasn’t,” Charlus replied with a sigh, privately acknowledging how bloody awful that statement was all in itself. No teenager shouldn’t be surprised when faced with a list of medical issues like the one they’d just listened to. “I know you're not ready….I admit that I can't quite begin to imagine what you're going to tell us when we finally hear your story but…my door is always open if you need it.”

“Thank you,” Draco replied softly, before turning worried eyes back to Hermione who was huddled into his side. “You heard the woman, Princess. Back to bed for a while.” It concerned him more than he wanted to admit when she didn't fight him. Seeing the fear on the boy's face, Charlus squeezed his shoulder before he left the room. “My study is two doors down, you can usually find me in there. Call for Trixie if you need anything.”

Draco nodded, not taking his eyes off Hermione as she folded in on herself under the covers.

“Hey…” Draco whispered. “Talk to me.”

Hermione's eyes closed. “I’m scared,” she whispered finally, not wanting to admit to such a ridiculous weakness after everything else they’d gone through.

“Of?”

“I….Remember when we were still naive enough to talk about children?”

Draco swallowed hard, pulling her as close as he could. “Yes.”

“I…I’m scared that if I allow myself to hope this Healer can fix things that it’ll be the thing that breaks me when they can't.” 

“Oh, Princess. We…we don't have to?”

“But then I’ll always wonder what if? And Draco….if I don't survive what's coming next I don't want you stuck with no options because I took that choice from you. Madam Pomfrey made it sound like time was of the essence and I can’t take that away. I know how much you want children.”

“No!” he growled, “Don’t …don’t ever. Either we both survive, and I’m not going to lie Princess that's my preference, or I’m going down with you. I can't…Merlin, Hermione I can't do this without you. I won't. So we make this decision together because the only children I’ll ever have will be yours too.”

She let out a long sigh. “Fine. We’ll see the Healer.”

“And if all else fails and you really want a baby….we’ll adopt or…what was that thing you were talking about that muggles do?”

“Surrogacy?”

“Yeah, that. We can look at that.” He pulled her impossibly close, not daring to linger on the idea of her not making it through the next conflict. It was unthinkable. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too. Now, go to sleep, Princess. All of this will still be there when we wake up.” It took him a long, long time to finally fall asleep as he closed his eyes and just listened to her breathing, reassuring himself she was still there.

Chapter Text

Albus stewed on hearing that the meeting had been postponed again. The travellers surely understood, they had to. It was clear they were no strangers to battle, so what were they playing at? They could rest when it was done. He had heard that the damage to their bodies was extensive, although he had been refused the specifics. Even now, all he knew was that Poppy was waiting on her Master to finalise their treatment plan. But surely if it was that bad then they should ensure that they gave those who were healthy the best possible chance? It was war. People were unfortunately expendable. As long as they gave the Order all of their information, their part in this war could be done. They could die in a lovely blaze of glory safe in the knowledge that better wizards than them would take care of it. 

He acknowledged privately that the girl’s clear hatred of him unnerved him. He was just trying to end the war. Sacrifices had to be made. Why did no one else see that? What were a couple of childhoods in the face of never-ending tyranny? Although if they were to be believed, something had apparently gone wrong somewhere. He’d fix that this time though, with their information. And he’d be sure to make mention of their contribution in the memorial speeches when they’d won. That would surely be enough restitution. He was confident they’d see sense. They were soldiers after all. 

His eyes widened slightly when the travellers walked in. They looked…well, not healthy, but healthier. Rest and food had done wonders for their appearance in a relatively short period of time. Perhaps they were not as close to death as he’d believed. Maybe he could offer them a place at his side instead. That might ensure their cooperation. 

“It's wonderful to see you looking so restored,” he twinkled. Hermione looked at him incredulously but didn't speak, moving to sit down beside Sirius, who clasped the hand that Draco wasn't holding. 

Sirius had grown inexplicably fond of this fierce girl over the last week. With neither of them being allowed out of bed, Dorea had dispatched James, Sirius, Remus and Lily to entertain them and so they had. He was relatively certain it was also to ensure they didn't have time to hunt down Peter, especially after the ridiculous little owl his former friend had sent informing them he was taking his mother somewhere warm for a few weeks in the hopes of it being beneficial to her heath, promising faithfully that he missed them and would be in touch as soon as he was back. 

Despite that, it had been…nice to have a girl other than Lily who was blatantly uninterested in him romantically and not afraid to tell him if she thought he was being an arse. It was a rare trait. And if it allowed his impulsive reaction to cool down into something more steady, well, he imagined Dorea would consider it a job well done. He was trying, after all. And as much as he wanted to end Peter, he also wasn't sure he could put Hermione through any more, and unfortunately, murder meant Azkaban, even if the one you murdered was a traitorous rat. The only time he had mentioned it in her presence, she had paled so dramatically, that he thought she was going to faint. Draco had warned him in a low, threatening voice that if he ever mentioned something so monumentally fucking stupid again, he’d personally ensure that he was warded in a room with no way out until he was deemed sensible, all while trying to bring Hermione out of whatever it was she was seeing inside her head. He decided then and there, that if it caused that reaction, he was best going against his instincts and follow the instructions for once.

And once he had shoved the idea of Peter behind his shields, the week had hardly been a hardship. He enjoyed their company. Hermione’s sharp tongue and the glimpses of what their relationship really looked like behind all the horror made them fun to be around. That Remus also loved them, mainly because both of them were happy discussing obscure magical theory with him in a way that bored Sirius and James to tears, also helped. Still, they’d taught Moony some rare hexes so maybe next time he’d join them, he mused, as he watched the Order filter in. Or maybe he’d just bribe Remus to teach him. Hermione probably wouldn't find it endearing if he fell asleep mid-lecture.

James had refused to say more than that she felt like family and that was enough for him to wind Hermione up like a sibling until Draco had had to hold her back from cursing him in annoyance. And Lily…Lily had just loved having another muggleborn to talk to and had spent hours updating them on current trends and interests. In turn, Hermione had told her pieces of what was coming, recommending investment in…an apple? Something like that. All in all, it had been a surprisingly easy week given the situation. Now though, he was aware of the tension that was back in their bodies. And he was all too aware of the fact that Hermione clearly despised the Headmaster. It made him feel on edge. He’d always respected Dumbledore. He’d given Moony a chance after all. But he was inclined to trust this strange girl with the wild hair that James had claimed as his sister, and he wasn't sure where that left things. This was Dumbledore's Order, wasn't it? And he was the leader of the opposition….so surely that meant he had to be trustworthy? Hermione didn't seem to think so….and really, she’d know, wouldn't she?

He glanced over at Remus, who was sitting beside Lily. He could see the same conflict on his face as he watched Hermione and Draco tense, a startling reminder of what they’d been like when they arrived. It wasn't something Sirius wanted to see, not after he’d caught a glimpse of the people underneath the masks over the last week. Maybe after they’d said whatever they needed to say tonight they’d understand more. He had to hope.

“Alright we all seem to be here,” Albus smiled genially around the room. “Shall we begin?”

Hermione stood pulling Draco with her. “I need anyone who wasn't here last time to sign this.” The Prewett twins shared a look before shrugging in sync.

“Sure thing. Just…what exactly is it we're signing?” Fabian smiled genially, although his eyes were shrewd as he surveyed these two interlopers, suddenly understanding what it was that Benjy had been unable to say.

“Charmed parchment. That way I’ll know if someone betrays us.”

“Ah…and you are?”

“Hermione…Potter. I’ll explain once that's signed.”

They nodded, signing their names with a flourish before handing it to Kingsley, who signed without comment before giving it to Frank Longbottom who hesitated but seeing no one else object, signed his name before handing it over to Alice. 

“Now see here just a minute. I want more of an explanation!”

Hermione's lips twitched into a reluctant grin. “I'd have been surprised if you didn't….Gussie.”

Augusta Longbottom's eyes widened as just about everyone in the room inhaled sharply. No one called the Longbottom Matriarch anything other than Madam Longbottom without her express permission, and even then there was no shortening of her given name.

“Who are you?” she spluttered. 

Hermione shrugged. “Sign the parchment and I’ll tell you. Trust me it's a story you want to hear….it might rival a few of your own. Tell me…did Mavis ever recover?” It was a risk, Hermione knew. The Augusta Longbottom she knew was wickedly fast with a wand and not afraid to use it. The woman had spent hours teaching them duelling during the summer between fifth and sixth year. They’d owled frequently before Hermione had to go on the run with Harry, and she liked to think she knew her relatively well. She definitely respected the stern woman; it would be a severe blow to her plan to have her walk away now.

“She was left with just a minor limp.” Augusta conceded, signing her name.

Hermione bit back a smile, taking it back from her. “Thanks.”

“Are you going to explain now?” Augusta asked pointedly. 

“I suppose I should,” Hermione mused. “I would like to point out that our identities and dates of birth have been verified by veritaserum, however unbelievable they seem. I am Hermione Potter. This is Draco Malfoy, and I won't be born until September.”

Augusta sat down sharply. “Verified by whom?”

“All those who didn't have to sign that parchment tonight Augusta,” Minerva cut in.

“Oh my. Why are you here?”

“To stop this fucking war before it kills you all,” Hermione growled. 

“All of us?” Augusta queried lightly, although her face was tense.

Hermione looked around the room and sighed. “When we left, all of you were dead. Voldemort won. There was no mercy. We tried for a while to continue, but he’d been recruiting. Anyone who didn't want to die joined his side. He had contacts overseas, specifically with Durmstrang, and he had control of Hogwarts and therefore most pure and half blood parents. All of the teachers were replaced by members of his side. He very publicly slaughtered those who refused. You tried. Your death was….” Hermione paused looking like she wanted to vomit. “You, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Flitwick, along with Molly Weasley and Andromeda Tonks were made examples of. I…it really wasn't pleasant.” 

The entire room was silent. “So what do we do?” Augusta asked, her face pale but her voice was unwavering. 

“We need to work out where certain things are in this time,” Hermione hedged. “We also need to come up with some sort of timeline. Perhaps cross-referencing against planned missions to see if it jogs our memories. We both remember bits and pieces about the first war but it was…more of an overview rather than being given specific dates. We don't know everything. I honestly wish we did. We could also do with people carrying a way to get them out of situations. For example, we know the Prewett twins were ambushed. They took out five Death Eaters before Dolohov murdered them. If they had a way to get themselves out of that situation if they found themselves in it, then it could save them even if we don't know the specific date.”

The Prewett twins had paled before one of them nudged his twin. “Here….five of them Gid!”

His twin rolled his eyes but looked slightly mollified. 

Hermione gave them a sad smile. “We also have some people we will need to speak to. We need them onside.”

“Miss Potter you make it sound like you're intending to fight this,” Albus said gently. 

“What else would we do? Do I need to say it again? You fucked up. I won't let you do it a second time.”

Augusta looked between Hermione and Albus shrewdly. “Perhaps you should start at the beginning?”

Sighing, Hermione nodded, “Fine. But it's…I imagine it’ll be difficult to listen to.”

“Not as difficult as it was to live,” Dorea responded sharply.

Hermione inclined her head. “I suppose. The early years didn't feel that bad. Hindsight makes them worse I think,” she glanced at the clock before turning to Draco. “Years one to three?”

He nodded. “Years one to three. I’ll need a drink before we begin on fourth, fifth and sixth. And an entire bottle and probably something lovely, illegal, and hallucinogenic before that last year.”

She snorted, ignoring the horrified looks the Order members were giving them.

“How much experience with lovely, illegal, hallucinogenic potions do you have?” Sirius asked with interest. 

“He lived in my house. More than I probably should.”

“Right, let's begin shall we?” Hermione elbowed him before her eyes settled on James. “Fuck. This is….well maybe we should have that drink.”

“We’re all experienced wizards, Miss Potter. I’m sure we can handle what you tell us,” Dumbledore chided.

Hermione shot him a scathing look. “Trixie. Calming draughts, please. And firewhiskey.” She ignored Dumbledore's disapproving look. 

“Right then.” She poured several measures, sending one to Frank, Alice, Augusta, Dorea, Charlus, James, Lily, Sirius, and Remus, before pouring a larger one for herself and Draco and draining the glass, ignoring Dumbledore's spluttering as she poured another measure. She paused, tilting her head as she surveyed the room, before she poured a few more, sending some to the Pretwett twins, Benjy Fenwick, and the woman she was certain was Dorcas Meadowes. She sent the remainder of the bottle towards two families seated together, unsure of how the Mickinnons and the Bones would react. 

“Right. So.” Everyone with a glass in front of them looked nervous. “We’re probably going to have to do this in stages over a few days.”

“Miss Potter, any day wasted is a day where we are all at risk,” Albus cut in.

“Lucky for you we have a decent idea of the timeline. We’ll be fine,” Hermione responded sharply.

“I really must insist.”

“No, you don’t get to insist. I warned you, we do this our way, not yours. I don’t give a fuck if you want all this done in one night. I’m telling you now that it's not happening. We are people, not fucking robots. We’ll all need time to process what we are about to say. So fuck off and be quiet or I won't speak until you’re out of the room.” There was a ringing silence. Albus was stunned. No one spoke to him like that and this girl was beginning to make a habit of it. He had excused it the first night on the grounds of their clearly battle-torn state. Now though, for all she didn’t look particularly well, she looked an awful lot better than she had. It made it feel…less reactionary and more personal. It dawned on him then that no one was defending him either. Shutting his mouth he decided to listen. He’d decide what to do about the irritating girl after he’d heard what she had to say. 

“Right then, everything happens in a relatively short space of time. Three months or so really, in 1981. Peter Pettigrew is a Death Eater. He passes on information for years. We think he joined before the end of school, but I'll be honest, we're not sure. When we met him…I met him…he'd spent twelve years as a rat. It wasn't pretty. Next year? I think, late next year. Voldemort attacks the Bones. He murderers everyone bar Amelia and Susan; she won't be born until next May. He takes out the Mckinnon's shortly after that. All of them.” She paused, seeing both families reach for the firewhiskey. “During that three month period, Benjy Fenwick goes missing. They only ever found pieces of him. Dorcas Meadowes is taken out by Voldemort himself, and as I said before, the Prewett twins die.” She took a deep breath. “There was a prophecy overheard and half given to Voldemort in 1980. It spoke of a baby who would be born that could defeat him.” She paused, a horrified look flashing over her face. “Don’t even fucking think about it,” she snarled at Dumbledore who had been unable to hide his interest. Draco watched the Headmaster warily, gauging the reaction of the room. Thankfully most of them looked faintly nauseated at his slip up. 

“There were two families that fit the prophecy,” Draco continued, allowing Hermione to calm herself back down as she kept a careful eye on Dumbledore. “The Longbottoms and the Potters. Because he only got half the prophecy, Voldemort began hunting them. Both families went into hiding.”

“What did the other half of the prophecy say?” Charlus asked, his hand shaking where he held his glass. “I assume it is important.”

“It mentioned the Dark Lord marking the child as his equal. If he’d ignored the prophecy, if he’d not hunted those children, it would have never been activated.”

“Right. Who did he choose?” Sirius asked, knowing the answer. 

“The Potter’s,” Draco answered reluctantly. “On Halloween 1981, their secret keeper gave up their location. Voldemort murdered both James and Lily. Their son, Harry, survived.”

Hermione looked at them, tears falling rapidly down her face, mirroring the ones on James and Lily’s. She didn't dare look at Dorea. “Everyone thought Sirius was their Secret Keeper, but he wasn't! Peter was. Sirius went after him, but Peter escaped, cutting off his finger before blowing up the area. Twelve muggles died. Sirius was arrested and sent to Azkaban without trial; he stayed there for twelve years.”

“Where was I?” Remus asked, looking ill.

“You'd been sent to the Packs. You thought Sirius had done it. You told us later that Peter had been making you question Sirius’ loyalty. He’d been doing the same to Sirius about you. Neither of you trusted the other.”

“What happened to Harry?” Lily whispered. 

“Dumbledore sent him to Petunia.” Hermione confessed softly, swallowing hard.

“No!”

“I’m so sorry. It won't happen. I won't let it.”

“Where were we?” Dorea asked quietly, her face streaked with tears.

“I don't know. You were…rarely mentioned. Sirius spoke of staying with you and how you were more of his mum than that bitch on the wall but he never said what happened.”

“The bitch on the wall?” Sirius questioned, his voice sounding slightly dazed.

Hermione flinched. “Ah….I’ve um..met your mother's portrait. She was particularly delightful.”

“What about us?” Alice asked, her voice cracking. “You gave us whiskey for a reason.”

Hermione nodded slowly. “After….after Voldemort disappeared having been unable to kill Harry, Bellatrix, Rodolphus, and Rabsastan Lestrange, along with Barty Crouch Jr. caught you. Remus thought you had heard what happened and were trying to get to Harry. You were his godmother. I don’t know exactly what happened, but they tortured you for information on Voldemort’s whereabouts. Neville, your son, he was safe. Augusta raised him….You and Frank….you were tortured to insanity. I met you once, in the Janus Thickey ward.” 

There was complete silence that was only broken by the sound of people crying. Draco took a moment to pull Hermione to him, feeling her crack under the weight of the horrors she was forcing these people to confront. He felt someone pulling her away from him and immediately went for his wand before he recognised the women standing in front of them. Augusta Longbottom pulled Hermione into a bone-cracking hug, just as Lily Evans did the same to him. 

“Thank you,” Augusta murmured, trying not to imagine the images Hermione had of her son and his fiancee before she met them tonight.

“What?”

“Thank you for telling us so we can make sure it doesn't happen this time.”

Hermione nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

Chapter Text

It had taken several calming draughts and another bottle of firewhisky to calm everyone down enough to listen to the next part. James had squashed himself and Lily in between Sirius and Hermione and had refused to let go of her hand. 

“You said Voldemort was gone, how were you still fighting?” Dorcas asked once silence had finally fallen.

“He was gone…but not dead,” Draco supplied, noting the triumphant gleam in Dumbledore's eyes that confirmed he had an inkling of the kinds of magic Tom Riddle had dabbled in since leaving Hogwarts. Had he known this early the first time? It wasn’t a thought Draco wanted to linger on as he pictured the bodies of his friends, his teachers, his family, and Hermione’s loved ones. If he had known then, surely he’d have done something? He had to believe that, even knowing what he knew about the manipulative old bastard or he might just kill him where he sat. 

“In our first year, he lived on the back of our Defense professor’s head,” Hermione added

“On…what?” Minerva gasped. 

“Professor Quirrell. I don't know if he's a professor of something else just now but perhaps prevent him from visiting Albania. It doesn't end well.”

“Quirrell….Quirinus Quirrell?”

“Yup that would be him.” 

“He’s not graduated yet!”

“Ah well, we’re all good on him being possessed then,” Hermione replied lightly.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Back on point…..This one made friends with Harry Potter, Ron Weasely and Neville Longbottom. Weasley, Potter and Granger….”

“Who is Granger?” Augusta frowned. 

“Ah…I am. Or was. Harry adopted me, hence the name change.”

“As I was saying. They were bloody Gryffindors and couldn't leave well enough alone. Even after Longbottom standing up to them. Which was no small thing, Hermione is terrifying.”

“Says the boy who went hunting for the dragon,” Hermione snorted. 

“Rich coming from the girl who took on a mountain troll with two other first years!”

“Mountain troll….dragon….at school?” Minerva sounded horrified. 

“Ah. Yes….Dumbledore in his infinite wisdom decided that school was a better place than Gringotts to store the Philosopher's stone. It was hidden under a Cerberus named Fluffy and an….obstacle course of sorts,” Hermione explained haltingly.

“Fluffy,” Minerva mouthed before concluding “Hagrid?”

“Of course,” Hermione smiled slightly. “The troll was let in by Professor Quirrell as a distraction because he…or Voldemort, wanted the stone. I happened to be in a bathroom when Ron and Harry locked it in with me accidentally. We, or really they, knocked it out and we became friends.”

“And the Dragon?” Dorea asked faintly.

Hermione let out an exasperated sigh. “Hagrid. He won it in the Hog’s Head; we think from Quirrell. He lives in a wooden house!”

“That was your issue with the dragon?” Draco asked incredulously. 

James and Sirius snorted, “What type of dragon?” James asked, dodging Lily's hand as it moved to hit him.

Hermione laughed, “A Norwegian Ridgeback. We saw it hatch. It was…quite cute really in a deadly, fire breathing sort of way.”

“Cute,” Minerva repeated faintly. 

“Anyway, Harry found the Mirror of Erised during a little midnight wander which makes me think it was all an elaborate plan to prepare him in some way.”

“Mirror of Erised?” Charlus asked.

“Oh it’s an enchanted mirror of sorts, it shows your deepest desires. Odd that it just seemed to be hanging about in an empty classroom don't you think? It was…it was the first time Harry had ever seen you. He had no pictures, no idea what any of you looked like and that mirror showed him the family he so desperately wanted, so he went back. Dumbledore caught him and told him it was being moved.”

“He had no idea what we looked like?” Lily asked faintly.

“He lived with Petunia.”

Lily nodded, a flash of pain radiating across her face before she could mask it. “And we’re going to talk about that shortly,” she stated pointedly.

“If you want,” Hermione conceded reluctantly. “We…thought Severus was after the stone. He seemed the type, all brooding and crotchety, so we went after it. We did try to involve a teacher, but we were not taken seriously, funnily enough. We bypassed Fluffy, some devils snare, some enchanted keys, played a giant game of enchanted chess and solved a logic potion that could have poisoned us and Harry went through magic fire to get the stone. It dropped into his pocket from the Mirror and he sort of….disintegrated Quirrell with a touch? Something about the blood protections left on him. And that was our first year.”

There was stunned silence before Dorea was on her feet. “What in the name of Merlin were you thinking?” she snarled, heading for Albus. Worryingly for him, there were agreeing nods from around the room. 

“Those things were not protections! That stone should never have been inside the school! How did no one notice three first years working their way through those defences?”

Albus held up his hands in supplication. “I confess as to having no idea as it hasn't happened yet.”

“Nor will it!” Dorea snarled. 

Draco and Hermione shared a look before grinning. It was more than a little satisfying to see someone take Albus to task. Too many people agreed with whatever he said in their time.

“You might want to sit down for second year,” Draco commented mildly. 

Dorea sat down sharply next to Minerva, not bothering to move back to her seat.

“Second year was surprisingly ok until Harry started hearing voices.”

“Hearing voices?” Lily asked, alarmed. 

“Well…just one voice really.”

“That's not anywhere near as reassuring as you apparently believe it is,” Remus replied wryly.

“Probably not,” Hermione conceded with a grimace. “Our Defense Professor that year was Gilderoy Lockheart. He was….”

“A fucking useless twat?” Draco suggested. 

Hermione rolled her eyes but didn't disagree. “When he publishes his first book do find someone in the aurory and tell them he's obliviating the real heroes.” 

Moody looked at her with interest. “And when would this be?”

“Um…I don't actually know. He was a household name in my time so I can't imagine it being too long. He's….pretty.”

“Pretty?” Draco asked in disgust.

“Well, he is! Was….less pretty in a hospital robe." she grimaced slightly at the memory before continuing, "He used his prettiness to further his agenda. It was almost like a weapon, alongside his vapidness; lots of people fell for it.”

“Remember when he tried to smile winningly at Severus? And did all those ridiculous wand flourishes,” Draco reminisced with a smile. “Gods, seeing him flung into a wall was one of my favourite memories for ages!”

Hermione laughed, “Yes well…it’s notable because he was so fucking useless at duelling, especially duelling Severus, that that was when we learned Harry was a parselmouth.”

“How?” James barked.

“I’ll get there,” she promised grimacing at him. “Anyway, the Chamber of Secrets opened that year.”

“The Chamber of Secrets is a myth,” Albus interjected, rebuking her gently.

“Tell that to the muggle-borns who were petrified for fucking months Albus,” Hermione spat. “Or Ginny Weasley who was taken to the chamber or Harry who…”

“Princess. Focus,” Draco cut in softly. Hermione shut her mouth with an audible clack, her face still furious so Draco picked up the narrative. ”Muggleborns were getting petrified. Hermione and Penelope Clearwater were the last two.” He ignored the collective intake of breath. “She figured out that the monster in the Chamber was a basilisk. It was being controlled by a memory of Voldemort stored in a diary. A diary that possessed Ginny Weasley.”

“There is no Ginny Weasely,” one of the Prewett twins protested.

“There will be. Prepare yourself. Red is…fierce. Six brothers will do that I suppose.”

“Six! Molly has another one?”

“Ron.” Hermione cut in softly, her expression wistful. 

Horrified understanding flooded the Prewetts' faces. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” she smiled back sadly. 

“Anyway,” Draco interjected, squeezing Hermione's hand, “Hermione worked it out, Potter found the page in her hand when he snuck into the hospital wing to visit, so he knew what it was and how it was getting around. They worked out that Myrtle had been murdered by the beast the last time so they went to her bathroom. The entrance to the Chamber is there. I don't know the whole story but ultimately Lockheart ended up with Potter and the Weasel. His memory charm backfired leaving him….inpatient material for the Janus Thickey ward.”

“Ron's wand broke when he and Harry flew Arthur’s car to school….it hadn't been working all year that's why it backfired,” Hermione explained. 

“Car? They flew a car to school! Wicked!” James grinned.

“They were seen my several muggles. Severus nearly murdered them when they finally got to Hogwarts,” Hermione replied drily. 

Sirius waved his hand. “Still cool.”

Hermione snorted, “Sure Pads. Anyway, Harry rescued Ginny, killed the basilisk and shoved a fang through the diary, thus killing the first Horcrux.”

“What? No! Come on….you can't just say it like that!” Sirius whined, “He killed a fucking Basilisk! We need more details!”

“I wasn't there, I don't have them. It died, he shoved the sword of Gryffindor through its mouth. Bye, bye basilisk. Oh but in case no one picked up on it, Hagrid is most definitely innocent and you should probably do something about allowing him to finish his education.”

“Where in the name of Circe were the adults!” Charlus thundered as the enormity of what Hermione said sunk in. Everyone in the room flinched. “If a thirteen-year-old girl could figure it out, why couldn’t anyone else! And you!” he rounded on Hermione who reared back in shock, “Does the library not have a librarian in your time!”

“What? Of course, it does.”

“Then why didn’t you bloody tell them and let them summon a teacher!”

Hermione flushed, “I didn't think of it.”

Charlus pinched the bridge of his nose, “You didn't think of it? For the love of Merlin. You’re grounded. Indefinitely. Forever. Yes…forever. Forever is good.”

Hiding a smile and ignoring everyone's stunned expressions, Dorea made her way back towards him. “You need to calm down, darling.” 

“Calm down! Calm down! Our thirteen.”

“Twelve.” Draco interrupted with a mischievous grin, guessing where this was going. 

“Our twelve-year-old grandson killed a fucking monster with not an adult in sight and our thirteen-year-old granddaughter didn’t think to alert an adult when she figured out what said beast was when apparently the entirety of Hogwarts could not! What the bloody fuck was the Ministry doing while you were all busy doing their jobs for them?”

“The Ministry?” Draco echoed clearly confused, his grin fading immediately. 

“Yes! What were they doing!”

“I…don't think they were doing anything.'' Hermione ventured. “I don't even know if they knew.”

It was abundantly clear that was the wrong thing to say as Charlus’ face went through a surprising rainbow of colours in a short space of time. “What in the name of Godric were you thinking!” he bellowed, looking at Dumbledore. “The list of things that petrify is minuscule! Why weren't the Unspeakables involved?”

“Again, I must confess as to having no idea. It has not happened.”

“Nor will it! We are dealing with it! Soon!” Albus merely nodded. 

“Fuck, I don’t really want to start third year,” Hermione muttered. 

“It cannot possibly be worse,” Charlus stated, aghast.

“Don't be so sure,” Draco murmured. “Those three were fucking magnets for trouble.”

“Where were you during this?” Remus asked curiously.

“In Slytherin, keeping my head down, mainly.”

“Wishing me dead….calling me mudblood,” Hermione interjected with a smile, falling back into their own macabre version of teasing about his previous behaviour without thinking about her audience.

“What?” Sirius howled, standing up and pulling her around James and into his side. “What the fuck do you mean he called you a mudblood and wished you dead?”

“Thanks for that, Princess,” Draco grimaced. “Time and place, remember?”

Hermione pulled away from Sirius laughing, “Calm down, Puppy. I broke his nose in third year in retaliation for his fucking awfulness. Apparently, he's a closet masochist because we were together by fourth after a really, really long, grovelling apology for being a prejudiced prat.”

“It had better have been seriously long,” Sirius grumbled, not looking convinced.

“Oh, it was. I made him get down on his knees and beg,” she grinned. “It's good to lay the groundwork young.”

Remus spat out his whiskey at Hermione's lecherous wink.

“You might just be my favourite Potter,” Sirius grinned, his stance loosening once he realized that she really was ok.

“Oh my God,” Lily groaned. “No…no you cannot do innuendo and sex jokes. I forbid it! It's bad enough with this lot!”

“Innuendo and sex jokes?” she asked innocently. “Lily we were fourteen…..I just meant he learned how to apologise like he meant it….I don't think I like what you're implying!”

Lily turned a violent shade of red and began spluttering apologies before Hermione grinned. “He didn't learn that version of an apology until fifth year.”

Draco covered his face and groaned, “Remind me why I love you?”

Ignoring the laughing Marauders and disconcertingly, Charlus, Hermione patted him on the head. “Because I’m fucking awesome?”

“That you are,” Sirius agreed, with a grin.

Draco scowled, removing his hands from his face. “Don't encourage her!”

Hermione laughed, wrapping her arm around him in silent apology for having started the conversation in the first place. “Right….let's get third year over with. Then I want a really long bath and a bottle of firewhiskey.”

“You can have one of those things.” Dorea conceded. 

“Do I get to pick which one?” she asked hopefully.

“No.”

Sighing, Hermione turned back towards the watching group. They really had been incredibly patient….or stunned. One of the two. 

“Third year began with Dementors on the train”

“What!” Minerva exclaimed. “Dementors?”

“Yes. Sirius Black had escaped Azkaban and was hunting Harry….or so we were told. We met Professor Lupin that year. Boggarts in a group setting aside, he was the best Defense Professor we’d had so far.”

“You know you made that sound like a compliment when you said it before, but I’m not seeing much competition,” Remus interjected drily.

Hermione grinned, “Oh but Professor….you’d never won Witch Weekly's most charming smile!”

Remus looked back at her horrified, “Lockheart?”

“Yes,” Draco spat. “His favourite colour is lilac….go on, ask me how I know?”

“How do you know?” Lily asked, playing along.

“Because it was a question on the quiz he set us to test our knowledge during his first class. I’ll take group boggarts any day of the week.”

There was slightly muted laughter at that statement. “Anyway….Everything was reasonably fine all year. Crookshanks, my cat, kept trying to eat Ron's rat, Scabbers. Turned out he had a rather firm friendship with a stray dog.”

“Stray dog?” Augusta asked 

“Yup definitely stray,” Sirius glowered. “I had a time turner that year.”

“A time turner?” Dorea repeated faintly. 

“Ah yes…I wanted to take all the electives,” Hermione muttered, blushing.

“You used a time turner so you could do more school work?” James asked, horrified. 

“Oh fuck off, I’m muggleborn, remember? You lot don't tell us anything and just sort of expect us to figure it out.”

“But one of those classes is Muggle studies!”

“I wanted to see how they taught it from a wizarding perspective!”

“Oh, my gods….” Sirius groaned. “I thought Moony was bad! But this….this is….no. Tell me you did something fun with it?”

“Saved and rode a hippogriff, saved you from the Kiss, and escaped a werewolf?”

Sirius’ jaw dropped “Ah yup….that would probably count,” he replied faintly. 

“Did you say you saved Sirius from the Kiss?” Charlus cut in, his expression furious. 

“Ah yes?”

“Why?”

“Because he didn't deserve it!” Hermione replied indignantly

“No..no you misunderstand me. You had a time turner but why did you have to do it?”

“Oh ah….Dumbledore told Harry and I that no one would believe us if we told the Minister that Sirius was innocent and that Peter wasn't anywhere near as dead as everyone thought. It was his idea that we go back.”

Everyone jumped as Albus Dumbledore went flying into the wall, Charlus’ wand pointed straight at him, his face white with rage. “You sent two third years back in time to do a job that either an adult should have done or more realistically shouldn't have had to happen in the first place?” he thundered.

A witch Hermione vaguely registered was a younger Amelia Bones, stood. “Quite. The DMLE has ways of verifying memories, of course we wouldn't discount a child’s!”

Albus stood stiffly, keeping his eyes on Charlus and his wand. “I would like to remind you that I am not yet him. I have done nothing.”

It didn't seem to quell Charlus’ ire. The man looked close to committing murder. “Charlus….” Hermione called softly. “Charlus…oh Merlin. Grandfather!”

Charlus jumped, refocusing his surprised attention on her, “Lower you wand. It was…years ago. And I imagine you’ll want slightly more of an explanation about Peter.”

He nodded stiffly, elbowing James out the road and wrapping an arm around Hermione, not wanting to admit how relieved he was she allowed it. What on Earth had Albus been thinking? Time travel was still relatively new and considered exceedingly dangerous. Why would anyone entrust the lives of two others to two teenagers already battling the odds with all the rules involved? It made him uneasy just how blinkered they all appeared to have been when it came to the wizard. They had trusted him and apparently, he abused that trust.

“Professor Trelawney gave her second Prophecy to Harry. It was about Peter. When Peter was forced by Remus and Sirius to change from his animagus form, he said he was threatened by Voldemort, which is why he betrayed the Potters. He escaped that night and was directly responsible for his resurrection, thus fulfilling that particular prophecy. Apparently, the old fraud was right occasionally.”

“Where did I go…after you saved me from the Kiss?” Sirius asked shakily.

“You…moved around a lot with Buckbeak. You sent Harry exotic birds in place of owls. He…he absolutely adored you. I don't know if I mentioned you were his godfather. You made that summer he was shoved back to his Aunt’s one of his better ones. If nothing else, he was able to use you to threaten them with. Your escape had been covered by the muggle news so they knew who you were. “

“How did I escape?”

“Ah…perhaps a conversation with fewer ears?” she suggested, darting her eyes to Amelia who looked faintly amused. 

“Later, then.”

“Right. I think we all need to process that,” Dorea cut in. “Everyone out. We’ll start fourth year tomorrow.”

The Order trouped out without question, most of them too stunned to do anything else, leaving the house's occupants to regroup. 

It took a long time before any of them were ready to leave the table. Sirius was surrounded by James and Remus. Charlus was clinging to Hermione tightly. None of them were really able to process the magnitude of what Hermione and Draco had revealed. All Remus could think, as he gripped Sirius’ hand tightly in his own as if the Aurors were coming to cart him away now, was that these were the years Hermione had described as not being that bad. 

Chapter Text

They went to bed that night with a sense of trepidation. Their week of dreamless sleep was up and now they had to face the night without it. If the aches they felt in the morning were anything to go by, it was not going to be pleasant.

“Bottoms up,” Hermione murmured, drinking the concoction of nerve potions Madam Pomphrey had prescribed in a long gulp. It really was vile. She missed Severus even more then. He’d have figured out a way to make it palatable or at the very least he'd have tried. 

“Ready for this, Princess?”

“No,” she snorted before she looked at him with something nearing fear. “Draco? Perhaps we need to cast a silencing charm,”

Draco sighed but nodded. “I’ll do it. Get into bed.”

She hummed, snuggling down underneath the covers as the beginnings of pins and needles started in her hands and feet. “Fuck, this is going to be fucking awful, isn’t it?”

“Probably,” Draco shrugged with exaggerated nonchalance, unwilling to let her see how bothered he was. She cuddled into him once he was settled, both of them desperately trying to ignore the pins and needles as they morphed into burning. 

A few hours of fitful sleep later, Draco jolted upright as a scream tore through the air, regretting it immediately as pain slammed into his body. Frantically, he reached for his wand with clumsy fingers, casting a shaky Lumos. Beside him, Hermione was thrashing, her back bowed like she was being crucioed. If her screams were anything to go by, that's exactly what she was dreaming about. 

“Princess,” he murmured, shaking her gently, “Princess, you need to wake up.” 

It was slow going. His body didn't seem to want to obey his commands and the pain made him want to vomit. When she finally woke, she shoved her wand so hard under his chin that he yelped.

“Fuck! Fuck, I’m so sorry!” she sobbed, once she realised what she had done, dropping the wand immediately. 

“It's ok,” he murmured, rubbing his jaw with the hand that wasn't holding her to him. 

“It's not ok! I could have really hurt you!”

“But you didn't.”

“But I could have!” She gasped, as pain shot through her body.

“You didn't though. Stay with me, Princess. Go back to sleep.” 

She let out a laugh that was mostly a sob. “Fuck, this hurts. How are you so calm?”

“I’ve had worse,” he muttered, refusing to look her in the eye. He knew what he’d see and he was barely holding it together as it was; he couldn't handle her pity as well. Neither of them slept again until light began to force its way through the curtains, both of them finally giving in to the exhaustion. 

Several hours later, a still tired Hermione looked up from the book on warding she was reading when she sensed someone entering the library. It took all of her willpower not to reach for her wand as she did so.

“Remus,” she smiled, noting that he looked more uncomfortable than she had ever seen him. “Is everything alright?”

“I was the werewolf, wasn't I?”

“Pardon?”

“The wolf you escaped from. It was me, wasn't it?”

“Ah. Well yes, but there were….extenuating circumstances.”

“How can you stand to be in the same room as me! I could have killed you!” If possible, he looked even more wretched than before her confirmation.

“But you didn't. Sit down Remus, let me explain.” He sat with ill grace, clearly berating himself inside his own head as Hermione fought the urge to sigh. One day, he was going to have to stop hating himself. “There is…or will be, I’m not entirely sure when it was invented, a potion. It's called wolfsbane, Damocles Belby creates it. It allows you to keep your mind during the transformation.” Remus’ jaw dropped. “It’s vile apparently, and you have to take it every night for the week leading up to the full moon. That night, you saw Peter on the map along with Sirius, with Harry, Ron, and I in the vicinity. You had no idea what to believe, and so you ran, forgetting the potion.” She held up her hand when he went to interrupt. “Yes, it was stupid. Yes, you should have known better but…you hadn’t seen Sirius in almost thirteen years, the friend you thought was dead was magically alive, and the boy you thought of as family was beside them both and likely in danger. Under the circumstances, it's not unforgivable. And Remus….” She paused wondering whether this was her place. 

“What?”

“How long have you been with Sirius?”

Remus froze. “I... what?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “An awful lot more makes sense now that I’ve seen you in this time. How long?”

“Since fifth year,” he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face tiredly.

Hermione smiled gently, “I have no idea what happened when you were sent to the packs. You never admitted your relationship and to my knowledge, you never resumed it either. He’s asked you to go already, hasn’t he? None of you seemed surprised when I mentioned it before.”

“Who? Dumbledore?”

“Yes.”

“Yes. A couple of weeks before you came, actually. He thinks…”

“He's wrong. The only wolf who’ll have any impact on this war and the next is Greyback. Refuse.”

“Are you sure?” he asked carefully. 

“Yes. Yes, I’m sure. Your talents are better served elsewhere and it makes you hate yourself.”

“Ok,” he exhaled heavily, trusting that she wouldn’t lie to him. “I don't see that conversation going well.”

Hermione snorted, “No I imagine not. He does not like being told no. Treat him as you would a particularly spoiled toddler and you should be fine.”

Remus looked momentarily scandalised before he laughed. “I owe him,” he said softly.

“Not this," she argued gently. "I understand he allowed you entry into Hogwarts when most would not, but for that, what you owe him is making sure to use that education as best you can. That is not by infiltrating the packs who will see that you live in our world, not theirs. They don't like it and they won't trust you.”

He nodded slowly, “Ok. I guess I can try. Hermione? The potion….”

“Can I brew it?” he nodded again. “Probably, although Draco is probably a better bet. He is, annoyingly, better at potions than I am. I blame it on him having access to Severus for his entire life, although he says that makes me petty.”

Remus laughed. “The Severus you talk about seems so very different to the one we knew,” he said softly.

Hermione sighed. “I’m not sure what about bullying him four to one made you think you knew him at all,” she replied pointedly.

Remus flinched. “Fair point.” 

“Perhaps next time you meet you’ll see beyond the preconceived ideas you had. Perhaps, by some miracle, he’ll even do the same.”

Remus snorted. “Ah, so you are aware he has flaws. I was beginning to wonder,” he teased.

“We all have flaws, Professor,” she replied primly, her lip twitching into a reluctant smile.

“What? No! For the love of Merlin don’t tell Sirius that, you’ll make him cry. That man thinks he’s perfect.”

Hermione laughed. “That he does.

“The meeting tonight has been postponed,” Charlus announced over dinner.

“Why?” Hermione asked, startled.

“We managed to convince one of the people you wished to speak to to meet with you,” he replied carefully, watching her face.

“Which one?” she asked curiously.

“Severus Snape.”

Hermione froze momentarily, not entirely sure she was ready to see him and have him not know her. Their relationship had been hard won, but at least they had both been coming at it from a place of not really knowing the other; to have to start over again now when they were so unequal made her want to cry. “I see,” she replied eventually. “Where are we meeting him? I assume not here?”

“No. He has a home.”

“He's letting us into his home?” Draco asked incredulously. “What on earth did you say to him?”

“Lily wrote to him. She’ll be joining you.”

“Ah,” Hermione replied softly, taking in James' thunderous face. “Very well, what time?”

“Seven. Lily knows where it is.”

“So do we,” Draco muttered. “Up for some more decorating, Princess?”

Hermione snorted. “No. Christ, it was hard enough to convince him the first time and he bloody liked me then. We both know there's no chance in hell this time around. Not currently anyway.”

Draco laughed as he was expected to, reaching for her hand under the table. Tonight would be hard. The image of Severus being murdered by that damn snake played through his head and all he had done was listen to the retelling. He couldn’t imagine how much worse it was for Hermione who had witnessed it. They had so many memories of Severus, most of them good ones. He hadn't been lying when he said that Severus had loved Hermione. He had, and in return she had adored him, loving him wholeheartedly in a way that Severus craved and Draco’s upbringing had prevented him from attempting. For him not to know her at all tonight was going to devastate her, regardless of how well she prepared herself. He just had to hope that she was able to pull herself back from it. 

They left after dinner, apparating to the location that hadn't changed in twenty years. Lily met them in the abandoned alley before they all began walking towards the dilapidated Spinners End. Severus had clearly been waiting on them, likely not believing Lily would come; the door was wrenched open the minute they reached the gate outside his home. It struck Draco immediately how young his godfather was. It was more than a little disconcerting. Some of his presence was missing. He wasn't stupid; the man staring them down was clearly Severus but perhaps…not quite.

“You look like Lucius,” Severus said the moment the door was closed. Hermione's grip on Draco’s hand was painful, her spine ramrod straight as she stood beside him. He knew without looking that she was crying. On his other side, Lily just looked awkward. 

“We need a vow before we say anything,” Hermione demanded thickly. 

“And you are?” Severus sneered, before recoiling at the devastation that he read on her face. “Do I know you?” he asked hesitantly wondering what on Earth he’d done to make the girl look at him like that. He had never met her before; he was sure of it. If nothing else he’d remember that hair. 

Hermione shook her head, the tears falling faster. “I know you though,” she whispered. 

Severus looked from Hermione to Draco, to Lily before he sat down heavily on the tattered sofa. “What is going on?”

“We need a vow,” Hermione reiterated. 

“No.” She nodded, clearly having expected that. “Very well. The letter Lily sent means you won't be able to tell anyone we were here. I enchanted the parchment. When….when things seem like they cannot get worse, when he crosses a line you cannot ignore, send Lily another letter. We’ll talk then.”

“Wait!” he demanded when it became obvious they were intending to leave. “Are you a Seer?”

Draco couldn't contain the snort at that, hearing the echoes of a much younger Hermione rant about the uselessness of Divination. “No,” Hermione replied, her lip twitching slightly. 

“What are the terms of the vow you require?”

“You cannot discuss what we are about to tell you with anyone we’ve not approved. In case I’ve misjudged you completely, you cannot work against us and you cannot help others to.”

Severus frowned, his eyes darting briefly to Lily. “Very well…I am sufficiently curious.”

Hermione blinked, clearly unsure. “You're agreeing to this? Right now?” she checked. 

