The Scar
“Petunia’s apparently having a terrible time without us.” Hermione Evans announced without preamble, flopping onto the bench beside her twin - head rested upon her shoulder. She ignored the few gasps that sounded around the table, Gryffindors a little surprised to see a student from a different house sitting to eat their breakfast.
For the first week at this new school, Lily’s twin had not dared to join the raucous Gryffindors at mealtimes. She’d offered smiles across the Hall, but had not stepped closer to the table than to nod for her sister to join whatever adventure she had planned for the day.
It had been difficult for Lily to accept that her sister would no longer be sharing her room, that she would no longer wake to Hermione’s morning routine of turning on the radio and coaxing her from deep slumber. But she had lovely girls in her dorms - mainly Purebloods, a few Half-bloods scattered too - and the girls were kind enough to rouse her and drag her to breakfast as Lily yawned through her sleepiness.
Still, she would be lying if she said she wasn’t disappointed in Hermione for ending up in a different house. At least her sister had explained it on the first morning inside the castle. Apparently, she had really begged the hat to let her stay by her sister’s side. It was rotten luck that the grouchy rags had decided such a gesture marked her loyalty above her bravery, and had sent her to the house of yellow.
The Hufflepuffs were rather lovely, though. Evenly split between male and female students, the lot had taken Hermione in with grins and brightness. She was not alone in her Muggle upbringing, sharing a dorm with another Muggleborn girl - another Muggleborn boy in the rooms on the opposite staircase.
Mary McDonald - a kind girl with thick course curls that rivalled Hermione’s, and kind dark eyes to match - seemed thrilled to get to know Lily. She called her an ‘honorary housemate’, citing their shared knowledge of the Beatles and Dad’s Army as enough to make them friends. Though Wilbur Turner (a boy that much preferred the show Porridge, and the band Herman’s Hermits) was quiet at first, he’d soon warmed up to her as she’d spoken of their dad’s job as a plumber. Apparently, his uncle worked the same trade, just further south in the New Forrest. He sported unruly brown hair and bright grey eyes, and liked to leave a space for her at dinnertime so the twins could gossip about their differing days and differing classes.
And the Gryffindor girls seemed taken with Hermione, too. Marlene McKinnon, a blonde girl with an almost regal quality to her beauty, had been fascinated by Hermione’s dry wit. One time, when Hermione had invited Lily’s dorm mates to join them in the kitchens, she’d snorted pumpkin juice from her nose as Hermione recounted her first History of Magic Lesson with their ghostly professor. Alice Brown, whose name was rather apt with her pale brown hair and eyes, had similarly found comfort in Hermione’s warm compliments and sarcastic quips. Given her shy nature, she seemed keen on Hermione’s quiet humour - likely enjoying how neither Evans twin pressed her for comment or forced her to speak when she could not find the words.
All in all, the pair of twins were finding their place in this large school. And if it happened to be that their lives (despite their different houses) were with each other, well no one minded having the extra company.
“Is that so?” Lily raised a brow, quick to pour a cup of tea and pass it her way.
“Rotten Rudy, from up the estate, has been saying that she’s the dumb one since she didn’t get into the smart school with us.” Hermione huffed, accepting the cracked teacup with a tired grin. “I’ve already written her back, telling her that he’s a moron, but if you could send her something too?”
“I’m trying to press some of the local flowers for her.” Lily nodded thoughtfully. “But I’ll send her a letter after Potions.”
“That’s good.” Hermione replied through a yawn. “I think we ought to see if one of the older girls can help us charm some ribbons for her. Apparently Rudy ripped one of her favourites, the nice checkered one.”
“Rotten boy.” Lily spat, frowning as she grabbed a scone and placed it on her sister’s plate. “I bet we could make her some new ones, in as many colours as she’d like.”
“I’ll ask Professor McGonagall after Transfiguration.” Hermione smiled, snatching up the marmalade to scoop a spoonful beside her scone.
With a clatter of a hearty schoolbag on the floor, Peter Pettigrew slumped onto the bench opposite. Bleary eyed, he grasped the first piece of food he spied - gnawing on a rasher of bacon.
She’d met Peter after the Welcoming Feast - the boy quietly watching the table for the duration of the meal. It was only after they’d arrived in their Common Room (and James Potter had introduced them all to the quiet boy) that she’d gotten to meet him. He was short, a little stocky, but very friendly. More shy than anything else, really. He had wiry blond hair cut neatly, and beady blue eyes that held his nerves as he watched those around him.
Truth be told, Lily Evans had been a little worried for the last Gryffindor sorted in their cohort. Shyness did not seem a trait the rest of their housemates shared, but with his rowdy dorm mates he seemed to be slowly opening up to them all. Not enough to risk befriending anyone in a different house (or to ask personal questions of any Gryffindors), but enough that he would politely ask about people’s days and if they’d done the latest homework assignment.