“Why come to me at all if you didn't expect me to agree?” he grumbled in response.

“Honestly? Because you’re fucking paranoid and I thought it would have to stew for months before you gave in to the curiosity.”

Severus let out a startled laugh clearly not having expected that answer. “I’m not entirely convinced I’m not fucking hallucinating to be honest. Lily and a Lucius lookalike are in my living room. It’s more than a little strange. I’ll admit to not being sure where you fit into it. You don’t look like anyone I've ever seen before. I think you might be more hair than human. A human, pygmy puff hybrid perhaps. I wonder if that's possible.”

“Oi!” Draco interjected. “I like her hair!”

Severus blinked. “OK…Lucius-a-like,” he drawled. “Although to be fair, paying for a human pygmy puff hybrid would be something Lucius would do with his galleons. You speak remarkably well for a pygmy puff.”

“Are you high?” Hermione demanded sharply. 

“I’m not sure,” Severus replied thoughtfully. “Perhaps.”

“Oh my God." She growled exasperatedly, before turning to Draco, "Check him for substances. I can’t tie someone into an unbreakable vow if they’re high regardless of how fucking much he’d deserve it.”

Draco raised his wand and began casting, Severus sat watching with interest, clearly not believing any of this was real. “I never imagined pygmy puffs were so foul-mouthed,” he mused.

“He’s clean” Draco reported, barely containing his laugh. 

“Fuck really? That's…actually more concerning. Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure, Princess.”

“Princess? Princess of what? Do Pygmy puffs have royalty? It must be dreadful when the pet shops steal your subjects.”

“Oh my dear God.” Hermione groaned. “Seriously, he's clean?”

“Yup,” Draco replied, grinning. 

“Right. Up!” Hermione commanded. “You’ll be bonded to me.”

“I don't want to be enslaved by the Pygmy puffs.”

“Oh fuck right off you fucking wanker. Are we doing this or not?”

“Very well, your fluffy Highness,” he poked her hair and she growled. 

“Draco?”

Biting his lip to stop himself from laughing lest Hermione actually snap and hex him, Draco took Severus through the vow, wondering what on Earth was going through his godfather's head. This behaviour was odd, even for him.

“Right. This is Draco Malfoy and I am Hermione Potter. We’re from the future.”

At that Severus started laughing until he cried. Hermione closed her eyes praying for patience, while Lily, sensing her increasing struggle to hold on to her control, decided that leaving the room before someone was cursed was wise. Moving to the kitchen, she busied herself making tea. 

“I have no idea what the fuck I’ve taken but I will figure it out. This has been the most entertaining night I’ve had in years,” Severus grinned. 

“Severus Tobias Snape!” Hermione shrieked. “I swear to fucking Merlin I am going to fucking hex you! This is not a fucking dream you utter arsehole!”

“Not a dream?” 

“No!”

“Are you sure?”

“For fucks sake!” At that Hermione sent a stinging hex towards his arm. 

“Ow!” Severus yelped before he stood abruptly and reached for Hermione's hand, pulling her up and studying her closely. “You're real!”

“No fucking shit Sherlock!”

“I’m not hallucinating?”

“No!”

“Oh. Well, fuck.”

Draco snorted. “I think this is the point where you apologise to Hermione…Godfather.”

“Godfather?” Severus said faintly, looking like he’d seen a ghost. 

Draco shrugged. “Yes. I’m not going to lie, I don't entirely know what magic still stands or if you’ll be able to feel it but we used to be able to. I can try the spell.”

Severus shook his head, his face completely blank. “Veritaserum,” he finally rasped. “I, fuck, this is unbelievable.”

“Trust us, we know.” 

Severus stood abruptly and swept from the room. “He's always done the dramatic exit thing then,” Hermione mused. “Where did Lily go?”

Draco inclined his head. “I think she was hiding in case you hexed him for being a ridiculous arse.”

“It was fucking close,” she muttered as Severus returned, slapping a small bottle down on the table. 

“Prove it’s veritaserum,” Draco demanded. Rolling his eyes, Severus placed one drop on his tongue. “Three, I know the Dark Lord is building up your tolerance. One won’t do anything.”

Severus’ eyes widened before he did as he was bid, wondering if this was a test sent from the Dark Lord. He wouldn't put it past him. The man was fucking insane…and paranoid.

“Full name.”

“Severus Tobias Snape”

“Who murdered your father.”

“My….fuck,.....my mother.”

Draco nodded. “Fine. Working veritaserum.”

Taking the antidote, Severus glowered. “How the fuck did you know to ask that?”

“Because you told me once. I knew that currently, it's not something you’d voluntarily admit,” Draco replied coolly. 

“You had no right!”

“Given what we’re about to share we had to be sure.”

“Enough,” Hermione cut in. “Lily, you don't have to stay. If you want to speak to Severus then we'll arrange it for another time,”

Lily hesitated in the doorway of the kitchen. “I…”

“Go. The wards have been adjusted; we'll get back.” Nodding, she apparated out before Severus could voice the objection he very clearly wanted to. 

“Explain. Now,” he growled at them instead.

“You know, you're much more imposing in our time. It's…sort of like a puppy trying to be a guard dog currently,” Hermione said lightly, ignoring the glower on his face.

Severus' jaw dropped, and Draco decided to intervene before wands became involved. “Right. As Hermione said, we're from the future. 1998 to be specific. It’s…it’s fucking brutal.” Severus flinched. “Voldemort won. He won and he fucking destroyed everything. We’ve been on the run together for months, although Hermione left before me. She’s been on the run for just over a year. He’s insane. He doesn’t give a flying fuck about any of his followers or magic or anything but power and total control, and even then his focus wavers so no one really knows where they stand. Everyone was just too scared of him to do much about it.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because we're going to destroy him, and in our time you were on our side. We had to give you the option this time.”

“In less than a year there is going to be a prophecy,” Hermione said softly. “You'll overhear half before you're kicked out of the Hog’s Head. You'll take him that half. In return, he’ll hunt and eventually murder Lily.”

Severus went impossibly pale. “I kill her?”

Hermione sighed. “There's more to it, so we’ll go with you contributed to her death. You repented and threw yourself at Dumbledore's mercy. You were a spy until the day you died.”

“I’m dead in your time,” he stated blankly.

“Yes,” Hermione replied, the tears resuming.

“Who are you?”

“No one really. I’m muggleborn.” 

“You said you were a Potter!”

“I'm an adopted Potter. Lily's son adopted me when we had no family left. We needed it. Before, I was a muggleborn Gryffindor who drove you fucking insane for three years. You warmed up to me in fourth year when Draco forced you to.”

“You're together?” he asked in surprise.

“Yes. Since fourth year. My father was as thrilled as you're imagining he would be when he eventually found out. My mother knew, and it eventually cost her her life. Bella killed her when she allowed us all to escape after I couldn’t handle watching my Aunt Bella torture Hermione.”

“Fuck,” Severus hissed, his eyes wild. “Fuck! What am I meant to do with this?”

“He's made Horcruxes. Five, we think, in this time. We intend to destroy them.”

“Horcruxes?” 

“Yes. We also intend to reach out to Regulus Black. Perhaps you can help with that. You told us once that you were friends?” Hermione asked with a tilt of her head. If you didn’t focus too much on the subject matter, it was almost amusing to see him look so unravelled. She had always envied his ability to control his emotions. She was shit at it, and it was reassuring that he had been once too.

“You…you can't just drop it on me that he's made Horcruxes and continue on like it's normal!” 

“I was hunting them for almost a year,” Hermione shrugged. “Harry destroyed one in our second year….Dumbledore in our fifth. It's not, not normal, I suppose.”

“Why the fuck were you hunting them and not a fucking adult? Are you even of age?”

“Yes. We’re of age. And because Dumbledore is an arse?” Hermione offered.

Severus glared. “I was asking a serious question!”

“I was giving a serious answer. The man knew so much more than he ever told us. He gave us fucking nothing to go on and now they’re all fucking dead. All of them bar us.”

Severus flinched at her tone. “Everyone?”

“Everyone,” she agreed. “I think I may hate him more than I hate Voldemort. At least he was fucking upfront about his murderous tendencies.”

“I can imagine,” Severus said slowly. “What do you want from me?”

Hermione sighed. “We want you on our side. I understand you won’t believe us but we miss you. You were about the only adult in our lives who didn’t patronise us or deliberately keep us in the dark. You’ll loathe this but Sirius Black and Remus Lupin were the other two. I don't need you to like one another. I just need you to manage some level of polite civility until we end this.”

“And are they promising the same thing?” he sneered. 

“Yes.” 

“And you trust them to stick to it?”

“I trust them to not want to be on the other end of my wand. I’ve been fighting since I was fucking twelve.”

“Twelve?” he asked, aghast.

“Drawbacks of being friends with the Chosen One,” she replied dryly. “We managed to not battle Death Eaters until I was fifteen, which quite frankly given our school years feels like some sort of miracle.”

“You battled Death Eaters at fifteen,” he repeated faintly.

“Yes, inside the Department of Mysteries. Not somewhere I'm in a rush to go back to funnily enough.”

“Why do I feel like I've missed half the story?”

“Because you have,” Hermione responded cheerfully. “I’ll see if I can convince them to let you into the next Order meeting. We’re covering fourth, fifth, and sixth year.”

“Fucking hell,” Severus groaned. “No one is going to let me into an Order meeting! What the hell makes you think I even want to?”

“You’ve not kicked us out yet. You’re also not stupid. I know you don't believe in this mindless violence he’s advocating now that you’ve got that lovely tattoo on your arm. I know you know it’s not right and I absolutely know that you don’t hate Muggleborns. As for the Order, I think they will. I’ll need some sort of additional vow from you to appease them; some of them aren't the most rational and you’ll need to sign an enchanted parchment despite the vow because they’ll panic if you don’t and we don’t need to give them reasons to distrust you. I assume He’ll ask what you’re up to and you’ll need to spin it. Maybe tell him before he asks, actually. Oh, and Hogwarts is looking for a potions professor. It’ll give more credence to your story, assuming you go with the whole ‘spying on Dumbledore’ angle.”

“You want me to teach?” he asked, horrified. 

“You’re shite at it, but yes,” she laughed. “Perhaps work on being less of an arse to your students and you’ll be better. We understand that you’re stupidly intelligent and can’t understand why everyone doesn’t grasp concepts as quickly as you, but, from experience, terrifying your students to the point they can’t think straight is not conducive to them learning anything.”

Severus let his glare speak for him. He truly couldn't think of anything worse than teaching potions to incompetent brats. Someone would be dead within the first week. Him, most likely.

He watched the strange girl talking animatedly on his sofa next to Lucius Malfoy's doppelganger and wondered what the fuck he was doing. He’d just allowed two total strangers to tie him into an unbreakable vow that would be his cause of death should his Lord ever find out because he had been convinced he was hallucinating. The things they were saying were utterly unbelievable. But for some reason he trusted them, which was fucking insane. He didn't trust anyone. But that girl with her ridiculous hair had looked at him like she not only knew him, but that she liked him. He couldn't remember anyone since Lily looking at him like that. 

And to give their story legitimacy, they looked like they’d be fighting. It was a sobering thought. She was right about him regretting signing up, about him not enjoying the mindless violence and fear that some of his brothers in arms seemed to thrive on. If she was right about that, perhaps she was right about other things? He wanted out; he had since the Mark was branded onto his arm. Perhaps these two strangers would be the key. And if they managed to get Lily to speak to him again, if they kept her safe, he’d agree to just about anything they wanted.

Chapter Text

“How are things?” Dorea asked, sitting down opposite Hermione. Draco had disappeared to play quidditch with the boys and she was hiding in the library lest James force her onto a broomstick. Again.

“Alright,” Hermione sighed. “I’ll be glad when that bloody nerve potion is done. I’m exhausted and it still hurts if I’m honest. But other than that it's…strange. More than being here, it's strange to be still, to have time. I feel like I should be doing more than I am.”

Dorea’s eyebrows rose. “And what more could you be doing, my granddaughter?”

“Destroying the Horcruxes, finding out if they're in the same place, catching the Death eaters. Something. Anything that isn't sitting around talking.”

“You went through so much, Hermione,” Dorea sighed. “You need some time to heal or you won’t be strong enough for what’s next.”

“That’s what Draco said.”

“He's a surprisingly smart boy for having that peacock for a father.” 

Hermione snorted. “Yes, thankfully he eventually learned to think for himself.”

“Was Lucius aware of your relationship?”

“Towards the end,” Hermione whispered, her face taking on a haunted look. “Harry, Ron, and I were caught and taken to Malfoy Manor during that last year since Voldemort was living there. Bella separated me from the boys in order to get information. Draco couldn’t stay quiet when she began torturing me. Lucius realised then and removed him from the room. He fought back and we got out eventually…but it came at a cost. Narcissa figured it out at the end of our fourth year when Voldemort was resurrected and Draco wasn’t the enthusiastic baby Death Eater they’d raised him to be. I don’t think she understood, and I know she didn't approve, but she loved him so she bought us time to escape and Bella killed her for it. I…I feel so fucking guilty. If I had just been able to keep quiet, not shown how much it hurt…not been stupid enough to get fucking caught in the first place. He’d never have had to deal with that.”

“Oh, Hermione sweetheart. None of it is your fault,” Dorea murmured, her heart breaking all over again for the burden they had been forced to shoulder.

“Isn't it?” she asked, tears falling down her face. “We knew, we knew it was a good awful idea, that his father would never allow it. And for years we pretended that it would be ok. That we’d figure it out, even as the entire world was turning to shit and deep down we knew we were lying to ourselves and now…now we have no one left but each other. What if…what if once he's processed everything, he hates me for it? Or worse, what if he's only with me because there's no one else left?”

“Anyone with eyes can see that boy adores you. I have no idea what the future holds my girl, but I cannot see one where he hates you,” Dorea rebutted softly.

“I don’t think I know how to do this without him,” Hermione whispered. “But I’m really, really fucking scared that at some point I’m going to be forced to. Everyone was dead…I can’t…he can’t die too.”

“Oh, Hermione,” Dorea whispered, pulling her granddaughter to her, attempting to hold the pieces together as she fell apart. Apparently the cracks Poppy had warned her about were showing quicker than anticipated; it was a sobering thought. Not entirely sure what else she could do, she held her tightly, whispering soothing nonsense until she calmed down. 

Sirius found them two hours later. “Shit! I’ll just…” his eyes were wide as he took in the sight of Hermione cuddled tightly into Dorea. She really was a tiny thing, which was surprising given the force of her personality. 

“No, perhaps you’re just who we need,” Dorea voiced, looking at him intently, feeling emotionally wrung out after the brutally frank conversation with Hermione that had lasted longer than she realised. The Gods alone knew how she was feeling. It had been her life, after all.

“I want a…tattoo, I think.” Hermione supplied in answer to his startled look.

“A tattoo?” Sirius repeated dumbly.

Hermione nodded. “I…I need a way to remember them. A visual reminder of what we’re fighting for.”

“And you agree?” he asked, looking at Dorea.

“I think that regardless of my feelings on tattoos, Hermione has been forced to endure more than anyone should. If she thinks it’ll help then I won't disapprove. When we manage to end this, these people, her friends, will still be born, but they won't be hers. I cannot imagine how difficult that will be. A tangible reminder that her versions were just as real might be just the thing.”

“Do you know what you want?” Sirius asked curiously.

“I…I think so.” He arched a brow questioningly. “I want a snitch, a chess knight, a broomstick, fireworks, a mimblemus mimbletonia and…spectrespecs.”

“What in the name of Godric are spectrespecs?”

Hermione smiled sadly. “They’re glasses that almost look like hands with different coloured lenses that let you see wrackspurts.”

“What the fuck is a wrackspurt?”

Hermione let out a sob like laugh. “I have no idea.”

“Ok…ok Kitten, whatever you want.” Sirius eyed her with concern. “Can you draw a rough version of them?”

Hermione nodded, tears falling as her mind supplied the image of a tiny Luna Lovegood floating around the castle searching for the elusive wrackspurts with the Quibbler clutched in her hands, which fought for dominance against the image of her bloody and still body, of Draco forcing her to leave it, of the feral grin of her murderer as she did as she was told. 

“I’ll sort something for this week,” Sirius promised, backing out of the room, still looking concerned but ultimately deciding Dorea was better qualified to deal with the tears than he was. 

By the time Sirius got back home, the Order members were reassembling. He wasn't sure he was ready for this. He wasn't sure Hermione was ready for this. She seemed…more fragile than he’d seen her before, although Draco didn't seem to be overly concerned so perhaps he was reading too much into it. He was so distracted by his concerns he almost missed a clearly uncomfortable Severus Snape appearing in the doorway, scuttling across the room quickly to sit next to Draco. He almost fell out of his own seat. 

“He’s here on our invitation and he's sighed the same pieces of parchment you all have,” Draco spoke coldly, his eyes travelling around the room that had stopped talking to stare in disbelief. “It is not up for discussion.”

“Right, fourth year,” Hermione spoke loudly the moment everyone sunk into a slightly stunned silence, clearly making use of their inability to marshal their thoughts into an argument. “In their infinite wisdom the heads of Hogwarts, Durmstrang, and Beauxbatons, alongside the Ministry, decided to bring back the Triwizard tournament. Harry's name was entered and he became the fourth champion.”

“Fourth champion?” Frank Longbottom spluttered. 

“Yes. Now our defence professor that year was…well we’ll go with Alastor Moody.”

“Teach you a lot girlie?” Moody grinned.

“You cast unforgivables on spiders in our first class.” The entire room swivelled to look at him in horror. “Oh, for Merlin's sake, it wasn't really him. Not that we fucking knew it at the time, although one would think his old friend would have spotted that someone was impersonating him using polyjuice for the entirety of the sodding school year,” she interjected impatiently, looking pointedly at Dumbledore.

“Back to the fourth champion in the Triwizard tournament,” Augusta cut in sharply.

Hermione sighed. “The explanation is coming. Honest. That year the Quidditch world cup was held in Britain. Death Eaters had some of their unique brand of fun and destroyed the campsite and tortured some innocent muggles. During the commotion, Barty Crouch’s house elf was dismissed after she was found near the Dark Mark. It's important for later. Dumbledore made Harry compete in the tournament. The tasks were as brutal as you imagine, however, he completed them and was tied for first place with the other Hogwarts champion going into the third task. Before the third task, after Bagman had taken the champions down to the Quidditch pitch to explain what it was, Barty Crouch approached him and the Durmstrang Champion, Viktor Krum, appearing mad. Harry ran to get Dumbledore. They found Viktor stunned and Crouch missing. Again, it's important for later. 

The third task was a magical maze. No one could bloody see anything. I have no idea who the fuck thought that and sending the champions for a swim in the Black Lake constituted entertainment, but there you are.”

Draco snorted. “Ah, of course, that was the issue Princess: the tournament was boring. ”

“Oh, fuck off!”

Draco laughed as she scowled at him. “The maze was filled with obstacles. A lot happened but eventually, only Harry and Cedric, the other Hogwarts champion, were left. They took the cup together and it turned out to be an illegal portkey. Wormtail killed Cedric within moments of their arrival and then bound Harry so he could be used in Voldemort's resurrection ritual. There was a freaky clash of wands once Voldemort had an actual body again and Harry escaped back to Hogwarts with Cedric's body. Moody turned out to be Barty Crouch Jr. Senior had been keeping him under the imperius at home. His dying wife had convinced him to use Polyjuice and switch her out for Junior. But Junior escaped and started causing problems. He was responsible for Harry's name being in the Goblet and he sort of manoeuvred things so Harry got through the tournament to the cup. He kept his father under the imperius with the help of Wormtail in retaliation before he murdered him at Hogwarts while Harry was off to get Dumbledore. Fudge had him Kissed without allowing testimony,” Hermione continued.

“Dumbledore's Order of the little birdies reformed and he essentially put Black under house arrest. Wonderful idea, by the way, locking him up in the place his parents abused him after he'd already been locked up for twelve years in Azkaban,” Draco remarked casually, his stiff posture belying his tone.

“You made Sirius leave Harry just after he had witnessed a boy who had become a friend die. You gave them no fucking time! And then you sent Harry off to those fucking awful people and banned us!  Magically fucking banned us from telling him anything! He was there for weeks and you only relented when he was attacked by Dementors,” Hermione spat at Dumbledore, her face furious. 

“Dementors?” Dorea screeched.

Hermione waved her hand. “Two of them attacked Harry and his cousin. They were fine, thankfully. Harry had to have a whole trial in front of the entirety of the sodding Wizeongamot though, for using magic in front of a muggle. We’ll ignore that it was to save said muggle’s life and that the muggle in question was his bloody cousin who knew about magic anyway. And you , you wouldn’t fucking speak to him, you wouldn’t look at him, he was devastated and lost and a fucking teenage boy with no fucking family to speak of and fuck all support and you, you just ignored that.”

Draco grabbed her in alarm as she made towards the Headmaster. “You cannot hex him, Princess, however much the arse deserves it.”

“Why the fuck not!” she howled, spinning to face him. “I had forgotten in amongst all the shit of last year but that fucking summer nearly broke Harry. So why the fuck not!”

Draco gaped at her, not entirely sure what to say given that he desperately wanted to let her. “I…shit. Because this version of him hasn't done it yet?”

“So?”

Charlus came to stand beside them. “Unfortunately, Draco is right.” He pulled her into a hug, bending down to murmur in her ear, “You’ll get him, I promise. Once this is done. There’ll be a queue but you’ll get him.” Hermione sagged into the hug and nodded.

“Fifth year,” Draco spoke into the silence, ignoring the whispers around the room, “brought the fucking pink toad. The Prophet and the Ministry had spent all summer making Potter and Dumbledore out to be liars or insane depending on what they fancied that day. And as Dumbledore couldn't get a Defence Professor, we got a Ministry appointed one. A delightful woman called Delores Umbridge. If someone could just take her out for us, we’d be most grateful.”

“No,” Hermione growled. “That fucking cunt is mine.”

Even Draco’s eyes widened at her language. “Ah, alright then Princess. The toad’s yours,” he said, holding his hands up placatingly. 

“What did she do?” Lily asked, her eyes wide. 

“She was a fucking prejudiced arsehole who promoted blood purity and fucking tortured students.”

“Tortured students?” Minerva gasped.

“She used a blood quill in detentions,” she held up her hand showing faint scars, I will respect my betters etched into it. “Harry’s had I must not tell lies. Fred and Georges were indecipherable because they wrote each other's lines as well as their own so as to remain identical. She used it on fucking first years!”

“You will find this woman,” Dorea’s voice filled the room, despite being barely above a whisper, terrifying in its controlled menace. “You will find her and you will make sure she never gets near a child. Am I clear?”

There were nods around the room. “We’re pretty sure she’s in the Improper Use of Magic Office,” Fabian voiced. “Her name is uncomfortably familiar.”

“Get her out!” Dorea hissed. 

“We’ll sort it,” Amelia replied grimly. “So you had Umbridge. What else?”

“Dumbledore was removed as Headmaster and Umbridge became Headmistress. Hermione set up an illegal defence group that she made Harry teach because Umbridge refused to allow us to do anything practical. She was under the delightful illusion that we wouldn’t be attacked, or so she said. In reality, the Ministry was worried Dumbledore was building an army to oust Fudge. In a bid to remove Hagrid, Umbridge stormed his house at night during our Astronomy O.W.L. McGonagall went to assist Hagrid but was taken out by five stunners and had to be moved to St. Mungos. Potter had a vision that Voldemort was torturing Sirius in the DOM during our History of Magic exam. He and several others broke into Umbridge’s office to try and contact Headquarters. Sirius’ elf claimed he wasn't at Grimmauld, but he lied. Umbridge and her Inquisitorial Squad, a sort of warped version of Prefects, caught them, but because they refused to tell her anything, the bitch threatened to crucio Potter. Hermione conned her into the Forbidden Forest and left her to the mercies of the centaurs. Miss anything so far?”

“Harry saw Arthur Weasley get attacked by Voldemort's snake while on an order mission in a…dream I suppose. He had…an unnatural connection to Voldemort. It's why when he saw the vision of Sirius he believed it. We tried to pass a message to Severus, but because of his cover, he had to pretend not to understand. Harry wouldn't believe me when I said it wasn't an act and so a group of us flew to the Ministry. Regardless of what I believed, I couldn't let him go without me.”

Draco held her hand tightly, hating to relive this. The fear he had felt when he realised none of them were on school grounds had been close to overwhelming and despite that, he knew it was worse for her. 

“It was a trap,” she whispered. “They were waiting on us. The minute Harry picked up that damn prophecy they appeared and we were outnumbered. The Order came eventually but it was…a brutal introduction to battle. They were out to kill us and we were still using stunning spells. Christ, Gin and Luna were only fourteen. There had also been an Azkaban breakout beforehand so Bella was unfortunately present. They blamed it on Sirius, claiming that he was rounding up his Lord’s most faithful, playing on the fact that Bella was his cousin. Sirius…he…fucking hell,” she trailed off looking lost, the tears already pouring down her face, her eyes trained on Sirius.

“He died that night. Bella killed him. Dolohov almost killed Hermione. And the Death eaters that had failed to escape were imprisoned after the Ministry was forced to admit he was back. Even Fudge couldn't pretend he hadn't seen him,” Draco finished for her, his voice gentle as he watched Hermione try to keep herself together. He didn’t dare look at Sirius. He couldn't imagine how it would feel to be confronted by your own death.

“And then! And then you fucking sent Harry back to those muggles!” Hermione sobbed, turning to glare at Dumbledore. “You just….” she waved a hand losing her grip on her composure as she launched herself at a startled Sirius. 

“Fuck! Hey, come on now Kitten. I’m not dead yet,” he murmured, gripping her as tightly as she was gripping him, anchoring himself to something real as he processed his own death. 

“You can't die at all!” she wailed.

He laughed, although even he could hear how strained it sounded. “We all die sometime, Kitten.”

“Promise me! Not for years, decades!”

“Centuries? I'll do my best, Kitten,” he murmured into her hair, not daring to look at Remus or James for fear of what he’d see on their faces. He could hear Lily and Dorea crying. He had a horrible feeling that McGonagall wasn't as composed as she usually was either, which made everything worse. Deciding he couldn't cope with that right now, he focused on holding the fragile little powerhouse that was currently sobbing into his shirt. Everything else could wait. 

Chapter Text

“I think we all need a break,” Dorea said faintly, not sure that she could stand any more tonight. It had been a long day already, with Hermione constantly close to the edge as the sheer scale of the horrors she’d been forced to live through seemed to hit her all at once now that she had time to fall apart. Dorea was trying to keep them all together while watching her adopted son cling to her adopted granddaughter, both of them barely keeping the pieces together, as her son and the boy she assumed would one day be her son-in-law couldn't keep the devastation from their faces. It was all too much. They were just children. 

“Dorea, I really do think it would be best…” Albus began.

“No! No, you thinking you knew what was best got us into this fucking mess!” she screeched, feeling the dam burst. She sent a stinging hex at the infuriating man, determinedly ignoring the immediate stunned silence. “Look at them! Fucking look! They are children! They are children and look at what you’ve done to them! Get out of my house! Get out! We’ll contact you when I can stand to be in the same bloody room as you without wanting to fucking murder you!”

“Mum…” James voiced hesitantly as she raised her wand again, positive that he had never seen his mother so out of control. Merlin, he wasn't sure he had ever heard even the tamest of curses come out her mouth and now…now she sounded like Hermione. Apparently his daughter, because despite his concession to her protests that's what she was, was a really bad influence on her grandmother.

“What!” His mother barked, whirling wildly to look at him.

James felt his eyes widen involuntarily. “I was just going to suggest that we head to the living room and that perhaps we could all do with a drink?”

Slowly, his mother nodded and he felt his body sag with relief. 

“Are you going to be alright?” Charlus murmured, seating himself beside his wife after ensuring everyone else made it through the floo.

“I…I imagine I’ll have to be,” she replied, holding her glass tightly in her hands. “I don't know how they did it. I don't know how they manage to get up every day and face this. We both know that it's only going to get worse, but how much worse can it possibly get? Sirius died. Hermione almost died. Children thought that they had no adult they could trust and grown adults thought it was ok to try and murder them. What are we doing Charlus?”

“Attempting to stop it?” he suggested gently. 

“I know, but how much longer before that girl breaks? Albus… Albus doesn't seem to be able to understand, nor does he seem to try to, and that scares me.”

Charlus’ eyes drifted over to where Hermione was wrapped tightly around Draco. Sirius and Remus were in touching distance at her side, the boy's hands entwined in a white knuckled grip. James and Lily sat at the floor in front of Hermione, James’s hand wrapped around Sirius’ ankle as if to reassure himself he was still there, his eyes darting wildly around the rest of the room every few moments as if expecting that one of them would disappear if he didn’t keep his eyes on them. Charlus was sure that it was only the worry that he wouldn't be able to hold himself together that stopped James from inserting himself in between Sirius and Hermione and holding on tighter.

“I think… I think she's far stronger than you give her credit for and we both know that she's no longer alone. Look at them.”

“I know,” Dorea whispered. “But that scares me too. She's going to be front and centre in this war, even without Albus being Albus, and they’re going to follow her. I can't lose them, Charlus. Any of them.”

“Then we come up with a plan that means you won't have to,” he soothed.

“Does such a plan exist?” she asked, slightly desperately.
“If anyone could find it, it would be you, love.”

“Tell us something… something good,” Lily begged, once Charlus and Dorea had gone to bed, her eyes on the girl she knew was family, even if she wasn't sure how. Magic knew and she was learning to trust it.

“I…fuck there were good times, there were. I…Dumbledore gave Harry the invisibility cloak for his first Christmas at Hogwarts. When he was refused permission to go to Hogsmeade in third year, he used it and the map that the Weasley twins ah…liberated from Filch's office. He used both to sneak into Hogsmeade and threw snowballs at Draco and his cronies outside the shrieking shack. They thought he was a ghost and were terrified. It was funny at the time.”

“It was not,” Draco grumbled as the others laughed. “It was fucking terrifying! Snowballs coming out of thin air! How about the time you spent weeks on end as an anthropomorphic cat, Princess?”

“What?” Lily gasped. 

Hermione rolled her eyes. “I brewed polyjuice potion in second year to see if we could find out who the Heir of Slytherin was. Harry thought it was Draco. He and Ron turned into his friends and infiltrated the common room. I unfortunately used a cat hair. It wasn't pretty. Severus thought it was fucking hilarious, the arse.”

“You brewed polyjuice potion….successfully, in second year?” Lily asked incredulously.

“Ah…yes?”

“Brightest witch of her age,” Draco quipped, tugging on a curl with a smile.

“Yes, thanks for that,” Hermione groused. “Stupid nickname. Shall I tell them exactly how I broke your nose?”

James snorted. “How about you explain how you went from that to a relationship?”

“Oh ah…it sort of just…happened. He approached me at the end of third year after you escaped and apologised. Profusely.”
“On his knees?” Sirius grinned.

“Oh his knees,” she agreed. 

“Like literally? I sort of assumed you were joking about that.”

“Oh no, I meant it literally. I didn't think he was at all serious, but I couldn't work out what the point of it all was. So I told him I wouldn't believe him until he begged for my forgiveness on his knees.”

All of them laughed, but Draco merely shrugged leaning down to kiss her. “Best decision I ever made, Princess.”

“What made you do it?” Lily asked her head tilted as she regarded them.

“She told you about the Hippogriff that hurt me after I insulted it?” They nodded. “Father was…out to prove a point, but I knew that allowing Buckbeak to die was wrong. I had…expectations, I suppose, in terms of how I was supposed to be treated and for the most part, people adhered to them. But Hermione, Hermione never believed me to be anything more than what I showed her. She didn’t give a fuck about my pedigree or my expectations. She sure as fuck didn’t believe for one second that I was better than her. And she was right.” He grinned down at her as she rolled her eyes. “My father was fond of physical punishment combined with an explanation. He liked me to understand why he was raising his wand but even when he was he was…detached, I suppose. When Hermione punched me over that bloody hippogriff, she was all avenging fire and rage. I had never seen anyone look at me and blatantly feel anything that strongly. And I decided that if she could hate me that much that I could convince her to love me instead. So I did.”

“Just like that,” Remus grinned.

Draco snorted. “If only. It took that apology, several others, a first edition of Hogwarts a History, convincing Severus to allow me to write to her, and quite a lot of begging. It was not fucking easy. Especially with that flying twat hovering around.”

Hermione snorted. “Flying twat?” Remus asked, confused. 

“Viktor Krum, the Durmstrang champion. He was also the Bulgarian National Team’s seeker. And not only did he rescue me from the Black lake, but he also took me to the Yule Ball. He was lovely.”

“He was not fucking lovely! He was fucking eighteen and you were fifteen. And might I remind you that you were mine!”

Hermione snorted. “Do you see me whinging about Pansy and her wandering hands? You were mine and she was practically wanking you off in the Great Hall.”

Draco flinched. “I did not need that image Princess.”

“You couldn't go together?” Lily asked.

“No. Lucius would have murdered us both. And despite what he thinks, Viktor was the perfect gentleman. Pansy on the other hand….”

“Yes well, she had her eye on being the next Lady Malfoy.” Draco responded with a slightly wry twist to his mouth.

“What a wonderful ambition,” Hermione laughed. 

“Oh, I don't know, Princess. I think Lady Hermione Malfoy sounds rather nice,” Draco crooned, watching her face closely.

“I think the current Lord Malfoy might have some issues with that,” she responded drily.

“Ah well, nothing new there then. Lucius does indeed have rather a lot of issues.”

“Right,” Sirius interrupted, seeming to come out of his previous stupor. “We need to get out of here. Kitten wanted a tattoo so….who’s coming?”

“You want a tattoo?” Draco asked, surprised, looking down at her with a frown.

“I...yes.”

“Of?”

“Ah, a snitch, a chess knight, a broomstick, mimbulus mimbletonia, and ah spectrespecs.”
Draco blinked, saying nothing for a moment before he dropped a kiss onto her head. “I see.”

“What…what in the name of Merlin are Spectrespecs?” Remus asked, breaking the awkwardness slightly. 

Draco laughed. “Apparently they help you see the wrackspurts.”

“What the bloody hell is a wrackspurt?”
Draco shrugged but grinned back at him. “I have no idea.”

“You….you know you’re not making sense, right?” Remus floundered, looking around the room in the hope someone else had an explanation.
“Yup,” Draco agreed with a nod.

“Right, tattoos!” Sirius commanded, clapping his hands to bring their focus back, ignoring Remus’ bewildered look.
“I’ll come,” Draco decided.

“I think I’ll just come and watch. I have no urge to let Valentina permanently mark me. She was sadistic enough at school,” Remus laughed, deciding that an explanation wasn’t coming any time soon.

“Valentina?” Hermione queried with a small frown.

“Yes, Valentina Mir. Vicious little Hufflepuff two years above us at school. Best magical tattooist in Britain,” Sirius grinned.

Hermione shrugged. “Fine.”

“I think I’ll watch with Remus,” Lily decided.

“I want one,” James said suddenly.

Lily blinked at him in surprise. “What?”

“I want one. I don't know what….”

“A lily?” Hermione suggested with a grin.

“How cliche!” Sirius exclaimed, his hand splayed over his heart in mock horror.

“A doe?”

“I could…” James looked thoughtful. 

“Wonderful! One doe for Prongsy, one random collection of odd items for Kitten, and I think I might get something added to mine.”

“I think I might get a dragon too,” Hermione mused. 

“Pardon?” Sirius looked momentarily startled.

“I think I might get a dragon too… Somewhere not with the rest. How badly is this going to hurt?”

Sirius shrugged. “Not too badly. They’re magical rather than muggle. It hurts a little, but not for long.”

“Hmmm. Dragon then.”
“I…you don't need to,” Draco stuttered, his eyes wide.
“I’m aware,” Hermione agreed, looking back at him, silently conveying that she wanted to.

“Wonderful! Lets break up whatever the fuck this is and go!” Sirius whined impatiently, already on his feet.

Hermione laughed, pulling Draco to stand. “I love you, you know Princess,” he murmured into her hair as he squeezed her tightly, not quite able to suppress the instinctive caveman reaction to the thought of her having him tattooed on her body, marking her so that everyone knew she was fucking off limits. Not that he’d ever tell her. He liked his balls attached to his body.
“Hmmm. I should bloody hope so,” she smiled.
Draco laughed. “Maybe I’ll get something. A book perhaps.”
“A book?” she asked unimpressed.

“Hmmm yes. Hogwarts a History…”
Laughing, she hit him. “Arse.”

“You love me.”
“Unfortunately.”
“Let's go!” Sirius whined again, reaching to drag them towards the floo.

The alley Sirius led them down was dark and disgusting.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” Lily asked hesitantly.

“Of course! Come on, it's just up here!” he called, almost bouncing with excitement as he herded them towards a nondescript little shop simply bearing the name “Valentina’s” in matt yellow script.

“This is it!” He pulled Remus through the door, trusting the others to follow. The shop smelled clinical, but the walls were an explosion of colour, covered in artwork. Not one area was unpainted. 

“Sirius! My favourite customer! What can I do for you?” a stunning dark haired girl beamed. She looked… exactly like you’d expect a tattoo artist to look, Hermione mused. Her skin was almost completely covered in beautiful ink–some stationary, some not. From what she could see, only her neck and face remained blank. 

“I brought some friends…including the one I spoke to you about earlier.”

“Isn't she meant to be coming tomorrow?”

“Ah, yes… Small change of plan?”

Valentina rolled her eyes. “You're lucky I like you. How many exactly?”

“Ah…Kitten, the one I spoke to you about, apparently she’d like to add a dragon somewhere too. And Prongs here would like…something. Moony, Draco, and Lily are just here for moral support. 

Draco shrugged. “Actually, I think I want something.”

“Good for you, Cousin!” Sirius clapped him on the back happily as Remus rolled his eyes. 

“And you?” Valentina arched a brow.

“Maybe just a teeny tiny addition?”

“Christ. Who’s first? I’d like to go home tonight.” She turned and hit Sirius’ chest. “Have you any idea how fucking late it is! Why can't you bring me multiple customers during the day!”
Sirius grinned back at her slightly sheepishly. “Kittens first. She's the entire reason we’re here,” he decided before anyone could say anything. 

“Right. Come over here. Let's see what you’re thinking. I assume your name is not actually Kitten?” 

Hermione laughed. “No. My name’s Hermione. Sirius just appears to struggle with given names.”

Valentina smiled, leading Hermione over to a small counter where a stack of pencils and paper sat in front of her. “So Hermione, describe what you want and I’ll draw. Close your eyes. It helps.” Doing as she was told, after checking that Draco was behind her guarding her back, Hermione began talking, wondering what magic this was as her mind cleared of anything other than what she wanted her tattoos to look like. “You can look now,” Valentina spoke with some amusement. “What do you think?”

It was exactly what she wanted. Tiny images that would look like they were drawn using pen and ink interspersed by connecting dots in a long line. The dragon in contrast was a bright, icy blue grey, its body curled protectively around a tiny book, dots that represented the stars that made up the Draco constellation dotted along its body in black, all of them contrasting starkly with the dragon's pale hide.

“I don't think I could have imagined that,” Hermione said softly, running her hand over the drawn snitch.”

Valentina smiled. “Right arm?” Hermione nodded. “And the dragon?”

“Ah, side maybe?”

Valentina hummed. “Right, let's start with the arm. Do you want movement?”

“Oh. Um…yes?”

“We can do that. The wings will beat, the broom will move and the fireworks can burst. Are you sure you don't want any colour? I can honestly say I’ve never done fireworks in shades of black and grey before.” Hermione shook her head, making Valentina shrug. “Ok then, if you're sure you’re ready?”

At her nod, Valentina lifted her wand, tracing it over her skin. It didn't hurt exactly, but it wasn't comfortable. The urge to squirm away from the slightly niggly annoyance was strong, even if it only lasted ten minutes. “Done,” Valentina announced with a grin.

“Already?” 

“Yup. Want to see?”

Hermione's eyes smarted as she looked at the line of seemingly random objects running down the inside of her forearm. “Oh,” she whispered, running a finger over the snitch as it fluttered its wings at her. Valentina smiled softly.

“Sirius said that… well he said these were a memorial of sorts. Take your time and then we can start on that dragon.”

Hermione swallowed hard, ignoring the concerned look Draco was shooting her from across the room. “Thanks,” she said softly, her eyes still on the fluttering snitch. “Let's get it done before one of them comes over and starts fussing.”

Smiling gently, Valentina gestured for her to lift her shirt, her eyes going slightly wide as she took in the scars that littered the girl's torso alongside her overly prominent ribs. She forced herself not to react. It was not her job and based on how close to tears the girl looked, it was better not to know. “Right, where do you want it?”

“Here I think.” Hermione gestured towards her ribs. “It’ll move wont it?”

“It can. It's up to you how animated you want it. I can make it so it circles your torso or remains in one place.”

“Oh. Give it as much movement as you like. I sort of like the idea of it not staying in one place.”

Lifting her wand again Valentina began casting, the dragon coming to life on Hermione's skin. She almost laughed when she ran her fingers over the finished artwork and the tiny dragon seemed to rub its head against her fingers like a cat before scampering off around her back, reappearing to hug its book.

“Thank you. I love them.” 

“Any time,” Valentina smiled, looking down at the girl who was now stroking the preening dragon. “Now, let's get through the rest of your lot. Sirius never does anything by halves does he?”

Hermione laughed, allowing her top to fall back down. “No. I don't think he knows how.”

More than two hours later they stood outside the shop and headed for home, James with a stag, doe, wolf, and grim frolicking over his back, surrounded by a prowling lioness and a spectral dragon. Sirius had added the same lioness and dragon to his chest, deliberately obscuring the rat. And Draco had a miniature book with a single narcissus flower next to a crown drawn on its cover. As the pages of the book turned, the flower and crown alternated, paying homage to the two most important people in his life. 

“I think I like this,” he murmured into the silence as Hermione used his chest as a pillow, his hand stroking the dragon as it alternated rubbing its head against his fingers and flicking its tail towards him.

“Hmmm I think he's my favourite too,” she murmured.

Chapter Text

It took Dorea almost a week to calm down enough to be able to allow Albus back in the house. During that week, Poppy got back to them with her contact from the DOM, an Unspeakable by the name of Isobelle McMillan. Neither Draco nor Hermione were looking forward to this appointment. While they were both clearly healthier, steady access to food combined with nutrition potions meaning they were less emaciated, they were still a long way off from well.

“It's lovely tae meet ye baith!” A short blonde woman with a demeanour that could only be described as bouncy greeted them, striding out of the floo with Madam Pomphrey and into the dining room. “I’m Healer McMillan, and I gaither frae Poppy you’ve hid a few issues.” Hermione couldn't have held in the snort if she tried. The Healer looked back faintly amused. “Aye, well I imagine that's summit o’ an understatement given the look o’ ye.”

“You could say that,” Draco murmured. 

“Well, I’ll be hae’n a look if it’s awright wi ye? It’s no that I dinna trust Poppy, but I like tae be sure.”

“Of course. What exactly is it you’re checking?”

“Perhaps we could discuss it ben ‘er?”

“Pardon?” Draco asked, his face scrunched as he tried to make sense of the instruction.

The woman snorted. “I apologise,” she said with exaggerated enunciation. “My accent slips when I’m….not concentrating on it. Would you be so kind as to relocate next door so we may have some privacy?” 

Hermione huffed out a laugh and decided then and there she liked this strange little Scottish woman. “Of course, Healer McMillan,” she replied with the same exaggeration. The Healer grinned back at her as she followed her from the room. Poppy rolled her eyes behind her Master’s back. 

“Now, I’ll be castin’ the same diagnostic as Poppy if that's a’right wi ye and then we’ll tak it frae there?” Draco nodded sharply, not entirely sure what to do with this geriatric witch who had all the exuberance of a toddler. “Wonderful, if ye dinna mind setting yoursel’ doon here, lass, we’ll begin wi’ you.”

Hermione nodded, automatically tensing when the Healer raised her wand. She could sense Draco hovering behind her but didn't dare move. The Healer’s face went through a myriad of emotions as she read the diagnostics in front of her. “Well, you’ll be pleased tae ken that the malnutrition is better than it wiz. You’re no gettin’ enough sleep though, are ye lass?”

Hermione shook her head. “No,” she sighed. “The nerve potions combined with nightmares….” she trailed off. 

“Aye, I canna quite imagine what you’ve seen that you shouldna hae hid tae. Has onyone suggestit a Mind Healer? We’ve a newly qualified yin whae’s making a gid name for hersel’ if yer interestit.”
“I…I probably should,” Hermione admitted quietly. “But…It's not that easy.”

“Because o’ the confidentiality issue?” the Healer asked shrewdly. Hermione nodded. “Well this yins perfect then. She’s bound by oor contracts becis we like tae keep yin oan staff. Sometimes experiments go wrong, ye ken?”
“Oh,” Hermione replied softly. 

“I’ll set ye summit up. Her name’s Andromeda. Andromeda Tonks.” Hermione blinked back at her, stunned. “Oh, ye ken her already? Dinna bother denyin’ it lass. I can tell by the look oan yer face.” 

“I used to,” Hermione whispered. 

The Healer’s face softened. “She’s a gid yin, Healer Tonks. I’m sure you’ll be reacquaintit soon enough. Now, sit yersel doon young man. Let's be seeing ye.”
Draco moved to sit near Hermione, still not sure what to make of this woman. 

“Aye, same story. Although ye’ll be needin’ that extra couple o’ weeks with nerve potions that the lass doesna. It’s healin’ well but it’s no there yit. Did they add in that fourth potion Poppy recommendit?”

“Yes,” he muttered. 

“Good. Now, this is a lot easier if ye’d consent to be lying doon ye ken?”

Hermione looked at Draco who was watching the Healer warily. “I want to know what you plan on doing,” he stated firmly.
“Today? I thought we’d see aboot daein summit about that reproductive damage. If that all goes well, we’ll look at the heart nixt week when yer less fragile.”

He nodded slowly, not taking his eyes off the witch before moving to stand behind the sofa, taking one of Hermione's hands in his. His wand held steady and trained on the Healer.

“It's likely tae hurt Mr. Malfoy,” she said softly. “Ye canna be firin’ off curses at me if she screams ye ken? Poppy will have a diagnostic up. She can explain if ye need her tae. Now lower yer wand before I git someone else tae come in here tae sit wi’ Miss Potter.”

Draco flinched, looking torn. He turned to Madam Pomphrey. “You’ll explain?”

“Of course, Mr. Malfoy,” she soothed, waving her wand and showing him the chart. “This shows Miss Potter's organs as they stand. You can see how some of it looks thicker in parts. That's the scar tissue. Healer McMillan is attempting to remove some of it and regenerate the tissue.”

“What's that?”

“That's where the fallopian tube was severed. I imagine from that curse on Miss Potter's abdomen. Healer McMillan will be attempting to reattach it.”

“How badly is it going to hurt?”

The Healer looked sympathetic. “Probably raither a lot Miss Potter, and we canna gie ye a pain potion until efterwards. It can skew the results. We can numb the area slightly, bit I’m afraid it’ll only just tak the edge off. Dae ye still want tae dae this?”

Taking a deep breath Hermione nodded, watching as both Madam Pomphrey and the Healer cast numbing charms. 

The pain was indescribable and all Hermione really wanted to do was claw out her own insides so it would stop. The only saving grace was that it had nothing on Bella’s crucio and she had survived that. Still, she knew she had to be hurting Draco given how tightly she was gripping his hand, but it was all she could do to focus on not screaming and terrifying the rest of the house. It stopped as abruptly as it started, although she had no idea how long it had been. 

“All done now, lass,” the healer's voice said softly. “I…I canna promise ye anythin’ but I managed tae reattach the tube and remove a fair bit o the scarin’. I’ll need tae check ye in a month or so tae see how it's holdin’ up an’ if theres onythin’ that’s hidin’ behint the ither damange. We’ll hae a better idea then. In the meantime, take it easy, aye? Nothing strenuous, plenty o’ rest, and try an fatten yersel up a wee bit.”

“Thank you,” Hermione whispered, struggling to sit up. 

The Healer nodded. “Yer more’an welcome. Now then, set yer arse doon Mr. Malfoy. I believe yer up next. Jist bide where ye are Miss Potter. He can use yer legs as a pillow but I dinna want ye on yer feet jist yit.”

Hermione nodded, watching as Draco gingerly settled himself with his head on her lap, relaxing fractionally as she carded her fingers through his hair. 

“Same as your lass, laddie. It’ll likely hurt an we canna do nought but numb ye a wee bit jist now.”

He nodded, his face a blank mask. 

Like Hermione, he immediately tensed when the pain hit, clenching his hands into fists at his sides, but he didn't make a sound. He let out a gasp once the pain stopped, almost melting into the sofa.

“Merlin that fucking hurt!”

“Aye, I imagine it did, lad. But yer done noo. Same instructions as yer lass. Tak it easy, aye? Stay aff yer feet fur today and dinna be goin far for aboot the nixt week or so. I’ll be back tae check ye both nixt week. If yer well enough, I’ll consider lookin ower yer hearts.”

“Thank you Healer McMillan,” Hermione said softly, feeling the exhaustion hit her all at once.

“Yer welcome lass. Perhaps consider some dreamless sleep every other night for the nixt week? The neve potions should definitely be startin’ tae calm doon.”

“We’ll give it a go.” 

“Wonderful. We’ll see you next week then. I’ll pass on Healer McMIllan’s instructions to Dorea on our way out,” Poppy said pointedly. 

Hermione rolled her eyes but said nothing, giving in to the tiredness as the woman left the room.

Three days after the Healers visit, Dorea decided that Hermione and Draco could attend the Order meeting, if only because she thought she had no chance of confining them to a bed for another week like she wanted to.

Albus looked apprehensive on arriving, but she had decided the only way to handle him was to ignore him, a tactic many of the other Order members seemed to be employing as well. Augusta Longbottom, however, was particularly blatant in her disdain.

“Augusta began training us–Harry, Ron, Neville, and I in the summer between fifth and sixth year. Luna and Ginny dropped in whenever Mrs. Weasley would allow it. Remus helped, but he was often away. Tonks helped too, but her heart wasn’t in it for reasons that aren't important,” Hermione began, her eyes landing on the formidable Longbottom Matriarch. “You…you saved my life. You are the reason Harry and Ron lived as long as they did. You are absolutely the reason Neville and Ginny were able to protect the younger years from the Carrows when they went back to school. I…I cannot even begin to explain how much we owe you.”

“You owe me nothing,” Augusta replied, her usually stern mask slipping to reveal suspiciously glassy eyes.

“But we do. You and your lessons are the only reason we made it here. Before…before we were fighting like children. Against everyone's advice, you taught us how to actually duel and Gods we needed it. You were also the reason we kept improving. I wrote to you weekly during sixth year. You gave pointers. You stepped up training during the holidays and you…you didn't pretend the war wasn't happening to us like everyone else. We were kept out of Order meetings despite always being in the middle of things because of Harry, and you seemed to be the only one who really registered how dangerous that was, so you helped us.”

Augusta nodded sharply, but she looked devastated. “I should not have had to.”

“No,” Hermione acknowledged. “But it didn't change the fact that reality meant we needed to be prepared.”

“Sixth year was…not fun,” Draco voiced softly, his eyes darting to Hermione who squeezed his hand and took up the narrative when he opened his mouth to speak again and nothing came out. 

“For me, beyond worrying about Draco and Severus, sixth year was actually relatively stable, compared to other years anyway. For Draco….Lucius Malfoy was caught at the Ministry the previous year. As punishment for his failures, Draco was forcibly marked and tasked with something by Voldemort. He was not expected to succeed. Dumbledore knew. We went to him and asked for help and he….he refused.”

The atmosphere in the room turned frigid immediately. “Are you sure, Hermione?” Minerva asked gently.

“Yes.'' Hermione swallowed hard, wrapping her free arm around her abdomen. It struck Minerva viscerally just how young she was. “Dumbledore found one of the horcruxes, a ring. He put it on but it was cursed. They…they prey on your biggest fears, show you things you only see in your nightmares, and have a way of getting under your skin. I believe this one promised him he could see his sister again, while simultaneously telling him he was responsible for her death. So he was dying. Severus had managed to contain the curse to his hand, but he predicted he had a year at most.”

Severus looked startled as Hermione smiled gently at him. “You…you came up with a plan, or more accurately Dumbledore demanded you follow through with his plan. Draco had been tasked with murdering him.” Ignoring the gasps in the room she continued. “Narcissa approached Severus and made an unbreakable vow to ensure he would help Draco and finish things if Draco couldn’t. She knew it was meant to be a death sentence, so protected him in the only way she could. Dumbledore decided that regardless, Severus would be the one to kill him, that it would cement his place in Voldemort's ranks. But beyond that, he wasn't willing to help us. He thought Draco needed to remain where he was despite knowing about our relationship and Draco’s reluctance. It was…Fuck,” she cursed, swiping a hand down her face to remove the tears. “I really thought he was going to die that year. He was…ill and shutting me out because he thought it was the only way to protect me and…you…you did nothing! Again! He was fucking sixteen and you let him…” she trailed off, her hand pressed over her mouth as if it could stop the sobs that were threatening. She felt Draco pull her into him, his arms wrapping around her, enclosing her in the only place she truly felt safe. 

The entire room sat in silence, their faces pale as they processed yet another blow to their confidence in the supposed leader of the light. Dumbledore watched them warily, wondering what exactly it would take to win them back over. He wasn’t stupid. He knew he was losing their trust thanks to that bloody girl and her overly emotional displays. Couldn't she see the logic in not removing the heir of one of the most prominent wizarding families? The boy would have been a liability, for one. Oh, he might seem like he loved her now, but he was the Heir to the Malfoy line. Muggleborns were all well and good as mistresses, but not as wives. He knew how this worked. He was just surprised everyone else was taken in by him. Only the fact that he had signed the parchment and seemed to be open to giving them information for just now stilled his hand. The boy would go back to what he knew. He was sure of it. 

“What happened next, lass?” Moody’s shaken voice interrupted the silence. 

“I…we fixed the vanishing cabinet in the room of requirement and the Death Eaters stormed the school. Thankfully, Order members were patrolling the halls so we had backup when we were fighting. Dumbledore had taken Harry to retrieve a horcrux. He’d spent the year telling him things about Voldemort’s life. I’m still not sure what the point was. The things he told him could have been condensed into a bloody week and he could have spent time fucking training him instead or you know….helping him find the fucking horcruxes before he died.” Hermione shook her head violently, attempting to get herself back under control. “They went to a cave where Voldemort had hidden his horcrux. In order to remove it from the protections placed on it, he had to drink the Draught of Despair, which left him weakened. Once they were back, Dumbledore immobilised Harry underneath his invisibility cloak. Severus killed Dumbledore and Severus, Draco, and the Death Eaters left the school,” Hermione continued faintly, refusing to let go of Draco. 

“And who knew about the plan?”

“Me,” Hermione whispered. “Just me. And only because he had no other choice.”

“None of the Order?” Moody pressed.

Hermione shook her head, trying to ignore Severus’ devastated face. She'd seen that look in the aftermath, as it dawned on him that he really had just killed Albus Dumbledore and no one knew why. “None. They…they all thought he was a traitor. He..the things they said about him and Draco.

And….Harry…Harry was so, so fucking angry. And he’d been given that bastarding mission and told not to tell anyone but Ron and I so we’d all agreed to not go back to school. Draco and Severus were still trying to pass on information and it was just so fucking hard to get anyone to listen when they all questioned how I knew. I…Gods I’ve spent hours wondering how many we could have saved if only he’d let people in on the plan. Because that information was valuable and no one wanted to listen to it because they thought they were traitors.”
The entire Order sat in silence for several moments. Many faces around the room showed blatant disbelief. Severus looked blank, a stark contrast to the rapidly building fury on Minerva’s face.

“How could you?” she whispered, turning to face Albus properly. “How in the name of Godric could you justify that?”

“I do not know. However, I imagine that there were concerns about too many people knowing the plan.”

“But no one knew you manipulative old bastard!” Hermione screeched. “And people died!”
“And how many more would have died if Severus had been outed as a spy, Miss Potter?”

“I don’t fucking know, but I do know if people had fucking trusted them then many wouldn’t have!”

“And you would have had no information without him.”
“We had no fucking information with him! No one would fucking listen! I had to sit through three separate lectures from Tonks, Remus, and Bill fucking Weasely about how I needed to let go now because Draco had shown his true colours! And it didn’t matter what I fucking said. There was an actual fucking meeting where the entire Order discussed me seeing a bloody Mind Healer because apparently I was fucking delusional! They were seriously worried! They had me checked for potions and curses. They were discussing whether or not they could trust me because I was clearly still in touch with at least one Death Eater. It was only that I hadn't yet put Harry in direct danger that stilled their hands. But they barely took their eyes off of me and they definitely went to ridiculous lengths to keep me separated from Harry once we were in the same goddamned house.”

“You never told me that,” Draco interrupted her rant.

Hermione shrugged awkwardly. “They…they brought in your Aunt Andy and she convinced them I was sane and not a danger to the Order.”

“They seriously made you see a Mind Healer?”

“Yes. Yes they did. It was…well it wasn’t fun and she took some fucking convincing, but I got there in the end. She sent Severus something in code, pretending to be me. The response was enough to put her at ease. We still couldn't convince enough people it wasn't an elaborate trap, though Remus tried for a while. He trusted Andy if nothing else.”

“Didn't someone notice that the information you had correlated with things happening?” Madam Bones asked. 

“I…I don't know. You have to understand we were only at the Burrow for two months before we went on the run. After Dumbledore's death it was chaos, I suppose. Harry's trace broke that summer too. The mission to remove him from his Aunt and Uncle’s house cost George an ear and Moody his life. There had been no clear next steps discussed, despite Dumbledore having planned his death for a year. Everyone was…scrambling to get things together. Severus was made Headmaster. Voldemort took the Ministry. Death Eaters were replacing teachers and using horrific methods of discipline that Severus almost killed himself trying to mitigate with no fucking help. Because for all Minerva, Filius, Pomona, and many others were still there, none of them fucking trusted him. He said Remus had managed to almost convince Minerva that I was telling the truth about his actions, but the moment the Carrows took over discipline everyone fell back into believing he really was a traitor. By that point Harry, Ron, and I had already gone.”

There were several beats of shocked silence. Many of the Order appeared to be working themselves up to explosions.

Before any of them could voice their thoughts, a short man with blonde hair appeared in the room, greeting them cheerfully. “Hello all. What have I missed?”

The effect was instantaneous. Hermione and Draco moved fluidly, one stunning and the other binding. Sirius, James, and Remus jumped off their seats, all of them stalking towards the stunned form of their friend.

“Check his arm…just in case…just in case we've got the timeline wrong,” Hermione pleaded.

“I’ll do it,” James growled. “Loosen your ropes.”

Obligingly, Draco vanished the ropes, summoning Peter's wand instead. James took a deep breath in. His eyes closed momentarily as if praying before he slowly pushed the sleeve of Peter's shirt up. There on his pale skin, the Dark mark lept out at them. Minerva barely suppressed her sob as the three remaining Marauders let out a simultaneous howl of rage. 

Hermione stood, stalking towards him before anyone could stop her, her wand pointing at Peter's head.

“That was for Harry,” she said as she stared down at the face of the man who had contributed to ruining her brother's life. It wasn't enough. It was nowhere near enough, but she admitted to herself that she was terrified that if she did anything else she wouldn't be able to stop.

“What did you just do?” Dorcas whispered, her eyes wide.

“I….I cast a charm we found once in the Black library. The dementors will affect him more than most. He’ll be tortured by all the shitty decisions he made and forced into feeling undending remorse for them. I added in Harry's memory of his death for good measure.” Her eyes turned back towards Peter. “I hope he never knows a moment's peace. I hope it drives him fucking mad. I’d really like to fucking murder him….slowly, but this will have to do.”

“I think…I think I’ll take him in now,” Amelia said faintly 

“He’s a rat animagus,” Hermione reminded the witch. “He’ll need specific wards.”

Amelia nodded, levitating Peter through the floo with a look of disgust. 

“Still think everyone is here because they believe in the cause?” Marlene McKinnon spat at Albus, her face twisted into a look of disgusted horror.

“I could not have known…” he began faintly.

“Which is why there should have been security measures in place!” Gideon roared. 

“Perhaps I was…too trusting,” Albus allowed. 

Everyone looked at him in disbelief. “It's not good enough,” a pale-faced Lily said softly. “This…this is our lives and…I can't help but wonder if you care.” 

“Of course I care, Miss Evans!”
“Do you?” Sirius asked, his face a blank mask that made Hermione want to recoil. It was not a look she associated with Sirius, not since she’d first seen him anyway. 

“Mr. Black! Of course I do,” he repeated emphatically.

“Then why did it take a teenage witch to enforce safety precautions?” the man Hermione now knew was Edgar Bones asked wearily. 

“As I said, perhaps I was too trusting.”

“No,” Minerva said. “No, you do not get to use that as an excuse. You are not young and naive, Albus! You sit at the head of that table and make decisions that could and do affect people's lives! And you just….you just don't! I won't allow you to unilaterally make decisions any more. You have just proven that, like everyone else, you are not infallible. Perhaps we needed a reminder; perhaps you did. I do not know. But it's here and I will not ignore it. Missions, decisions, planned action–it will all be discussed. You will listen when Hermione and Draco speak. They clearly know more about this war than you.”

“Hear hear,” Moody murmured softly with similar mumblings around the table. 

Albus wondered when it had all gone so wrong. Directly opposite him, three shell shocked teenage boys were wondering the same thing. 

Chapter Text

“Pads?” Hermione whispered as she walked into the living room in the middle of the night. Sleep had remained elusive, and for once Draco was peaceful. She didn't want to disturb him. The familiar black dog looked at her and whined. “Oh Snuffles,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Do you want to hear a story?”

The dog thunked its head onto her lap and looked at her expectantly. Hermione huffed out a laugh, stroking a hand repeatedly over his head. 

“Once upon a time, there was a brilliant boy, whose star was the brightest in the sky. One day, the boy made a terrible decision when he was drowning in grief and he was taken away, locked up inside an unforgiving prison in the middle of the sea. But the boy did not break. Even though the years were long and the conditions were ruthless, he remained strong, listening for any news of his Pup, anything that meant he knew he was safe. And sometimes, when it all got too much, the boy became a dog, allowing it to soothe his mind.  

Several years later, a man came to visit and he left the boy, who was no longer a boy, his newspaper. The newspaper showed the evil rat on the shoulder of his Pup’s best friend. It was then that the man knew his Pup wasn't safe and he needed to get to Hogwarts. And so he did. He changed into a dog and slipped through the bars, snuck past the guards, and threw himself at the mercy of the sea. The sea, while cold and harsh, was no match for the man's determination to keep his Pup safe, and so he swam, making it to land before walking the length of the country, catching glimpses of his Pup as he went. 

One day, he got lucky and he managed to catch the boy and the evil rat, but his Pup…his Pup was forgiving and begged him not to kill the rat and instead to hand him over to be punished. And so he did. But the rat escaped, forgetting he owed the Pup a life debt. The man was angry, but he had his Pup and Gods, did that boy love him more than anyone else in the world.” Hermione bit her lip in an attempt to stem the tears. “The man became the boy’s home, his family and…he adored him.”

“And the rat?” Remus whispered from the shadows, making Hermione jump.

“The rat paid for his life debt with his life,” she answered quietly, her voice hard as she shifted to allow Remus to sit next to her, all three of them finally falling into an exhausted sleep, piled on the sofa.

The Order was subdued when they met the following night. None of them were sure they were ready for whatever was coming next. The residents of Potter Manor were particularly jumpy. Their faith in their world was rocked down to its foundations. None of them had been able to process any of the past few weeks. 

“Peter Pettigrew will be put on trial in a month,” Amelia spoke into the uncomfortable silence. “He….we extracted some memories. I’m so sorry, but none of it looks good.”

“So Azkaban?” Sirius asked quietly. 

“I don't know. There is talk of the Kiss,” Amelia admitted. “Animagi are hard to hold, even in somewhere as formidable as Azkaban, especially one as small as he is. All it takes is one small slip up and he’d escape. It doesn't help that Dementors are not humans. They do not think as we do and they do not see what we see. They…feel emotions, I suppose, rather than being able to actually see a person. That makes them vulnerable in a sense.”

“Fuck,” James swore.

Amelia smiled sadly at him. “It’s not ideal.”

“No,” he whispered, unsure how to feel about his friend being Kissed, even knowing what he knew now. Peter would have killed him, had killed him in the timeline Hermione and Draco came from, but he was struggling to combine Peter the Death Eater with Peter the boy who had been one of his best friends since first year. When had it gone so wrong? What had tipped him over the edge? They loved him. He was a Marauder and if he had been asked a month ago, he’d have sworn on his magic that none of them would ever betray the others. But now? He wasn’t sure about anything. 

“I…I think this year we’re just going to stick to the basics,” Hermione said faintly into the silence. Her face was sickly pale and she was pressed so tightly against Draco’s side that it was like she was trying to burrow under his skin. He didn't look much better. Although none of them would admit it, that scared them more than anything else. Draco had managed to mostly maintain a reasonable facade during the retelling of their lives. To see him look so fearful was unnerving.

“I think….” Dorea began, “I think that if you feel up to it then perhaps we need a little more than that. You know what they’re capable of and perhaps some of us need that reminder.”

Hermione swallowed visibly and bit her lip. “I’ll try,” she said finally. “As…as I said, we were staying with the Order for the summer. Molly was planning Bill's wedding and I had been packing for weeks. The wedding was ambushed by Death Eaters. Harry, Ron, and I got away, but not everyone was so lucky. We went to Grimmauld Place first. We had no idea what we were really looking for beyond Slytherin's locket. The one Harry and Dumbledore had removed from the cave before Dumbledore's death was a fake. Inside it was a note signed by an R.A.B. It took us a few days to realise what those initials stood for.”

“Regulus?” Sirius questioned quietly. 

“Yes. Voldemort had asked for Kreacher and seeing the state Kreacher returned in was enough for Regulus to have an epiphany of sorts, or so Kreacher said. He demanded Kreacher take him back and destroy the locket.” She paused, her face clearly unsure. 

“How did he die, Kitten?”

Hermione flinched. “Inferi,” she whispered, tears already beginning to fall at the broken look on Sirius’ face. “It won't happen this time. We won't let it!”

“How?” he asked harshly. 

“We know when he dies. If we can't get to him before Kreacher is called, we’ll…intercept.”

“So you can die instead?” he snarled, his face twisted.

“If we need to,” she replied quietly.

“No! Fucking no!” Everyone jumped as Sirius slammed his hands down on the top of the table.

“We both came back knowing we were unlikely to survive the next conflict, Sirius,” she said softly. “If that’s what needs to happen, we’ve….we’ve made some sort of peace with it, I suppose. The plan is that we’ll have all the others dealt with before then. Whoever’s left can take out Voldemort.”

The flash of pain that crossed Draco’s face indicated that he hadn’t quite accepted it as well as she said. The entire Order was still, watching her in horror. 

“You cannot be serious?” Morag McKinnon voiced faintly.

“About which bit?” Hermione asked politely as if they weren’t discussing her death. 

“You…you cannot want to die!”

“I don’t…want wouldn't be the word I’d use,” she admitted slowly. “But…I’ve been asked to compromise my personal safety for the sake of the Wizarding world every year since I was twelve. I have thought I was going to die or have come close to dying more times than I really want to count. After…after everything turned properly to shit and we were no longer fighting but desperately just trying to survive, I think…I think I realised that there was very little chance of actually being allowed to live. I’m…tired. So, so fucking tired. This needs to end and if I have to die to make that happen….well…I like to think that everyone I love is waiting for me. I miss them. Maybe it won't be so bad.”

The Order slowly processed her words, many of them wondering how they had managed to fail so horribly that an eighteen-year-old witch had just admitted that she was willing to die to end this War. Charlus felt like his heart had been ripped from his chest. This girl, his girl, was willing, ready, to give up her life again for their safety. He had never wanted to murder anyone more than he currently wanted to murder Albus. He had set this in motion and he wasn't sure he was ever going to be able to forgive him. As he scanned the room, his eyes landed briefly on Draco. He looked nowhere near as accepting as Hermione. In fact, if he was honest, the boy looked ready to break down. His arm was wrapped around Hermione so tightly it had to be painful and his mask had all but disintegrated. If he had ever wondered if the boy truly loved his granddaughter, he knew for sure now. 

“You can't die, Princess,” he heard him whisper. “I know what we said but you can't.” It was as close to begging as Charlus had ever heard from him. 

“We might not have a choice,” Hermione responded softly. “You…you have to keep your head. If I die getting the locket, you can't do anything stupid. You have to finish this. Promise me.”

Draco was shaking his head frantically. “Please don't make me,” he whispered.

Tears began falling down Hermione's cheeks. “I…fuck. I can't live through that again. It needs to end.”

“What was the point in living through it if you die! I can't do this without you! I won't!” Draco shouted suddenly, his control shattering, unable to genuinely contemplate her death.

“Maybe the point was so that everyone else gets to live,” she said softly, her face completely blank. “And you can. You, Draco Malfoy, have a long, happy life ahead of you. We just need to get through this last bit.”

“Not without you,” he insisted.

“Oh, Draco. I really want to believe it’s possible, but we need to face the fact that you might not have a choice.” 

“No!” he growled, shoving back from the table and storming from the room. To everyone’s surprise, it was Severus who got to a sobbing Hermione first, pulling her onto his lap and squeezing her tightly. None of them could hear what he was saying. 

Charlus rose quietly, leaving the room in search of Draco, hoping he wasn't going to do anything stupid. He found him in the library, sobs wracking their way through his thin form as he huddled in on himself.

“Perhaps it’s time to insist on that talk now,” he said gently, sitting down next to him.

“How can she…how can she just accept that she’s likely to die?” he asked once he had calmed himself down enough to speak. “It's…it's like she doesn't care, like she sees it as an irritating detail….like she's planning on fucking leaving me alone. I…I can't. I have no fucking idea how to do this without her. Everyone else is dead. She’s all I’ve got left and she's… she's fucking planning to die! She can't fucking leave me!”

“I don't think she would if she felt like she had a choice,” Charlus replied gently, wondering who he was trying to convince.

“She does have a choice though!”

“She doesn't think so,” he commented mildly.

“I know,” Draco whispered. “I know but….I can't breathe every time she brings it up. She is… she's everything and I can’t just watch her allow herself to die. We…what is the fucking point in fighting any of it if she's dead?” The look Draco gave him as he finally lifted his head to look at him would stay with him for the rest of his life. If he thought the boy had looked broken before, it was nothing compared to the complete devastation on his face now. “We used to talk, you know, about life after the war?” He gave a broken sob-like laugh as his head thunked back against the wall. “Salazar, we were so fucking naive. We used to believe that it would one day be over, that life wouldn't fucking look like this. We never, not once, considered that Harry wouldn’t win, that things would end the way they did. We…we talked about how we would manage. She’d tease me about how I’d have to lower my standards drastically because even at our most idealistic, we both knew my father would never accept us. I was…prepared…ready to be disowned. I had her. It was fine. We used to talk about children and jobs and marriage and…..and now she's fucking planning to die. I…want…I need that future we spoke about. Haven't we done enough? Don't we deserve it? How much fucking more does this world want from us? It’s taken everyone else. It can't have her too.”

Charlus swallowed harshly, his chest constricting at the desolate sound of the boy's voice. “You’ve done more than enough,” he said honestly, not trusting himself to say anything else.

“Hush now little Pygmy puff,” Severus crooned in her ear as he rocked her, blocking out the stunned faces of the Order and focusing on the deceptively tiny woman in his arms. Draco had been right. The remnants of the bond created when his future self had sworn an oath as his Godfather were there, magic only knew why, and through him, something was linking him to this terrifying little witch who had saved his life and managed the impossible by getting Lily to speak to him again. He owed her more than he felt comfortable with, not that she had mentioned it, which was both terrifying and refreshing because Severus got the impression that she very much did not do things because she was getting something in return, which was an entirely new experience. He’d been getting to know her over the last week, popping in to see her and Draco daily, and while it wasn't like him to trust someone blindly, the pull on his magic wasn’t something he was willing to ignore. And now, now she was apparently planning to die so that the rest of them could have peace. It was unfathomable, and if he had his way she’d be doing nothing of the fucking sort, so he rocked her, this tiny witch that felt like family, and he tried to come up with an alternative plan. 

“I think he hates me, Severus.” As close as she was, he still had to strain to hear her.

“That’s nonsense and you know it, little puff. Draco loves you. That's why he's so upset.”

“I don't actually want to die, you know,” she whispered.

“I should bloody well hope not,” he muttered. 

“I just….there's a high chance one of us will if we can't get Regulus in time or we’re not quick enough when we’re in that cave, and I can't watch someone else I love die. I barely survived the last round of deaths. And… it would be so much worse if he died. I need him to be happy and safe and alive.”

“You don't think he feels the same way?” Severus queried softly.

Hermione burrowed closer, breathing in the soothing scents of potions and Severus that apparently the man had always had. If she closed her eyes she could almost make herself believe that he was her Severus–the man who, despite his sarcasm, always gave the best advice and who had done more to keep them safe than almost any other adult in their lives. 

“I don't know what else to do, Severus,” she murmured softly. “We may need to make that decision and I can't argue with him while we’re there.”

Severus hummed, still rocking her. “And if neither of you went?”

“We can't let someone else die!”

“Why does it have to be you, little Puff. Haven't you done enough?” he asked gently.

“They all look so…whole…so alive,” she whispered. “They weren't really real, most of them, in my time and now they are. And…I’m not sure I am whole. I think the war took pieces of me I’ll never get back.” She turned her head slightly, keeping it anchored on his chest, as she stared down at her forearm, stroking her finger down the line of the last remnants of her friends.

One of Severus' hands moved to still hers. “You can get better,” he said softly. “You can learn to live. You can have a life that's not fighting and war and death. You’ll never forget them, little Puff, but in order to honour them and what they sacrificed, you have to live. Who do they represent?”

She stilled in his arms, wondering if he was right. “Harry,” she began softly, stroking a finger over the snitch, not noticing the avid attention the Order was paying to her words now that they could hear them. “Youngest seeker in a Century, he was…so, so fucking brave. He took everything that was thrown at him and he ran with it when many would have crumbled under the pressure. He was my best friend, my baby brother and….I miss him, so fucking much.”

Severus hummed, still rocking her like a child. “The chess piece?”

“Ron. He was….hot-headed and a bit of an arse at times, but he was our arse. He was so fucking good at strategy and coordinating attacks. During our first year he was the chess knight when we played McGonagall's giant game. He was the…playfulness Harry needed. It balanced out my studiousness. We were…linked irrevocably, the only two people who truly understood what it took to keep Harry functioning at points. He sacrificed himself so we could move on during that chess match and he did it again during that last year. He stepped in front of a curse meant for me and told me to run. I don't think I’ll ever forgive myself for leaving him there.”

Gingerly, not entirely sure he knew what he was doing, Severus produced a handkerchief from his robes and wiped the tears that had begun falling down her face again. Comfort was not his strong suit.

“From what you’ve said, I very much doubt you had a choice,” he murmured. “Who is the broom for?”

“Ginny. She was….Quidditch mad, and determined, and fiery. No one messed with Gin. She was fucking terrifying when she got going. She was so full of life and had so many plans. She adored Harry. They were supposed to get through the war and pop out hundreds of tiny messy haired babies for Harry to look after while she played professional Quidditch. I almost got fire for her, but when I close my eyes I can see her, hair flying as she zooms about on a broomstick doing tricks to give me a heart attack looking so…free.”

“For someone so bloody terrifying, I can’t believe that broom tricks is what it takes to unnerve you,” he huffed, inwardly relieved when she gave a small smile. “What about the fireworks?”

“Fred and George. They…I didn't always understand them and they drove me fucking insane with their attitude to school. They were so immensely clever though. Their inventions were amazing, but their fireworks were the best. They left school without sitting their NEWTS but sent a firework dragon at Umbridge and left a portable swamp she couldn't get rid of. They were fiercely loyal and looked out for me more than once when one of the boys was being an arse. I used to consult for them on some of their products before we were forced to go on the run. They made me take myself less seriously and have some fun.”

Severus hummed, watching her run a finger over the exploding fireworks. “What about the plant? I don't think I recognise it.”

“Mimbulus mimbletonia,” she murmured. “It’s for Neville. He was…underestimated his entire life. He was brilliant at herbology, like genius level brilliant, and my first ever friend. He was loyal to a fault and so brave in this sort of quiet, understated way. He kept the Carrows from torturing the younger years during his seventh year. He helped so many people get to safety, and he died taking out one of Voldemort's Horcruxes. Nagini got him in the end, but he fucking took her with him.”

“And the….odd glasses?”

“Spectrespecs. Luna…she was everything I’m not. We didn't always agree. I found her ability to invent things and believe in fantasy frustrating. She found my refusal to see beyond the written word limiting. But she was one of the best friends I ever had. She would have done anything for any of us. She had a unique way of looking at things….She was….my balance. She forced me to look beyond what was in front of me, and if I’m honest, she is the only reason I accepted Draco’s apology. I’d give just about anything to be able to ask her advice now.” 

“Oh my little puff,” he muttered, wishing for quite possibly the first time in his life that he could take someone else’s pain for them. The broken tone in her voice as she described her friends seemed to physically hurt and it made him want to break something….like Albus’ face. “All those people, they’ve not gone far, you know. Given how much you clearly loved them, they couldn’t. Tell me what that Luna of yours would have said. I know you know.”

Hermione sighed. “She’d….she’d tell me that there were too many Nargles about and my aura was sad. And she’d remind me that we’re not alone, not really. And…and she’d tell me she was right there….and….and when the time came she’d be with me because we’re friends and that's what friends do.” 

“I have no idea what a Nargle is and I’m afraid I cannot see your aura,” he admitted slowly, privately wondering if the witch had been entirely sane. “But if you are determined that it has to be you that does this when the time comes, I will be with you because I’d like to think we’re becoming friends….and that's what friends do.” At that, he gathered the witch firmly against him as she cried…again.

“Thank you, Severus,” she mumbled against his neck once she was calm enough to speak. “I think I'd like to see Draco now.” 

He nodded, releasing her, watching as she darted from the room. Slowly he turned back towards the Order. 

“Thank you,” Lily whispered, tear tracks visible on her face. He nodded sharply.

“I owe you an apology,” his head snapped up to stare directly at the distraught face of the boy who had made his school years hell. He wasn't sure he had ever seen Sirius Black look anything other than furious or cocky and he wasn't sure what to do with it.

“Oh?”

“I…I didn't trust Hermione and Draco when they spoke about you. But…I don't think I would have handled her like that properly. I want to fucking hit something every time she cries and hearing her talk about her death like it's nothing , seeing that look on my cousin's face….I’m struggling to remain in control. I…I want to apologise for my behaviour at school. What we…what I did was unforgivable and you didn't deserve any of it. So…I’m sorry.”

“I…what do you want me to do with that, Black?”

Sirius shrugged. “I don't imagine we’ll ever be friends, but I imagine we’ll see each other. Hermione and Draco aren’t likely to let you go any time soon, so…maybe we try for that civility she asked for.”

Severus nodded slowly, letting out a long exhale. “Fine. Civility.”

“Thank you,” Sirius said softly, sinking into Remus’ side, listening patiently as Remus and James made similar apologies. Lily smiled through her tears beside them as Dorea watched, torn between pride that her boys were finally growing up and terror that her granddaughter was even more reckless than Sirius at his worst.

Chapter Text

“Hey. Can I come in?” Hermione hovered at the door of the library.

“Are you going to keep talking about dying?” Draco asked bluntly.

Hermione sighed, moving to sit in between Draco and Charlus on the sofa, pulling Draco’s arm over her shoulder and burrowing into him.

“I don't want to die,” she said softly. 

“You could have fucking fooled me,” he growled.

She shifted, taking his face between her hands and forcing him to look at her. “Draco….I don't want to die, but if I had to make the choice between saving myself or saving you, I’d save you, every time.”

“No! Haven’t I lost enough, Princess?”

“Haven't I?” she said softly. 

“So why can't we both agree not to die?” he asked, slightly desperately.

“We could, but I’m not sure it's attainable.”

“It is if I ward you both in this house,” Charlus muttered, looking like he was genuinely contemplating doing just that.

“You know we’d break them, Grandfather,” Hermione chided gently, letting go of Draco’s face as she cuddled back into his side. 

Charlus sighed, silently conceding the point. “Will you at least let us try to come up with a plan for Regulus that doesn't involve your deaths?”

“Of course. That was always the plan. I meant what I said; I don't want to die. I think….” she sighed, “I think that I needed to find some way to accept that my death is likely. Not because I’m wishing for it, but because if I don't…I think the fear will consume me. I’ve seen people I love die in horrific ways and I need to come to terms that it might also happen to me so that if it does….if it does I can maintain some semblance of dignity. I refuse to die begging.”

Charlus blanched. “I’d really, really like it if you didn't die at all,” he stated baldly.

“Me too.” She smiled sadly at him. “But life has a tendency not to listen to my wishes, however much I’d like it to.” 

Draco shifted, pulling her onto his lap, burying his face in her curls. “I swear to fucking Merlin Princess, I’ll set fucking blood wards if I have to. You can't die.”

Hermione sighed, sinking into him. “Can we leave it as I’ll try really hard not to?”

“I don't think that's good enough anymore,” he said honestly. “Everyone is gone. I need you here, not with them. Here. With me.”

“Oh Draco,” she sighed. “I want it. I do. But I also need to end this. Every time I close my eyes I see them. All of them. I see what they did to them. I hear them screaming, begging, crying. I…I need to see that he's gone with my own eyes. I need to see them fucking punished.”

Draco exhaled slowly. “I understand. I don’t fucking like it, but I understand. So I’ll make you a deal Princess. We will end this. Together. And if it looks like one of us is going to get hurt, we will activate a joint portkey that we make and keep on us starting tomorrow. I don't give a flying fuck if you want to leave at that point or how fucking close to ending things you are. We do it. Promise me.”

She looked at him and sighed, before pulling him down to kiss him. “Fine, but we don't activate just because one of us gets spooked. We have to actually be in danger. And Draco. Both of us, not just you sending me away.”

He nodded, relaxing for the first time since she had started speaking to the Order. 

“You can make something like that?” Charlus asked curiously.

“Oh…ah yes. Ilegal portkeys ended up being our speciality. We were able to experiment with them so that they can be linked to another one or two. We’ve already given one to the Prewett twins and Benjy Fenwick. I have a few more to make for some others.”

Charlus blinked. “That's genius. Will you teach me?”

“Assuming you don't mention it to Dumbledore we can do that. We got permission from Amelia before we made the twins’ ones, just in case.”

Charlus laughed. “I can do that. Are you ready to go back?”

“Ten minutes,” Draco murmured before Hermione could open her mouth. “Give us ten minutes.”

Charlus nodded. “I’ll see you down there then.”

“Hermione?”

Hermione immediately stiffened. It was rare for Draco to use her given name. “Yes?”

“I…I meant what I said. I can't do this without you. You are the love of my life and…and if we’re going to die, I don't want to do it without doing this.” He shifted suddenly, sinking to his knees in front of her. “Aunt Dorea took me to the vaults the day Lily took you shopping in the muggle world. She still has access to the Black ones,” he confessed, opening a jewellery box. “This belonged to my Great-Aunt Cassiopeia. She was…unusual for her time. Ironically, she refused to marry and devoted her life to research. She was fierce and intelligent and not afraid to stand up for her beliefs. The stories Mother used to tell me about her remind me a lot of you. This is not how I imagined this in my head, you know. I had imagined something far more romantic, but…I don’t want to wait any more. Princess, will you marry me?”

Hermione pressed her hand against her mouth, wondering how on Earth she had any tears left. “Yes, you ridiculous man. Of course, I’ll marry you.” 

Draco laughed, his face losing some of its hauntedness as he slid the ring onto her finger before pulling her to him so he could kiss her. “I love you, so much more than you’ll ever realise.” 

“I love you too, you know.”

He snorted, unable to hide the surge of elation that shot through him. She was going to be his wife. He hoped, more than he had hoped for anything, that they survived what was coming next. He’d be lying if he said he wasn't still scared she’d do something stupid and martyr-ish and sacrifice herself, but for just now, his girl had agreed to be his wife. It was the first step of those naive imaginings of so long ago and for just now, he’d take whatever he could get. “I’d be really fucking disappointed if you didn't Princess,” he said softly, his forehead pressed against hers. “Stay with me for five more minutes before we’re forced to relive that last fucking year?”

She nodded, dragging him back onto the sofa and dropping onto his lap, pressing her body into his as she held him as tightly as she could, her eyes on the pear-shaped black diamond surrounded by tiny regular ones that now decorated her left hand. It was stunning, if more ostentatious than she’d necessarily have chosen herself. She wondered if there would be consequences. Narcissa had a tapestry like the Black family tree, a wedding gift from her father. She wondered if Draco was on it, if when they got married she’d be on it too. Perhaps it was time to persuade Draco to reach out to his mother. It wouldn't do for the other side to realise where and when they came from. That would be disastrous for everyone.

Quietly they slipped back into the dining room, trying not to interrupt Dorcas Meddowes who was detailing her latest findings on the movements of several key Death Eaters with Benjy Fenwick chipping in with his own observations every now and then. It was fascinating to listen to, if slightly horrifying. The information they had been able to gather was invaluable, listing names and activities that Hermione had never even heard of. She silently cursed her lack of knowledge of the first war. She wished she had asked more questions while she had the chance. Although, how did you push for answers when those answers were undoubtedly painful for those remembering the dead. She knew better than most how much that fucking hurt.

She sat silently in between Draco and Severus. The moment she did, she felt Severus’ hand sneak across to grasp hers, squeezing it slightly. His eyes widened when he felt the cold metal of her new accessory and his eyes darted down quickly before a small smirk pulled at his lips. 

“Congratulations,” he breathed directly into her ear. “I told you he didn't hate you.”

She squeezed his hand back in acknowledgement before turning her attention back to Dorcas.

Once she had finished, Minerva turned to look at Draco. “Are you able to continue?” He nodded stiffly. “Very well…take your time. I cannot begin to imagine how difficult this is.”

“We had no idea what objects the Horcruxes were,” Hermione began softly. “But we knew we had seen the locket before. Kreacher was the one who cleared it up in the end. It had been in Grimmauld Place all along. We had seen it when we were cleaning the house, but Mundungus Fletcher had stolen it after Sirius’ death. Dung told us that the locket had been taken by the bloody pink toad so we…hatched a plan. At the time, Harry was Undesirable Number One and I was Number Two, so both of us were wanted by the Ministry. Ron supposedly had Spattergroit, so he wasn't deemed missing at that point. The fact that Gin had gone back to school gave the rumour some credence. 

The Ministry had implemented a Muggleborn Registration Committee, headed by Umbridge. It was..” Hermione shuddered. “It was fucking awful. We broke into the MInistry polyjuiced as employees in early September, but we got separated almost as soon as we got in. I ended up in the courtrooms with Umbridge where she questioned muggleborns, asking them where they had stolen their wand from and accusing them of stealing their magic. It was…almost like entertainment for her. It sure as fuck wasn't a fair trial. All of them were sentenced to Azkaban. Harry ended up stunning her while I stole the locket. We got out but it was so, so fucking close. Yaxley caught me as we apparated, which meant we couldn't go back to Grimmauld. We ended up in a tent in a forest. We operated out of it for months.”

“Muggleborn registration committee?” Amelia queried faintly. 

“Yes.”

“Where was I?”

Hermione winced. “You’d been murdered during the summer before our sixth year, along with Emmeline Vance.”

“Oh,” she said softly, her face blank. 

“During that time Voldemort was in my house.” Draco’s voice was hard. “He was….increasingly unstable. There was very little consistency in the way he behaved. You never quite knew when he was going to snap and torture someone. School was mandatory, for pure and half-bloods anyway. The Carrows had taken over teaching Muggle Studies and Dark Arts. They were…fucking useless teachers but they were vicious and insane. Severus tried to rein them in, but it was hard. Punishments were no longer the loss of house points. They encouraged the students to cast unforgivables on each other or they crucioed students themselves. Longbottom and Red were in charge of the resistance. Students eventually relocated to the Room of Requirement for their own safety because he was fond of using children to keep their families in line.”

“Good Godric,” Minerva breathed, her face twisted in disgust. 

Taking a breath, Hermione spoke, "We were in the tent for months with no real plan. We moved frequently, all of us taking turns wearing the locket.”