Plus, he seemed to loathe their early waking even more than she did - making Lily seem practically a morning person when compared to his rumpled yawns and grumbles.
“Oh, hello.” Lily greeted, sharing an amused glance with her sister.
“Oh, hiya Evans.” The boy nodded, glancing up briefly before his gaze returned to the plates of grub. Then, almost comically, his eyes snapped back upwards as he caught sight of Hermione.
“What’s the Puff doing here?” Peter frowned to himself, retreating to hunch as he kept watch over the newcomer.
“That’s Lily’s sister, you oaf.” Sirius clapped him across the back of his head as he sat beside him. “She’s usually here for breakfast, you just tend to stumble in once she’s headed to run errands.”
“Hello, Peter.” Hermione nodded at the boy, smiling kindly (if a little stiffly).
“How do you know my name?” His eyes widened as she shrugged in reply, waving a hand dismissively.
“I know many things.”
“Hermione’s sort of psychic.” Lily grinned, leaning in to whisper the words conspiratorially as her sister scowled at the phrase.
“Like a Seer?” Sirius chimed in, eyes sparkling as he glanced at the Hufflepuff.
She merely rolled her eyes at the term. Though Lily was aware of her sister’s distaste for Divination (likely stemming from several ill-fated meetings with fairground psychics and fortune tellers), she knew the girl could not deny her talents as mere luck. No one was that lucky. And even though Hermione was the smartest person she knew, she could not know all she did through mere approximation.
“Lily’s convinced so.” She laughed, wrinkling her nose with distaste. “Though, I hardly think I am.”
“You knew that Severus would be bad news.” Lily pointed out, a small smile curling her lips upwards.
“That awful Slytherin?” A voice chimed in.
The group glanced up as James Potter flopped onto the bench beside Hermione - eyes sparkling with interest. He offered the Hufflepuff girl a brilliant smile, nodding in greeting as he set about picking at the cooked display before them.
“He lives near us, but he was always rotten to Hermione.” Lily nodded. “She said I ought to stay away and, well… look at him now.” She grimaced.
“Any other things you simply know, oh wise Seer?” Sirius asked with a waggle of his thick brows.
Hermione’s eyes fixed upon him - those pale, watery irises. For a moment, Sirius looked rather startled by it, though he was quick to mask his trepidation with that familiar cocky grin.
“You have a brother.”
Sirius stiffened.
“Any old idiot could have told you that.” He scoffed, folding his arms over his chest - though his gaze was weary as he looked her over.
“He has a scar, by his eyebrow.” Hermione shrugged, fetching another scone from the plate between her and her twin.
“No, he doesn’t.”
“Doesn’t he?” She raised a brow, almost confused at his dismissal. “It’s just below it, right next to his eye.”
“I promise you, other Evans,” Sirius rolled his eyes, “he doesn’t have any scars.”
“Huh.” She frowned a little, before shrugging off Sirius’s words. “Not yet, I suppose.”
“Hermione does tend to be right about this sort of thing.” Lily preened. “I’d keep an eye out, if I were you.”
“Whatever.” Sirius scoffed, dismissing the claim with a roll of his eyes.
Hermione sighed as though he were some foolish child, turning to her sister with a shake of her head. She was finished with this topic, it seemed. Lily could hardly blame her - twin pride or not, Hermione never appreciated when Lily informed people of her talents.
“Lils, will you come with me to the Hospital Wing? I need to drop off some chocolate.”
“Sure.” Lily shrugged, pulling her satchel over her shoulder before downing the last of her tea. “We can pop by my dorms after, yeah?”
“I have envelopes in my bag.” Hermione smiled, stepping from the bench to offer her sister her hand. Lily accepted it with a broad smile, letting herself be pulled from the Hall - neither noticing the eyes that followed them.
But the three Gryffindor boys that had just arrived at breakfast kept their focus on these sisters. They exchanged amused glances - more worried, in Sirius’s case - before shrugging off the prediction with a joke and a hearty laugh. It would not do to dwell on such silliness, after all. When Remus arrived to join them (a bar of chocolate clutched in his hand), they did not even mention it.
But they were reminded of Hermione Evans words as the four Gryffindor boys descended from the Hogwarts Express for Yule break. Though they’d not spent much time with the witch - the twins seeming content in each other’s company whenever Hermione joined the table at mealtimes - her predictions were something whispered about amongst the first years.
For starters, she’d somehow known the exact colour of Dumbledore’s socks on no more than seven separate occasions. Naturally, Sirius had claimed she must have seen him earlier in the day and tricked them with her ‘creepy pale eyes’. He continued his incredulity as she ‘guessed’ who would win the next Quidditch match three times correctly, and somehow knew that their Herbology professor was dating the Divination professor before even the seventh years started speculating.