“You wore it?” Charlus’ voice cut through the room sharply. 

“We didn't know what else to do. We couldn't risk losing it. It…it was fucking awful. It preyed on your worst fears and got inside your head. Before Christmas, we were starving and cold and disheartened. Ron couldn't cope and left us.”

“He left you?” Gideon asked incredulously.

“You have to understand, the Horcrux really did play with your mind, and for whatever reason the locket horcrux affected him more than Harry and I. He was…the sixth son, born directly before the longed-for daughter. Everything he could have done, one of his brothers had already done it. He was…insecure about it, I suppose. He was worried about his family. Neither Harry nor I had any left to leave behind. He did and we had no way of contacting them to see if they were alright. Add in that we were slowly starving? Well…his famous temper got the better of him and he left.”

“Fuck,” Gideon swore, silently vowing to make his nephew feel less overlooked this time around. 

“Indeed,” Hermione sighed, rubbing her hand over her face tiredly. “Anyway, in our infinite wisdom Harry and I decided to go to Godric's Hollow. It was Christmas eve. We hadn't even realised. We….laid some flowers in the cemetery and realised an old woman was watching us. We were polyjuiced as muggles so she shouldn't have recognised us, but she beckoned us forward and Harry wanted to go. It was…Bathilda Bagshot. Sort of. Against my better judgement, we went. It was a fucking disaster. Nagini was wearing Bathilda’s skin like a fucking Halloween costume and informed Voldemort that we were there. We escaped, barely, but Harry's wand was broken which put us at a distinct disadvantage. 

One night Harry disappeared. It turned out Severus had sent a Patronus. Harry followed it to the sword of Gryffindor while Severus snuck into our tent to hand over potions and some staples I could easily offer an explanation for. Harry came back with Ron, the destroyed locket, and a new wand Ron had stolen from a snatcher. That was around early February. In March, Harry said Voldemort's name. He’d placed a taboo on it so the snatchers were on us immediately. I’d disfigured Harry's face with a stinging hex but the snatchers were less useless than normal and realised who we were. They took us directly to Malfoy Manor.

It was a fucking shit show from start to finish. Greyback dragged us in and Bellatrix noticed the sword that she believed was in her vault... She promised him he could have me once she was done before she sent Harry and Ron to the dungeons. Then she started trying to extract information from me. 

Lucius forced Draco from the room. He came back just as I was beginning to think I was going to lose my mind. He had…incapacitated Lucius. Just as he got to the room, Harry and Ron burst out of the dungeons. Dobby, a house elf, had rescued the other prisoners. Harry told him to stay away unless he was called as he wasn't sure what sort of situation he was walking into. Harry and Ron managed to disarm and disable Bellatrix because she hadn’t been expecting it, but it was…not quite enough to keep her down long. She caught Narcissa lowering the wards to allow us to apparate out. She murdered her just as we all escaped. Obviously, we took Draco with us. Harry and Ron…or well, probably just Harry, realised there was more to the story when it was obvious he was not ok with the state I was in. We ended up in Shell Cottage with Bill and Fleur Weasley along with Luna, a boy from our year called Dean Thomas, Griphook, and Olivander. Dean and Griphook had been brought to the Manor with us, but Luna and Olivander had been in the Malfoy dungeons for months.”

“Sweet Helga,” Amelia muttered. “No one questioned why Olivander just disappeared?”

Hermione shrugged. “Of course they did. Although we all assumed he was dead.”

“Why take him?” Augusta asked with a frown.

“I…” she darted a look at Dumbledore. “Remember when we said something odd happened with Harry and Voldemort's wands at the graveyard?” Several people frowned before they nodded, casting their minds back to that seemingly innocuous comment. “They both had a phoenix feather core. The feathers came from the same phoenix. He wanted to know how to get around that.”

“What aren't you saying?” Charlus asked sharply. 

“I…fuck. The Hallows are real.” 

“The Hallows? The fucking three brothers’ Deathly Hallows?” Sirius demanded.

“Yes,” Hermione whispered. “Voldemort had heard of the wand. He wanted it.”

“But it's a story!”

“I have no idea whether they actually came from Death. I doubt it but the Hallows as in the cloak, the stone, and the wand? Very much real. I’ve seen all three. All of you have seen at least one. Some of you have seen two.”

Everyone’s jaw dropped. 

“Explain,” Moody demanded tersely. 

Hermione’s eyes shot to Draco. He shrugged. “I don't know,” he said softly. 

“Fuck,” she hissed. “Look, I don't see this going well. All I can say is having all three doesn't make you the master of death. If it did. Harry would still be alive.”

“He had all three?” James asked.

“Yes. He was master of the elder wand, owner of the cloak, and he held the resurrection stone in his hand. And he walked to his death. And he died.”

“Fuck. The cloak….”

“Yes.” 

“Fuck,” he said again, his eyes wide as he suddenly began to realise how rare his cloak was.

Her eyes found Dumbledore’s. “A wand doesn't make you any more than you are and you cannot bring her back. However much you wish it.” 

He flinched. 

Chapter Text

“What happened next?” Minerva asked into the confused silence. 

“We…ah…we broke into Gringotts,” Hermione said faintly. 

“You broke into Gringotts?” Severus repeated, looking at her like he was sure he had misheard. The look was mirrored on all of the faces in the room.

“Ah, yes?” 

“Have you no sense of self-preservation?” he snarled. “What the fuck were you thinking! And you!” Draco looked momentarily startled at being addressed. “You were a fucking Slytherin! You have no excuse!”

Draco's face twisted into wry amusement. “I was surrounded by sodding Gryffindors and outvoted.”

“It worked didn't it,” Hermione said mulishly. 

“Yes,” Draco reluctantly agreed. “If you consider breaking back out on a dragon to be working.”

“You flew a dragon!” James asked, his eyes wide. 

“Yes. It was bloody awful! Poor thing! They were torturing it!”

Several of the older members of the Order….and Severus and Remus, closed their eyes like they were praying for patience.

“Explain,” Charlus demanded tersely, looking distinctly unimpressed. 

Hermione sighed. “When Bellatrix was…interrogating me, she was overly concerned we’d been in her vault. It made me think that perhaps she had something to hide, which made me wonder if she had a Horcrux.”

“Why?” 

Hermione looked back at her Grandfather, clearly weighing her words. “The diary got into the school because Lucius Malfoy slipped it into Ginny's school things during an altercation with Mr. Weasley in Diagon Alley. It made sense to wonder if perhaps he'd given another one to another of his loyal followers and Bella was known for being one of his favourites.”

“Ok.” He let out a long exhale. “So there was some semblance of reasoning.”

“Of course there was! Do you think we broke into bloody Gringotts on a whim? We weren't actually trying to die!”

“You could have fooled me,” Severus muttered. 

“Fuck off! We were desperate! It was the best we had to fucking go on!”

“How did you get in?” Charlus sighed. 

“We had Bella’s wand from when the boys had incapacitated her and I found….hairs on me. She’d been pretty fucking close after all.”

“You broke into Gringotts polyjuiced as Bellatrix Lestrange?” Dorea clarified, looking nauseated. 

“Yes. We transfigured Ron and Draco and said they were foreign wizards interested in the cause. Harry and Griphook hid under the cloak. It…well the goblins were suspicious. Harry had to imperius one of them to get us down. The Thief's Downfall obviously washed away the enchantments, but we got in. We got the cup. Bella had a few geminio charms on her things, so that was fun. She fucking made it burn, sadistic bitch. Unfortunately, our presence had been detected, so we untethered the dragon and broke through the roof.”

“Just like that,” Remus said in a slightly strangled voice. 

“Not quite,” Hermione replied wryly. “It was bloody terrifying and not at all pleasant. There was a lot of shouting, screaming, running about, and panicking, but we didn't have a lot of options.”

“How did you get off the dragon?” Severus asked in a voice that sounded like he was desperately forcing it to be calm.

“Oh…we..ah..jumped. When it got low enough to a body of water.”

“You jumped,” he stated flatly.

“Yes. Again, not a lot of options. Then Harry got a vision. Voldemort was aware of our break-in and was fucking furious, so we headed to Hogwarts.”

“Why?” Charlus asked again, in a voice eerily similar to Severus’.

“Oh, ah because Harry confirmed that there was a Horcrux there and Voldemort was planning on heading there next.”

“Absolutely preposterous. I would know!” Dumbledore protested, finding his voice.

“We can take you there now to prove you wouldn't,” Draco offered. 

“It's there already?” Minerva gasped.

“What do you know about the come and go room?” Draco asked in response.

“Room of requirement!” Hermione protested.

“Same thing, Princess.”

“It's truly real?” Minerva asked. “It…it was said to be Helga Hufflepuff’s contribution to the castle. I know you mentioned it before but….the true Room of Requirement?”

“Oh, it's real,” Hermione snorted. “In one form, it's the room of hidden things. That is where Voldemort stored his Horcrux. He thought it was the only one who knew about it, the arrogant fucking arse.”

“What was the Horcrux?”

“Oh. Ah, Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem.”

“Her lost diadem?” Minerva queried, sounding stunned.

“Well…maybe less emphasis on the lost part seeing as we know where it is. But yes, that diadem.”

“You cannot expect us to believe this!” Albus exclaimed.

“Again. We can take you there to prove it. Why the fuck would we lie? It's too easy to sodding check! Idiot.”

“Pygmy puff,” Severus growled in warning, seeing the look on the Headmaster's face. 

“I was distracted before, you know, but I absolutely will not answer that!” Hermione shot back.

“And yet you just did,” Severus’ grin was smug. 

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I got a message to Severus. We invaded the castle through the Hog’s Head and things….I….It was the beginning of the end.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, wrapping her tattooed arm around her waist as if hugging them close. “Harry…Harry had no idea where the diadem was. Luna suggested we speak to the Grey Lady.”

“Why?” Sirius asked before he could stop himself.

“Because when she was alive she was Helena Ravenclaw. Rowena’s daughter,” she said softly. “Harry and Luna found her. She….she gave them a bit of a riddle, but they worked it out. After Harry had gone, the Order arrived. Aberforth had informed them of our appearance. Ron and I went to the Chamber of Secrets to get a basilisk fang so we could destroy the Horcruxes. We left Draco with Bill to marshall people into some semblance of order.” She breathed in deeply. Next to her she felt Draco steel himself. “It…it descended into chaos quickly. We destroyed the cup. Then Ron and I joined Harry in the Room. It…Crabbe. He…cast fiendfyre. We got out but…just. It was all levels of insane. We met up with Draco and Luna just in time….just in time to pull Percy away from a falling wall. We….we were not quick enough for Fred.” She swallowed, swiping at the tears. “There was nothing we could do,” she whispered. “George….George lost it. He….launched himself at Rookwood and he….he killed him too. Killing curse. At least it was quick.” The Prewett twins looked ill, their pale faces staring at her in horror as they contemplated the fate of the tiny toddlers currently driving their sister to madness with their antics. “We…all we had left was the snake. And Voldemort was keeping it close, so we went looking for it.” She ignored Severus’ muttered, “Of fucking course you did.” 

“We found him in the shrieking shack. Draco and Luna had stayed behind to get Fred and George somewhere…where they couldn't be desecrated, so it was just Harry, Ron, and I. He had Severus.” Her voice was so quiet all of them had to strain to hear her. The look on Severus’ face indicated that he knew what was coming. “He thought Severus was the owner of the elder wand. He wasn't….. Draco had disarmed Dumbledore before Severus got to the Astronomy tower that night and Harry had disarmed him at the Manor before his brain caught up with him. But Voldemort didn't know that. So he….fuck.” She took in a gasping breath. 

“He murdered me. With the snake?” Severus finished for her.

Hermione flung herself at him, sobbing. “We tried. We tried. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry.”

“Hush, little puff. I’m sure there was nothing to be done.”

The Order sat in the stunned silence that was becoming their norm as they watched the usually standoffish Severus Snape rock a crying witch in his arms for the second time that night, with a look that could only be described as fond.

“But we should have done something!” she sobbed. “I healed Harry when Nagini bit him. Why couldn't we save you!”

“I don't know, Hermione,” he said softly. “But I have no doubt that you did everything you could.” He pulled her into his body tighter. “You have to let go of the guilt or it's going to drown you. I am here, your friends will live. You are doing that. Now, no more crying over me, I’m alive and in no danger of being bitten by a snake. A dog perhaps….but not a snake”

Hermione shuddered, ignoring his feeble attempt at levity, “Promise me that if he acquires her early you’ll stay far, far away.”

“Of course.” She looked up, slightly startled by his easy agreement. “What is it you keep telling us? I do not want to die.”

She huffed out a small laugh. “Fine.”

“What happened next?” he prompted gently. 

“You gave Harry memories as you were dying,” she said softly into his chest. “And He …he gave us an hour and told Harry to come to him. Harry went off to view your memories. Alone. And Ron and I….we…..we went to the Great Hall.”

“Luna and I met her there.” Draco’s voice began softly as Hermione's tears began to fall faster. “Fred and George weren't the only casualties. Remus and…Tonks.”

“Tonks?” Remus yelped. 

“My cousin, Tonks? Tiny Dora?.” Sirius whispered.

“Yes. She was an Auror. We couldn't have kept her away even if we had wanted to,'' Draco said gently. “Flitwick. Sinistra. What looked like half of the Aurors. Lavender Brown. The Patil sisters. Colin Creevy. Seamus Finigan. Blaise Zabini. Hannah Abbot. Ernie MacMillan. Cho Chang. Marietta Edgecombe. Pansy Parkinson. Cormack McLaggen. Marcus Flint. Terry Boot.” The Order grew paler with every name Draco uttered. “And so many more I didn't know. Some were Order members, some were not. Civilians came once the residents of Hogsmeade got the word out. Lots of them were students. Many of them weren't even of age. There were casualties on both sides, but most of them were ours. I know that a lot of those names don't really mean much to you, but Lavender Brown was Weasley's first girlfriend. Parvati Patil shared Hermione's dorm. Cho Chang was Potter's first kiss. Marcus Flint was my Quidditch captain. Blaise Zabini was my friend. A lot of them were people we knew. And…I don't think I’ll ever forget any of their faces.”

Hermione moved off Severus’ lap to hug him, her face mirroring the heartbreak on his. 

“What happened next?” Minerva whispered, looking older than Hermione had ever seen her. 

“Harry….Harry and his fucking hero complex.” She took a moment, trying to pull herself together for what was arguably the hardest death of all of them. “He…he watched Severus’ memories. Dumbledore had been raising him to fucking die at the right time.” The sob that tore from her was entirely involuntary as she stared at the Headmaster. “Dumbledore…he told Severus Harry had to die by Voldemort's hand because….because he thought he was a living Horcrux. Seventeen fucking years you absolute bastard!” she screamed suddenly. “Seventeen fucking years and you couldn't come up with another fucking plan!” The fight left her as quickly as it came as she collapsed into Draco’s side, silence ringing through the room. Many faces were torn between rage and grief. James appeared to be attempting to murder the headmaster with his eyes alone, on either side of him Lily and Dorea sat with blank faces, their knuckles white where they were gripping his hands in theirs . “He walked to his death willingly,” she whispered eventually. “All alone. He wouldn’t let any of us go with him. We tried and…..and they made Hagrid carry him back. To show us. To prove Harry was dead.” Her eyes met the Headmaster’s again, her voice eerily calm, sending a shudder around the room. “You murdered my brother. Voldemort might have cast the curse, but you were fucking responsible. And I will never fucking forgive you for it.”

Albus stared back at her. A living Horcrux? It was unimaginable. He could ignore her ranting. At the end of the day there had been a prophecy to uphold, although he really did need to work out what had gone wrong with that. He surely hadn't meant the boy to die, not without taking Tom with him. He’d miscalculated somewhere. He’d do better next time though. He had time. 

“He knew all the time?” Lily asked softly, her face still frozen in a blank mask. 

“He suspected, yes. Apparently it was confirmed after Harry saw Mr. Weasley being attacked,” Draco supplied, glancing worriedly down at Hermione, where she was burrowed into his side. 

The tears had stopped, but her face reminded him vividly of the days following Potter's death where she had been almost stupefied in her grief. It wasn't a look he had ever wanted to see again. 

“I see,” Lily replied just as softly, ignoring the worried glances James was shooting her. “What happened next?”

“Voldemort asked people to join him. He promised mercy. Longbottom was first. He….openly defied him, so Voldemort put the sorting hat on his head and set it on fire. Somehow, he escaped unscathed. The sword of Gryffindor came from somewhere.”

“Inside the hat,” Hermione said softly. 

“Inside the hat?” Draco frowned.

“Yes. That's how it worked for Harry in second year anyway.”

“Oh. Right well…he had the sword and he used it to take off that fucking snake's head but…it bit him. Nagini's venom was…potent. He was dead in minutes.”

“Some people joined him after that,” Hermione said softly. “Many didn't but we were still outnumbered. We fought for a while. We lost Arthur Weasley, Percy Weasley, Dean Thomas, and several more students before we fled. Molly Weasley, Minerva, Augusta, and Andromeda were in the first round of captures. They were….publicly paraded down Diagon Alley before they were taken back to Hogwarts. We heard about it through a radio programme that Lee Jordan, a friend of the Weasley twins, was running. Kingsley was killed alongside a band of Aurors trying to rescue them. Ginny died when they were taken. We…we tried. We met up with a group of others in the forest, but there were so many of them. They brought the remaining students out to watch, reminding them what would happen if they stepped out of line. It was…it was fucking horrendous. They cast on them individually, making the others watch. Crucios. Severing curses. Bone breakers. They wanted them to beg for death. None of it was quick. Bill and Charlie were also killed during that skirmish.”

“Fleur was caught trying to get food. Susan Bones was murdered during a small fight a few weeks later. We avoided detection for a while, but they caught up with us. Weasley took a sectumsempra meant for Hermione. We had to leave him there,” Draco continued his voice barely above a whisper.

“Grey…Greyback got Luna two weeks after Ron,” Hermione picked up the narrative, her eyes blank as she relived the horrors they were describing. “And then it was back to just being us. Lee gave daily reports listing the deaths. And then….then the radio went silent. We… broke back into Grimmauld. When we had stayed there in the beginning we had discussed a contingency: a potion and a spell that was hidden in the Black family grimoire.”

“The tempus reset ritual?” Sirius asked 

“Yes. We worked on it for weeks. I have no idea how Harry managed to get it to send us here, but I assume it was his doing. We had originally aimed for earlier and in a different location.”

“What location?”

“A random one in the forest of Dean. We hadn't actually anticipated involving anyone this much, or at least I hadn't. He apparently had other ideas.”

“I’ve never heard of it,” Edgar Bones protested.

“No, I don't imagine you would have. One of the Black ancestors invented it. It allows you to go back in time without a time turner. Theoretically, it should work to embed you in the timeline so there are no nasty little side effects. You prepare the potion. Its active ingredient is time sand that you… programme almost, using a spell that allows you to dictate the time and place you go to. I left that to Harry while I sorted the polyjuice, which was apparently a stupid plan. After that it's a simple matter of ritual runes, ingesting some of the potion, and casting the spell. And well…you saw the results.”

“Indeed we did,” Augusta said softly.

Chapter Text

The week was quiet. Charlus had demanded that the Order take time to process before they decided on their next move. Hermione had locked herself away in an effort to control her grief. Draco alternated between attempting to comfort her and losing himself inside his own head. He had taken to wandering the grounds of Potter manor in random paths to give himself something to do. Remus joined him frequently, attempting to provide comfort while Hermione was absent. Charlus found him by the pond, his tall frame curled in on itself. He was longer sickly thin, but he was still only an echo of the man he should have been.

“How are you doing?” he asked softly, sitting down next to him. 

Draco shrugged, not looking at him. “I’m better than Hermione.”

“I gather that would not be particularly difficult. Severus is in speaking with her now.”

“She let him in?”

Charlus huffed out a laugh. ”I don’t think he gave her much choice. Thankfully he has a strong shield charm.”

Draco laughed quietly. “He was always good at getting through to her when no one else could.”

“I believe it's a case of shared stubbornness,” Charlus replied with some amusement.

“Something like that,” Draco agreed softly.

“You’re avoiding my question,” Charlus pointed out, not looking at him.

“I know.”

“It won't help, you know.”

Draco sighed, seeming to deflate. “I know. I….we had no time, really, to deal with any of it. And…they’re all gone. Gods I didn't even like Weasley and I’d give just about anything to see him walk through that door and throw a fucking insult at me because at least that way he’d be alive.”

“And one day he will be. Not the Weasley you knew, but a version of him. You’re doing this for them,” Charlus reminded him gently.

“And that's another thing! I know we have to do this, I do. Hermione would never fucking allow it any other way and I refuse to let her go without me, but when the fuck does it stop? When do we stop giving? She might actually die this time. Dumbledore sure as fuck doesn't care about her safety. I….and if she doesn't…. what happens when she loses someone else? She's barely functioning as it is.”

Charlus sighed, attempting to marshall his thoughts. “I don't have an answer to that,” he admitted softly, deciding that voicing just how worried he was about his granddaughter was not the best course of action. “We are going to do everything we can to ensure minimal casualties, but we both know any promises I may make would be empty ones. Hermione is stronger than anyone seems to want to give her credit for. She is here. She is willing to help. I know that she is struggling, but the fact that she hasn't given up tells me that she’ll be alright eventually.”

“What if she's just keeping going until it's all over and she can finally give herself permission to die?” Draco asked quietly, holding his body tense as if dreading confirmation of his fears.

“Do you think that's what she's doing?” Charlus asked gently.

“I don't know! She won't fucking talk to me!” Draco exclaimed like it had been ripped from him.

“I think she’s just as scared as you are. You know she's just as scared as you are. She told you,” Charlus reminded him finally.

“I don't know how to help her,” Draco confessed softly, instead of acknowledging Charlus’ reminder. 

“Then perhaps….perhaps what you need to do to help her is just be there. Allow others to attempt to force her to talk. Severus seems the sort to not take no for an answer if he’s convinced he's right. Maybe what she needs is someone who just allows her to be.” Draco swallowed harshly but nodded. “And Draco? You must take care of yourself too. Hermione is not the only one who lost people.”

“No,” he acknowledged softly. “But she lost more. I….friends are a strange thing in Slytherin. I’m not saying we don't have them, but there are rules and expectations and hierarchies. Blaise was a friend. But for all he eventually joined the right side, I couldn't tell him about Hermione. It put us all at risk and I was never sure where his loyalties lay. Vince and Greg….they should have been friends, but they believed the doctrine. They’d have turned on me quicker than I could blink if they’d known what I really believed. Theo didn't believe either, but he would never have defied his father. He was too scared and that made him dangerous. He was so starved for affection that he would have offered Hermione up without a second thought just to gain some approval. Pansy…Pans wanted to be a perfect pureblood wife. She believed what we were taught and because she didn’t know anything else she hid her real personality behind the veneer she thought we wanted to see. She very much had her eye on becoming my wife and she would have seen it as her duty to save me from sullying myself with a mudblood. Daph and Astoria kept out of it. The Greengrasses fled to remain neutral, but because their stance was the same as they had in the first war, there was a divide. Staunch followers didn't trust them and I had to act like a believer, first to escape my father's punishment and later to stay alive. Tracy Davis was a half-blood. She also escaped the country with her muggleborn mother to prevent her from being locked in Azkaban. And well….half-bloods in Slytherin are a rarity. She was not safe to get to know too closely. I think if the war hadn’t happened once we were out of school the friendships could have become something real with some of them. But in school, while we were still under our parent's thumbs? Everything was political and everything was watched and relayed back. It was fucking awful a lot of the time. I have never had a friendship like Hermione had with Potter and Weasley. I miss my mother. I loved her, but even she didn't truly support me. She could have gotten us out, but she believed that muggleborns were below us. Even knowing I loved Hermione, she hoped it was a phase. She might have helped us escape that night, but it was only after I incapacitated my father. She was happy to watch as the love of my life was tortured in front of us by my fucking deranged aunt. She was just another muggleborn who wasn’t worth her time as far as she was concerned. If anything, it would have suited her for Hermione to have died, that way she wouldn't have had to worry about me sullying her precious pureblooded line. Did Hermione tell you what happened to her parents?”

Charlus shook his head as he desperately tried to process Draco’s explanation. “No. She mentioned all she had was Harry, but she never explained how.”

“She obliviated them. Erased all memories of her and sent them to Australia to keep them safe. She loved them so much that she was willing to never have them know her again and…I….I don't think anyone other than her has ever even come close to loving me like that. So yes, I’ve lost people too, but I’m not sure I really had many of them to begin with. It is not the same.”

Allowing the silence to fall, Charlus contemplated how fucking awful Draco’s words were as he struggled to comfort the broken love-starved boy next to him. There truly was nothing he could say.

“Hermione, you are going to talk to me,” Severus demanded, sitting gingerly on the bed next to the witch who was curled into a ball beneath the covers. “People are worried,” he continued softly. “I am worried and Draco….Draco is lost. Come on Pygmy Puff, don't shut us out.”

Hermione turned slowly and Severus almost winced at the sight of her pale face and red-rimmed eyes. She looked fucking awful. “I don't know how to do this, Severus,” she said softly. “I…I knew they were dead, but I don't think I had really processed what that meant. I’m….I’m never going to see them again, not my versions. They're all gone.” She looked up at him, tears already falling. “I don't want them to be gone, Severus. I want them here. I need them here. Please….Please, I need them.”

“Oh, Hermione,” he whispered, gathering the now sobbing witch to him. “It's going to be ok.”

“How?”

“I….I don't know. I don't know, but it will be. It has to be. You deserve at least that.”

“It’ll never be them though Severus,” she sobbed. “They're all dead. I let all of them die. Couldn't I have done something? Insisted on bringing more of us back earlier? Why did they all have to die? It's not fair! None of it is fucking fair! Why did they have to die? Why was it me who lived?”

“You did not let them die,” he whispered harshly into her hair. “This is not your fault. You are the one giving up everything to give them the life they deserved, the life you deserved.”

“I…I just want them back,” she sobbed. “I don't want to have to give them up.”

“I know,” he crooned softly, slightly horrified to find his face wet. “I know you do, and I wish I could do that for you, but I can't. All we can do is end this, Hermione. Give them the life they should have had.”

“I want the life we should all have had too,” she whispered. 

“I know, little puff. And I’m sorry you can't have it.” 

“When will it stop hurting Severus?” she asked finally, her voice small.

“I don't think it does,” he replied honestly. “I think you just learn to live with it.”

With Hermione dozing on his chest, Severus settled himself on the bed, wondering how the fuck he had ended up here. He had no idea what he was doing. Surely this was some alternative universe when he was considered the best person to comfort another human being? And yet…she had refused to speak to anyone else. Not that what she had said to him had been helpful. He couldn't raise the dead, however much he fucking wished he could. But still, her trust in him was…intoxicating. No one trusted him, not completely, and yet this broken little witch seemed to. Honorary Uncle was how she’d described the Severus from her time. It was fucking baffling, and yet he couldn't deny the connection. Perhaps not Uncle. He was not yet that old. But cousin? Sibling? Something like that. And he had no idea what to do with it. 

“It’s jist me, lass. Yer Grandmother said I could jist come up.” Severus' eyes widened at the sight of the elderly witch. “Oh. An’ whae might you be, my lad?”

“Severus Snape,” he replied stiffly.

“Healer McMillan,” she responded with a slight smile. “Where's yon laddie?”

“Draco?”

“Aye.”

“I do not know. Things have been….difficult.”

“Mair difficult than their usual?” the witch asked in surprise.

“I do not know what you know,” he huffed.

“Not much, Mr. Snape,” Madam Pomfrey bustled in behind the odd little witch. “But we’re bound by so many oaths you can speak reasonably freely.”

Severus nodded slowly, weighing up the options. “You are aware of where Hermione and Draco came from?” Both witches nodded. “They finished explaining the events leading up to their relocation at the end of last week. I think those events are just hitting them now.”

“We knew it wisna guid lad, but I get the impression I canna quite comprehend how bad it was.” Healer McMillan murmured, her face drawn into a sympathetic frown her eyes on Hermione.

“No,” Severus replied softly, looking down at the sleeping witch. “Everyone was dead. She is….mourning and struggling with it.”

“Everyone?” Poppy gasped.

“Yes. They lost everything.” 

“Dorea sent me up,” Draco announced from the door, looking warily around the room's occupants before his eyes fell on Hermione. “She finally gave in then,” he said softly, wandering over to the bed and running a hand over her head.

“Yes. I imagine sleep is required to replenish her tears. The gods know she cannot have any left currently.”

Draco's lip twitched. “Thank you.”

“For?”

“Getting her to talk.”

Severus shrugged awkwardly. “I did not do much. Certainly not enough anyway.”

Draco hummed. “It's more than the rest of us have managed,” he sighed. “Stubborn witch.”

“I do not know how to hand her over without waking her.” Severus muttered uncomfortably.

“You don't. I’m impressed she's stayed asleep through us talking. She really must be exhausted.”

“Perhaps today is no the day to be lookin’ tae be daein anythin ither than a check-up then laddie. I kin come back nixt week, anither week’ll no dae ony hairm tae yer hearts. In fact, it might jist help,” Healer Mcmillan interjected softly. 

Draco nodded. “I’ll trust your judgement. I don't think she could handle anything else right now.”

The Healer smiled gently. “Dinna fash laddie. That lass o’ yours is a strong one. She’ll be alright in the end. Now then, as the lass’ll require some wrangling, we’ll start wi’ you I think.” Draco nodded warily. “We kin dae it in anither room lad.”

“It's fine.”

“Yer sure, lad?”

“Yes,” Draco sighed, sitting down at the end of the bed.

“Verra well.” The healer raised her wand. “Malnutrition is better. Nerves look much better. Heart is stable. Weight’s coming up. Reproductive system looks better,” the healer murmured as Poppy took notes. “Right, ye’ll need those twae extra weeks o’ the nerve potion, but ye should be grand aifter that. Yer weight isna healthy but is a damn sight better than it wiz. The malnutrition is almost gone. Those nutrition potions are dain their jobs weel. Anither week or twae and ye kin come aff them. Now, there's a wee bit I kin see I missed now some o the ither damage is healin’ so if ye dinna mind, I’d like tae hae anither go. It shouldna hurt as much as before.”

“Do I need to lie down?” Draco sighed. 

“It does mak it easier,” Isobelle agreed with a sympathetic smile.

“Fine. We’ll need to go to another room.”

“No you don't. I'm awake,” Hermione mumbled, her eyes still firmly shut. 

“Yes, you look it, Princess,” Draco said drily. 

“Just tired,” she yawned. “Severus is surprisingly comfortable.”

Draco snorted. “I’ll be sure to remember that next time you can't sleep.” She hummed, not moving. “Princess, you need to actually move if I’m going to lie down.”

“Oh. Sorry. Sleepy.”

“We’d noticed. Go back to sleep Princess,” he murmured, running a hand over her head.

“Kay.” 

Draco huffed out a laugh as she snuggled back into Severus and promptly went back to sleep. 

“You can't just leave me here!” Severus hissed. 

“Why not? She's sleeping.” Draco grinned, there was something reassuringly familiar about Severus' discomfort. The elder version of him had been similar.

“I am not a mattress!”

“You are currently,” Draco snorted. “I’ll come back and try and persuade her to move in a bit,” he promised, following the Healer and Madam Pomphrey out of the room, leaving Severus to help Hermione put the pieces back together, whether he wanted to or not.

Chapter Text

“Hey,” Lily said softly as she sat down beside Hermione on the grass, having left Remus to handle Draco. “How are you doing?”

Hermione shrugged. “I’m…ok. I think. It's just hard. I miss them all so fucking much, and I don't think it had hit me before that they were gone. There was always another battle, another plan, another location. We didn't stop. We couldn't. And now…now I have, and it hurts. I almost wish there was something to plan, someone to fight, because I don't know how to do this. How do you come to terms with your entire life being gone?”

“I don't know,” Lily confessed sadly, wishing she had words, scared she was going to say the wrong thing. They’d barely seen Hermione recently, and she was terrified she was going to undo whatever Severus had done to get her to the point where she was interacting with them again. “Will you tell me about him?”

“Harry?”

“Yes. I…only if you want. I don't want to push.”

Hermione gave her a sad smile. “He was….my best friend. He was so unassuming most of the time, although every now and then he’d say something that reminded me of Sirius and I’d have to knock some humility back into him.” Lily snorted, watching Hermione intently. “He was nosy and couldn't leave an adventure alone, but he was also…brave and gods, it seems like such a little word to encompass everything he was, but I don't know how else to say it. He was willing to sacrifice himself for whoever needed it. He didn't think twice about barreling in head first. He was the person things always happened to, if something was happening, Harry was always in the middle of it.” She huffed out a laugh, “Of course he put himself there half the time. He…when he loved you, he loved you completely. He was a bit of an arse at points. Third year was probably the most memorable and we fell out over a fucking broomstick, but on the whole, he was the person who was there to make me feel better then things were shit. I… We never thought he could lose. The world without Harry in it was so fucking inconceivable. I couldn't think about it because it didn't make fucking sense. It doesn't make sense.” Lily reached out, wrapping an arm around the other girls thin shoulders, offering what little comfort she could as Hermione tried to gather herself back together. “He…he was quidditch mad, youngest seeker in a century and all. His favourite sweetie was chocolate frogs, although he prefered treacle tart over just about anything. He was unwaveringly kind to the younger years and house elves. He had a particularly special relationship with Dobby. He was a Malfoy elf that Harry freed in second year. He….he was clueless with girls. It took him fucking ages to realise he liked Ginny and he totally neglected poor Parvati at the Yule Ball. He had a mischievous streak a mile wide. He loved exploring under that damned cloak. He…he just…gods. I don't know. I just fucking miss him so much.”

“He sounds amazing,” Lily replied softly, her arm tightening around Hermione's shoulders as she cried, silently fantasising about how she’d murder the Dumbledore for allowing this to happen. 

“He was,” Hermione whispered eventually. 

“Princess?” Draco ventured quietly, not entirely sure how responsive Hermione would be. He knew she’d left the room at least for a little while, which was a vast improvement, but he was still worried. 

“Yes?” Hermione shifted so she was sitting on the bed, her face pale and her eyes red-rimmed, but looking more alert than he'd seen her. He'd have to send Severus something. Gods, he hadn't realised how much he had missed her until she was finally looking at him again.

“How are you?”

Hermione shrugged. “Lost,” she admitted quietly. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve been….not here. And…I know you’re struggling too and…I just…”

“Hush, Princess. It's alright. Just…please don't leave me again? The others are…trying, but they don't really understand and I’ve missed you. Salazar Hermione, I’ve missed you so fucking much.”

Hermione nodded, throwing her arms around him. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Don't be,” he murmured into her hair, luxuriating in the feeling of her responding to him again. “You're allowed to grieve. Just stay with me next time.”

He felt her squeeze him tighter. “Promise.”

They sat in silence, neither sure that they had the words to make the other feel better as they simply allowed themselves a moment to breathe. 

“Draco?” Hermione murmured into the silence several moments later.

“Hmmm?”

“We need to talk about your mother. What happens if she looks at her tapestry?

“Fuck,” he hissed. “I’d forgotten about that.”

“Maybe… maybe we could ask Severus to help? She’ll trust him, at least a little. Maybe it's time to speak to her.”

Draco nodded slowly. “Ok. I… I don't know how I'm going to face her,” he whispered finally. 

“Oh, Draco. It was not your fault,” Hermione soothed, the arm flung over him tightening as if she could force the guilt out.

“I… logically I know that. And the guilt is part of it, but Hermione… she watched as my psychotic Aunt tortured you in fucking front of us. I feel guilty but I’m also…fucking furious with her. And we both know that's not going to work if we’re attempting to get her to see our side. Not that I’m convinced she will,” he sighed. “Maybe the fact she ended up dead will make her listen, but to be honest, I think we’re going to have to come up with a plan to silence her or at the very least manipulate the tapestry.”

“Let's hope it doesn't come to that,” she replied softly, already wondering how the fuck they were going to manage that. “When is the Order back?”

“Tomorrow,” he sighed. “We need to discuss Regulus.”

“I know. I’ll talk to Severus when he comes next. We’ll need him for that, too.”

Draco let out a huff of laughter. “I’m sure he’ll be thrilled. At this rate, he'll be the hardest working member of the Order. The rest of us can just put our feet up.”

“You're awake.” Dorea's voice came from the door, watching them with trepidation.

“Yes,” Hermione agreed. “I…I’m sorry for how I’ve behaved over this past week.”

“No,” Dorea cut across her sharply. “Do not dare apologise. I won't deny that we were worried, but I think I’d have been more worried if you hadn’t grieved at all. It is going to be difficult and I wish more than anything I could spare you it, but please don't ever apologise for needing to mourn. You are going to have days where it seems unbearable. We understand. Now, if you’re up for it, Lily and James are arguing about their wedding and we could do with an extra couple of mediators.”

Hermione smiled softly. “Sure. I imagine it’ll be fun to see Lily hex him.”

Dorea snorted. “I’m impressed with her restraint thus far. Your Severus is here and appears to be enjoying it immensely. He's rather adept at subtly stirring the caldron, is he not?”

Draco laughed. “You have no idea. Come on Princess, this might actually be fun.”

“We are not having wedding crups carrying the rings!” Lily’s voice rang out as they neared the living room.

“But Lils! It’d be adorable! Tell her Pads!”

“It really would! We could get them little bow ties and jackets, and it’d be like the wedding that keeps on giving because we’d have to bloody keep them! I want to call one of them Maurice. Moony, we can have a crup, can't we? Can you imagine it?”

Hermione bit her lip, stifling a laugh for what felt like the first time in forever. They were utterly ridiculous, she thought as she took in Sirius’ pleading expression, Remus’ fond exasperation, James' earnestness, and Lily’s rapidly building exasperation. 

“Maybe save that for your wedding, Pads?” she suggested lightly. 

“Kitten! Kitten, we've missed you!” At that he flung himself out of his seat and enveloped her in a hug so tight it stole her breath. 

“Pads! Can't breathe.” 

“Right, right. Sorry, Kitten,” he mumbled, releasing her slightly. “Are you back now?”

Hermione sighed. “I think so.”

“Don't leave us again,” he demanded.

Hermione bit her lip against the tears that threatened. “I’ll try not to Pads.” He squeezed her tightly again in response.

“Now, come on. We’re discussing Prongsie’s wedding, and seeing as we’re apparently not allowed the crups, we need some ideas,” he exclaimed, dragging her towards a seat.

Hermione smiled slightly. “Haven't James and Lily got ideas of their own? I don't believe for a second that the crups were his idea.”

James grimaced. “None that suit Pads’ exacting standards or that Lily and I agree on,” he muttered, standing up to give Hermione a hug that was so tight it bordered on painful. “Don't scare me like that again,” he muttered into her hair. “I’m still your Dad you know.”

She whacked his arm. “You are not my dad!”

“Am too,” he grinned, releasing her, his eyes scanning her face. “You are alright?”

She shrugged. “No. But I’m….better than I was.” 

He nodded. “I’ll take that. Now come and rein your Uncle Sirius in.”

“No! No, absolutely not!” she spluttered as the others laughed at her. 

“Welcome back,” Severus murmured into her ear, reaching to squeeze her hand. 

She smiled wanly. “Thank you…I…” she sighed, “Just thank you.” 

He nodded before sending her a smirk. “You know in the muggle world they use doves at weddings.”

Hermione bit her lip hard at the look of betrayal Lily sent him as James and Sirius’ eyes lit up. Beside her, Draco sniggered. 

“You could get married too,” James voiced into a lull looking pointedly at Draco. “Take some of the pressure off. Not many people can say they got married on the same day as their parents.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “For the love of Merlin,” she muttered. “We couldn't possibly take away from your big day.”

“No…no! Seriously! Think about it. Two weddings… we’re not allowed crups but you are!”

“I’m not having ring-bearing crups!” Hermione exclaimed exasperatedly.

“Spoilsport,” he grinned. “Fine, crups are for Padfoot’s wedding. Fitting really. Looks like our wedding will just need to be boring, no crups.”

“Or doves,” Lily cut in, shooting another glare at Severus who just grinned back.

“Or doves,” James sighed. “Just you, me, our darling daughter, and her fiance. Perfect.”

“James!” Hermione exclaimed exasperatedly. 

“That's Dad to you, young lady!”

“James, I swear to Circe.”

Beside him, Lily looked thoughtful. “It's not a bad idea, you know.”

“What? He's not old enough to be my dad! It's ridiculous!”

Lily frowned, looking confused for a moment before her face cleared. “Oh..no not that. I meant a joint wedding.”

“What?”

“A joint wedding. It's not a bad idea.”

“I…I don't…” Hermione looked helpless at Draco who shrugged, a small smile on his face. 

“Suits me,” he admitted with a shrug.

Hermione's jaw dropped. “You're not serious.”

“Nope, I’m Sirius,” Sirius piped up, earning an eye roll. 

“It wasn't funny the first time Pads,” she groused. 

“Deadly serious," Draco interjected before Sirius could protest. "Why not? We’ve wanted this for years, Princess. Why the fuck not now?”

“Because we’re hijacking someone else's wedding and it's in less than two months?”

Lily waved her away. “You're hardly hijacking. We’re offering. And it just means lots of the boring stuff is done, unless there's something you specifically wanted.”

Hermione frowned, shaking her head. “Not..not particularly.”

“Then we’re sorted. We need to arrange a dress and some dress robes, but that's easy enough. Shopping tomorrow. No excuses.” She pinned Hermione with a glare before she grinned impishly. It took Hermione's breath away as she saw her best friend's smile replicated on his mother's face. “I can't have my daughter getting married in anything less than something spectacular.”

Hermione looked back at her, utterly betrayed. “Not you too!” Lily laughed. 

“Right, two weddings,” James grinned before he frowned. “Although I can't give you away if I’m getting married too. And Dad’s giving Lily away…”

Hermione rolled her eyes, silently communicating with Draco who gave the smallest of nods. “I think I’d like Severus to give me away,” she said softly, ignoring the way his jaw dropped. 

“I…are you sure?” he rasped.

Swallowing down tears, Hermione turned to him. “There's no one else I’d want.” 

“Then I’d be honoured,” he replied, his eyes suspiciously glassy. He barely flinched as she threw herself at him.

Sirius rolled his eyes, muttering something about bats and hugs before he grinned. “Then you need a best man,” he pointed at Draco. 

“I thought I’d ask Remus,” Draco replied with a shrug.

“What?” Remus gulped. “Surely…”

“Who?” Draco shot back. “I’ve spent more time with you than anyone else here. I understand if you don't want to, but…”

“No! No, I want to…I just…” Remus took a deep breath. “Thanks.”

Draco nodded just as Dorea stuck her head around the door cautiously, as if expecting a fight. “Everything alright?”

“Perfect,” Lily smiled. “Draco and Hermione are getting married too.”

Dorea blinked, taking a moment before she nodded. “Of course they are. I’ll inform the officiant. When are we dress shopping?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Good. I trust that the rest of you can be trusted to organise dress robes?” They all nodded solemnly under Dorea’s gaze. “Wonderful. Charge them to our vault. And Sirius. Nothing ridiculous and no leather.”

Sirius gaped at her for a moment before he capitulated. “Yes, Mum,” he muttered. 

“And Remus…new ones.”

Remus floundered under her gaze. “Yes, Dorea.”

“Wonderful,” Dorea grinned. “I look forward to seeing them,” she announced before leaving them to plan the last-minute details.

“Severus? Can we have a word before you go?”

Severus looked at Hermione suspiciously. “I’m not going to like this am I?”

She smiled slightly. “We need to arrange that meeting with Regulus now. And we need one with Narcissa Malfoy.”

“Why?” he all but wined.

“She has a magical tapestry of her family tree. We have no idea if Draco is on it.”

“Fuck,” he swore. “I haven't heard anything.”

“That's…that's good.” Draco let out a breath he hadn't been aware he’d been holding. “We still need to be sure. Our marriage might show and it could jeopardise everything.”

Severus nodded. “I…Regulus first, I think. You’ll need more than me to get Narcissa onside.”

“We’ll trust your judgement. How soon can you arrange it?”

“How long is dress shopping going to take?” he asked pointedly. 

Hermione sighed. “The Order is meeting tomorrow at eight. What about before dinner? I’ll tell my grandmother and Lily I need to be done by three?”

Severus nodded. “I’ll owl you once I’ve spoken to him.”

“Thanks, Severus,” Hermione sighed. “Everything is alright, isn't it? You've been here a lot. He hasn't noticed?”

“No. As long as I complete the potions he asks of me he leaves me alone. I spoke to him about the job at Hogwarts though. He is all for it. He suggested I approach about joining the Order without me mentioning it. I don't imagine I’ll be allowed this grace indefinitely, but it's alright for the moment.”

Hermione hummed, “Well discuss something you can give him tonight then. I’d rather you had something for him the moment he asks.”

Severus nodded gratefully, feeling the tension he'd been hiding lessen slightly. No one had mentioned his position yet, and he was beyond grateful Hermione intended to ensure he was protected. “Thank you. I…I don't imagine it will be pleasant if he asks and I have nothing.”

“No,” she replied softly. “I don't imagine it would be.”

Chapter Text

“I’m so excited!” Lily beamed as she dragged Hermione from the floo in Diagon Alley.

Hermione gave her a weak grimace, struggling with being around so many people. She’d only managed it once before when Lily had dragged her into the muggle world to shop. That had felt safer than this. “Right. Twilfit and Tattings and Madam May’s, and if all else fails we can pop into Muggle London.”

Taking a deep breath, Hermione nodded. “Right.” Dorea sent her a sympathetic smile, threading her arm through Hermione's. 

“Come along then.” Dorea guided her into Twilfit and Tattings, promptly turning her over to a seamstress. “Do you know what you want?

Hermione sent her a panicked look, shaking her head. “I…nothing fussy.”

Dorea rolled her eyes. “White, ivory, something else entirely?”

“Not white?”

“Long, short, sleeves, none, lace, satin….?”

“I…Gods. I don't know! Short probably. Long will drown me. I…I don't care about sleeves and um…not satin, I don't think.”

“Right well that gives us somewhere to begin,” Dorea nodded.

An hour later, they left the shop more than a little frustrated. “Madam Mays next!” Lily exclaimed, trying to inject some enthusiasm into her voice. Hermione snorted.

“Tell me yours was this frustrating?” she begged.

Lily smiled softly. “No. Three dresses and I knew it was the one,” she admitted. 

“Fucking wonderful,” Hermione groused in return. 

“How may I help you?” a woman's voice called from behind a door. 

“We're looking for a wedding dress,” Lily shouted back.

“Ooh!” a tall, dark-haired woman walked towards them. “For you?”

“No. For her.” Lily indicated towards Hermione. 

“I see." The woman paused, looking over her consideringly. "Short, not long. Long sleeves though. Lace I think. Plunging neckline. Ivory not white. Fuller skirt. Tulle.” Hermione blinked as the woman barked out her list, causing dresses to sort themselves on a rack in the centre of the room. “Try this one,” she commanded, handing over one of the last dresses to end up on the rail.

Not daring to argue with her, Hermione did as she was bid. “Oh,” she heard Lily exclaim softly as she left the changing room. Dorea looked like she wanted to cry. 

“I…How is it?”

“You look beautiful,” Dorea whispered. Turning slowly towards the giant mirror, Hermione had to admit she was right. The cuffed blouson sleeves were sheer with delicate vines and leaves winding their way up her arms and down over the bodice. Her back was bare. The skirt was tea length and tulle. It was fuller than she had originally wanted, but yet she knew that this was her dress. It was such a surreal experience. Looking at herself in the dress she had stopped believing she’d get to wear. 

“Ok,” she said softly.

“This is it?” Dorea asked gently. Hermione nodded. “Veil? Shoes?”

“No veil. I should probably do something about shoes though. Green ones.”

“Green? Not ivory?”

“No. I want green.”

“Might I ask why?”

“Oh. It's one of the colours of House Malfoy.”

“Green shoes it is then. We can charm them, no?” the sales witch looked startled at Dorea’s question before she nodded.

“We can. Simple, 1950s style, point-toed. Green.” She handed Hermione a pair of shoes she’d charmed to dark forest green, indicating she needed to put them on. 

“I…yes. Let's go with these.”

Lily snorted. “Because you couldn't care less about the shoes or because you truly like them?”

Hermione shrugged. “They fit the description I gave.”

“Fine,” Lily sighed, knowing it was pointless to argue. “It's not traditional, but then neither are you.” 

Hermine grinned back at her. “Draco will appreciate them.”

“I think he’ll appreciate that dress more,” Lily replied wryly. “There's no way you're wearing a bra with that neckline. James is going to have kittens.”

“James will be too distracted by you to care what I’m wearing.”

“Your Uncle Sirius will not be!” Lily shot back.

Hermione grimaced. “He is not my Uncle!”

“Tell that to him. I’m relatively certain they’ve planned a hurt my Hermione and we’ll break your legs chat with Draco today.”

“You're not serious? Grandmother, tell me she's not serious!”

Dorea grimaced. “I do not believe in lying. It’ll be fine. Your Draco is more than a match for the boys.”

Hermione groaned. “Fucking wonderful.”

“Let the fun begin.” Severus grinned, opening the door.

“Who on Earth are you?” Regulus demanded his eyes travelling over Hermione before freezing on Draco. “Why do you look like Lucius? Severus what the fuck is going on!”

Hermione winced, moving to give Severus a hug, causing Regulus’ eyes to pop as Severus dropped a kiss onto the crown of her head. “Hello, little Puff.” 

Hermione shoved him, rolling her eyes. “Stop it!” 

“Never,” he grinned. “Now who wants to start?”

“I will,” Draco sighed. “We need a vow. If it helps, Severus has already taken one.” 

“And why would I do that?" Regulus sneered.

“Because you want to hear this one Reg,” Severus sighed. 

“Finally moved on from the mudblood?” He replied caustically, his eyes on Hermione, raking up and down her frame insolently before he frowned. “That's… that's Aunt Casseopias's ring.” 

“Yes,” Draco agreed, making Regulus’ eyes fly back to him. 

“Why the fuck does she have my Aunt Cassie's ring?”

“Because I gave her it.”

“What? She's not with Severus? I…are you a fucking triad?”

“Ew,” Hermione wrinkled her nose before she turned to Severus. “I love you. But no. It's…icky.”

“Icky?” he repeated with amusement. 

“It is! You know it is!”

“So eloquent, little Puff,” he teased. “However, despite it not being my word of choice, I agree wholeheartedly.”

“What the bloody fuck is going on!” Regulus roared. “Who are you? How the fuck did you get my Aunt Cassies ring? And why is Severus…happy?” 

Draco snorted, reaching to pull Hermione down beside him. “A vow?”

“What sort of vow?” he asked suspiciously.

“An unbreakable one.”

“And why in the name of Salazar would I bind myself to you? I have no fucking idea who you are!” Regulus howled.

“He's my godson and she's the closest thing to a little sister I’ll ever have. Now stop being an unmitigated arse and do as they say before I remember I haven't yet hexed you for that slur against Lily,” Severus growled. 

“Fuck this,” Regulus muttered, standing. He twirled on the spot, making Hermione giggle. His eyes widened in horror. “What the fuck!”

“Did we not mention the anti-apparition wards?” Draco asked with an amused lilt.

“Do you intend to kill me?” Regulus asked, his eyes darting around the room in panic. “Merlin, Severus, I thought we were friends!”

“So fucking dramatic,” Severus muttered. “Sit the fuck down, Regulus. No one is going to kill you unless you continue to be a prat, in which case I might consider it.”

Regulus sat looking dumbfounded. “I’m not taking an unbreakable vow. I am the Heir to the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black.”

“And you’ll be the dead Heir of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black before the year is out if you don't,” Draco bit out.

“What?” he gasped.

“Has he asked for Kreacher yet?” Hermione asked suddenly.

“He…how did you know?”

Hermione hummed. “The vow?”

“Fuck,” Regulus swore. “Fucking hell.” He turned to Severus. “You promise this isn't going to get me killed?”

“No,” Severus replied. “I can promise no such thing, but I can promise you that this is your best chance at living.”

“Fuck,” Regulus swore again. 

“I cannot imagine your mother approving of that language,” Hermione mused. 

“My mother doesn't approve of a lot of things,” Regulus muttered before he flushed, realising what he’d said. “What are the terms of the vow?”

Draco shrugged. “You cannot tell anyone not already approved what we’re about to tell you unless we agree beforehand. You cannot actively work against us. You cannot give hints to allow others to.” 

“Fine.” Regulus nodded. “Who am I to be bonded to?”

“That would be me,” Draco replied with a smile. “You're up, Princess.”

Regulus tensed as Hermione led him through the vow, his eyes watching the golden ropes coiling around this wrist as if he couldn't believe he’d agreed.

“Now fucking explain,” he demanded, glaring at them all.

“My name is Hermione Potter and this is Draco Malfoy,” Hermione began softly.

“Malfoy! There is no Draco Malfoy!”

“Not yet,” Hermione agreed. Regulus’ jaw dropped. 

“Pardon?” He barked. 

“What do you know of the Tempus Reset ritual?”

Regulus paled. “Fuck,” he hissed. “Why the fuck would you do that? That's insane! No one does that ritual!”

“Because we had no choice,” Draco answered, reaching for Hermione's hand. “Everyone was dead.”

“Everyone?”

“Yes. The Dark Lord won and it was…more of a fucking nightmare than you could ever imagine. You die this year after he borrows Kreacher to hide a Horcrux. You went…will go…back to the place it's hidden and demand Kreacher destroy it. He can't, by the way. It wasn't destroyed until 1998. We’d quite like to speed up that timeline and hopefully prevent your death.”

 “I…I think I'm going to be sick,” Regulus muttered, bolting from the sofa.

“Is he always this highly strung?” Hermione asked, watching the door Regulus had just left through. 

“Yes,” Severus replied succinctly as they settled down to wait for Regulus to return.

Several hours, several calming draughts, and a dose of veritaserum later, they had managed to convince Regulus they were serious.

“That's all insane,” he muttered. “All of it. What the fuck are we going to do?”

“You are going to let us know when Kreacher returns, order him to obey people of our choosing for this particular task, and we are going to take it from there.” Hermione replied.

Regulus blinked. “I’m not going to be going for the Horcrux?”

“No.”

“You are?”

“No. She is not,” Draco snarled, his face brokering no argument. 

“We haven't quite decided,” Hermione demurred. 

“We fucking have. It's not you. James, Benjy Fenwick, and the Prewett twins are fighting it out.”

“What? When the fuck did that happen?”

“Earlier this week.”

“No! For fucks sake! They're…”

“All fucking adults who know what they’re sighing up for. Severus has a purging potion ready, so the effects of the Draught of Despair won't last. Charlus has been sorting a box to store the locket in. There’ll be a group going in case more magic is needed to prevent whoever goes from touching the inferi-infested water, but we’re hoping elf magic is enough,” Draco spoke over her.

“I don't like it,” Hermione pouted.

“Fucking tough. I warned you, Princess. You do not get to die in this war.”

Regulus was looking at them with barely disguised interest. “You actually love her,” he mused. “It's not just some strange little rebellion against Lucius.”

“You really are an arsehole,” Draco responded. “Of course I fucking love her.”

Regulus shrugged. “It's a valid thought. I don't imagine your upbringing was much different than mine.”

“Probably not,” Draco conceded.

Regulus hummed. “So while you’re all doing good deeds, what do you expect from me?”

“Don't get killed and undo all our good work preventing it in the first place,” Hermione shot back.

Regulus grimaced. “I shall try. Although it's getting harder to pretend I agree with the way he's doing things.”

“It's not for much longer,” Hermione consoled. “Do you want to be introduced to the Order?”

“God no. My brother would never let me live it down.”

“He misses you,” Hermione replied softly.

What?” Regulus barked. 

“He misses you.”

“And you know him that well?” he sneered

“Yes. Did you miss the fact that he was my best friend's godfather? That I knew him before this? He used to tell us stories of the things you two got up to together before Hogwarts. He missed you then. He misses you now.”

“Fuck,” Regtulus hissed. “I…fuck. I want to meet with Sirius before I agree to meet with your Order. I…this Mark on my arm is going to send me to Azkaban when all this is over isn't it?”

“Not if you help us,” Hermione replied stubbornly. “We won't let it.”

Regulus barked out a laugh. “I almost want to see you take on the Wizengamot. I don't imagine they’ll know what's hit them.”

“Probably not. Now. We also need your help with Narcissa.”

“Why?” Regulus asked warily. 

“Because we don't know if Draco has shown up on her tapestry.”

Regulus paled. “If you lift the anti-apparition wards I can answer that.” Hermione frowned before her eyes widened in realisation. 

“Fucking hell. I forgot you had one too.”

“Indeed. Let me out. I’ll be back.”

Ten minutes later a pale Regulus was back. “He's there. I’ve….obscured it for now but it means he's on Cissa's too. Your date of birth fluctuates though, it can't decide between 5th June 1980 and 15th June 1979.”

“The date we arrived,” Draco murmured. “Fucking wonderful.”

“We really do need to speak with her soon. Do you think you can convince her?”

Regulus gave a strangled little laugh. “No. Gods, I have no idea how we’ll convince her.”

“Women trouble?” Draco suggested.

Regulus sighed. “For fucks sake. I’ll think of something that's not fucking that! She'll have me married off to some boringly acceptable mannequin before I can blink.”

Draco shrugged. “Just trying to help…Cousin.”

Regulus blanched as if he hadn't joined the dots to their familial connection. “Right. Tomorrow? I’ll…Gods I have no idea how but she’ll be here. Be ready with the anti-apparition wards….and shield charms. She is not going to be happy.”

Draco nodded. “Fine. I…thank you.”

Regulus nodded. “I should probably be thanking you. And in the spirit of cooperation, there's a hit out on the Pretwett twins. I have no idea what they’ve done but Dolohov is not happy with them. He's been granted permission to take a group to get rid of them later this week.”

Hermione paled. “Thank you for letting us know.” 

“You’ll get them out?”

“We’ll try,” she allowed. 

“Good. See you tomorrow. Severus…you owe me a rather large drink for this.”

Severus snorted. “I brought you information that prevents your certain death. If anyone is owed a drink it is me, arsehole.”

Regulus scowled before disappearing, leaving them all wondering what the next day would bring.

“Are you coming with us to this sodding Order meeting?” Draco asked, as he stood to leave.

Severus sighed. “If I must.”

Chapter Text

“Sirius, can I have a word?” Hermione murmured, grabbing his elbow before he could enter the dining room.

He frowned. “Kitten?”

“Not here. Come with me. It’ll only take a moment.”

“Kitten, you're scaring me.”

She shook her head, “No…look. Don't…don't overreact, ok?" she paused, waiting for him to nod. "Draco and I met Regulus today. He wants to meet you.” Sirius paled so quickly Hermione thought he was going to faint.

“Reggie?”

“Yes. He's agreed to help us, but he won't approach the Order until he's spoken to you.”

Sirius nodded, his face blank. “I ah…right. He actually wants to see me?”

“Yes, he really does. He didn't think you’d want to see him.”

“Of course I do!” he gasped.

“Right, so we can set that up,” she reassured him. “I…we’re meeting Narcissa tomorrow. Not that she knows it. Fancy coming along?”

His jaw dropped as he processed that before a slow grin spread over his face. “Absolutely, Kitten.”

“Padfoot? We need her, if not onside, at least not against us, yeah? So try not to be too much of an arse?”

He hit his chest dramatically, leaving his hand over his heart. “Me, Kitten? An arse? I would never!”

“Pads!” she whined. “Draco’s name is on the tapestry.”

“Fuck, is it really?” Sirius sobered instantly. 

“Yes, Regulus checked for us. We both know that it won't end well if anyone sees it.”

Sirius sighed.
“Best behaviour then. I wouldn't want all the good work we put in threatening him to go to waste.”

“Tell me you did not threaten him, Sirius!”

“Of course we did! It's fine Kitten, he understood.”

“Well, I don't! I’m scarier than you’ll ever be!”

Sirius paused, thinking about it. “True enough,” he grinned. “Come on. Let's get this meeting over with.”

“Ah, you're here,” Dumbledore twinkled. “Let's begin.”

Hermione rolled her eyes but didn't comment as she took a seat between Severus and Draco. 

“We’ve begun planning who’s dealing with the locket,” Benjy spoke. “Myself, James, Gideon, and Fabian are all going to go. We’re just waiting on Regulus.”

“We spoke to him today,” Hermione admitted.

“Was that wise?” Dumbledore questioned

“How else are we meant to know when Kreacher is called?” Hermione replied with a roll of her eyes.

“Well, where is he?” Augusta frowned.

“He's requested a meeting with Sirius first. It’ll happen tomorrow. After that, the plan is to come to us. On that note, he said that Dolohov got Voldemort to agree he could pursue Gideon and Fabian. He's rounding up a group, so be bloody careful. It's how you died last time!”

The twins paled but nodded. “Understood. Do we have a timeframe?”

“Regulus thought sometime this week,” Hermione sighed. "But we have nothing more specific." 

They nodded. “Well, that narrows it down a bit at least.”

“Can you…I don't know…make sure you’re always with other people?”

“You think that’ll stop him?” Gideon asked with an amused smile.

“No, but it’ll even the odds. There were eight of them last time.”

The twins sighed. “Right. We'll...we'll consider it.”

“Back on track,” Albus interjected. “Are we sure this meeting you’re planning is safe?”

“It's as safe as we could make it. Although in the interest of safety, we need information Severus can safely pass on before he's asked.”

Albus frowned. “We can't allow him to pass on anything.”

“So you’ll allow him to die?” Hermione asked scathingly.

“Of course not. We’ll have something by the end of the meeting,” Minerva interjected, glaring at Albus.

“Thank you,” Hermione replied softly. “Now, we apparently have a plan for the locket, even if I don't like it. We need one for the others. Draco and I can come to the school this week and remove the diadem. Can we come up with a plan for the basilisk? I don't really know how it works. It was obviously woken last time, but presumably all we need is a rooster?”

“And a parselmouth,” Draco muttered.

“Nah. Harry talks in his sleep. If Ron can manage to replicate it, surely so can I?” Hermione grinned. 

“I cannot have you just traipsing about the school releasing monsters,” Albus cut in, attempting to sound regretful. What did this girl think she was doing? Making plans without his input and giving orders like she had the right to! It was preposterous. 

“I have no intention of releasing it,” Hermione bit back. “I have every intention of ensuring it's very dead. We’ll need the sword of Gryffindor too, actually.”

“The day after tomorrow,” Minerva replied. “Meet me at the gates.” 

“Grand.” Hermione nodded, ignoring the furious headmaster. “Right, so that's the diadem and the locket planned for. We need a plan for the ring, the cup, and the diary. The Diary is probably in Malfoy Manor, so we’re going to need Regulus for that. The cup….is Bella's vault a Lestrange vault or a Black one?”

Draco froze at the implications of that. “I don't know,” he replied slowly. “Traditionally, it would be a Black vault, but Rodolphus will likely have given her a Lestrange one of her own. Perhaps a…visit to check?”

“I’ll accompany you,” Dorea interjected. “I have access. Perhaps we’re looking for some wedding jewellery for my granddaughter. We’d need to have a look in all the Black vaults to ensure it's perfect.”

Draco grinned. “Wonderful. This week then?”

Dorea nodded. “So that's…four? What's left?”

“The ring,” Hermione sighed. “I’m not entirely sure where it is, but it's apparently one of the worst, so we’ll need to do some research and put together a team.” 

“I’ll help,” Amelia Bones volunteered.

“Me too,” Frank and Alice offered simultaneously. 

“And me. It’ll balance it,” Edgar cut in. 

Hermione sighed, noting Draco's glare as she opened her mouth. “Fine,” she sighed. “Draco and I will start the research then.”

“Good,” Dorea replied succinctly. “Now, what information are we giving Severus?”

“We know that he's recruiting abroad. Perhaps feed him something saying we’re doing the same?” Dorcas suggested. 

“You could also hint something about dissension in the ranks?” Benjy voiced, muttering “It wouldn't be wrong.”

“It is not safe to give Voldemort anything!” Dumbledore insisted. “Any information can be used against us! Or twisted until it puts people in danger because he's taken something from it that was never intended. Even misdirection is dangerous!”

“So you’ll condemn Severus to death?” Hermione asked coldly. 

“It is….not that simple.”

“It is from where I’m sitting. Tell them there's infighting making us less productive. Say that some of us are asking for more proactive attacks and are planning to attempt to capture one of his followers within the next month in the hopes of getting information; however, Dumbledore is against it. Tell him that that fraction is threatening to go rogue. They're looking at Malfoy, Yaxley, Nott, or I don't know, is Evan Rosier still a thing?”

Severus snorted. “Do you mean is he alive? Yes.”

“Right, him. He was prominent according to the stories from our time, or, you know, change it up to people who are likely to know something.”

“Miss Potter, this is dangerous!” Albus shouted.

She turned to look at Dumbledore incredulously. “We’re in the middle of a fucking war. Of course, it's dangerous!”

“We are done for today,” Minerva cut in. “Miss Potter, Mr. Malfoy, I’ll see you in a couple of days. Once we have it we’ll work on a timescale for the other Horcruxes. We can discuss any information you get from young Master Black then.”

“Of course, Professor.” 

At the end of the table, Albus looked furious. No one paid him any attention as they began to gather their things, preparing to leave. He sat for several more minutes, contemplating how to work things in his favour before sweeping dramatically from the room. That girl was going to have to be dealt with, one way or another.

Narcissa gasped as Draco and Hermione entered Severus' house, swiftly followed by Sirius. Her wand was up the moment she spotted him. “What is this?” she hissed, glaring at Regulus who automatically raised a shield charm. 

“Just…just sit down and listen to them, Cissa,” he pleaded.

“Little Puff,” Severus greeted, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “I was not aware you were bringing your pet.”

“Behave!” Hermione scolded, returning to Draco's side. “Let's sit down,” she murmured, guiding him onto the sofa. Draco's eyes never left his mother. “Sirius!” She was aware her voice was sharper than normal, but beside her Draco was close to falling to pieces and his grip on her hand was starting to hurt. “Sirius, sit down!”

“But Kitten, I was…”

“Sirius Orion Black sit your arse down and shut the fuck up.” His head snapped to hers, surprise flitting across his face before his eyes drifted to Draco, and understanding dawned. Without another word, he moved to sit at Draco's other side in a show of silent support. 

“It would appear you’ve actually managed to train him,” Severus mused.

Hermione rolled her eyes, looking at him pointedly. “I’m sure you promised to behave.”

“Did I?” he asked with exaggerated innocence. “I don't quite remember.”

“Will someone tell me what the fuck is going on!” The entire room fell silent as Narcissa Malfoy lost her composure. 

“Gods, Cissa,” Regulus teased. “I had no idea you had it in you.”

Her glare was deadly. “I swear to Merlin Regulus, if you do not provide me with an explanation right this minute I will remind you that I am every bit as much a Black as Bella.”

Regulus paled. “Right…right. Well…the thing is…..the thing is….somebody else feel free to step in at any time….” he muttered. 

Hermione sighed. “My name is Hermione Potter. And we have three options here.”

Narcissa arched a delicate eyebrow taking in the woman she had never seen before. She looked exhausted and slightly battered, but there was no denying the hand Aunt Dorea had clearly had in her dress. “Oh?”

“You take an unbreakable vow now, after we explain, or we obliviate you and find another way to get what we need.”

Narcissa's face was unreadable but Regulus flinched. “Gods, you can't just….blurt that out!” he exclaimed, clearly horrified.

“Gryffindor, remember? We don't do riddles like the snakes. It takes too much time and I don't have the patience for it,” Hermione dismissed, waving her hand carelessly before turning back to Narcissa. “Now, what will it be?”

Narcissa looked her over shrewdly. “Surely you know that I won't agree to an unbreakable vow with someone I don't know?”

“I thought as much,” Hermione admitted. 

“How come I wasn't given three options?” Regulus frowned, as if just realising Narcissa had been presented with more choices.

“You're important. This….this is less so, I suppose.”

“I am less important?” Narcissa asked, a slight hint of amusement on her face.

“Yes. We could do with your help, but if push came to shove, we can work around you.”

“You can?”

“Yes.”

“Then I'd like to go home,” Narcissa requested primly.

“Very well. I’m just going to make you forget you ever saw us,” Hermione agreed, already raising her wand.

“No.”

Hermione snorted. “Oh no, Narcissa. That bit isn't optional even if I have to bind you to do it,” she replied softly. Regulus shivered as it suddenly hit him that this tiny woman was every bit as dangerous as Severus had tried to tell him she was.

“I’ve been learning occlumency since before I could talk,” Narcissa sneered. “I’d like to see you try.”

Hermione arched a brow. “I’m sure you have. However, I’ve been at war since I was twelve. I was taught by the best occlumens in Britain. So believe me, it doesn't matter how long you’ve trained. You won't be leaving here remembering us.”

Narcissa faltered at the tone of utter certainty in her voice. “Who are you?”

“I told you. Hermione Potter.”

“There are no female Potters unless you’ve married James, and I doubt it. He's been set on the mudblood for years.”

Hermione felt her mask slip into place. “Yes, Dad has been in love with Mum since they were eleven.”

Narcissa's face went completely blank. “Dad?”

“Oh yes, didn't I mention? I was born…this year.”

“This year? Do not be absurd.”

“She's not being absurd. Mother.” 

Narcissa went completely still at the sound of Draco's voice. “No!” she whispered. 

“Yes.” he hissed.Hermione flinched at how harsh the sound was. “Don't you think I look like him, Mother? Who the fuck else could I be?”

“Prove it,” Narcissa demanded, her face pale.

“Severus? The veritaserum?” Hermione asked, nodding. Severus reached into his robes and pulled the vial out.

“Care to check it's real?”

“Yes!” Narcissa hissed, “Reggie?”

“Why me?” he whined but moved to sit beside her regardless.

“Because I know more about you than the others,” Narcissa shrugged. Regulus looked mutinous but took the dose. “What did Sirius take the blame for at Violet Selwyn's ball?”

Regulus and Sirius both flinched at the memory that brought back. “I broke a vase. Priceless, I believe. He took the blame.”

Narcissa nodded. “Still got the scars,” Sirius muttered as Regulus took the antidote.

“Little Puff?” Severus checked. 

“Draco I think,” she murmured. “He’ll be able to answer more questions than I will.”

Severus nodded, handing the vial to Draco who took three drops as Narcissa watched him like a hawk.

“What's your name?”

“Draco Lucius Malfoy.”

“Your…your date of birth?”

“Fifth of June nineteen eighty.”

“Your parents?”

“Lucius Abraxas Malfoy and Narcissa Druella Black.”

Narcissa made a small noise at the back of her throat, her face pale as she looked at him in horror. “Why are you here?” she whispered.

“The war killed everyone.”

“Antidote I think,” Hermione cut in. “We’ll explain but not under veritaserum, there are things we can't share or we’ll all be dead.”

Narcissa looked like she wanted to object until Sirius cut in. “Severus can confirm what we’re saying. He's known longer than Regulus, but Kitten’s right, this is…far bigger than you’ll ever believe.”

“Kitten?” Narcissa frowned, looking like she was desperately attempting to regain her equilibrium. "Really?”

Hermione shrugged. “I’ve given up. Some battles aren't worth fighting.”

Narcissa hummed before she froze….”That's…that's Aunt Cassie's ring.”

“Oh. Yes. Yes, it is,” Hermione agreed, as Draco watched his mother warily. Her eyes flew to his. 

“A Potter ?”

He snorted. “Yes.” 

“Are you sure…we could…”

“Stop!" He commanded. "I’m sure. We’re getting married shortly, actually.”

“You are?”

“Yes, a joint wedding with Hermione's parents. Which brings us nicely to why we needed to contact you. I'm sure you’ve realised how precarious the position we’re in is. However, Regulus informed us that my name is on the tapestry at Grimmauld. I know Grandfather Black gave you one when you married Father. I need you to obscure my name.”

Narcissa blinked. “Yes, that would cause problems wouldn't it,” she mused quietly.

“More than you know Mother.”

“Explain it to me then,” she demanded. 

Draco sighed, running one hand over his face as he gripped Hermione tighter with the other, “Everyone was dead. Bella murdered you. Father let her. There was…war, for years. He was living in our house, torturing us as he saw fit. He took Father's wand and gave me an impossible task meant to kill me as punishment for Father's failures. You…helped us escape the manor after Hermione was tortured by Aunt Bella, but you paid for it with your life. We fought but….eventually, we did the Tempus reset ritual.” Narcissa blanched. “We had no choice. We were about the only ones left. I could probably have gone back, but the Gods alone know what he would have done to me. Hermione would have been murdered, but only after he had made her suffer. Even if I hadn't loved her, it was not a life I could ever have wanted.”

“Good gods,” Narcissa muttered. “So you intend to do what…fix it?”

“Yes,” Hermione answered. “I won't live through that again. I can hear my friends, my family, screaming every time I close my eyes. None of them were allowed to live. Do you understand that? I saw the people I loved murdered in violent and horrific ways because that insane bastard has no humanity left. He doesn't give a fuck, Narcissa, what side you're on. He tortured indiscriminately. He might have used the other side as examples, but let's not pretend he didn't rule his own with fear and violence.”

“It was that bad?” Narcissa whispered.

“Yes,” Draco replied bluntly. ”Can you help us or not?”

“Yes. Yes, I’ll help. But I…” Narcissa let out a long breath. “Do I get to ask to get to know you?”

Draco’s eyebrows rose. “I didn't think you'd want to.”

“You're my son!” she hissed.

“Not in this timeline,” he muttered. 

“What do you mean?”

“The ritual…it embeds us in this timeline. I have no idea what the child you’ll have will be, but he won't be me, or at least I don't think he will.”

“No, they’ll be them," Narcissa agreed. "But you…you’re still my son.”

“Mother, how old are you?” Draco sighed exasperatedly.

“Twenty-four.”

He hummed. “I’m eighteen. I don't…you're my mother and we…for the most part we had a good relationship. I love you. But your prejudice almost got Hermione killed. You would have let her be murdered on our drawing room floor, even knowing what she was to me, if I hadn't intervened. So as much as I love you, or I love the woman who brought me up, I hate you too. I was marked at sixteen because of you and Father. I was forced into horrendous situations. I was tortured in my own home. Hermione was hunted, she almost died more than once because grown-ass adults, Father being one of them, were fighting fucking school children. I don't think I know how to have a relationship with you now.”

She flinched. “Will you at least try?” she asked softly. “I...I haven't done any of those things. I..don't want whatever child I end up having to feel as you do. I will not make the same mistakes twice. I know I won't be your Mother but perhaps…an older sister.”

He sighed. “You have to try,” Hermione murmured. “You’ll hate yourself if you don't.”

“Very well,” he agreed.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I’ll go and deal with the tapestry. Will you…will you meet me for tea soon?”

“And who are you going to say I am?”

She floundered. “I don't know,” she admitted. “I’ll work something out.” She stood to go.

“The vow,” Hermione reminded her.

“Bind her to me,” Draco commanded, standing to take his mother's arm. He slumped once she was gone, ignoring the mounting tension between Sirius and Regulus.

“Will one of you say something!” Hermione commanded, wrapping her arms around Draco's middle in silent support. He adjusted her so she was on his lap, pulling her close as he buried his face in her neck.

“Reggie,” Sirius started.

“Sirius.”

“For fucks sake,” Hermione muttered as she idly stroked her hand through Draco's hair. 

“It's uncomfortable, Kitten,” Sirius whined. 

She arched a brow. “You’re sorry, he's sorry, and we’ll leave you to it. Give him the details of the next meeting. Severus, are you coming?”

“Gods yes,” he muttered before turning to look at the Black brothers. “Do not break anything!”

Hermione stood, hauling Draco to his feet. “Let's go home.”

Dazed, he nodded as he stumbled his way to the floo. Hermione shot Severus a look as they exited. Nodding, he disappeared off in search of someone else to speak to as Hermione guided Draco down onto a sofa.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I’m not sure what to say,” he murmured. “That…that was my mother. Alive and…young…and whole.”

“I know.”

“I want to hate her,” he whispered. “I think I do hate her.”

“But you also don't.”

He shook his head. “But I also don't,” he agreed. “Is it wrong to get to know her now?”

“Of course, it isn't!”

“How are we going to explain it to Father? She’ll be watched.”

Hermione shrugged. “Polyjuice? We could make you look like Regulus.”

“That…that could work," he agreed slowly. "I’ll owl her in a day or two. Do you think there's a stash somewhere?”

She snorted. “I’ll eat my wand if Severus doesn't have some stashed somewhere.”

“Fair point. It…it feels like things are coming together doesn't it?” he asked hopefully, silently begging her to agree.

She hummed. “I hope so. We’ve waited long enough.”

“Are you ok with not being as involved?”

“I… No, not really. It makes me feel out of control and I don't like it,” she admitted. “It was us for so long, just us, expected to figure it out, pull a last-minute miracle out of somewhere, and now… I don't actually think I’m doing anything but research and storytelling.”

He hummed. “But you're safe.”

“But no one else is. I understand Sirius's desperation to be involved now. I was so angry with him before, refusing to stay behind for the fight at the Ministry. I think…I think I probably owe him an apology to be honest because I can't say that I’d do anything differently now that I have the tiniest understanding of how it feels.”

Draco snorted. “No unapproved rescue missions, Princess. None. Promise me.”

She sighed. “I promise. I still don't like it though.” 

“I know,” he murmured. “I know.”

“Are you going to be ok?” she checked again. 

He took a deep breath looking at his knees. “I don't know,” he replied finally, allowing her to manoeuvre him until his head was resting on her chest, her arms tight bands around him, anchoring him to this reality as he grieved for the mother he’d had, and the one he wished she’d been.

Chapter Text

Regulus crept into the meeting with Sirius in front of him. He was more than nervous as he scanned the room, spotting Severus sitting with Draco and Hermione, locked in a discussion about who knew what. Beside them, James and Lily were occasionally adding in their own opinion until Hermione turned and glared at James with such venom that he visibly shut his mouth. 

He recognised various people from school, teachers and students alike, and at one end a cowed-looking Dumbledore was sitting next to a man that had terrified him for years, Alastor Moody. He wanted to be anywhere other than here if he was honest, but he wasn't stupid. This was his only ticket out and he had to hold on to it with both hands, even if he desperately wanted to let go and run.

“Let's go and sit down,” Sirius murmured low enough that only he could hear him. “You can sit next to Snape or Draco if you’ll feel better.”

Silently he nodded, heading for the seat next to Severus. “Welcome to the insanity,” Severus muttered.

“That's not comforting.” 

“Oh?" Severus smirked. "I wasn't aware I was trying to be.”

“Right,” Minerva called. “As you can see Regulus Black has joined us.” There were general murmurings. “Have you spoken to him about our request?”

Hermione shook her head. “Not yet.”

“Well, now is as good a time as any," Minerva declared. "Mr. Black, we require your help. Inside Malfoy Manor is a diary we need. I imagine the protections will be vast.”

Regulus nodded slowly. “I see.”

“You are the only one with access.”

He exhaled loudly. “And is someone catching me with it going to get me murdered?”

“Yes,” Hermione replied bluntly. “It's black, with Tom Marvolo Riddle written on the cover. For the love of fucking Merlin, do not write in it. It will be blank.”

He frowned. “It's a Horcrux isn't it?”

“Yes. So can you help?”

“Yes,” he muttered. “But if I die, I’m coming back to haunt you.”

Hermione inclined her head as if thinking about it, “That seems fair, all things considered.”

He snorted despite himself. “You're fucking insane, you know that? Cousin, are you sure you want to marry her?”

Draco grinned. “Absolutely.”

“Right. Well, moving on," Minerva interrupted with a small twitch of her lips. "Has he given any indication of when he wishes Kreacher?”

Regulus shook his head. “Not yet.”

“Very well,” Minerva sighed. “Hermione, do you have the portkey?”

“Oh! Yes, here.” She thrust a button at Regulus. “Use it if you’re desperate. It’ll take you here. No one can latch on, but it sort of goes without saying that it's really only for emergency use. It cuts through anti-portkey wards too.”

“I..how in the name of Circe!” Regulus stared back at her dumbfounded.

“We’re very smart,” Hermione retorted cheekily. “And at one point we very desperately needed them.”

“Sweet Salazar,” he breathed.

“Now. On to the report. Mr. Snape, have you been questioned yet?”

“No. I'm not due to meet with him until next week. He wants potions and is expecting an update.”

“Do you have one to give him?”

“Unfortunately,” he muttered. “What he wants is technically possible, but some of the ingredients are….not quite so easy to get.”

Minerva sighed. “Am I to assume him getting a hold of this potion would be a terrible idea?”

Severus snorted. “Yes.” 

“Wonderful. Stall him if you can but don't risk your life or your safety, am I clear?”

“Yes,” he sighed. 

“Now, are we any further forward with anything else?”

“Not really. We’re still trailing a few, but no ones up to much just yet,” Dorcas admitted. “Nothing new appears to be being planned, although Benjy heard something about a Ministry takeover.”

“He's not considering it yet,” Regulus muttered. “Not enough people on the inside.”

“He's aiming to manoeuvre them there?” Charlus asked.

“Yes. He was working on it the last I heard.”

Minerva nodded. “If you get specific names, do let us know.”

“Of course. He was throwing out several. He can't seem to decide between having someone well known like Lucius, Thoros, and Corban strategically placed or using unknowns and therefore people we wouldn't necessarily suspect.”

Minerva let out a sigh. “Let's hope he goes for conspicuous. It’ll be easier for us. Well, if no one has anything more, I’ll let you go. Remember the word to call an emergency meeting is Tabby. If you can't cast a Patronus come and speak to me and I’ll arrange lessons.”

Regulus blinked. “You can all cast a Patronus?”

“Most of us,” Sirius agreed. 

“Will you…will you teach me?”

“Of course. We can make them talk too,” Sirius grinned. 

“Offering lessons Sirius?” Benjy called. “I can't bloody get it.”

“Me either,” Marlene agreed.

“What? No, not all of you!”

“We’ll help,” Hermione cut in. “We’re not doing much else.”

“What's yours, Kitten?” Hermione cast. “Is that…a lioness?”

“Yup. It used to be an otter. I sort of miss it.”

“That's way more impressive than an otter!” Sirius breathed. “What's yours?”

“A bloody lion,” Draco groused. “Utterly ridiculous.”

“Awww, it just means you love me,” Hermione cooed as he pulled a face of distaste.

Sirius snorted. “Right. So, Reggie, Marls, Benjy. Anyone else?”

Everyone else present shook their heads. “Tomorrow then? Pick some happy memories.”

Hermione and Draco walked up to the school in silence, neither of them sure what was waiting for them. “Mr. Malfoy, Miss Potter, come in.” Minerva greeted them at the door looking sombre. “I’ve had Hagrid acquire you a rooster. Professor Flitwick, Professor Sinistra, and I will accompany you into the Chamber. But first, I assume you wish to acquire the diadem?”

“Yes, Professor. We’ll need to head to the seventh floor.” 

If McGonagall was confused, she didn't show it. “Very well, do you want assistance?” 

“Perhaps it would be best,” Hermione sighed. “More eyes and all, in case it's not where I think it is.”

“Very well,” Minerva agreed, following her to the requisite corridor. Once there, she watched as Hermione walked in front of a section of wall silently wondering what on earth she was doing. She jumped when a door appeared. “Good Godric! You’ll explain how it works before you leave?”

“Of course, Professor. Let's get this over with first.”

Gingerly they opened the door. Hermione's heart rate accelerated as she attempted to block out Vincent Crabbe's screams from the last time she'd been there. Beside her, Draco was also pale, desperately occluding so they could get through this. He felt Hermione's hand slip into his, holding on tightly. 

“It won't happen this time,” she murmured. 

Draco gulped but nodded. “Let's find the damn thing and get out of here.”

“We’re looking for a bust of an old warlock and a vanishing cabinet. I think it's up this way.”

“This is…” Minerva trailed off, looking around her at the towering piles of things. 

“The room of hidden things,” Hermione supplied. “I’m sure there are some rare books in here. Maybe see if the elves can sort it out at some point?”

“They'd be delighted,” Minerva replied dryly. 

Slowly, they picked their way through the mountains of forgotten belongings. Draco paused at the vanishing cabinet before incinerating it. Minerva arched a brow, but didn't comment. Finally, they heard Hermione's voice call, “Over here!”

“Gods it's beautiful,” Minerva breathed, her eyes on the diadem.

“Yes,” Hermione murmured. “Shame he desecrated it.”

“There's no saving it?”

“None. It needs to be totally destroyed.” Minerva hummed, looking regretful. 

“How do we get it down?” Draco asked quietly. 

“We climb,” Hermione sighed. “It can't be summoned, so we’ll need to go to it.”

“Of fucking course we do,” he muttered. “I’ll go.”

Hermione shook her head. “No. I’m lighter and less likely to topple things. Just….maybe have your wands handy for a levitation charm when I inevitably slip.”

Draco snorted. “At least you're realistic. Although….weren't there brooms in here?”

Hermione froze. “Yes!” she breathed. “Yes, there bloody was. Try and summon one and cross your fingers that someone didn't stash them between now and our time.”

“Accio broom,” Draco said succinctly. There was a beat of several seconds where nothing happened before the sounds of junk shifting caught their attention. A broomstick flew out of a hole in one of  the piles and into Draco's outstretched hand. “It's a Comet one sixty. Gods these were worth thousands in our time!” he grinned. 

“Fabulous. We’ll keep it for the next twenty years and then sell it, but for right now we need it to actually work.”

“Want to do it, Princess?”

“You know perfectly well that I do not,” Hermione responded primly as Draco laughed at her.

“Not a flyer, Miss Potter?” Minerva enquired. 

“No. It's…not normal! I much prefer my feet on the ground.”

Kicking off, Draco grinned. “Gods this is amazing! Not quite as responsive as the Nimbus, but it's not far off, and given that it's ancient, that's pretty impressive.”

“We’re not here for a broom review Draco. Get the corrupted tiara so we can leave!”

“Yes Boss!” he saluted, making her sigh before edging closer to the diadem. Hermione and Minerva watched, holding their breath as he reached for it. Neither of them exhaled until he was on the ground again. 

“Well that was anticlimactic,” Minerva muttered.

Hermione snorted. “Wait til we try to kill it. It’ll be dramatic enough then. Can we hope the basilisk is similarly drama free?”

“We can hope,” Draco muttered. “Is there a plan?”

“Hope my parseltongue is up to scratch and wing it?” Hermione ventured.

“Seriously, Princess?”

She shrugged. “It's not like any of our plans have ever worked, now is it? Winging it was what we always ended up doing, so I figured we could just cut out the middle bit.”

He shook his head, smiling ruefully. “Fair enough. Let's go and wing a basilisk murder and pretend that that statement isn't fucking insane.”

“I’ll collect the others,” Minerva agreed, stepping out of the room, pausing to watch with interest as the door shrank and disappeared.

“You walk three times in front of that wall thinking about what you want,” Hermione supplied in response to Minerva’s unasked question.

“It's that simple?”

“It's that simple,” Hermione nodded. 

Hermione and Draco booth took a deep breath as they walked into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. “Are we sure this is correct?” Filius asked with a frown. Beside him, Aurora clutched her rooster tighter. 

“Definitely correct,” Hermine muttered, peering at the sinks as she searched for the snake. “Ah! Gods, please let this work.” She let out a string of nonsense hissing that sounded vaguely right and waited. Nothing happened. “God damn it!” she muttered before trying again. Slowly, the old mechanisms screeched as a hole formed and the sinks moved out of the way. 

“Well done Miss Potter,” Minerva muttered. “It's…well it's not what I was expecting.”

Hermione hummed. “I can't imagine why. Lovely spot for a secret chamber housing a monster, don't you think?”

“How do we get down?” Professor Sinistra voiced hesitantly. 

“Oh. We jump,” Hermione grinned. 

“And how do we get back up?” she squeaked. 

“Elf or broomstick.”

“And do we have broomsticks?”

“I do. Maybe we should acquire a few more, actually.”

Minerva rolled her eyes. “This is why…what phrase did you use? Winging it is not the best idea. Cally!”

“Yous bes wanting Cally?” the elf asked as she popped into existence beside them.

“Yes. Could you get…four brooms from the broom shed please.”

“Three! I’m not riding on my own,” Hermione cut in quickly, ignoring the slightly startled looks of her former professors. Draco snorted but was wise enough not to comment as they waited for the elf to reappear.