Only Remus took her predictions with the same seriousness she held while spouting them. Though, that was likely due to how she’d know he would miss certain days of school before the boy even caught ill. He had a weak constitution, apparently. One that meant he tended to end up in the hospital wing once a month. After the first month (in which he’d tried to avoid her, still watching her with terror), the boy had calmed about her ‘knowing things’. Though, that was likely due to the chocolate bars she’d slip him on the day before he took ill.
He did seem to love chocolate, after all.
Unfortunately for Sirius’s scepticism, as they caught sight of his family on the platform the boy could deny her talents no longer.
The Blacks were sequestered as far from the Muggleborn’s relatives - sneers plastered upon snooty faces as they glanced through their noses at those surrounding them. His mother, a woman who looked as though her face had been stuck in a scowl by some strong gust of wind, wore heavy dark robes and heavy dark makeup. His father, who looked uncomfortably like he’d rather be anywhere else, had his hair styled with slick gel and a thick moustache over his thin upper lip.
They, despite sharing many of Sirius’s features, did not hold his beauty. Ugliness grew with each dour thought and cruel intention. And, quite frankly, it was clear on their faces just how rotten their thoughts really were.
That is, save for Sirius’s younger brother. Though his posture was proper and tight, he wore a weary expression upon the face that nearly matched his brother’s. The same aristocratic quality to their features, same sharp nose and pale skin. Though he tore dark and heavy robes, he glowed with the same brightness of his brother. Twin stars amongst the inky abyss of a cruel, dark sky.
And across the platform, the four Gryffindor boys could spy that Regulus Black had a scar, parallel to his brow - pulled to the side of his eye. It wasn’t obvious at first, but as the boy scratched at his eye, none were blind to the curious little mark. New to his brother, but healed enough to suggest he’d had it for quite a while. As he caught sight of Sirius, it crinkled with his smile.
“I thought you said he didn’t have a scar?” James frowned, nudging his friend and waggling his brows.
“He… he didn’t last I saw him.” Sirius blinked, eyes darting the crowd before resting on the oblivious Evans. They were wide and distrusting, but utterly resigned as he looked back to his friends. “That girl really is a Seer.”
“So?” Peter frowned - his gaze a little wary as it lingered on Hermione Evans as she wrapped her arms around a girl a few years older than them. Petunia, likely, considering how the blonde wept and clutched her close. The three sisters seemed very close, if Lily’s nattering was true. That, and the amount of times the two girls mentioned writing her letters - or how they’d join each other at breakfasts to compare the bulletins of separate notes send to them simultaneously. Checking if the details aligned for both, whether it seemed that their sister was keeping details from either.
She never seemed to be. If anything, the three seemed unbearably close. Ridiculously in tune, even with the distance between them.
“I’ve never heard of a Muggleborn Seer.” Sirius spoke with a frown. “I… I didn’t think it was possible.”
“Well, it’s just magic, isn’t it?”
“Family magic, usually.” James explained. “It’s a bit odd to just crop up.”
“Must be a squib in their line or something.” Sirius shrugged. “Don’t tell Lily, though. She’d likely find that an insult.”
Remus snorted at that statement, nodding along with Sirius. He was the one that saw the Muggleborn Gryffindor the most, as both liked to study in the library before dinnertime. Hermione apparently liked to frequent these study sessions, handing out personalised study guides to whoever tagged along. She would listen to people lament their struggles one day, arriving the next evening with research lists of helpful books. Whenever Remus missed classes, she’d duplicate hers or Lily’s notes and compile them for him to sort through on the weekend.
Though, she seemed to loathe any gratitude that was passed her way. The Hufflepuff would shrug off praise or thanks, citing her actions as ‘not worth such acclaim’. It was entirely opposite to her sister, who seemed to bask in whatever praise she received for helping with homework or fixing potions mid-class when someone had messed up a step.
But it seemed the most key feature of the Evans twins. Lily Evans would glow in the spotlight - seeking whatever recognition she could find and celebrating each time someone realised her brilliance. Hermione, on the other hand, was perfectly content to stay in the shadows. Her help was not done for any acknowledgement, but rather as ordinary kindness.
Remus liked to joke that she was the truest Hufflepuff at Hogwarts. Loyal to a fault, even to those she hardly interacted with.
“C’mon, guys.” Remus sighed, scanning the platform until he caught sight of his parents. “We can gossip after the break.”
“Is this goodbye then, Remus?” James laughed, smiling brightly at him.
“It’s a long drive back to the farm, and dad gets stressed driving in the dark.” He shrugged. “Don’t want him to have a conniption.”
“Alright.” Sirius chuckled, eyes darting to his rather flustered looking mother. “I’ll see you all in January, yeah?”
“Yeah, yeah.” James agreed, adjusting his grip on his trunk as he caught sight of his parents. “Happy Yule, boys.”
“Happy Yule.” They chorused back.