“Everyone take one,” Minerva instructed once Cally had handed the brooms over. “And then, I suppose we’ll jump.”

“I’ll go first,” Draco announced, heading towards the ledge, peering down at the seemingly endless tunnel. “Couldn't we fly down?”

Hermione paused. “Probably, actually.”

He huffed. “Get on. Princess.” Gingerly, she complied, clinging to him tightly as she buried her face in his back. She didn't move until she felt his feet touch the ground. She heard the Professors land beside them, the rooster giving a disgruntled squawk as it was jostled. 

“Where to now?” Minerva asked brusquely, looking around the chamber with an expression of distaste. 

“This way,” Hermione murmured. “I don't know for sure where it is, in our time it was roaming the pipes, but perhaps starting in the inner chamber is our best bet.”

Minerva nodded as she followed Hermione and Draco towards the door decorated with snakes. Filius and Aurora walked behind them silently. 

Steeling herself, she hissed in an approximation of Harry’s parseltongue commands. None of them moved as the snakes rearranged themselves and the door swung open, revealing a walkway flanked with snake sculptures and the imposing stone rendition of Salazar himself.

“Well…no one could accuse him of being modest,” Minerva muttered. 

Filius snorted, but stifled it quickly as the sound reverberated around the chamber. “Now, where would you hide your giant, murderous pet snake,” Hermione mused, her eyes darting around the chamber.

“Potter said it came out his mouth,” Draco reminded her, grimacing. “It was a horrifying thought before…but now..”

“Yeah… let's not dwell on that, thank you,” Hermione shuddered. “Apparently Salazar was in dire need of a Mind Healer.”

Draco grinned. “Fancy a fly, Princess?” He waved his broom at her for emphasis. 

“What? Why?”

“Let's go look in the crazy man's eyes and see if we can find his pet.”

“Oh….” Hermione huffed, clearly arguing with herself. “Fine. Fine, we…we can do that.”

Draco arched a brow, but waited until she had gotten a hold of herself before levelling the broom. “Hop on then.”

“You're enjoying this,” she muttered.

“You riding my broomstick, Princess? Always.” He grinned, dodging out of the way of her hand only to be clipped on the back of the head by Minerva who was doing a better job of hiding her amusement than her colleagues.

“That's quite enough of that, Mr. Malfoy,” she commanded brusquely. 

“Sorry Professor,” he muttered, sitting down on the broom, holding it steady for Hermione. “We’ll be back in a moment.” Hermione almost laughed at how chastened he looked as she climbed on in front of him, feeling him wrap an arm around her waist to pull her back. “Hold on tight, Princess,” he murmured into her ear as he jerked the handle of the broom up and headed towards Salazar's face.

Gingerly Hermione climbed off and into an eye socket, trying not to think how utterly bizarre that sounded in her head. Creeping forward carefully, she cast a Lumos, angling her wand through the pupil of the statue in an attempt to see. Gleaming scales reflected the light back at her and she drew in a sharp breath. She knew it couldn't touch her but the lingering fear was still present. An aching sadness for Harry hit her as she took in the giant coils of the snake. They hadn't really had time during the final battle to appreciate its size, but she vividly remembered the short, scrawny, twelve-year-old Harry had been. It was miraculous that he had survived. 

“Princess?” Draco called softly, startling her out of her thoughts.

“It's in here,” she called back.

“Is there enough room for the rooster?”

“Surely we can just hold it up to the hole?”

Draco nodded. “Probably,” he agreed. “How are we going to make it crow?”

Hermione froze, realising she hadn't considered that as she edged her way back to him. “I don't know. Let's hope one of the Professors has an idea.”

He nodded, silently guiding her back onto the broomstick and taking them back down to the floor of the chamber.

“Well?” Minerva asked.

“It’s in there. There are holes for the pupils though, so the rooster can be held there and the noise should reach it. Has ah…anyone got a plan for making it crow?”

Minerva tisked. “Of course we do Miss Potter. Filius is going to cast a Lumos Solem.”

“Ah.” Hermione nodded slowly. “That's…rather clever.”

Minerva arched a brow. “I have no idea how you survived to reach us given your lack of foresight, Miss Potter.”

Hermione shrugged. “To be fair, Professor, we did make plans…they just didn't often work and we ended up having to wing it surrounded by chaos. You sort of get used to it.”

Minerva closed her eyes as if praying for patience. “I’m very glad you have the help of the entire Order this time,” she muttered. 

“Me too,” Hermione murmured back, leaning into Draco as she contemplated how differently things might have gone if they’d had it in their time.

“How are we getting the venom?” Draco asked suddenly. “None of us can reach it.”

All of them froze. “That is a problem, Mr. Malfoy,” Minerva muttered. “Was there space for a person to fit through the eye?”

“No,” Draco replied slowly. “How attached to Salazar's face are you?”

“It's a historic artefact!” Aurora replied scandalised as she realised what he was thinking.

Hermione snorted. “Please Professor, if you have any other ideas, we’re all ears.”

The woman whimpered but remained silent. “Is it possible there's a trigger to open the mouth?” Filius asked quietly.

“Yes,” Draco sighed. “Will we kill the giant snake and then look? If we can't find it though, Salazar is just going to have to accept the loss of an eye.”

“Very well,” Filius murmured. “Aurora, can you take the rooster up? I’ll cast the charm.”

“How do we know it's dead?” Hermione asked quietly.

“I can cast a healer's charm that monitors vital statistics,” Aurora replied. “It’ll tell us whether the rooster worked.”

Hermione nodded. “Ok,” she murmured, watching as the Professor flew up to Salazar's eye and cast a charm she was unfamiliar with. A small rectangle pulsed with information she was too far away to see. 

“In place!” Aurora called, as Draco wrapped an arm around Hermione from behind.

“Lumos Solem!” Flitwick called, guiding the light towards the rooster who appeared to blink in confusion for a moment before it crowed. The resulting high-pitched scream of the healer's charm made all of them wince. “I think it worked,” Filius muttered wryly.

“Now, let's spread out and see if we can find a way in,” Minerva commanded, as Aurora and what appeared to be a stunned rooster reappeared. 

“He was getting agitated,” Aurora offered by way of an explanation.

Draco snorted, but tugged Hermione towards Salazar’s face, carefully eyeing the floor in case anything was obvious as she began circling the statue, running her hands over the stone as she slowly climbed up the depiction of his beard.

“There's something here!” McGonagall called from the other side of the head several minutes later. Cautiously, they made their way back down to find the witch standing on his moustache, eyeing his right nostril with interest.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Draco muttered as Hermione stifled a laugh. “Get on the broom, Princess. I’m not climbing up the other side of Salazar's beard. I can't quite believe I climbed the first side.”

Laughing properly now, Hermione did as she was told, allowing him to take the broom up to hover near Minerva. Aurora and Filius were close behind them. “There's a sort of indent,” Minerva muttered. “I….well it could be anything, but why hide it here?”

“Seems a bit strange,” Hermione agreed. “Then again, word has it he was a strange man so….”

Minerva snorted. “Indeed, Miss Potter.”

“We’re going to push the indent aren't we?” Draco sighed.

“Yes,” Minerva and Hermione agreed simultaneously.

“Bloody Gryffindors,” Draco muttered, earning a smirk from Flitwick.

“If someone could catch me if this goes horribly wrong, I’d be most grateful,” Minerva announced before she touched her wand to the indent and pushed. There was a grinding of stone as Salazar's mouth opened. “Well,” she grinned, “That solves that.”

“Dragonhide gloves, everyone,” Filus called. “And for the love of Merlin, don't touch its eyes. They were closed, Miss Potter?”

“Oh…I…yes. Yes, they were.”

“You're sure?”

“Reasonably?” she hedged.

“For the love of Circe,” Draco muttered, raising his wand. “With your permission?” 

Hermione nodded, feeling the familiar invasion as he cast a silent legilimens and entered her mind. She shoved the memory forward. “They were closed,” he announced.

“Good. Don't touch them.” Filius nodded. “We’ll need to render it down. Merlin only knows what could be done with the scales and flesh, but for today fangs only. We can cast a stasis charm on it for when this is over. Miss Potter, you’ll help us return?”

“Yes,” She agreed slowly. “On the condition that Severus gets some parts to play with. He…he really is a genius with potions. I can only imagine what he could do with a previously undiscovered ingredient.”

Filius nodded. “Very well. I can't see the harm. Now, shall we get those fangs and get out? The damp is starting to become bothersome.”

Half an hour later they stood in Minerva's office, triumphantly holding a reinforced bag of basilisk fangs and several vials of venom. “Charlus has agreed to store these for us,” Minerva informed them, handing the bag over. “Take it and the diadem straight to him. We do not want them getting into the wrong hands. I’ve opened my floo for you to use. And Miss Potter, Mr. Malfoy….” she paused, waiting until they were looking at her. “Well done. We…we will never be able to repay what you’ve done, but thanks to you, the end is in sight. This is the first step.”

Hermione swallowed audibly but nodded, her throat feeling too constricted to answer. Minerva was right. This was the first step towards the end. For the first time since Harry's death, she allowed herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, they could actually do this. Beside her, Draco kept a tight grip on her as he led her towards the floo, wrapping his arms around her tightly, the bag and Horcrux box squashed between them as he called out their destination.

Chapter Text

“Right. Ah…” Sirius looked around the room at the strange assortment of people and rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. “I don't really know how to do this,” he confessed quietly. “So ah… how does Hermione put it? We’re winging it.”

Hermione chose that moment to appear. “Sorry. We got caught up in research. Do carry on.”

Sirius snorted. “I was just explaining how I was going to wing it. Perhaps you have some insight?”

She rolled her eyes. “You need a happy memory. A really, really happy memory, and you have to focus on it. It… gets easier over time. I can cast now without a memory, but it took a lot to get there. Once you can cast the Patronus, we can teach you how to use it to send messages. Severus!”

Severus flushed as she caught him sidling into the room. “I can cast it, but I can't make it talk,” he muttered. In a valiant show of self-restraint to honour their new truce, Sirius merely hummed.

“Right. Can anybody else cast it and just need to learn the message part?” Morag McKinnon and Dorcas Meddowes raised their hands. “Go and sit with Snape then,” Sirius commanded. “Kitten, do you want that or the actual charm?”

“I’ll do messages,” she replied quickly.

“Of bloody course,” Sirius muttered.

The lesson started strangely. All of them stopped to watch Hermione stare at Severus for an uncomfortably long time upon seeing the snake that erupted from his wand. The fact that Severus looked equally as surprised only made it more interesting. 

“It's a bloody boomslang,” Severus muttered as Hermione's eyes only got wider.

“Not… not what you were expecting?” Marlene hedged as both of them snapped out of whatever was going on inside their heads. 

“No,” Severus admitted softly. “I think I like this one better.”

Still looking shocked, Hermione snorted. “A deadly snake? Could you have picked something more cliched?”

He shrugged. “A bat?”

Breaking the tension, Hermione laughed. “Point to you,” she agreed wryly.

Half an hour later, Morag, Dorcas, and Severus had been dismissed. All of them were able to send their messages with ease, leaving Hermione and Sirius to work with Benjy, Regulus, and Marlene. It took them over two hours to finally get a corporeal form. Benjy's tiny hummingbird fluttered around Marlene's sheep. Despite mastering the charm, Marlene had not been impressed. Regulus had been even less impressed with his donkey. 

“I think we’re good,” Hermione voiced with a sigh, listening to Benjy's hummingbird inform her that her hair looked like a good place to nest. “You’ve got the messenger part down, even if I dislike your messages.” She shot Benjy a look making him grin. “And I… I have to research.”

“How's it going?” Marlene asked hesitantly, all of them ignoring Regulus sulking in the corner.

“Slowly.” Hermione winced. “It's… I have some information that narrows things down, but not enough. We’re working on it, but it's taking longer than I’d like. The South East is a rather big area to trawl through records for.”

Marlene winced. “If you need a hand….”

“Actually, if you really mean that I wouldn't say no, even if it's not today. There really are a ridiculous amount of records. Everyone in the house has been helping, but another set of eyes isn't going to hurt.”

Marlene nodded. “I have a mission tonight but tomorrow afternoon?”

“Thank you.” Hermione nodded. She looked exhausted at the very thought of going back to her research. Sirius knew it was driving her insane that it was taking as long as it was.

“Come on then, Kitten. Let's go and see if anyone's found anything while we’ve been playing with the pretty animals.”

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. “Is it really wrong to hope they did so I never have to look at another Parish record as long as I live?”

Laughing, Sirius pushed her out the door. 

Hermione's head jerked up at the sound of a heavy thud. Beside her Sirius and James both tensed. They’d finally stopped pouring over old records when Dorea had fallen asleep at the table. Draco had gone to bed, leaving Hermione watching Sirius and James play chess. “Wands up,” James murmured, standing slowly, casting silencing charms on their shoes. Hermione disillusioned them all as Sirius slowly opened the door. They crept down the stairs, heading for the entrance hall.

“Oh my god,” Hermione whispered as she registered two bodies lying bleeding on the floor. Throwing caution to the wind, she ran towards them. 

The Prewet twins looked back at her glassily as she began throwing healing charms at them, stemming the flow of blood from wounds she could see, but not brave enough to move them. “Get someone here, now!” she screamed at James and Sirius where they had frozen on the stairs. As if summoned, Draco appeared behind them, shoving past them to help. 

“Get Madam Pomfrey!” he snarled, as he passed, startling them out of their stupor.

“Right… I… Right,” James muttered, running for the floo. 

“What… What can I do?” Sirius asked helplessly.

“Talk to them,” Hermione commanded, still casting as Draco sliced through their robes so they could see their injuries. “Or find me dittany.”

“I have dittany, Miss Potter,” Madam Pomphrey announced, running through the floo. “Oh, my!”

“I’ve sealed what I can, but we didn't move them.” The mediwich nodded, running her wand down the front of Gideon and then Fabian, leaving the results hanging above them.

“You’ve done well. Perhaps you’ll consider a Healing apprenticeship when this is over. Now, blood replenishers, then we’ll stabilise and turn. You’ll help?”

Hermione nodded, taking the potions from Draco and attempting to coax the twins into swallowing them.

“You know the stabilisation charm?” Madam Pomfrey checked.

Hermione sighed. “Yes. I’ve used it more than once. I’ll do Gideon?”

“Very well. Mr. Malfoy, move back from Mr. Prewet until I’ve got him in the air.”

Sirius and James watched in macabre fascination as Hermione and Madam Pomphrey cast in a pattern they didn't recognise before carefully levitating the twins off the floor so they could rotate them. Draco vanished the blood under them and cast cushioning chams before the witches lowered them back down.

“Right. Let's get these clothes off and see what we’re dealing with here,” Madam Pomphrey commanded, gently pulling the robes off Fabian's back as Draco did the same for Gideon. All of them drew in a sharp breath at the mess the twins’ backs were in. They looked like they’d been flogged.

“How did they not shred their clothes,” Sirius asked, sounding repulsed.

“Spell of Dolohov's creation,” Draco muttered as the witches slowly began repairing torn muscle, ligaments, and tendons before knitting the skin together and applying dittany. None of them realised how long it took until an utterly exhausted Hermione looked up and caught the horrified faces of several Order members.

“More blood replenishers and a pain potion. They're in for a tough recovery.” Madam Pomphrey sighed, moving to allow Draco to administer the potions.

“They’re alive though, “ Dorea murmured. “This time they're alive.”

The mediwitch hummed. “Bed, Miss Potter, and take it easy tomorrow… that was… you did well.” 

Hermione nodded, looking dead on her feet. “Where did you learn that?” James asked quietly.

She sighed. “I began shadowing Madam Pomprey in fifth year after He returned. I learned some in books and later, in shell cottage, Fleur taught me a bit. We… we had to be able to heal ourselves,” she finished quietly.

“Right,” Dorea commanded, sounding suspiciously choked. “You heard Poppy, off to bed with you. We’ll put the twins in one of the guest rooms. You can look in on them after lunch. I don't wish to see you before that, am I clear?”

“Yes, Grandmother.” Hermione yawned as she allowed Draco to escort her up the stairs.

“Are you alright, Princess?” Draco murmured, his eyes watching Hermione closely.

“I… we… we changed things,” she stuttered finally, looking up at him with wide eyes. “I… I don't think it sunk in before with the basilisk, but… tonight… tonight we saved the Prewett twins. They should actually live, and Gods, Draco, how much does that change?”

He smiled slightly. “I have no idea,” he admitted. “But Princess, they’re not the first people we saved. Severus joined us months before he was supposed to. Regulus isn't going to die in a cave. My mother has an escape route if she needs it.”

“I never thought about it like that,” she admitted. “Not as a whole.”

He snorted. “You are spectacularly dim for someone so intelligent, Princess.”

She scowled. “I’m too tired to hit you.” 

“Thank Merlin for that,” he grinned. “Now into bed with you. You missed your last Healer check-up and I imagine you have no urge for the witch to put you on bed rest. Ten galleons says Madam Pomphrey contacts her to come and see you soon.”

“No bet,” Hermione yawned, snuggling into him.

Hermione blinked slowly as she registered that the light outside was bright. Beside her, an amused-looking Draco smiled down at her. “About time Princess. I’ve been waiting for ages.”

Hermine groaned. “What time is it?”

“Half past one.”

“What?” she yelped. “The twins….”

“Are perfectly fine. I’ve already checked. Madam Pomphrey was administering more potions when I went in. They're not awake, but she's confident they’ll be alright eventually.”

Letting out the breath she hadn't been aware she’d been holding, Hermione nodded. “Thank you.

“Don't thank me yet,” Draco warned. “Healer McMillan will be here in half an hour to check you over.”

“Oh for fucks sake,” Hermione muttered, shoving the duvet off her.

“Want some company in that shower, Princess?” 

She rolled her eyes. “Not if I only have half an hour.”

“We can be quick….”

“Just what every girl wants to hear, Draco,” she replied drily, making him laugh. He still followed her into the shower. 

The Healer looked amused when they got back to their room. “How kind o ye tae join us.”

Hermione flushed. “Healer McMillan, Madam Pomfrey,” she greeted. 

“I hear ye had a bit o a magical workoot yisterday?” the Healer probed. 

“Yes. It's… been a little while since I've had to do magic that complicated,” Hermione admitted.

“Aye, I imagine it was. Let's be seeing ye then lass.”

Cautiously Hermione sat on the bed, watching as the witch cast over her. “Well then, dae ye want the guid news or the bad news?”

“Good?” Hermione hedged. 

The healer hummed. “Malnutrition's almost gone. Ye kin come off the potions nixt week. Yer still underweight, ye ken, so mak sure’n eat regularly. Nerve damage is also almost gone. Twae mair days and ye’ll be done.”

“And the bad news?”

“There's some bits I kin see I missed when I healed ye the last time. I kin try’n fix it if ye want?” Hermione nodded slowly. “Good, we’ll hae a look at yer heart the day an’all if ye want?”

“As long as you still intend to show us the spells and the counterspells,” Draco cut in.

“Verra well. Sit yer arse doon, laddie. Let's be looking ower you.” Sighing, he sat next to Hermione. “Ye kin come aff the nutrition potions at the same time as the lass, but ye need to eat mair. Yer lass is a tiny thing. You on the ither haun’ shouldna be. Add in anither meal. Anither week or so o’ the nerve potions. The damage I healed last time’s held. It's as gid as it’s getting, lad.” She paused, waiting on Poppy to record her findings. “Now, lie yersel doon Miss Potter. Let's be seeing if I can fix things.”

Gingerly Hermione lay down. Draco moved her until her head was on his lap, his arm wrapped around her. “I fucking hate this,” he muttered. 

She smiled wanly. “It’ll be worth it when you have a small pointy-chinned mini me whining at you to take them up on a broom.” 

Draco swallowed. The image of a tiny curly-headed child on a broomstick, spouting off random facts in mimicry of Hermione was painfully vivid now that it was an actual possibility. “Yes,” he agreed quietly, squeezing her hand as the Healer raised her wand. 

“Deep breath, Miss Potter. This is going tae hurt.” Hermione tensed briefly before forcing herself to relax. Her grip on Draco's hand became painful as she forced herself not to scream as the unfortunately familiar feeling of wanting to claw out her own insides almost overwhelmed her while the Healer worked. “We’re done, Miss Potter. I’ve healed whit I kin see an’ I’m….cautiously optimistic. Now, stay aff yer feet lass, same as before. Are ye up for us hivin a wee look at those hearts?” 

Draco looked down at Hermione, his eyes scanning her face. “Let's get it over with,” she murmured softly. “They’re going to confine us to a bed again. I’d prefer that happened all at once rather than having to endure two rounds of Sirius’ version of entertainment. I already know more about the broom cupboards at Hogwarts than I ever wanted to know.”

Draco snorted. “Fine. You first. You’re already lying down.” She rolled her eyes but didn't argue.

“Ye kin stay where ye are laddie. Ye’ll jist need tae be movin’ that airm. We'll be using altum somnum . Hiv ye heard o’ it?”

Draco nodded. “I’ve seen Healers using it.”

“Then ye’ll ken the counter?”

“ Revertere ad nos.”

“Aye, verra guid lad. An’ the wand movemint?”

“Sharp flick up above the forehead.”

“Verra guid. Perhaps yon lass isna the only yin whae needs to be considerin’ an Healin’ apprenticeship.”

“No thanks,” Draco grimaced. “I’ll stick to the potions. I might know the spells, but I don't have the stomach or the bedside manner for it.”

The healer snorted. “Aye well. It was worth a try. Ye’d mak a formidable team.”

Hermione shrugged awkwardly from the bed. “We still will. When we were… camping, we discussed looking at ways to incorporate different potions into healing. They're already used quite heavily, but the quality seems to vary and from what Draco says, which ones are used seems to vary depending on the Healer’s preference. Some seem to prefer charms over potions.”

Healer McMillan nodded thoughtfully. “Yer no wrang,” she admitted. “A lot o’ healin’ is goin’ wit yer gut. There are standard treatments but maist healers add in their ain twist, ye ken. It's why some o’ us are better at some things than ithers. Magic guides, an if magic is tellin ye tae be lookin’ at different potions wae yer lad, then far be it frae me tae contradict.” 

They nodded back but didn't say anything. “Now, Poppy’ll put up the diagnostic and I’ll pit ye tae sleep lass. It's likely tae tak some time.” She pinned Draco with a look. “Ask yer questions, but dinna dare try an’ stop the process. It kid kill her.”

Draco paled but nodded, his eyes never leaving the diagnostic hanging over Hermione's body as he felt her go slack. He tried to tamp down the instant feeling of nausea that hit while he attempted to convince himself she wasn't going to be harmed, despite how vulnerable she was. He wasn't sure he breathed again until the Healer raised her voice from her mumbles, warning him she was going to wake her up.

“Draco?” Hermione slurred, blinking blearily up at him.

“How nice of you to rejoin us, Princess,” he teased, squeezing her hand tightly. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore,” Hermione admitted. 

“Aye, ye will lass,” the healer interjected, handing a pain potion to Draco to give to her. “But it went well. Ye’ll be saire fur a few days, so I’ll leave pain potions wi’ yer grandmither. Tak them. Now, laddie, ye’ll need tae lie doon.”

“Severus,” Hermione said softly, making the healer frown. “I… I can't do anything and I need…”

“Someone here whae kin guard yer back.” The Healer sighed in understanding. Hermione nodded apologetically but didn't retract her demand. 

“Perhaps an elf would be best?” Poppy voiced. “They can… remain hidden until it's safe.”

“Trixie,” Hermione called softly.

“The little Mistress bes wanting Trixie?”

“Can you go to Severus Snape and tell him we need him if he's able? Don't reveal yourself unless it's safe.”

The elf nodded, popping out of existence. She returned five minutes later with a confused-looking Severus. His eyes widened as he took in the room.

“Little Puff? Is everything alright?”

“Yes. Healer McMillan was healing the damage on my heart. She wants to do Draco now but I can't….”

Severus rolled his eyes. “Move?” he suggested.

“I can't… I know, logically, she's not a threat, but I can't leave him with no protection.”

Severus sighed. “Very well. I’ve left a potion that needs to be stirred in three hours. Is that likely to be a problem?”

“None at all, lad. The lass took about ninety minutes. I dinna think the laddie will tak ony mair time than that.”

Severus nodded, transfiguring himself an armchair from one of the pillows and settling himself comfortably, his wand in hand. Slowly Hermione shuffled to the other side of the bed, keeping Draco's hand clasped tightly in hers.

Two hours later, the healer gently brought him back around. He woke to see Hermione propped up against Severus, whose arm was wrapped around her tightly. She looked pale and scared. Her grip on his hand was almost painful, although it was enough to ground him as he attempted to work out what was going on. 

“Princess?”

“You took a wee bit longer tae heal, lad,” the Healer cut in softly. “The damage wis… mair extensive than first shown, so it took a wee shade longer than I’d predicted. Yer lass was worrit and yon laddie his nae stomach fur it.”

Severus’ cheeks pinked but he didn't disagree. “He never did,” Draco agreed softly, wincing as he moved, and his chest reminded him that it probably wasn't wise as Hermione climbed carefully off Severus and burrowed into his side. He could feel her tears. “Don't scare me like that again, Draco Malfoy,” she scolded into his neck.

“Payback, Princess,” he murmured, “for all the times you haired off with your ridiculous lion pride and shaved years off my life.”

“Pain potion, Mr. Malfoy,” Poppy commanded. “And neither of you are to move from this bed for at least the next two days, am I clear? No strenuous movement. No excessive magic. Let your body heal.”

“Of course Madam Pomfrey,” Draco murmured, taking the potion from Severus, trusting that he’d checked it.

“Good. We’ll see you in a week to check things over.”

Three days later, they finally convinced Dorea to allow them out of bed. “I never thought I’d say it, but I never want to be stuck in bed again,” she groused.

“Draco snorted. “Perhaps next time it’ll be… more pleasurable.”

She rolled her eyes. “Get your mind out of the gutter Malfoy. We’ve research to present.”

“But afterwards?” he asked hopefully.

She laughed. “Don't let Grandmother hear you. She’ll have you in your own room with Trixie's warding. Come on, let's get this over with.”

He pouted but followed her out of the room. 

They arrived just before Dumbledore. Everyone was still milling around, talking about things that had nothing to do with the Order or the war. 

“Kitten! Cousin! You look…” Sirius frowned, “better?”

Draco shrugged. “I feel better. I don't think we realised how much the damage was draining us.”

Sirius nodded. “Makes sense. Come sit with us. Lils is trying to convince Moony to make an honest man of me.”

Hermione's eyebrows rose sharply. “Oh?”

Sirius shrugged awkwardly. “I mean I wouldn't say no…..”

“You just want a crup,” Remus replied pointedly.

Sirius grinned. “Partly, but I quite like the idea of a pet wolf too.”

“Pet wolf?” Remus echoed, looking distinctly unimpressed.

“Oh yes… I’m sure I’ve got a collar somewhere.”

“And that is where we leave his conversation,” Draco cut in looking horrified. “I have no urge to know what your preferences are. That's too much information….far, far too much.”

Hermione laughed. “I always assumed the collar would be yours, not Remus.’”

Sirius turned pink. “It's not a bad plan,” Remus grinned, eyeing Sirius speculatively. 

“Might I also suggest a muzzle?” Severus added, hugging Hermione from behind, dropping a kiss onto the top of her head.

“Ball gag?” she enquired with exaggerated innocence, making Draco whine.

“Please, Princess. If you love me at all, you’ll stop!” he begged as she cackled. 

“What’s… what's a ball gag? Is… is it a toy for dogs?” Sirius asked in confusion. There were several beats of silence before Hermione, Remus, and Severus howled.

“Gods, I needed that,” Hermione wheezed, calming herself down as she swiped underneath her eyes to clear the tears. “You didn't spend long in Ann Summers?”

Sirius turned immediately pink as the realisation washed over him. “Oh. Oh… I…”

“It's not a no,” Hermione grinned at Remus. Severus snorted into her hair as Draco shifted uncomfortably next to them. 

“Princess, please stop!” he begged. “He's my cousin.”

“Blacks are into that sort of thing,” Hermione quipped, earning a betrayed frown from Sirius and a startled giggle from Lily. 

“I’ve never been to Ann Summers,” she mused idly as James seemed to swallow his own tongue. 

“This is the ah… adult toy shop, Sirius mentioned?” he checked.

“Yup. Maybe we should visit before the wedding.”

Hermione grinned back. “Grandmother would be horrified, but perhaps Alice and Marlene?”

“Yes,” Lily grinned. “Marlene mentioned she’d spent some time helping you research?”

“Yes. She managed to eliminate almost half of the area we were looking at in about two hours.”

Lily laughed, nodding. “She was always pretty efficient. Come on, let's find seats. Dumbledore will be here shortly, although Merlin knows why we wait on him anymore. Half the Order only speaks to him when they absolutely have to.”

Hermione winced. “Yeah, I don't imagine he's impressed with that.”

“You think he'll do something?” Draco asked, reading her face.

“I don't know,” she sighed. “I don't think he likes being out of control and I don't trust him. It’s… I don't know.”

“He's been awfully quiet hasn't he?” Draco mused quietly.

“Too quiet,” Hermione agreed as the Headmaster finally arrived, looking serene as he glided towards the seat at the head of the table.

“Now, what news have we today?”

Hermione and Draco shared a look. “We found Tom Riddle,” Draco voiced. 

“Where?” Charlus asked. 

“Little Hangleton.” 

“Fine. We’ll sort the team. Amelia, Edgar, Alice, Frank, do you still want to go ahead with this one?”

“Yes,” they answered without hesitation. 

“It's…” Hermione paused. “Look, it's cursed, so for the love of God be careful. I don't know what's on it or whether there are compulsions or other spells, but it contains a curse that will kill you if you touch it. Please, please, don't do anything stupid.”

“We get it, Hermione,” Alice soothed. “Don't touch the creepy ring with our bare hands. We’ll take an elf if it’ll make you feel better?”

“Yes, actually it would. I don't know if they’re immune to the compulsion, but there's a better chance of an elf getting you out quickly. We already know he didn’t consider their magic.”

“You can take Lolly,” Augusta offered, “And perhaps Socks?”

“Socks?” Hermione smiled.

“Frank’s elf,” Augusta explained. “He named him as a toddler when his favourite thing in the world was new socks.” Several people giggled as Frank turned an interesting shade of red. 

“Well take them both, “ Amelia agreed, stifling her smile. “This week?”

“This week,” Alice nodded. “We'll look at schedules after the meeting?” The table went quiet as the reality set in. 

“It feels weird to be finally doing this,” James murmured. Several people nodded their agreement. 

“Well,” Regulus cut in nervously. “I’m due at the Manor in a fortnight. Ah… I’d like a contingency.”

“In what way Mr. Black?” Dumbledore asked with an arched brow. 

“I don't know,” he looked flustered. “Something to knock Lucius out? Someone with me!”

“That's preposterous.”

“It's not,” Hermione mused quietly. “We could organise something… untraceable… to put in his drink? Or… you could simply stun him.”

“He’ll know!” Regulus wailed. “He's Lucius bloody Malfoy!”

Hermione sighed, realising for the first time just how young and sheltered Regulus was as his hysteria took over. “Ok, something untraceable then,” she soothed. 

Beside her, Severus sighed. “For fucks sake. I’ll stun him. You cast a cushioning charm.”

“Or cast a bloody somnum charm,” Draco muttered exasperatedly. “Ply him with firewhiskey. He’ll think he took a nap!”

Regulus, Severus, and Hermione froze. “I could do that,” Regulus agreed with a sheepish smile.

At the other end of the table Dorea, Augusta, and Minerva shared amused looks. “Well, now that's cleared up,” Minerva began with a smirk. “Is there anything else we need to know?”

Amelia looked uncomfortable. “Pettigrew is sentenced to be Kissed in a fortnight,” she said softly.

The marauders looked instantly tense. “Kissed?” Sirius repeated.

“Yes.” Amelia looked apologetic. “I’m sorry. He's just too much of a risk.”

Silently they nodded, none of them hearing the rest of the meeting.

Chapter Text

“Are you alright?” Hermione asked softly after she found James standing in a hallway looking out the window.

“Where did it all go so wrong?” he whispered, not looking at her.

“I ask myself that often,” she admitted quietly, moving to stand next to him.

A flash of regret shot across his face. “Fuck, Hermione, I didn't….”

“Stop,” she commanded. “You're allowed to be upset about the rat. He… I only ever knew him as the disgusting man who was more rat than a human, the one who cost my baby brother his family. You… he was one of your best friends. I can't imagine how it feels to know that he isn't who you thought he was.”

“It makes me question everything,” he admitted. “I don't… what else have I missed? Was it something we did? Was there a turning point or was it something that he’d managed to hide for years? What if we could have done something to stop it?”

Hermione sighed. “I wish I had answers, but I don't. You… you can't think like that though. You’ll drive yourself insane. Pettigrew made his choices. His reasons are his own, not yours. I’m sorry you were betrayed by a friend, but I can't be sorry we caught him earlier than we did in my original timeline. You have a real chance of getting to see Harry grow up, of seeing those quidditch matches, teasing him about his first girlfriend, seeing him off to Hogwarts…. Maybe when you're torturing yourself with what ifs, remember that. Because the you in my timeline, he didn't get that. “

James sighed. “You’d make a terrible Mind healer.” 

Hermione winced. “Probably,” she admitted. “I’m not great at this.”

“You're right though. He… he cost me everything and I need to not forget that. But I think I just need time to grieve for the boy I thought he was.”

Hermine nodded. “That’s fair enough. I’ll leave you to it.”

“I… Hermione? How do you feel about pubs?”

She frowned. “I have no feelings either way,” she replied with a shrug. 

“Fancy joining your big brother for a drink?”

Hermione sighed. “Go on then. Are we inviting your entourage?”

James snorted. “Nah. Pads and Moony will be ah… comforting each other and I really don't want to interrupt.”

Hermione grimaced. “Thanks for the warning. I’ll let Draco know we’re going.”

“Should you be?” he asked as if it had just occurred to him.

Hermione shrugged. “I feel better than I have in ages, to be honest. I’m not up for doing any strenuous dancing or anything, but I can sit with you in a pub.”

James seemed to consider her for a moment. “I have a better idea. Mum would murder me if you got hurt just after you'd been healed. Come on.” He tugged at her hand, dragging her down the stairs and through to the kitchen where he rummaged for a few moments before unearthing a bottle of Firewhiskey from the back of the cupboard along with a bottle of elf wine and two glasses. “This way,” he called, heading for the back doors. Rolling her eyes, Hermione followed him out into the garden, wondering where on earth he was heading as he wove in and out of trees before stopping in a small clearing. “We used to come here every summer, pitch a tent, and tell stories. Mum had the elves leave us firewood after Sirius almost broke his neck climbing a tree to get branches.”

“Ah,'' Hermione replied softly, watching as he transfigured rocks into chairs and began attempting a fire. “It sounds… idyllic.”

He hummed. “What were your summers like?”

Hermione sighed. “Lonely, in the beginning. I spent them not seeing my friends until the summer before fourth year. Fourth year was the World Cup which was… well, it ended badly, but the in-between bits were nice. The Burrow has a lake at the back. We’d swim in it. The boys played quidditch. Fred and George pranked us…. The year before fifth, we were at Grimmauld and Molly made us clean. That was… well it wasn't fun. There were moments, lots of little moments. We were back at the Burrow the summer before sixth. It was… it was hard. Sirius had died and Harry was struggling. And obviously, the summer after sixth was short.”

“I’m sorry.” James looked pained.

She shook her head. “I… I don't have memories of idyllic summers like you, but like I said, I have moments. Moments of normality, little pockets of time where everything was perfect. I don't regret it, not for a moment.”

“I don't think I could do what you're doing,” he admitted. 

“I don't think I could do what you are either,” she replied softly. “I think it would have killed me to have Harry or Ron choose to betray me. I wouldn't be as calm as you are.”

“Calm?” he scoffed, forgoing the glass and swigging from the bottle. “I want to break things. I want to rage and I want to scream and I want to murder him. I’m not calm, Hermione. I’m… scared. Scared if I give into it I won’t stop.”

“So let's break some things,” she suggested calmly.

“What?”

“You heard me, big brother. Let's break some things. I used to do it in the Room of Requirement. When things were hard or out of control, I used to go there and hurl curses at training dummies and blow up whatever the room scrounged up for me. Gin used to come with me quite a bit. Harry frustrated her to no end until he got his shit together.”

He gaped at her before he laughed. “Merlin, you’re serious.”

“Yup,” she nodded, before sending a Patronus to Minerva asking for entry. The dry reply came moments later, telling them to meet her at the gates to explain themselves.

“Holy shit,” James breathed. “I can't believe you just did that.”

“Are you coming or not?”

“What?” he yelped. “Yes!”

“Then let's go! Can we apparate from the grounds?”

“I can. I don't know if Dad will have released the wards for you yet. Probably, to be fair. Try it. It won't harm you either way, and if you can’t I’ll side along you.” Nodding, Hermione twirled, landing outside Hogwarts’ gates. James joined her seconds later. “Dad added you to the wards then.”

“So it would seem.” 

“Miss Potter, Mr. Potter, might I inquire as to what on Earth you are thinking?” Minerva asked from the other side of the gate.

“We were thinking that allowing James to blow some things up might make him feel at least marginally better about the whole best friend being Kissed thing,” Hermione replied bluntly. 

Minerva winced. “Yes well… be that as it may, I cannot allow you to blow up a castle.”

“And we won't. The Room of Requirement will provide something.”

Minerva stilled. “I hadn't thought of that,” she admitted quietly. “Very well. Alert me when you intend to leave. You can use my floo.”

“Thanks, Minnie,” James grinned.

“Do not make me change my mind, Mr. Potter,” she responded sharply as she opened the gates.”

“Of course not!” he replied with exaggerated offence. “We all know I was your favourite!” he dodged, grinning at her as her hand came up to clip him.

Hermione sighed. “All of a sudden I’m very glad I went to school with your son and not you. I’d have hexed you before the end of the first week.”

James paused, looking offended. “No!” He exclaimed. “How can you say such a thing! Betrayed by my own daughter!”

“I’m not your daughter!” she whined, making him laugh as they walked the path up to the castle, Minerva watching them with a slightly indulgent smile. She’d never admit it, but he was one of her favourites. 

“So I just walk in front of that bit of wall three times and it’ll give me what I want?” James checked. 

“Yup. Concentrate on it.” He hummed, his forehead creasing into a frown as he paced. 

“Wicked!” he grinned as the door appeared. Hermione cautiously followed him in. Inside were statues of Peter, various pieces of china, and training dummies that also bore a remarkable resemblance to Pettigrew. James stood still for a moment before a mask came down over his face and he blasted one of the statues with a bombarda so strong Hermione had to dodge, casting a shield charm as she went. Carefully, she crept into a corner, set her shield in front of her, and watched, attempting to fight the instincts that were screaming at her that this wasn't safe. 

It took over an hour of the Room continually replacing the Peter effigies for James to break. Slowly, Hermione crept out of her corner as she watched him drop to his knees, sobbing as he took in the destruction around him, one lone Peter statue towering over him. 

“Oh James,” she murmured as she wrapped an arm around him, feeling him slump into her.

“What did we do to deserve him wanting us dead, Hermione?” he asked piteously.

“You didn't. You didn't do anything.” 

“But we must have.” He twisted so he was looking at her, his eyes begging her to have an answer.

“James.” She looked at him helplessly. “You didn’t. He… it's all on him. He made his own shitty choices, James, not you. You didn't make them for him. For fucks sake, he chose to kill you. He chose his side. You… you’d never have done it to him. Remus, Sirius… none of you would have made the choices he did. You’d have died before betraying him. And he… he sided with a fucking insane megalomaniac.”

He gulped as he looked at her. “But what if something we did drove him there?”

“What? What could you possibly have done to justify him joining them?”

“I… I don't know! But…”

“Stop!” she hissed. “You know damn fucking well that nothing justifies his choices!”

“But he's… Hermione, they're going to suck out his soul.”

She winced. “I know,” she whispered. “And… I’m sorry… for the boy you knew. But I… I’m not sorry for him. ”

James nodded slowly. “Help me blow some more things up?”

“Sure. Although if I end up injuring myself, you’re explaining it to Draco and Healer McMillan.”

He snorted. “Deal.” 

“Princess?” Draco mumbled as he felt the bed dip.

“Go back to sleep,” she whispered, running a hand through his hair.

“Where have you been?” 

“With James. He needed… to blow some things up.”

Draco hummed. “You too?”

“Yes,” she admitted. “Me too.” 

“What time is it?” 

“After one. Draco, go back to sleep. I didn't mean to wake you.” 

“No, talk to me.”

She laughed softly, watching as he struggled to wake himself up. “About what?”

“Tell me… tell me what life will look like when this is all over.” He stretched a hand out for her, pulling her to him when she took it. Huffing out a laugh, she rearranged herself until she was comfy, her head on his chest. 

“We’ll be married,” she murmured slowly.

“Soon,” he agreed. 

“Yes. We… our children will grow up with Harry, Luna, the Weasleys, and Neville. Maybe you’ll teach them how to fly.” She laughed suddenly. “Harry will call you Uncle Draco.”

Draco grimaced. “Wow Princess. Really?”

She snorted. “You know he will. Severus… we’ll find Severus someone. I assume female, but you never know. He can teach our kids potions along with his.”

“Severus with kids?” Draco asked incredulously. “Were you drinking with James?”

She laughed. “No, just James. I… I figured Madam Pomprey would flay me alive for even considering it. And I can see Severus with kids, can’t you?”

“No!” he exclaimed emphatically. “I can see him putting up with your kids. Maybe this time he’ll even be nice to Potter, but his own?”

“I can see it,” she mused. “He won't have time to be bitter and lonely this time. And since we're the same age, I can nag much more effectively. Lily will help.”

“I love you, Princess,” he grinned. “I can't quite imagine anything as entertaining as you and Lily convincing Severus to date.”

She rolled her eyes even though he couldn't see her. “You’ll be a potions master,“ she continued as if the tangent hadn't happened. “Maybe I will become a healer. I don't know… We’ll live… probably somewhere nearby, realistically. I don't get the impression we’ll be allowed to do anything else.”

Draco snorted. “Princess, what makes you think you’ll be allowed to leave here at all?”

Hermione laughed. “I… I want it, Draco. All of it. The career, the kids, the stupidly annoying, interfering family. I want to see everyone grow up.”

“We will,” he murmured, stroking a hand over her head. “You’ll be bossy Aunt ‘Mione, who tells the best, most unbelievable stories of riding dragons and thestrals and taking down fully grown mountain trolls.”

She smiled slightly, desperately missing the people her friends had been, knowing that the stories would be real for her alone and thrilling tales for everyone else. She could picture a tiny Harry and Ron hanging off her every word and she desperately wanted to cry. “What do you want?”

He stilled. “You,” he said eventually. “You, the kids, the… normal life. I want to grow old with you. I want to see you at one hundred and fifty, surrounded by great-great-grandchildren, with stories of all the years between now and then. Happy ones. Stories of birthday parties, Christmases, and Uncle Sirius doing stupid stuff as Padfoot or Uncle Severus hexing someone, probably Uncle James.”

She snorted. “I imagine there’ll be a lot of those stories,” she mused. “Probably with Aunt Lily helping him.”

“It's so close, Princess,” he whispered. “So, so fucking close. And… I know it won't be how we imagined it originally, but… it's still us. Still our future, and gods, I’d do it all over again as long as you’re standing next to me at the end of it.”

“I wish they were here, Draco,” she murmured, squeezing him tighter, giving in to her tears. “But there's no timeline where I can imagine losing you. I love you, Draco Malfoy. More than you’ll ever know.” She felt him shift to squeeze her tighter. 

“You're my whole world, Princess. As long as you're here, I think I could survive anything.”

“Let's not put that theory to the test, my dragon,” she murmured into his chest. “Sleep now. James’ hangover is likely to be entertaining and I doubt you want to miss it.”

Chapter Text

“Are you ready for this?” Dorea asked carefully.

Draco shrugged. “We have a good reason to be going. It’s not that suspicious.”

Dorea hummed. “Minerva and Filius made us a copy, just in case.”

“I hadn't thought of that,” Draco admitted slowly.

“If Bella is informed, she’ll check. It seemed wise.”

“Yes. Merlin, I can't imagine what would have happened if there wasn't something there,” he agreed, not wanting to imagine the fallout that would have caused.

“Indeed. Let's get this over with then.”

Nodding, Draco followed her towards the floo, calling out for Diagon Alley.

“I wish to access all of the Black and Potter Vaults,” Dorea demanded as the Goblin looked at her curiously. “My Granddaughter is getting married and I want to ensure her jewellery is perfect.”

“Your Granddaughter, Madam Potter?” the goblin asked with a frown.

Seeing it, Dorea changed tactics. “Might I speak to Garlag?”

The goblin blinked, but nodded. “Yes,” he agreed, eyeing her suspiciously as he hopped off his chair.

“Madam Potter wishes to speak to Garlag?” Another goblin frowned, eying Dorea. Draco had to fight not to fidget. It had not been so hard the last time around. No one had questioned them when they came for Hermione's engagement ring. Was it because Dorea had asked for access to all of the vaults? Silently, he followed his Aunt and the goblin into one of the private rooms. He settled almost immediately. He could do this. He’d been in this very room with his father more times than he could count to meet with Snarfang, the goblin in charge of the Malfoy vaults. It was almost comforting in its familiarity.

“Madam Potter?” Garlag prompted.

Dorea watched him curiously. “I merely asked to visit the Potter and Black vaults. My granddaughter is getting married and I want her wedding jewellery to be perfect.”

“Madam Potter, your son is not old enough to have a daughter of marriageable age.”

“No,” Dorea agreed slowly. “Under normal circumstances, he would not be. Might I speak frankly, Garlag?”

“Are you asking if our conversation is confidential, Madam Potter?” Draco thought the goblin looked amused. 

“Yes,” Dorea agreed, her face blank.

“Consider me intrigued, Madam Potter.”

“My granddaughter is a time traveller. She has been verified using veritaserum”

The goblin blinked. “I see. She has not been verified here?”

“Should she have been?” Draco asked with a frown.

The goblin looked at him shrewdly. “To ensure the right to claim,” he agreed. “You are?”

Draco hesitated, allowing Dorea to speak for him. “Does the promised confidentiality still hold?”

“Yes, Madam.”

“My name is Draco Malfoy,” he sighed.

“Also a time traveller?”

“Yes,” Draco agreed.

“And you're willing to verify that?”

“Will anyone be notified?”

“No.” The goblin definitely looked amused now. “Unless you would like them to be.”

“No. Definitely not,” Draco replied quickly. “What does verification involve?”

“Blood.”

Draco nodded. He’d expected as much. “Very well.”

“Three drops, Mr. Malfoy,” the goblin instructed, holding out a tiny dagger. Silently, Draco sliced his finger, allowing three drops to fall onto the waiting parchment. The goblin's eyebrows rose. “It would seem that you are exactly who you say you are, Mr. Malfoy. Now, why don't you tell me why you're really here?”

Draco snorted. “Technically, my fiance really does need jewellery for our wedding.”

“But that is not the only reason you are here.”

“No,” Draco agreed, making a split-second decision. “Do you have rules about what can and cannot be kept in a vault?”

Garlag looked surprised at the question but answered regardless. “Yes. Not many, but yes. Anything which can harm a goblin just being in the vicinity needs to be handed to our curse breakers before being stored. Nothing alive may be stored in a vault. Any additional person who wishes to visit another family vault must be verified. Anyone who wishes to store something in another vault must be given permission from the goblins.”

Draco hummed. “So a Horcrux?” he asked casually. Beside him, Dorea looked startled at his blunt question.

“Would be against the rules,” Garlag agreed.

“And if there is one?” Draco queried.

“Then we would be most grateful for the information and would be obliged as a nation to ensure that you were looked upon favourably.”

Draco hummed. “Then perhaps it's time to visit the Black vaults. We’re hoping it's there.”

“There is truly a Horcrux in our bank?” Garlag checked, looking like he didn't believe a word of it.

“There was in our time,” Draco allowed. “We’re unsure if that’s the case this early. We merely wanted to check.”

“Whose vault?” the goblin growled. 

“Bellatrix Lestrange.”

He nodded sharply. “Wait here.”

“Was that wise?” Dorea asked softly once he was gone.

“I don't know, but… I think he’d have known if we’d lied.”

“Probably,” Dorea sighed. “They did not verify you last time.”

“Maybe they did,” Draco replied slowly. “Goblins rarely get involved in what wizards are up to. I would be surprised if they did verify me and then left it well alone. You didn't give a name, but you told him I was your great nephew. That's not a lie. It would have come back true.”

Dorea paused, considering that. “True, we have no idea how goblins traditionally verify someone. I’ve never seen them ask for blood in the main part of the bank.” Draco hummed in response, mulling that over. Were there ways to ensure a person was who they said they were that wizards knew nothing of? He startled slightly as Dorea continued. “If it's there, we need to convince them to take the fake.”

“I know. Anything else and he might make another one. And if he does that…”

“We lose our advantage,” Dorea nodded. “What's left?”

“The diary and the locket. We have a plan for the ring and we have the diadem.”

“So close,” she murmured. “We need to consider a plan for after we have them all.”

“I know,” Draco sighed. “I was going to mention it to Moody. Dumbledore doesn't seem to be in any rush.”

“No. He… we’d have followed him blindly, you know.”

“Funnily enough, I do,” he agreed.

She winced. “Yes, I imagine you would.”

They both fell silent as they waited on the goblin to reappear. It took over half an hour and when he returned he was furious.

“Mr. Malfoy, you did us a great service,” Garlag intoned stiffly. 

Draco nodded. “It was there then.”

“Yes.” 

“Have you destroyed it?”

“Not yet. It is on its way to one of our experts.”

“Please don't!” Draco interjected quickly. “There are more. Not here. We don't have them all yet and we don't know if he can feel them being destroyed.”

The goblin froze. “Who created more of that abomination?” he hissed.

Draco sighed. “Tom Riddle. I imagine you're more familiar with him as Voldemort.”

“How many more?” The goblin barked. 

“We think four.”

“And you're going to get rid of them?”

“That's the plan,” Draco agreed.

The goblin hummed, summoning another goblin and dispatching them with orders in gobbledygook that Draco didn't understand. “We will keep them here. Bring the others. When the time is right, we will destroy them.”

“Will you place this in my great-niece's vault?” Dorea checked, holding out the replica. “We’re worried that if she notices something amiss, he’ll create more that we will have no idea about.”

“Very well, Madam Potter,” Garlag agreed slowly. “How many do you have?”

“One,” Draco answered, watching Garlag closely. “We have plans to get the next one shortly. Someone is working on the third and the fourth requires patience while we wait for it to be placed.”

“Very well,” Garlag nodded. “You will keep us updated.” 

“Of course,” Draco agreed.

Garlag turned to Dorea, “Bring your granddaughter for verification,” he commanded. “You can bring the Horcrux with her.”

“Very well, Garlag. I shall check her schedule. She is… helping coordinate the search, as well as wedding planning.”

Garlag grunted. “Before the week is out.”

“Before the week is out,” Dorea agreed.

Hermione fidgeted as she waited on the Healer. The week had flown by with discussions of missions, the involvement of the goblins, and Dumbledore's increasing absences. The twins were finally awake for reasonable periods of time and had been allowed out of bed for a few hours the night before. Benjy Fenwick had been attacked, only escaping because of Hermione and Draco’s portkey. It had been a miracle he’d been unharmed, but Regulus and Severus warned that the portkeys were now being discussed at meetings and to therefore be on their guard.

“How are ye, Miss Potter?” Healer McMillan’s voice startled her out of her introspection. “Where's yon laddie o’ yours?”

“Oh, he was just discussing something with my… ah, brother. Wedding related, I think, or more likely stag night related.”

The healer snorted. “Verra well. We’ll check yer healin’ an then I’ve invitit someone I’d like ye tae meet.”

“Oh?” Hermione queried softly. 

“She’ll be up yince this is done. Now lie yersel doon an lets be hae’n a look.”

Slowly, Hermione lowered herself down on the bed, trying to ignore her rising panic at being alone with another person who had their wand pointed at her. “Almost done lass,” the healer soothed, taking in her rising heart rate. “Everything looks guid, lass,” she eventually pronounced. 

“Everything?” hermione checked.

“Yer askin aboot yer chances o’ bairns?”

“Yes,” Hermione sighed.

“I canna see ony reason why no. I’d advise ye tae wait a bit. Yer body's bin through a lot and while a lot o’ the damage his been healt, yer still underweight and it could probably dae wi a rest. Pregnancy is hard on the body, ye ken.” 

Hermione nodded, allowing the relief to wash over her. She had almost given up and accepted that biological children were not going to be for her if she survived. 

“Princess?” Draco's voice sounded from the door. “Princess, why are you crying?”

He looked up at the Healer, completely panicked when Hermione threw herself at him, sobbing.

“Dinna fash, laddie. It wis guid news.”

 “Good news that resulted in this?” he asked incredulously, as he rearranged Hermione until she was more comfortable. 

“Aye,” the healer responded serenely. 

“Feel like giving me a clue?”

“Everything looks good,” Hermione mumbled.

“Ok…” Draco drew the word out slowly, realising he was missing something but not sure what.

“ Everything , Draco.”

He blinked, attempting to grasp whatever clue she was dropping. “Oh… Oh!” He squeezed her tightly as it clicked, tempted to join her in her tears. 

“Shall we check you then, lad?”

He nodded slowly. “Let's get it over with.”

Silently, Hermione moved to sit at the end of the bed, her eyes red and puffy, watching the healer's wand avidly. 

“And… yer looking guid too,” the healer announced. “You've been having that extra meal?”

“Like Hermione would allow anything else,” he muttered. 

“Good. It's working. Keep it up at least fur the nixt month. Ye’ll cut it oot naturally as yer portion sizes increase. I assume ye’ve noticed?”

He frowned. “Now that you've mentioned it.” 

The healer rolled her eyes. “It shouldna be needit yince yer eating a normal amount, but I’ll be checking oan ye monthly fur a wee bit longer. Any concerns ye kin contact me through Poppy. Now, I wantit ye tae meet someone before I left ye this time. There's nae pressure. She'll leave a way fur ye tae contact her fur when yer ready.”

Hermione frowned, wondering who on earth the Healer was going on about. She waited silently for the Healer to return, doing a double take at the sight of what looked like Bella standing at the door. 

“Andromeda,” she whispered as her breathing righted itself and her mind processed what she was really seeing.

“You have me at a disadvantage,” the witch replied, her eyes on Draco. 

“Draco Malfoy and Hermione Potter. How much did they tell you?”

“Nothing,” the witch breathed. “I’m… bound by oaths from the DOM if that's what you're worried about, but nothing. Malfoy… as in…”

“Lucius? Yes. He's my father.”

“Your father! He can't be!”

“He is,” Draco insisted. “What do you know of the tempus reset ritual?”

Andromeda paled. “Sweet Salazar. Does… Cissa… I…”

“Does she know? Yes. I’ve met her in this timeline.”

Andromeda slowly sank into the chair the Healer had conjured her. “This is… unreal. Why would you… It's a last resort.”

“It was,” Hermione replied softly. “There was no other choice but death.”

Andromeda paled, looking at her. “I… Gods.” Her mouth twisted into a wry smile suddenly. “Well, if nothing else, our sessions won't be dull.”

“I don't know that I’m ready yet,” Hermione admitted softly. “I have things to do first that need to take precedence.”

Andromeda nodded slowly before turning to Draco. “And you?”

“I agree,” Draco sighed. “I… We’ll need it. After. But right now our focus can't be on anything other than our current task.”

She nodded then. “And if I wanted to get to know my nephew? I assume you are my nephew?”

Draco sighed. “Yes… I would consider it.”

“Good. I’ll leave my card with Aunt Dorea. You tap it and say your name and what you want–an appointment, an emergency appointment, to cancel a prearranged session. It’ll alert me and allow me to act accordingly. Otherwise, perhaps you’ll indulge me and meet me for tea? In the muggle world? Ted knows some places where we won't be seen.”

Draco nodded. “Fine. I can do that.”

“Good.” She nodded briskly. “Friday?”

“I… I think that should be fine,” Draco replied, looking as if he had no idea how he’d been talked into it so quickly.

“Meet me at the Leaky then. Disguise yourself if you must. We won't be there long.” He nodded dumbly, wondering what on Earth he had just gotten himself into. She looked at him, amused. “It was nice to meet you, Nephew. Miss Potter.”

The day Draco was due to meet Andromeda, Hermione found herself in Gringotts with her Grandmother. “Why are we here again?”

“Verification purposes. The goblins like to ensure people are who they say they are.”

Hermione hummed, shifting slightly on her seat as she waited in a room she hadn't even been aware the bank had. 

“Madam Potter,” Garlag greeted while walking in. “And you must be the one claiming to be Miss Potter.” Hermione nodded slowly. “Your hand, Miss Potter. I’m going to drip three drops of blood onto this parchment. Let's see what it says.”

Hermione watched with interest as her blood was almost absorbed before lines branched out from the centre. “Interesting,” The goblin murmured.

“What is?” Dorea inquired politely. 

“Were you aware that you were a Dagworth-Granger, Miss Potter?”

“No.” Hermione shook her head, looking startled.

“Your father was a squib. Interestingly, so was your mother. A Nott, according to this. You are, of course, now a Potter. Sibling adoption?”

“I… yes.” Hermione frowned, not quite able to process that.

“Unusual, Miss Potter, unusual. There is no current Heir to the Dagworth-Granger line. You could claim it. You could also claim addition to the Nott line.”

“Why would I want to?” Hermione asked sharply.

The Goblin looked at her shrewdly, “Because… any children of the line would come to you if required. The Nott line consists of the Head and his wife. If he were to have children who needed a home…”

Hermione froze. “What would my relation to them be?” she asked curiously. 

“Cousin.”

“Thaddeus Nott is my Uncle?”

“Yes. Your mother was his sister, according to your blood. Unusual for the Notts to let a squib live.”

She shuddered. “If… if I needed to claim it later, could I?”

“Yes,” he nodded.

“Would I be notified?”

“You could be if you asked.”

She nodded slowly. “I wish to be notified if Theodore… Thaddeus’ children ever need me.”

Garlag nodded. “Very well, Miss Potter. The Dagworth Granger line?”

She sighed. “Is there… a benefit to claiming it?”

“The vaults,” the goblin replied. “There are houses which might be of interest.”

“I need to speak with Draco,” she said finally. “If I was to ask for your advice, would you give it?”

The goblin grinned. “Yes. It is in our interests to have the vaults maintained.

She hummed. “You think I should claim it?”

“After your… treasure hunt, yes. In the meantime, perhaps you’ll permit me to look over it and rid the estate from any lapsed or poorly performing investments.”

She nodded. “Of course, Garlag. Are there… Hector Dagworth Granger was a renowned pioneer. Are there likely to be books?”

“I do not know,” the goblin replied slowly. “Perhaps.”

“Something to consider after my treasure hunt, I suppose. On that note, we brought one. I’ve been told you're keeping them safe until the correct time?”

“We are, Miss Potter,” he agreed. Silently, she handed over the box. 

“Might I have the box back once you’ve stored it? It… cancels out the effects, and there's a team that’s hopefully going to collect another one tomorrow.”

“Very well,” he agreed. “I shall be back.”

“Do you think you’ll need to take custody of your cousin?” Dorea asked into the silence. 

“Perhaps. Assuming we capture Nott. In our timeline, Theodore Nott was in our year. Draco told me his mother died in childbirth. If it happens again, I’d like him to be safe. Apparently he’s family, but even if he wasn't….”

Dorea hummed, wrapping her arm around her granddaughter. “You're a good woman, my girl.”

Chapter Text

“How was tea with Andromeda?”

“Good,” Draco replied slowly. “Strange. She brought her daughter. Funny little thing. I’m to bring you next time. I got a proper scolding for not making her aware of who you were to me when you met.”

Hermione laughed. “Yes, I can imagine. Andy always was a force to be reckoned with.”

He hummed. “She wants an invite to the wedding.”

“And that's an issue?” she checked. 

“No. Just… strange. I never knew her. Not like you did, and Dora… gods Princess, she's tiny! Still as insane, but tiny. The last time I saw her….”

Hermione shuddered as he trailed off. “It won't happen,” Hermione whispered. “It won't.”

He nodded, his face pensive. “I miss her. I… don't think I expected to, but I do.”

“You're allowed to, Draco. It… it's like living with ghosts sometimes and that's… that's hard.”

“It hasn't been, not really. I knew Lupin and Sirius, obviously, and Mother was hard. Severus… Severus is enough like himself that sometimes I forget. But Dora… she was the only one who wasn't suspicious when Severus first brought me. Did you know that? She still interrogated me about my intentions, but she told me that no one could fake the look in my eyes when I looked at you. So she trusted I was safe. I spent… hours with her working out how to win everyone else over.”

“I remember,” she replied softly, dropping her head to his shoulder. “It won't be the same, but you’ll have more time this time round. Think of all the things you can teach her.”

Draco snorted, before he brightened slightly. “I get to repeat her sex talk.”

Hermione's head shot up as she looked at him incredulously. “Oh, my gods. You cannot be serious!”

“I am! It was so fucking awkward, Princess. And this time… this time I get to embarrass her! I’m going to have to speak to Sirius… and probably Severus. He’ll be her teacher. She’ll be mortified!”

“You are far too happy about this,” she muttered. 

He laughed. “Got to have goals, Princess.”

“Arse,” she muttered.

“Tell me about your day,” he replied, instead of rising to the bait. She froze. “Princess?”

“I… they did the verification .”

“Uhuh?”

“My parents were squibs,” Hermione sighed. 

“Is this where you tell me we’re related, Princess? Because I’m going to be honest, I’m half Black. I could justify it.”

She swivelled to look at him, her jaw dropping before she began to laugh. He joined her, the hysteria hitting quickly as they laughed until they were gasping. “Fuck. That's… Jesus Draco, you can't say things like that!”

“I can,” he retorted, grinning at her. “Did you miss me saying I was a Black?”

She shook her head at him. “No, we’re not related.” 

He shrugged. “Fair enough. What came back?”

“Dad was a Dagworth-Granger. I am currently the only one. Mum… Mum was a Nott.”

“A Nott?” he repeated.

“Squib sister of Thaddeus Nott, Death eater extraordinaire.”

“Fuck,” he hissed.

“If things happen as they did… we need a plan for Theo. I… the goblins are keeping an eye on the situation. I’ll be informed if I’m needed.”

“You intend to take him?” 

“What else would we do?” she asked. “I… I had wondered though… he was your friend. It would be strange to become his dad.”

“Yes,” he agreed slowly. 

“What do you think of having a conversation with Sirius and Remus? If we need to.”

Draco let out a long breath. “I… Salazar, I could see that actually.”

She nodded. “Me too. If they say no though, Draco, we’ll need to get over the strangeness. I won't have him go somewhere else.”

He nodded absentmindedly, dropping a kiss onto her head as he considered that. “I love you, Princess. Lets… let's hope they go for it because Merlin knows there's strange and then there's becoming the dad of one of your friends strange.”

She snorted but did not disagree.

“The ring is cursed. Please, remember the ring is cursed,” Hermione begged, hating the unsettling feeling of being left behind. 

Amelia looked at her, amused. “We understand, Hermione,” she soothed. “I promise we’ll be careful. We’re taking Lolly and Socks. Everyone's been warned. It's going to be fine.”

Hermione nodded unhappily, looking over at the tiny elves holding on to Edgar and Frank's hands. Seconds later they were all gone. 

“It's going to be fine,” Sirius soothed. 

“Is it?” she muttered. “I fucking hate this, Pads. I don't know what to do.”

“I know,” he sighed. “You’re shite at hiding it.”

She snorted. “It was always us, Pads. We were always right in the middle and this feeling…. I owe you an apology.”

“What?” he asked, startled.

“I owe you an apology. I… I was so fucking angry with you after what happened at the Ministry. You had one job. Stay put; stay alive. And you didn't. I… I think I get it now, so I’m sorry.”

His face twisted in a wry grin. “Well thanks, I guess, Kitten. I’m not… quite sure what to say to that.”

She rolled her eyes. “Have you ever thought about kids, Pads?”

“What? Are you trying to throw me today, Kitten?”

“No. I ah… look, I might gain custody of a family member. I don't know, but… he was one of Draco's friends and we can't… it would be odd….”

Sirius froze. “And you’d just given them to me?”

“You and Remus.”

“Gods, Kitten!” he breathed, hugging her tightly. 

“It might not happen but… if it does….”

“Yes! Gods, yes! Maybe we should organise those crups just in case….”

“Padfoot! Sirius! It might not… we don't know for sure what will happen.”

“I know, I know! But… an actual kid… what family, Kitten?”

“Oh… Mum was Thaddeus Nott's squib sister apparently.”

“Merlin, kitten. That's…”

“Fucking insane, yes. Dad was a Dagworth-Granger, but at least there are no minor relatives likely to need a home from his side.”

Sirius barked out a laugh. “Bloody hell, Kitten. You don't do anything by halves do you?”

“Apparently not.”

“When… when are you likely to know?”

She shrugged. “I… I think Theo was born in September or maybe early October. I remember his birthday not being far from mine. In our timeline, his mother died in childbirth and he grew up with his father. If that happens… we still have Thaddeus to contend with.”

Sirius hummed. “Not long then,” he murmured. “Can I… can I speak to Remus?”

“What? Of course, Pads!”

“Now?” he checked. 

Rolling her eyes, she waved him off, heading back towards the library where she knew Charlus often hid from the madness.

Alice crept up to the dilapidated house, Hermione's warnings ringing in her ears. By the looks on everyone else's faces, they were experiencing the same thing. “Right. Eyes open and be bloody careful. I do not want to be the one that tells Hermione we ignored her warnings. She's bloody terrifying.”

Frank snorted. “She’s not that bad!”

“Trained with her, have you?”Alice shot back. 

Amelia frowned. “Trained with her?”

“She wanted to ensure her duelling stayed sharp. We’ve been training in the garden. She’s bloody brutal. I think Moody is close to begging her to join the Aurory.”

Amelia looked momentarily startled. “Right… I… I thought she had to limit her magic in order to heal?”

“Some days, but she said she wasn't going to die in the last battle because she’d become complacent.”

“Sensible,” Edgar muttered as he began casting over the crumbling building.

“Real upmarket place, this,” Amelia commented, casting her eye over it.

“If ever there was an argument against pureblood inbreeding,” Frank murmured. 

The rest of them snorted. “Several wards,” Edgar announced. “If Amy helps me take down the first one, can you two be ready for the second? It's just a simple muggle-repellant. They get nastier after that, but we’ll need to take it one at a time.”

“Of course,” Alice murmured, her wand ready as Frank scanned the area.

Over an hour later, the wards were finally down and all of them were sweaty and tired. “He really does have a vivid imagination for curses,” Frank muttered. 

“Doesn't bode well for what's inside the house,” Amelia agreed.

“No, so let's be careful. I know we were going to split up, but based on that I think we should stay together,” Edgar voiced as they crept forward and into the shack. Slowly, they looked around the dirty room, casting as they went.

“Floorboard,” Alice muttered as a reading flared.

Silently, Amelia nodded, advancing on the area cautiously. “I’ll lift.” Edgar kept his voice even, trying not to betray how unsettled he felt. “Lolly, Socks, try and keep us from doing anything stupid.”

“Ofs course,” Socks agreed, looking at him as if he were an idiot. “Socks has had plenty of practice with Master Frank.”

“Alright, on three. I’d suggest levitating if you can,” Amelia commanded, hiding her grin from the tiny elf.

The room felt wrong, an oppressive feeling of despair settling over them the moment the floorboard was lifted. Shakily, Frank levitated the ring out. Immediately the whispers started, driving all rational thought from their minds. 

“Master Frank! Master Frank,” Lolly called as Frank reached for it at the same time as the other three. All of them bounced off the shield she had cast.

“Lolly?” Alice asked, sounding dazed. 

“That bes being a bad ring!” The elf scolded. “Lolly will bes putting it in the box now!”

All of them looked at each other in horror as the tiny elf slammed the lid shut.

“Sweet Merlin,” Frank moaned. “I… I think we owe Hermione an apology for being short with her for her repeated warnings.”

Pale and shaken, the others nodded their agreement. “Let's get this to the goblins,” Amelia muttered. 

“After we reset the wards,” Edgar commanded. “Let's not make it easy for him to notice it's missing.”

Silently the others agreed, traipsing out to reset the wards they dismantled before Amelia took the ring to the goblins, almost crying in relief once she was rid of it.

“Ah, Severus. Sit… sit.” 

Severus drew up his shields, desperate to get this meeting over with as soon as possible. He didn't want to be here. He wanted to be back at Potter Manor, with Hermione to tease, Draco to discuss potions with, and Lily to talk to. Gods, he'd even take Potter, Black, and Lupin. He'd never admit it out loud, but they weren't anywhere near as bad as he'd believed for the entirety of his Hogwarts years. Helping Lily plan her wedding to Potter would be miles better than this. Hell, helping Black plan his wedding would be better than this. He sat down silently, looking at the man who had promised him acceptance, acceptance that he’d found thanks to a Lucius lookalike and a fluffy-haired harpy. That acceptance didn't come with conditions, conditions like murder and torturous potions.

“Have you found a potion that works for my needs?” his master asked silkily. 

“I think so. I am waiting on ingredients to arrive. Several are harder to find. I should have a first batch ready for testing within a month.”

The Dark Lord looked at him shrewdly. “You are confident it will do everything I require?”

“No,” Severus responded bluntly, hoping he wouldn’t be cursed for it. “I am confident that once I’ve brewed the potions closest to what you desire I will have a starting point to experiment with. There is no potion that I can find that does everything you require, my Lord. I will need to adjust several and I cannot do that without brewing the originals.”

“I see,” he murmured. “You believe you can do this, Severus? I do not tolerate failure.”

“Of course my Lord. Yes, I am confident with some experimentation I will be able to create what you need.”

“See that you do, Severus,” he hissed. “Now, what information do you have for me regarding the Order?”

Severus took a moment to compose himself. “They are… struggling to agree on the correct course of action, My Lord.”

“Oh?”

“One fraction supports Dumbledore and his stance of defence rather than offence. Another wishes to be more proactive. They are considering capturing someone for information.”

“Who?”

“They had not decided. Lucius was mentioned. Thoros, Evan. They want someone prominent.”

“I see. You will let me know if they reach a decision. In the meantime, I will tell my faithful to be careful. And Severus? If I find your withholding information, death will be a mercy I will make you beg for.”

“Of course, my Lord,” he murmured, hoping he didn’t pick up on how hard his heart was hammering in his chest.

Draco fidgeted in his unfamiliar body as he waited on his mother. Regulus had been amused watching him morph into his clone, but the changes made Draco feel ill at ease. Regulus was shorter and currently in much better health. It had been jarring to lose some of the aches he’d learned to live with. Repeated curses and several months of limited food left their mark, even after healing. Regulus had not had to live through that.

“I… I wasn't sure you’d come,” Narcissa voiced softly, sitting down opposite him. 

“I nearly didn't,” he admitted. “This is… strange. Hermione encouraged it.”

Narcissa hummed. “You love her.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “I cannot imagine my life without her. I… I could have chosen differently, not chosen her.”

“But you wouldn't.”

“No,” he agreed softly. “It feels almost wrong to say given how much we’ve lost, but I honestly can't imagine how empty my life would be if I'd made different choices.”

“I didn't approve.” 

“No, you did not,” Draco agreed.

Narcissa sighed. “Do you still hate me?”

“Honestly? Yes, I think I do,” he replied bluntly, not able to sugar coat it given his last interaction with his mother in his original timeline.

She flinched. “I see.”

“No,” he sighed. “You don't. I know that you haven't done any of what she did. And… when I was little, you were the best mother. You helped keep me as free from Father's expectations as you could. You gave me a childhood where it was possible, but… you also watched as I was handed over to Voldemort. You knew he was back. You knew what he had done in this war and you didn't flee. I told you about how you watched as Hermione was tortured on our drawing room floor. You did not contradict Aunt Bella when she demanded that I watch. You knew who she was to me and you would have made me watch as she was tortured and then handed to Greyback in front of me. So yes… I do hate you. You… died to let us escape, but only after I had incapacitated Lucius. Your views, they saw me tortured in my own home, they saw me poisoned at our dinner table, and they allowed an insane dictator to move in. They allowed a rabid werewolf constant access to our home and the people in it. Those views turned our home into somewhere unsafe, somewhere I hated. There were no boundaries and it can hardly be too much of a jump for you to imagine the types of people involved. We were made to watch as our home was turned into nothing more than a place where evil lived, torture happened daily, and more people, muggles, muggleborns, half-bloods, purebloods, he didn't care, died than I will ever be able to count. Most of them died screaming. I don't think there is a room downstairs that isn't tainted for me. I see you and I see her… and logically I know you're not her yet, but I also know that if nothing changes, you will be. And I don't think I can watch you raise whatever child you have the way that you raised me, with expectations and rules and pointless prejudice.”

“What would you have me do?” she asked softly. “You're my son. I… magic knows.”

“So Aunt Dorea said,” he agreed.

“Tell me what I can do.”

“Stop this! Change! Get to know the people you taught me to hate! Help us get rid of Him .”

“How?” she asked softly, her face pale. The enormity of what this boy… her son, was asking for had not escaped her. Those views, the belief that the Dark Lord was right, were difficult to ignore after years of indoctrination, but she couldn’t bear to see the barely concealed flashes of loathing warring with his clear want to have her in his life. And she’d be lying if she said she couldn’t understand. What on earth had happened to make her willingly force her child to watch their partner be tortured? It didn’t make sense.

“There's a diary,” Draco began slowly, “hidden somewhere in the house. Probably in Father or Grandfather's study. We need it.”

“Why?” Narcissa asked. 

“I don't feel comfortable answering that,” he admitted softly. “I want to trust you.”

“But you don't,” she sighed, her shoulders slumping in defeat.

“No. No, I don't. I’ve seen how far you're willing to go to keep that monster in power.”

Narcissa sighed again. She couldn’t blame him, not really. “Very well. I will… look. What will the consequences be if I’m caught?”

“Death,” Draco replied bluntly. “Father has no idea what it is. I have no idea if Grandfather does. I can only assume not or Father would have made some very different choices in my original timeline. But if He finds out, your death won't be pleasant.”

Narcissa paled. “It's that important?”

“Yes. Regulus was going to put Father to sleep.”

“It's not a bad idea,” Narcissa mused. “Do you know what protections are in place?”

“No,” Draco sighed. “It's… we have several items to find. This is the one we know the least about.”

“I will do this,” Narcissa declared, pinning him with a look that instantly transported him to his childhood years. “But in return, I want to get to know you. Weekly visits. And I want an invite to your wedding.”

“Fine,” Draco agreed slowly. “But we need to find somewhere private to meet. I expect you to get to know Hermione too. I’ll speak to Aunt Dorea about the wedding.”

Narcissa nodded. “I can do that. She seems… protective.”

Draco snorted. “Everyone we loved died. Are you surprised?”

She flinched. “Not when you put it like that.”

Chapter Text

“Happy birthday, Princess,” Draco whispered, the light only just beginning to appear behind the curtains.

“Mmm. Good morning,” she murmured, turning to face him. 

“Isn't it?” he grinned. “Everyone’s still sleeping….”

“So they are,” she agreed. 

“So shall we make the most of it?”

“Yes, I’ve been meaning to finish that book I was reading.”

“Witch!” he growled, pouncing on her as she giggled.

They arrived downstairs in time for breakfast to find James and Sirius sitting groggily at the table, staring into cups of coffee like it held all the answers with Remus beside them looking amused.

“You look… very relaxed this morning,” he commented lightly with a grin that only widened when both Sirius and James’ heads snapped up. 

“Why do you look so relaxed, Kitten?” Sirius asked with an edge to his voice. 

Hermione rolled her eyes, moving to pour coffee. “Can't I just have had a good night's sleep for once?”

“No,” James growled before turning to look at Draco. “Tell me you have not defiled my daughter?”

“Defiled?” Hermione asked, whirling around to face him before Draco could open his mouth. 

“I mean, ah… god damn it, Hermione! You're meant to wait for marriage and I’m meant to pretend the stork brought your babies!”

Hermione snorted before looking at him incredulously. “Like you, you mean? Tell me, big brother… are you heading into your wedding night pure?”

James spluttered, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like “that's not the bloody point.”

“I think you’ll find it is,” Hermione replied pointedly. “And as for you, you fucking hypocrite, we all know you're intimately familiar with the inside of every bloody broom cupboard in Hogwarts.” Sirius flushed. “Exactly,” she finished triumphantly. “Try to embarrass me again and I’ll give you an explicit fucking run down of exactly why I'm so relaxed.”

Both Sirius and James turned green as Draco fled to contain his laughter, knowing it wasn't wise to rile them further.

“No need for that, Kitten,” Sirius muttered. 

“Then fuck off with your sexist shite.”

Grinning, Remus turned back to her. “Happy birthday, Love. You've definitely made things more entertaining around here.”

She rolled her eyes. “Birthday?” James yelped. “Since when!”

Hermione's eyebrows rose. “Since always?” 

“Forget our daughter's birthday?” Lily asked with amusement as she walked into the room. “Happy birthday, Hermione. This is from your father and me.”

Hermione shot her an exasperated look. “I thought you weren’t encouraging him,” she whined. 

“But you make it too easy,” Lilly grinned. “Now open your present.”

“Yes, Mum,” she groused, making them laugh. 

“See,” Lily grinned. “You’re getting the hang of it.” 

Hermione rolled her eyes, opening the present. Inside was a silver bracelet covered in charms. “Oh,” Hermione whispered, running a finger over it. The charms matched her tattoo, along with a dragon, a stag, a grim, a doe, a wolf, a cauldron, and the Potter crest. 

“Do you like it?” Lily asked hesitantly, as Hermione simply stared at it. 

She nodded silently before throwing herself at Lily, squeezing her tightly. 

“Having a good birthday, little Puff?” Severus asked, sitting down next to her, both of them watching with amusement as Regulus shifted, his eyes darting around the pub. 

“He's never been in the muggle world before, has he?”

“Nope,” Severus grinned. “He’ll be fine. It's good for him… expanding his horizons.”

Hermione snorted. “He looks ready to bolt,” she replied pointedly.

“He does. He won't though. His brother would never let him live it down.”

Hermione laughed, accepting the drink Sirius set down in front of her. “Now… who’s up for a game!” he grinned. 

All of them groaned. “No, Sirius,” Remus begged. “Please, no!”

Sirius pouted. “You're no fun.”

Two hours later, after a game of spin the bottle that resulted in them all knowing far more than any of them wanted to about the rest of the group, Hermione lounged back against Draco. 

“Alright there, Princess?”

“I think I might be drunk,” she admitted seriously. 

He looked at her, attempting to stifle his smile. “Really, Princess? I’d never have guessed.”

“You're making fun of me.”

“Never,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss her

“Oi!” James interrupted, slurring slightly. “Hands of my… my… Hermione!”

Lily rolled her eyes. “Leave them be. We can see them… They are… chap… chap….”

She looked up in confusion. 

“Chaperoned?” Severus suggested with a laugh. 

“Yes!” she declared. “That!”

“Your head is going to be so sore in the morning,” Severus laughed.

Hermione squinted at him. “Why are you sober?”

“Because I am not an idiot and switched to water ages ago.”

“Oh,” she frowned. “I should have done that.”

He snorted. “It's your birthday, Little Puff. I’d say you're allowed.”

“Who wants another drink!” Sirius shouted, interrupting them.

Severus groaned as all of the rest of them agreed, silently hoping he had enough hangover cures to do them all.

Meet me at Severus’. 1 hour.

Draco stared at the note in his hand, automatically recognising the writing. 

“You look worried,” Lily mused, coming to stand beside him.

“It's from my mother,” he murmured. “She wants to meet.”

“And that worries you because?”

“Because I have no idea what side she's truly on,” he admitted reluctantly.

“I see,” Lily murmured. “Go to Sev’s early and cast wards. He won't let anything happen to you. Hermione would murder him. Slowly.``

Draco huffed out a laugh. “True.”

“I’ve never seen him as comfortable with anyone as he is with her.” 

Draco turned sharply to look at her. “And that bothers you?” he hedged.

“No,'' Lily sighed. “I just wonder if I could have done things differently. If maybe I had, he'd not have chosen the path he did. He regrets it, obviously. I just wish he hadn't felt like he had no other choice.”

Draco sighed. “Hermione is… when she loves you, she loves wholeheartedly. There are no half measures. Weasley was an arse more times than I could count and she’d still have taken an Avada for him. Severus needed… needs that. She adores him, flaws and all. This Severus doesn't have half as much to forgive, but she adored the older one just as much. He's never had that, not really. He… well, you know what his home life was like. You know what it was like at school. He told me once when he was stupidly drunk that she was the first person to ever tell him that she loved him. She was the first person since you to hug him. We were just leaving for summer after fourth year, so almost eighteen years? She refused to back down to his snarling. Gods, even I wouldn't have dared to speak to him the way she did. He liked that she wasn't scared of him. He liked that she challenged him and he just… loved her. More than I think he's ever loved anyone. She was the family he never had. There is residual magic because of the godparent bond. We both feel it. I don't know if he feels connected to her because of that bond to me or whether they had their own weird little bond going on that none of us were aware of. He’s admitted he feels something when he's with her, but none of us are sure what it is. I’m sure both of them will research the fuck out of it once we have a minute to breathe. Neither of them does well with not knowing.”

“It doesn't… you don't wonder…”

“If she’ll leave me for him?” Draco looked amused at Lily's flushed face. “No. It's not… they don't have that kind of relationship. If I’d ever considered being worried, it would have been with our Severus, not this one.”

“What? Why?” 

Draco snorted. “All those books…. If she’d ever properly considered it, she’d have left me for him in a heartbeat. Books, knowledge, a willingness to teach her? I’m very lucky that by the time she got to know him properly, she already loved me.”

Lily's jaw dropped. “How can you be so calm about it! I think I'd want to hurt someone if I seriously thought James could leave me for someone else!”

Draco outright laughed. “Because I know she's only ever seen him as her professor and eventually as family. I know that even now, for all he's younger, he's like that irritating older brother she adores. I’ve questioned many things, but not once has it been whether she loves me. Whether she should love me, perhaps. But not that she does.”

Lily nodded slowly. “It's odd seeing your version of him. Jarring,” she admitted. “He's… he touches her, willingly. Hugs her without being coerced. I’m… glad he had her. Has her now. He deserves someone who loves him hard.”

“Yes, he does. I believe Hermione was going to speak to you about bullying him into dating when all this is over.”

Lily's eyes lit up. “Is she really? Gods! Yes! We should absolutely do that!”

“And that is my cue to leave,” Draco muttered. 

“Oh, I’m going to find Hermione! We can begin organising a list!”

Draco snorted, heading for the floo. Poor Severus had no idea what was coming if they survived this war.

He found his godfather in his lab muttering curses at a caldron with contents that were apparently not behaving the way he wanted them to. Draco didn't dare speak until Severus vanished them with a snarl.

“Bad day?”

Severus whirled round, his wand out. “When the fuck did you get here!”

“Hello to you too, Uncle Severus.”

Severus glowered. “No.”

Laughing, Draco held up his hands in supplication. “Mother is coming here, apparently. She demanded I meet with her…. Lily suggested I ask for your help in warding the room against anything nefarious.”

“Very well,” Severus sighed. “It wasn't going to plan anyway.”

“So I see. Anything I can help with?” 

Severus shuddered. “No. I don't even want to be doing it.”

“Ah. This is the potion for his lordship?”

“Part of it,” Severus allowed. “It’ll take combining several, I think.

“What does he want it to do?”

“Make the drinker relive their worst memories as if they are living them again. He wants them to be unable to determine memory from reality. He also, for some reason, wants them to have an unquenchable thirst.”

“The draught of despair,” Draco muttered.

“What?” Severus asked sharply

“You need to succeed. We won't get the last Horcrux until you do.”

“You want me to create this monstrosity?” Severus asked incredulously.

“Yes. We need you to. You did before.”

Severus paled dramatically. “Fuck,” he hissed. “You're sure?”

“Unfortunately,” Draco winced. “Want a hand?”

Severus let out a long breath. “You promise this is necessary?”

“Yes. He uses it to hide a Horcrux in. You have to drink the potion to reach it. The lake is surrounded by inferi and you cannot conjure water. The boat only allows for one adult wizard.”

“Bloody fucking hell!” Severus snarled. “Yes. Yes, I want help. We need that last one, but fuck it all if I don't fucking want to!”

“No,” Draco allowed. “I imagine you don't. But we need it to end this, so after whatever mother has planned, I’ll help. I gather Lily was good at potions? Hermione is as well. The sooner this is done the better.”

“I don't want either of them anywhere fucking near this!”

“And neither of them will thank you for that. Let them help. We need this done.”

“Fine,” he snarled. “Fucking fine.”

Wincing, Draco followed after him as he swept from the room in a flurry of robes.

“Draco.” Narcissa’s eyes raked over him. “You look… healthier than the last time I saw you.”

“Yes. The healer demanded I eat more. I’m trying to do as I’m told.”

She hummed. “Good. It's barely been a month and you look much better. You won't look ill in your wedding pictures.”

Draco blinked as if only just realising that was a concern. “Ah, no,” he agreed with a frown. “Aunt Dorea says you can come if you agree to be polyjuiced and escorted by an elf at all times.”

Narcissa pulled a face. “Very well.”

“They'll pick you up from the manor.

“Oh. When?”

“Fourth of next month. Around two.”

She hummed. “I see. Well then, consider this an early wedding gift.” He frowned as she thrust a bag at him, casting over it to see if he could determine what it was. “Oh for Circe's sake, it's a containment bag! You won't get a reading on it.”

“What would you need to give me in a containment bag?” he asked slowly. 

“What did you ask for?” she shot back. “Regulus was too jumpy. I forbid him to attempt anything last time he was at the manor. He would have given the game away.”

“I know. He said,” Draco replied wryly. He gingerly opened the bag, feeling a shudder go through him at the sight of the diary that had overshadowed everything else in his second year. It looked utterly innocent.

“Thank you,” he muttered. 

“You're welcome,” she responded primly. “I ah… I also needed you to know. I’m pregnant.”

“Pregnant?” Draco repeated numbly.

“Yes. We ah… we don't know what we’re having yet. I… I don't want to assume. But we’re considering Scorpius for a boy…. Carina for a girl.”

“I see,” he mumbled, his mind reeling. “When do you find out?”

“It's… early days. I wouldn't even have mentioned it had it not been for… well, you.” Narcissa shifted uncomfortably. “We’ve had so many… disappointments. If this one… well hopefully we’ll find out just before Christmas.” Draco nodded, not sure what to say. “I’ll ah… see you at the wedding, Draco,” Narcissa murmured, standing to go. 

Shooting him a look of concern, Severus took the diary from him, stepping through the floo to Potter manor. Hermione returned with him, having left the diary for Dorea to take to the goblins. 

“Draco?” she called softly, sighing when he didn't move before moving to sit beside him, taking his hands in hers. “Want to talk about it, my dragon?”

“She’s… she's pregnant.”

“I know.”

“I… Fuck. She's pregnant. And… she's… she's going to have a baby.”

“Yes, sweetheart, she is,” Hermione agreed gently.

He looked up at her, utterly heartbroken. “She's not my mother, Princess. My mother is dead.”

“Oh, Draco,” Hermione sighed, wrapping her arms around him as he seemed to break apart, knowing there was absolutely nothing she could say. His mother was dead. This Narcissa was not her. “Let's get you home, sweetheart,” she murmured once he was calm. 

Numbly he followed her through the floo, not protesting when she arranged them on the bed so her tiny frame was wrapped around him. 

“I wish I could make it better,” she whispered. He tightened his hold on the arm bracketing his waist. 

“You do. Just… stay with me.”

“Always, sweetheart. You're stuck with me.”

“Promise?” he asked quietly, sounding more vulnerable than Hermione had ever heard him.

“Promise,” she agreed, as she hugged him tightly.

“Did you know that Madam Umbridge has been secretly sleeping with Minister Fawley and arranging for him to sign some delightful anti-being's laws?”

Dorea turned slowly to face Fabian. “And how would you know that?”

“Ah, we’ve not been cleared for active duty yet. We’re still on paperwork. It's amazing what you hear in the office.”

“I see,” Dorea murmured. “And can it be proven?”

“No.”

She hummed. “Thank you for letting me know.” Fabian watched her, a small worried frown creasing his face. The witch was planning something. 

“Hermione, darling, would you like to accompany me to the Ministry today?” Hermione frowned up at her grandmother. It had been over a week since Draco’s meeting with Narcissa and Draco was still struggling. They hadn’t left the Manor. 

“I… not really. Draco’s still… grieving.”

Dorea hummed. “I’ll send Remus to talk with him. You really do want to escort me, darling.”

“Alright,” Hermione agreed slowly. “Do I need to dress up?”

“The blue robes, dear. Have Trixie fix your hair. We leave in an hour.”

Frowning, Hermione moved to comply, wondering what the fuck was going on.

“Grandmother, why are we here?” Hermione asked as they reached the Ministry. 

“You’ll see.” She smiled serenely as they handed their wands to the security witch. 

They exited the lift at level two, walking briskly towards the Improper Use of Magic office. “Madam Umbridge please,” Dorea smiled at the receptionist.

“Do you have an appointment, Madam….”

“Oh. Potter. And no, we do not, but my granddaughter and I really do wish to speak to her. Are you sure you can't squeeze us in? I’d be so grateful.”

The witch sighed, just as Amelia appeared. “Dorea! Hermione! What are you doing here?”

“Oh, we were just trying to arrange to speak to Madam Umbridge.”

Amelia froze. “Oh?”

Dorea waved her hand carelessly with a smile. “Nothing to worry about dear, although you're welcome to join us.”

The receptionist relaxed at that statement. If Amelia knew them they were likely safe enough. 

“Hello, Delores.” Dorea's smile was shark-like as she stepped into the small office. Kittens on plates lined the walls making her grimmace slightly in distaste before she rearranged her face into a more pleasant mask again.

“Do I know you?” Delores Umbridge looked up, taking in the regal, well-dressed woman in front of her. At her side was a girl who was equally as well dressed but whose expression made her nervous. Amelia Bones was leaning against the wall watching with interest.

“Oh no, I don't imagine you do. Dorea Potter, my granddaughter Hermione. We're here to have a little chat.”

“Oh?”

“You see, I heard you're making things rather difficult for my soon-to-be son-in-law. Your Uncle Sirius will propose soon, dear, won't he?”

Hermione arched a brow at her grandmother’s phrasing before deciding to go with it. “Of course, he will,” she scoffed. “He wants those crups.”

“Indeed,” Dorea agreed with a slight laugh. “Now. We are going to have a chat about those laws, Delores, and what you're going to do about them. I’ll give you a clue. You're going to retract every single anti-werewolf law you've had passed and then you're going to leave here. Or I… or more likely my granddaughter, is going to make things rather difficult for you. She's better at it, you see… less squeamish. Although, I was a Black, and if you force the issue I will, of course, rise to the occasion.”

Amelia almost snorted as Dorea made it sound like she genuinely regretted what they were about to do. 

“You cannot threaten me!” Delores spluttered.

Hermione laughed. It was cold and unsettling. “Oh those weren't threats,” she spoke softly, causing the hairs on the back of Delores' neck to stand on end. There was something dangerous about this witch. “If I was going to threaten you, I would begin by detailing exactly what I would like to do to you. It begins with locking you in a room with your greatest fear… I’d probably throw in some dementors. You like those, don't you Delores? Maybe, I'd arrange for a little trip to Azkaban… after I’ve snapped your wand of course. Maybe… just maybe… I’d have you write lines until the message… sinks in. ‘I must not be such a heinous bitch’ might work. I wonder how long it would take? Ten lines… twenty… one hundred…. I’ve got time. Of course, you’d need to use my quill… No ink required.”

Delores paled, the witch's voice had never risen above her original whisper, but something in the way she spoke left her with no doubt that she’d follow through on her threats. “A blood quill! Those are illegal!” she spluttered eventually

“I know,” Hermione agreed, looking utterly unconcerned. 

“You are law enforcement!” She looked at Amelia. “Stop this! These women are clearly insane!”

“I have no idea what you're talking about, Delores.”

Delores paled. “You cannot be serious.”

“Oh, but we are,” Hermione smiled, showing all her teeth. 

“Now, we appear to have veered off topic,” Dorea chided, looking at Hermione. “It's time to sort that legislation.”

Delores whimpered as Hermione trained her wand on her. “It's up to you,” she stated conversationally. “Of course, if you don't like my grandmother's plan, I’m more than willing to enact mine. I must admit I like it much, much better.”

Delores had all of the anti- werewolf laws retracted by the end of the day. She had left the Ministry by the end of the week. No one had any idea where she had gone. 

“Tell me you didn't actually murder her?” Charlus asked his wife finally. 

“Don't be absurd,” Dorea scoffed. 

“Dorea!” Charlus exclaimed, watching her face carefully. “Tell me you didn't let Hermione murder her?”

“What do you take me for? We simply… left her with an uncontrollable urge to travel and maintain an unremarkable existence.”

“Really?” he asked, not believing her for a second.

“Really!'' She insisted. He didn't need to know that Hermione had left her in a room with a boggart for over an hour until the woman had been terrified out of her mind and willing to agree to anything. After all, mind modification was much easier when the participant was willing. And he definitely didn't need to know that Hermione had used one of the woman's own blood quills against her. It wouldn't scar. No one would ever know. No… Charlus was too soft-hearted sometimes. He wouldn't approve. But she was a Black, and no one got away with harming her family.

Chapter Text

“I can't believe it's today,” Lily murmured, taking a deep breath as she adjusted the veil on her head. 

“Me either,” Hermione agreed. All those nights where this had been talked about, all those dreams, and finally, it was here. And gods if she didn't desperately want to cry. In all of those dreams, her father had walked her down the aisle. Her mother and Mrs. Weasley would have bickered about seating plans and venues. The twins would have been in charge of fireworks. Neville would have been put in charge of flowers. Ginny and Luna would have been bridesmaids. Harry would have been a man of honour. Ron would have been there, grumbling and checking right up until the last minute that she was really, really sure she wanted to marry the ferret. She missed them like a limb that had been torn off. And in a lot of ways, she supposed it had.

Behind her, Dorea watched her with sad eyes, seeing the conflict on her face and wishing she could alleviate it. Silently, she left the room, walking briskly in search of the only person she thought might actually help. 

“There you are!” Severus jumped at the sound of Dorea's voice. “Oh, don't you look wonderful!” He flushed, not having a clue what to reply. “Now. My granddaughter needs reminding that not everyone she loves is gone.”

Severus flinched. “Is she alright?”

“She’d say yes,” Dorea replied wryly. “But… she's sad. I think… I think she's torn because she wants to marry Draco, but she also wishes they were here.” He nodded. “I’ll send Alice up to distract Lily. Keep her away from Draco, but otherwise… for the love of Merlin just be here for the ceremony.”

He snorted, but headed upstairs, knocking on the door lightly. Lily flung it open. “Oh.”

“Not who you were expecting?” he asked with a smirk. 

“No.”

“You look beautiful, Lils. Potter isn't going to know what hit him.”

Lilly swallowed audibly and nodded, her eyes looking suspiciously glassy. “Thanks, Sev.”

“Now, I’m here to steal Hermione for a few moments, make sure she really wants to marry a Malfoy.”

Lily rolled her eyes gesturing over to where Hermione was staring out the window. “I’ll go and check in with Alice I think.”

Silently, he walked over to where she was staring outside as people milled about. “Happy wedding day, little puff,” he murmured, wrapping an arm around her. “You look stunning. Although Slytherin shoes? What would Minerva say?”

Without saying a word, she turned and buried her face in his chest, her arms banding tightly around his waist. He could feel her shoulders shaking as he squeezed her tighter. “I’ve got you,” he murmured, rocking her slightly where they stood. 

“They were supposed to be here, Severus,” she whispered. 

“Oh, sweetheart, they are.” He felt her knees buckle as the grief overtook her, making him tighten his grip before gently lowering them both to the floor. “It's going to be alright. You're going to marry the love of your life today, surrounded by family. And all of the people that you miss… they're here, little puff. Because they loved you and they wouldn't be anywhere else. Even though you can't see them, they're here.”

“I love you, Severus Snape,” she whispered, instead of commenting on his words. He felt something in his chest constrict. 

“I love you too, Little Puff,” he murmured, trying to hold the tiny woman in his arms together, wondering when he had gotten so lucky for this to be his life. Not her sadness, but her unwavering faith in him. The fact that she loved him was heady and entirely unexpected. Silently he vowed to never do anything to make her question it.

“You should probably do something about your face,” he murmured eventually, an eye on the time. “We wouldn't want to dent the Malfoy ego too much and have Draco thinking you don't want to marry him.”

She snorted, her head still on his chest as they both stared out the window. “The Malfoy ego could do with a dent or two every now and then.”

“True enough,” he agreed with a grin. “But perhaps you don't want your wedding photos immortalising your rather red nose. This is not a Christmas wedding.”

“Arse!” she muttered, finally getting to her feet before looking uncharacteristically serious. “Thank you… for today… for well… I do seem to keep crying on you, don't I? I… I don't think I could have done any of this without you.”

Severus stared back at her, suspiciously glassy-eyed, praying his voice didn't crack. “Any time, Little Puff. It's what family does.”

She nodded slowly, darting forward to hug him tightly before moving to the mirror and attempting to repair the damage her crying had wrought on her face. 

Twenty minutes later, Dorea reappeared at the door. “It's time, love.” 

Hermione took a deep breath, her eyes on her tattooed forearm where her friends were visible through the sheer fabric of her sleeves, always with her, even when she couldn't see them, and took Severus’ arm. Lily and Charlus were waiting at the top of the stairs with Marlene and Alice. 

“You look beautiful, Lily,” Hermione said softly, looking at the radiant redhead who was barely concealing her impatience. 

“So do you,” Lily smiled. “Now, will we get this over with before Sirius has to stun one of them to stop them panicking?”

“My money’s on him already having James in a body bind,” Alice muttered, making the rest of them laugh.

When asked later, Draco couldn't recall any of the specifics of his wedding. He knew that James had made a noise like a whimper because Sirius proceeded to take the piss for months afterwards. He registered that Lily was quite pretty all done up and that Charlus looked slightly tearful. The photos were proof. Somewhere in the back of his mind he also registered that Severus looked equally as emotional, but the surprise was nowhere near as sharp as it should have been. Instead, he focused on the sight he wasn't sure that he’d ever get to see. Hermione was breathtaking. It wasn't the dress, although somewhere he registered that it was lovely. It wasn't the bloody green shoes that almost made him want to laugh as he realised why she’d chosen them. It was her. Just her. The love of his life, the woman he had quite literally survived hell to be with, and it was finally happening. That next step toward those dreams that two naive teenagers discussed in whispers, barely daring to hope that one day they might be reality. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he was exactly where he was supposed to be. 

“I present to you, Mr. and Mrs. James Potter and Mr. and Mrs. Draco Malfoy.”

Hermione turned to look at her husband. Her husband! With something nearing disbelief. “I can't believe we just did that.”

Draco looked down at her and grinned, not sure he had ever felt more at peace. “I love you, Mrs. Malfoy.” 

“I love you too. Husband.”

“Right, enough of that!” Sirius cried. “Dancing! Drinking! Come on! You need to practise before my wedding!”

“Have you asked him yet?” Draco asked pointedly. 

Sirius froze before he grinned. “Good point, cousin. Oi! Moony!” Remus turned to look at him from where he had been talking to James. “Will you marry me?”

“Oh my god,” Hermione groaned, her head thumping into Draco's chest. “Tell me he did not just do that.”

“Sorry sweetheart, but he really did.” Draco grinned, watching as a stunned looking Remus stared back at Sirius as if he'd never seen him before. 

“Moons! Come on! Say something!”

“You're serious?” Remus croaked. 

“Always!” Sirius grinned, rummaging in his pockets. “But in this case…” Silently he held up a ring box. “I mean… I didn't mean to do it today, but Kitten and Draco are just so…sappy! So, marry me Moony, and we’ll adopt some crups and have a way cooler wedding than these four.”

Remus snorted before moving swiftly to stand in front of him. “Yes,” he muttered, leaning in to kiss him, completely ignoring the cheer that went up around them. 

“I think you’ll find I had today on the bet,” James crowed smugly as Lily cuffed the back of his head. 

“I think it's done,” Draco said, sounding exhausted, looking in disgust at the potion in front of them. 

“Yes,” Severus agreed reluctantly. “He’ll want to test it.”

“I’d rather he test it than us.” Draco shuddered. “A purging potion will work?”

“Yes,” Severus sighed. “There's no reason why it shouldn’t, but gods, Hermione's going to murder me for creating this.”

“She won't. She knows what happened originally.”

“The Prewett twins aren't fit enough.”

“No,” Draco agreed. 

“So Potter or Fenwick.”

“Both, I think. Plus elves. Trixie won't let James go without going with him.”

Severus nodded. “Potter’s going to insist,” he sighed. 

“Yes,” Draco agreed. 

“For fucks sake,” Severus muttered. “I need to take it to him. Go home to your wife. Hopefully, he won't dawdle with it and this will be over soon.”

“Good luck,” Draco murmured, watching as he bottled it and swept out of their room.

“My Lord.”

“Severus, I hope this is important.” Severus looked around the room, spotting several of the inner circle milling around. 

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Proceed.”

“I believe I have finished what you requested.”

The Dark Lord's eyes gleamed, sending a shiver down Severus’ spine. “Goyle!” he commanded. “Take the Potion from Severus.” The lumbering form of Dexter Goyle appeared at their side, removing the potion from his hands. “Get me one of the new recruits.”

Severus watched warily as Amycus Carrow walked in apprehensively. The Dark Lord looked amused. It made him want to vomit. He had chosen this, agreed with some of it originally. And now, he’d give just about anything to go back and curse his younger self for being so fucking stupid. 

“I am in need of your assistance, Amycus.”

“Of course my Lord,” the man muttered. 

“Drink this.”

Severus slammed up his occlumency shields tighter than he ever had before as the man dropped and the begging began. Watching the glee on the Dark Lord's face as one of his faithful begged and pleaded through his sobs with demons no one but him could see made his skin crawl. 

“Is there an antidote?” The Dark Lord asked idly after over half an hour.

“Water should lessen the effect,” Severus murmured.

He hummed, leaving another twenty minutes before he demanded Goyle fetch some. If Severus hadn't been unsure before, he would have been after seeing the callous amusement his supposed Lord took in the suffering of one who served him. 

“You have done well, Severus. You may go. Goyle, remove him from my sight.” Modulating his stride so as not to appear to be running, Severus left the room to the sight of Goyle hefting a devastated looking Amycus over his shoulder and forcibly removing him from the room. 

“He's asked for Kreacher!” Regulus burst through the floo.

Sirius froze. “Ok. So we… wait?”

Regulus nodded. “Apparently. I… I told him to come back to me, just as Hermione instructed. So… can I wait here?”

Sirius took in the look of utter terror on his brother's face and nodded. “Of course. I’d say we’ll warn Hermione but… well… she's a bloody newlywed and I’d like not to be scarred for life.”

Regulus snorted. “Thanks for an image I never needed,” he muttered.

Two hours later, a thunderclap of noise indicated Kreacher's arrival. Both Hermione and Regulus jumped to their feet. Regulus’ first thought was that he wanted to vomit. Kreacher was wincing, clearly in pain. His wizened old face was scrunched and wet with tears. He looked awful. Regulus stood back helplessly as Hermione forced a purging potion into him, barely reacting as the elf vomited disgusting smelling green slime for what felt like hours. Remus vanished it at regular intervals at his other side. 

Eventually, his body seemed to go slack and Regulus panicked, thinking that he’d intentionally caused his death. “He's breathing,” Hermione murmured. “He's alright. Just exhausted. Let him sleep for the next day or so and then we’ll make a plan.” 

He walked through the halls, his phoenix flying in front of him to ward off the dementors. It had taken a little bit of persuasion for the guards to let him in, but in the end he had prevailed. 

Silently he waited until the guard opened the cell, taking in the pathetic form of his former student huddled on the bed. 

“Oh, Peter,” Albus sighed. 

Peter shot up. “What are you doing here?” he croaked, his voice hoarse from lack of use. “Are you even real?”

“I assure you I am very real. I came to speak with you, Peter,” he said serenely, knowing he had to do this. The girl was wrong. Peter was one of his, and his choices were never beyond redemption. And if they were? He needed someone to take the fall for the unfortunate accident that was about to befall the girl who had dared to ruin everying. He wondered if perhaps he just needed to wait, surely the Malfoy boy would return to his roots and dispose of her eventually, but he wasn't sure he had the time to spare. He needed a plan, just in case.

“Why?”

“To see if you understand where you were led astray.”

“Led astray?” he sneered. 

“Well yes. You had friends, Peter, good friends. Surely you know that?”

“Come to rub it in before they Kiss me?” the man scowled. “You’re just a hallucination. Piss off.”

“What? No! I do not think you deserve to be Kissed, Peter. Miss Potter was wrong.”

“Who the fuck is Miss Potter?”

“Oh, of course, you won't know. Miss Potter is the adopted daughter of your friend James. She's from the future, you know.” Albus ignored the itching taking over his body, perhaps it was something in the magic of the prison. He really needed Peter to accept what he was saying. Time was of the essence, after all.

“Am I supposed to believe that, old man?”

“It's true.” He frowned slightly as the itching intensified. “Her world was… not as it should have been. But I can't help but grieve for the mistakes she's making this time around. I know that you are not beyond help. Let me help you.”

“What exactly is she trying to do?”

“Kill Tom… She's been hunting his security measures. That, of course, is the right thing. But there was meant to be a prophecy. It would have guaranteed our success if she’d just listened to my input. I understand where I went wrong last time. Of course, she did not, so…”

Peter backed away from him slowly as an intense pain shot through Albus, making him gasp. What the hell was happening? All too late, he remembered that he’d signed the parchment as Hermione had demanded, and hadn't thought to ask what protections she’d put on it. The last thing he heard before the pain engulfed him was the hysterical laughter of Peter Pettigrew. 

James stood with Benjy, Kreacher, and Trixie at the entrance to the cave, taking a moment to prepare himself. Hermione had given them as much information as she could, admitting that it was second-hand. He suddenly felt much older than his years. This was the beginning of the end. The last Horcrux. He needed to be sensible about this. Neither Lily nor Hermione would ever forgive him if they fucked this one up.

“Right,” Benjy spoke with false cheerfulness. “Let's get this over with. Blood wasn't it?” James nodded. “I’ll be doing that then. We both know you're going to fight for the right to get the last one and I won't argue, but Merlin help me Potter, no fucking heroics. I will not be telling your brand fucking new wife or your bloody harpy of a daughter, sister… whatever the fuck label you're going with, that you joined the ranks of his inferi. Am I clear?”

James attempted to grin, but given the look Benjy gave him it must have been more like a grimace. “Right,” he muttered, as the stone wall moved and the cavern was revealed. 

“It feels… oppressive,” Benjy muttered. Silently James nodded, walking inside. 

They found the boat with ease, watching as it rose to the surface. “Trixie,” James commanded quietly. “I must drink that potion. Even if I’m begging you to let me stop, I have to drink it. Am I clear?”

“Yes, Master James.” The tiny elf looked up at him fearfully. 

“Good. You must make me finish it until you can take the necklace out, and you cannot let me touch the water. Do you understand?” She nodded, her eyes wide. “Afterwards, make sure we all get home.” 

He let out a shaky breath, he heard one echo beside him as Benjy watched him settle himself and Trixie into the boat.  

The ride across felt both hours long and far too quick, and he stumbled as he attempted to exit the boat. Taking a breath, James forced himself to calm down. With a shaking hand, he took the first drink of the potion. All too soon, he lost himself in the most intense pain he had ever felt as his insides burned. He wanted to scream, perhaps he was, as he vividly recalled his fear as he saved Snape from Remus. He could see Lily lying in front of a cot, a faceless baby inside it, and knew deep in his bones that despite Hermione's best efforts they hadn't been able to defeat Voldemort. He saw the lifeless bodies of every person he’d ever loved, some of them broken, their screams echoing in his ears alongside his own. He felt more liquid being forced down his throat as every fear he hadn't dared to voice played out behind his eyes as he begged for someone, anyone, to tell him it wasn't real. They wouldn't, he knew, as the visions overwhelmed him. They'd failed. He’d failed. And finally, he understood Hermione's brittleness. 

“James?” He woke to the pale face of his wife, hovering over him. 

“You're not dead!” he rasped, feeling the tears fall down his face and into his hair. 

“No,” she whispered, sounding close to tears herself. “No. I’m right here. You did it. Now sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Promise?” he whispered as the darkness overtook him again before she could answer.

The Order milled around the table, wondering what had prompted this unscheduled meeting. Silently, an uncommonly grave-looking Moody walked in. “Good, you're all here. We’ve two bits of news.”

Immediately the room fell silent, several people reached for the hand of the person next to them as something heavy settled over the room. 

“We have the last Horcrux. The goblins have given us a week's grace to plan a battle. The end is coming.”

“Shouldn't Albus be here for this?” Elphias Dodge queried, looking around the room. 

If possible, Moody looked graver than before. “Aye, he should,” he admitted quietly. “But he won't be.” Alastor turned to look straight at Hermione. “Those were some interesting spells, Madam Malfoy.”

Hermione froze. “Fuck,” she hissed. 

“What?” Charlus demanded, his eyes darting from Hermione to Moody.

“Albus Dumbledore was found in the cell of Peter Pettigrew, or well… what was Albus Dumbledore. He is now a toothless snake of unknown species, whose scales spell out traitor. I assume that was your intention?”

Hermione shifted slightly, looking uncomfortable. “It was… cumulative,” she said finally. “If he had only given a little away, he would have had traitor spelled out on his skin. If he ignored it, he would have hurt until he stopped talking. If he continued… well… I wasn't sure what animal form someone would take, but… I suppose the effect is the same.”

“He betrayed us?” Dorea asked, sounding incredulous.

“Yes,” Alastor sighed. “Lynch stayed outside to listen to the conversation. He wasn't entirely comfortable with Albus being there, which was just as well as the rat tried to escape. He failed, I'm sorry but the dementors Kissed him immedately. I… I've listened to the memory. Albus...he was so bloody sure his way was right.”

The Order sat in stunned silence as they processed that. It would turn into one of the longest nights any of them remembered as the sheer scale of the betrayal hit those most loyal to the man they had viewed as their leader. At Draco's side, Hermione silently crowed that the manipulative old bastard had finally gotten what he deserved. She could only hope that he understood his own hubris in those final moments of awareness. 

Chapter Text

“Are you ready, Madam Malfoy?” Garlag asked, a gleam in his eye that should have made them all nervous. “Gornuck will be beginning the removal process in the next few minutes.” Silently, Hermione nodded, her hand tightly clasped in Draco’s. Beside them, James and Lily stood to the left, Regulus, Severus, Sirius, and Remus to the right. Everyone else was already in place elsewhere. 

“Let's begin!” The noise was overwhelming as an oppressive malevolence almost suffocated them as they stood. There were several shouts that sounded over the sound of Gornuck chanting as several goblins moved, casting their magic into the ring. Vaguely, Hermione registered it was a shield. As quickly as it began, it finished. 

“It is done,” Gornuck said, sounding exhausted, before the ageing goblin ambled over to Hermione and placed a tiny stone in her hand. “I am not prone to flights of fancy, Madam Malfoy, but I believe that for today, this is yours.”

Hermione's wide eyes met the goblins. “I don't… I can't…”

“You have only minutes, Madam Malfoy, before you must leave to do what must be done.”

Without conscious thought, Hermione turned the stone in her hand three times, letting out a strangled sob as Harry, Ron, Ginny, Luna, and Neville stood in front of her. 

“Huh..where’s this then?” Ron asked, looking around the room, “”Not quite what I was expecting…but, before I forget, black and grey fireworks, Mione? Really?”

“I think they look rather distinguished,” Luna mused airily. “Do persuade Daddy that a monochrome version of the Spectrespecs is a good idea. It might appeal to some of our readers.”

“And I can't believe you married the ferret!” Ron exclaimed, cutting over Luna.

“Hush idiot! Remember how beautiful she looked,” Ginny chided him. “I’m glad you had another redhead with a sense of humour to pick wedding lingerie with. You chose well!”

“Gods Ginny!” Neville whined. “You can't discuss ‘Miones' knickers!”

Harry snorted, focusing on Hermione’s face. “Hello big sister. Look at what you’ve managed, Love.” Silently, his spectral form moved to sit beside her on the ground where she’d slumped. “You can't cry, Love. The ferret will feel compelled to hug you when he's less stunned, and then we’d all be forced to admit he's not that bad, and you wouldn't do that to us, would you?”

Hermione gave a sob-like laugh. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. 

“It's not your fault.”

“It's really not,” the others agreed. 

“Look at what you're doing, ‘Mione,” Neville said gently. “My parents actually have a chance of living.”

“I miss you all so much,” she whispered.

“We’re here, Love. You know we're here. Remember when that wise old dog… well… alright, perhaps not wise.” Harry grinned up at a startled Sirius. “Remember what he said? The ones that love us never leave us. You can always find them in here.” Hermione looked down to where Harry had pointed, still feeling like her heart was breaking.

“I’d really like you here, though.” 

“I know, Love. And one day we will be. You’ll be Aunt ‘Mione, of course, but it’ll be us all the same. Think how cool you’ll be with all those stories! We rode a dragon, Hermione!”

“Hermione rides a dragon frequently,” Ginny muttered, laughing as she dodged the hand Ron had lifted to hit her, only to be caught by Luna. 

“We have to go,” Harry said softly. “You know we do. We just needed you to know that we’re here. We’re alright and we love you. So much more than you’ll ever know. After all this, go visit Molly. The twins will be there a nd in a few more months, I’ll be there too. And Nev and Ron. You’ll need to wait a bit longer for the other two, but it’ll be worth it, won't it? Think of how many pranks you can get over on the twins. You know all their tricks now!”

“I don't want you to go though,” she sobbed. 

“I know love, but we've got to. And you… you need to finish this. And then Hermione, we need you to be happy. Live. Have stupidly clever bushy-haired babies with pointy chins. We’ll always be with you, but you deserve to be happy too. Promise, big sister. And you!” Draco jumped as he was startled out of his shock. “Look after her.” He nodded slowly. “Hi, Mum! Dad! Gods Sirius, you did not age well!”

James snorted, his face pale with shock as a look of outrage passed over Sirius face. “Remind me to teach you manners this time around, Pup.” he muttered.

“Leave it to Aunt ‘Mione. She’ll do a much better job,” Harry replied wryly before turning to Hermione. “It's time to go. We love you. Now go and end this. We’ll be with you, even when you can't see us.”

Hermione sobbed as her friends faded, waving at her cheerfully, not even noticing as the stone hit the ground. 

“Come on, Princess. Let's go,” Draco murmured, pulling her up to stand. “I’ll never admit it if you tell anyone, but Potter’s right. It's time to finish things so we can live.” Squeezing her tightly he released her just in time for a crying Lily to take his place. 

"Give us a minute," she murmered as Hermione sobbed onto her shoulder. 

"We're going to go and do what they asked, sweetheart," she whispered into her hair, "Because that boy of mine was right, you deserve to be happy and you won't be until this is over."

Nodding, Hermione let her go, reaching for Draco's hand.

The group apparated silently to the prearranged meeting point, surrounding Lestrange manor.

“Is it done?” Moody grunted, looking at the group.

“Yes,” James agreed, his hand clasped tightly in Lily's. 

“Good. We’re nearly done with the wards. We’re just waiting on the signal.”

Suddenly a flash of purple flew into the air, followed by a red, then a green. Hermione felt her heart hammering as she slammed up her occlumency shields, trying to ignore how overwrought she already felt. This was it, the moment they’d been working up to since she was twelve. 

“Let's go,” Moody commanded. “Fan out. You know the plan.”

Silently, Hermine squeezed Draco's hand tightly before she let go. “I’ll see you once it's done. I love you.”

Looking desperately like he wanted to object, Draco nodded. “I love you too, Princess.”

Inside the Manor was carnage. The first wave of the Order had taken the occupants by surprise, but they were quickly rallying. Standing next to Remus, Hermione steadied herself as the cackling laugh that haunted her nightmares rang out with unbridled glee. Forcing her shields more firmly into place, she moved, ignoring Remus’s panic as she allowed rational thought to disappear and instinct to take over. 

“Holy fuck,” Sirius murmured as he watched Hermione move through the throng like a valkyrie. The girl was gone, replaced with a soldier. 

“Let's go help,” Remus murmured, his blood turning cold as he heard Bellatrix’s sickly sweet voice comment on the girl she didn't recognise. 

Whatever Sirius had intended to say was lost as they were set upon by a group headed by the younger Lestrange brother.

“The Black Blood traitor and his pet wolf,” Rabastan sneered, sending hexes their way. Focused on their own fight, both of them silently prayed that Hermione knew what she was doing with Bella. 

Draco moved through the rooms, rounding up the stragglers that thought they could escape the fight, watching as Moody chucked several of his and Hermione's portkeys at them, transporting them directly into the cells at the Ministry. He could hear the roar of a bigger battle somewhere to his left, forcing himself to ignore every instinct that was screaming at him to head there instead of moving through the corridors. They had a plan and he knew they had to follow it. Hermione was with Remus and Sirius. Severus was in there somewhere too. She'd be fine. She had to be. 

“All clear!” Dorcas called. She was followed by a similar call from Edgar Bones. 

“Right. We move to the main room,” Moody barked. “Let's go.”

The room was thick with smoke and spellfire. Draco's eyes immediately darted, trying to place Hermione. Finally, he saw her dancing around his aunt. Tamping down the urge to vomit, he fought his way through just in time to see the hex hit Hermione's side. 

Dorea beat him there, a look of unbridled fury on her face as she faced down her great niece. “I think not, Bella,” she hissed as Charlus dragged Hermione back. 

“Are you alright?” Draco asked frantically, attempting to stop the flow of blood and hold a shield charm at the same time.

“It's fine. It's stopped bleeding. What's another scar?”

He whined low in his throat. “Stay beside me. I’m not doing this again.” 

Nodding her assent, they crept out of their hiding spot, catching a few Death Eaters as they moved. She felt rather than saw Bella turn towards her slightly, before she could do anything about it, she could have sworn she heard a “Not my granddaughter, you bitch,” hissed from Dorea but she wasn't sure it wasn't just her imagination

They heard a scream of fury and whipped around quickly enough to see Bella fall, Charlus’ and Dorea’s wands extended towards her. Hermione's eyes darted, trying to find the source of the noise, feeling an odd sense of calm as she finally pinpointed it. 

“Together?” Draco asked quietly, following her gaze as Lord Voldemort finally entered the room, brutally cutting down anyone who was in his way. 

“Together,” she agreed. Blocking out the cries of her family, they both stepped into his path. 

“Hello, Tom.” Lord Voldemort faltered, his eyes falling on a witch he had never seen before and a boy who looked more like Lucius than he should. “It's been a long time coming, you know,” Hermione mused. 

“Who are you?” he hissed.

“Oh me? I suppose it is polite.”

“Princess,” Draco barked in warning. 

“My name is Hermione Malfoy, Tom Riddle.”

“Who told you that name?”

Hermione snorted. “Ashamed of it? I have to admit, styling yourself as a Lord does scream of overcompensation. Tell me, Tom, what is it you're compensating for? Your name? Your muggle father? Your inbred mother? Your own fears? Death, isn't it? That's what scares you. Shame really… I’ve always been told you should face your fears. So let's do that, shall we?”

Tom Riddle blinked, momentarily nonplussed by the diminutive witch who dared to speak to him with such insolence before fury took over. Reluctantly, he was forced to admit that they were good, whoever these two new faces were. They were quick and able to anticipate each other's moves, but he knew he was better. 

“I’m going to fucking murder that witch,” James muttered, watching his daughter and her husband take on the darkest wizard since Grindelwald, taunting him. Beside him, Lily made a small noise of agreement as they took advantage of the other side's confusion. 

“Let's go and help,” Severus muttered, fighting his way to their side, dispatching his brothers to the ministry as he went.

“Let's go,” Sirius commanded, a battered-looking Remus at his side. 

“Joining the party?” Regulus asked, blood slowly oozing from a wound at the side of his head.

“Of course,” Dorea agreed as Charlus nodded. 

Carefully, they crept through the remaining fighters, noting with relief that the numbers had dwindled significantly, not daring to look at the bodies littering the floor. 

Hermione felt someone's hand on her back, backing up her spells. Severus, she realised distractedly, as the scent of rosemary and sandalwood hit her. In front of them, Tom looked surprised. 

“Regulus, Severus… how… unexpected.”

“Indeed,” Severus agreed, blocking his curse before sending one back. If anything, Tom looked amused before his smirk faltered, realising that he was surrounded. 

“On three, Little Puff,” Severus commanded softly.

“Three!” Charlus yelled from behind the Dark Lord, each of them firing something.

There was a silence as his body fell, hitting the ground with a distinctly human thud. 

“It's done,” Draco voiced with a touch of disbelief, turning and pulling Hermione to him, beyond caring that he was sobbing as loudly as she was. “Gods, it's finally done.” 

The remnants of the Order sat in contemplative silence in the living room of Potter Hall. None of them were quite ready to give up the comfort of regular meetings. The Ministry cells were full to almost bursting. All of them knew the next few months would be busy. Silently each of them contemplated the dead, drawing comfort from the living. Thoros Nott had died at the hand of Remus, leaving Hermione as the last living relative of Theodore Nott. They were working on speeding up the paperwork to allow Remus and Sirius to adopt him. Their marriage was a brief moment of joy amongst the chaos, even if it had been rushed and without crups.

Lucius had died running when it became clear that they couldn’t win. Narcissa had been torn between relief and grief as she nursed her pregnancy. The future Draco had talked about would never come to pass. But while she had grown to love her husband, the peace she felt knowing that her child wouldn’t hate her in this timeline went a long way towards curbing her sadness. It helped that Andromeda had re-entered her life.

Alastor Moody had gone down fighting, taking several prominent Death Eaters with him. He was joined on the list by Edgar Bones, Morag McKinnon, Elphias Doge, Benjy Fenwick, and Pomona Sprout, along with many others who had hovered in the peripheries of the Order. There had been many funerals. The aftermath had been a sobering time where grief had warred with joy that the terror was finally over. 

“You're being awarded an Order of Merlin.” The deep voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt came from beside Draco. “Most of the room is, actually.”

“We only told a story,” Hermione murmured. 

Kingsley snorted. “Hardly love. Accept it. We all owe you and Draco everything.”

She rolled her eyes but didn't comment, a small smile on her face as she watched Remus walk with a fussy Theo. 

“It’ll be better this time, won't it?” Draco murmured with an arm wrapped around her waist.

“Yes,” she murmured. “He’ll grow up happy this time.”

“And us?”

“Well…” she murmured, pulling his hand to rest on her still flat abdomen. “It would seem as if Harry will have a cousin who's not an arsehole to grow up with this time.”

He spun her sharply. “Seriously?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “It's… early, but yes. If my calculations are right, there’ll be barely a week between them.”

“Your grandmother is never going to let any of us move out now,” Draco muttered. 

She laughed, wrapping her arms around him. “I believe there was talk of three new houses on the grounds,” she agreed. 

Chapter Text

“Aunt Mione, Uncle Draco! Finally!”

“Gods he shouts like he didn't see us just last night,” Draco muttered.

Hermione stifled her smile as her eyes scanned the platform. Alice and Frank grinned, waving at them. A tiny Neville stood in front of them, with an owl this time. Still called Trevor, but at least safely locked in its cage. His siblings, Charlotte and Edwin, ran rings around an exasperated-looking Augusta.

Narcissa stood slightly further down with Fabian Prewett of all people. Her son, Altair, looked exactly as she remembered first year Draco, hair gel and all. The only jarring differences were his smile when he spotted them and the three redheads badgering him for information as Narcissa unsuccessfully tried to rein them in.

“Your mother appears to be ready to hide the others in Altair's trunk,” Hermione muttered. 

Draco snorted. “Serves her right. Children with a Prewett, honestly!”

“You adore Fabian, don't lie. And let's not pretend that those redheads aren’t your favourites. Mira spends more time in our house than hers!”

“She's calmer than Pollux and Cepheus.”

“Not by much,” she muttered.

The Weasleys were there on time for once. Molly was giving her yearly lecture that the twins were very obviously tuning out. She distinctly heard the promise of a toilet seat as a souvenir for Ginny. It would appear some things remained the same regardless of the timeline.

Unlike her first time, several people called out greetings–children of friends who knew them well and friends who had all fallen under the spell of celebrating peace with long-lasting results. 

“Come on, let's go!” Lyra urged, tugging on Draco's hand. “Theo and Harry are down there and they're going to go before we see them!”

Draco snorted. “Hardly, little star. Rigel’s still here, isn't he? The train won't leave without him.”

“I can't wait until it's my turn,” Carina huffed. “Why did Ry have to be first?”

“It's not like we planned it, star girl.” Draco shrugged, tugging on one of her curls. “And you don't need to wait as long as Leo.”

“I have ages,” the tiny blond boy muttered. “Lyra goes next year and you and Keela go in two years. I have to wait for another three after that. It's not fair.”

“You get Mama and Daddy to yourself through Leo,” Aquila voiced with a sympathetic smile for her brother. “Think of all the fun things you’ll get to do. And Aunt Lily and Uncle James will be sad because Thomas will go next year and then Violet will go the two years after that, so they’ll need to steal you to do fun things with. And Uncle Sirius has already promised that he's going to start teaching you how to be a marauder. And Mama said that Uncle Severus is going to be… what was it… utterly ridiculous,” Hermione stifled her giggle, “when Dorothy and Iris go in a few years. Aunt Cassie agrees, so you’ll need to distract him. And Uncle Reggie will need lots of practice now that Aunt Marlene’s having a baby. You can help him learn before it’s here!” 

“She's going to be a Hufflepuff, isn't she?” Draco groaned, dodging Hermione's hand where she went to hit him as Leo smiled slightly, placated by his elder sister's words.

“You took forever!” Hermione grinned down at Harry, feeling something akin to peace as she realised that this was one of those moments they'd done it all for. 

“I’m so sorry. Sacha didn't want to go into her cage.” The tawny owl eyed her balefully, confirming her words. 

“Papa, can't I just take him and see?” Draco snorted as Theo tried unsuccessfully to convince Sirius that he could smuggle Maurice in with him, privately sure that the only reason that the man was saying no to his only child was because he couldn't stand the thought of both Theo and Maurice not being in the house.

“Not a chance, pup. Minnie would let Filch string me up by my ankles in the dungeons and you wouldn't want that, would you?”

Theo paused as if considering it before he sighed. “No, Papa.”

“Right answer, pup.”

Remus laughed, wrapping an arm around Theo. “Daad!” he whined. “I'm too big for cuddles!”

“Nonsense,” Hermione responded briskly. “You're never too big for cuddles.”

Theo yelped as she descended on him, squeezing him tight and peppering kisses over his face. 

“She's not going to do that to me is she?” Rigel asked, horrified as he watched his mother torture his cousin. “Dad? Dad?” Draco snorted at the frantic tone of his eldest child.

“Of course I am, Love,” Hermione grinned, catching her son around the waist and squeezing him. “You behave,” she murmured into his hair. “And… listen to your professors and oh… don't get into too much trouble.”

He grinned up at her, his face softening when he noticed her tears. “Don't cry, Mama,” he murmured, wincing as she almost sobbed at the sound of the term he'd long since outgrown. “There’ll be no trolls, at least.”

“Oh!” Hermione pulled him back to her.

“Let him go, Princess. It’ll be Christmas before you know it,” Draco interjected softly, extracting his eldest and ushering him towards his great grandparents to say his goodbyes. 

“Aunt Mione?” 

Hermione looked down into the familiar green eyes of her nephew. “Yes, Love?” 

“Where are you?” she frowned, so he continued. “Uncle Draco is here… only he's called Altair now I suppose. I was wondering… where are you?”

Hermione froze, having not considered it, wondering not for the first time if they had made the right decision to tell the children the truth when everyone else thought Draco was some distant family cousin of Lucius’. “I don't know,” she murmured finally. “I… there might not be me, this time.”

“Oh,” Harry said softly. “That's… that's quite sad.”

She smiled slightly. “Perhaps,” she agreed before an all too familiar face registered out the corner of her eye. 

“Princess?”

“Oh,” she said softly as her parents… the Grangers, ushered a tiny girl with more hair than she remembered having onto the platform.

“Is that you Aunt Mione?”

“I think perhaps it is,” she murmured. 

“Let's go say hello!” James demanded, catching the conversation. 

“Wait! Jamie…” Draco grinned as he watched Hermione dart after her brother. 

“You look a little confused,” James greeted the couple. 

“Yes,” Marie Granger agreed. “I… well we’re… not quite like our daughter.”

“Muggles, Mum,” the girl corrected quietly.

“Yes. Muggles.”

James nodded, holding out his hand. “James Potter. My sister Hermione Malfoy. Our eldests are going this year too, if you’d like to join us. We can… explain how things work if you'd like.”

“Would you?” Marie asked with an edge of desperation. “It's all a little surreal. My husband, David… well, it's taken a bit to convince him. I'm sure he half expected a concussion instead of walking through a wall, didn't you?”

David Granger flushed. “Well it is a bit unbelievable,” he muttered. 

“My parents thought the same.” Hermione smiled around the lump in her throat. “They were muggles too.”

“And my wife’s,” James agreed. “She's the stunning redhead over there. Still can't quite believe she married me if I'm honest.”

“Neither can the rest of us,” Hermione agreed wryly, making Marie laugh. 

“Oh! I didn't introduce our daughter, Viola.”

“From Twelfth Night,” Hermione murmured. 

“Oh! Are you a fan?” Marie asked excitedly. 

“I was named after Hermione in The Winter's Tale.” 

“Oh, that's lovely! It was on our list but it just didn’t fit when she was born.”

“If you come with us, we’ll introduce you to the rest of them. They're… well there's rather a lot of them, to be honest, but don't let that put you off. They’ll look out for you.”

Viola Granger looked more than a little apprehensive as they followed James towards the growing group of people. 

“Right, Theo Lupin-Black, Rigel Malfoy, Harry Potter, Altair Malfoy, Ron Weasely, and Neville Longbottom. They're all going with you this year. The other two redheads winding up my own rather lovely redhead are Fred and George. Don't listen to a word they say. Oi! You lot! This is Viola Granger!”

Rigel visibly startled at the name as Dorea shoved him forward to introduce himself. 

“I hadn't realised that you were almost entirely made up of hair even as a child, Little Puff,” Severus teased. 

“Hush! Where is your wife? You're far less rude when she's around.”

Severus snorted. “Dorcas is attempting to persuade Dorothy that remaining with us for another few years is for the best. She was trying to climb into the luggage carriage.”

Hermione laughed. “Of course she was.”

“I blame you. No child of mine would be so impulsive without your influence.”

“Don't be absurd, Severus. Cassie was a Gryffindor too. It's hardly my fault that you married her and then made me godmother. In fact, I think that subconsciously you wanted it. It is, after all, the superior house.”

He glowered at her before his eyes landed on his youngest where she was dancing around Gideon and Fabian with Cepheus and Edwin, giggling hysterically at whatever game they’d made up. “Thank Merlin for Iris. That one is destined for my house.”

“Want to bet?”

“What? No! What do you know!”

“Nothing, nothing! Only… Iris will go with Edwin and we both know how fond of each other they are. And Edwin is likely to follow in his sibling's footsteps, especially since Cepheus has already declared that he wants to be exactly like his dad. So perhaps…”

“No!” He looked utterly horrified. “Absolutely not!” At that, he swept off to rescue his youngest from the clutches of the youngest Longbottom and Prewett.

Hermione grinned. Her work here was apparently done. He really did make it too easy.

“That was mean, Princess,” Draco laughed. 

“Well, he was far too smug. Let's face it, Iris probably will be in Slytherin, but it's fun to let him think otherwise for a while.”

He wrapped an arm around her as the warning whistle blew and the children began saying a flurry of last-minute goodbyes. After hugging them all hard, despite their protests, she watched as the train slowly took off. 

“Alright there, Princess?”

She smiled. “Yes… I think I am.” 

Draco smiled. “It was worth it, wasn't it?”

Slowly, she nodded her head as she watched Frank and Alice, Lily and James, Gideon and Fabian wave at the train. “Yes. Yes, it was.”