It Does Not Do Well To Dwell On Dreams
Chapter 1 - It Does Not Do Well To Dwell On Dreams
"It does not do well to dwell on dreams and forget to live."
– Albus Dumbledore
August 29th 1976 - Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scottish Highlands
“Hermione, darling!”
The witch sighed and turned around to face the school she had once called home. It had been fifteen years since she had been born (the second time) and she had thankfully managed to navigate society well enough to be considered a proper pureblood. However, she knew that was all changing soon as she was about to be faced with people she had met before as Hermione Granger, people she knew as Death Eaters, people she knew dead.
Her birth had been quite surprising to not only her, but her whole family. The Rosiers were a prominent pureblood society in not only Wizarding Britain but also France. Hermione’s father claimed this was why opted to send her to Beauxbatons rather than Hogwarts, though he didn’t know of her knowledge of the future as Hermione.
The real reason was Felix Rosier, Hermione’s father had been involved in a dark business organised by a school friend: Tom Riddle Jr. Personally, Felix thought Riddle’s agenda was complete rubbish, but he was pressured into joining it by his fellow schoolmates, who were all strong believers in blood supremacy. Rosier knew how dangerous being involved in this was, and wished to cause his family no harm.
In truth Felix was never as strong a believer in blood supremacy as other purebloods he met. While the Rosiers were a Sacred Twenty-Eight family, they were a lighter family compared to those aligned with the Dark Lord. To Felix, his family was most important, and his children were the light of his lives. Being a trusted companion of the Dark Lord meant he knew how dangerous it was to send his daughter to Hogwarts. He did not want her drawing attention from the wrong people.
Felix consulted with his favourite family member; his aunt Vinda. He knew about her time as Grindelwald’s companion and trusted her judgement more than anything. It was her who suggested sending Hermione to Beauxbatons, the school she previously attended. The older witch doted on Hermione and eagerly offered to look after her in France, allowing her to stay with her at her home in Marseilles.
Despite all of Felix’s precautions, dark times were still approaching, and on May 17th 1976, both his parents were attacked and killed. Little love was lost between Felix and his father, however his relationship with his mother was strong and her death was understandably devastating. Due to this, he summoned his aunt and daughter from France and decided to keep them with him in England, as the new Head of House.
Naturally both witches took time to adjust, especially Hermione who left all her friends behind. Vinda was mostly unbothered as she knew she had made enemies so being surrounded by family was her safest option.
Now was time to enrol Hermione at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
The headmaster would sort her into a house as well as have her complete a small examination to test her abilities and the knowledge she gained at Beauxbatons.
At first, being reborn into a different timeline was not something Hermione ever expected or enjoyed, however the more time she spent in this timeline; the more she began to realise and enjoy the differences from her time at Hogwarts in the 90s compared to her time at Beauxbatons now. For starters, she wasn’t instantly categorised as just anyone's friend. There was no more “Potter’s Mudblood” due to her new identity. While being a muggleborn was never something Hermione was ashamed of, she had to admit being pureblood had its advantages.
Not to mention, Hermione’s new appearance saved her from the relentless bullying she received in her past time at Hogwarts. She now looked more like her mother, the beautiful Juliette Rosier (née Delacour), though with her fathers hair colour. Her previously bushy hair was tamed into more manageable curls that cascaded down her back thanks to her new genetics and mother’s French beauty charms. Her hair was a dark chestnut brown and her pale skin was unblemished and left the same shade as it previously was. Her eyes were now a pale emerald green, though more grey than Harry Potter’s eyes. In short, Hermione felt much more beautiful and confident.
Her father had wavy hair the same dark brown hair as his daughter, however his eyes were blue-grey like his son Evan’s. Though Evan inherited his mothers honey blonde hair.
The family entered the school with Evan chattering off Hermione’s ear about Hogwarts and how much she’d love it. He was currently one year above her and about to enter his sixth year, while Hermione would enter her fifth. The pair of siblings had always been close and while Hermione did attempt to keep Evan at an arm’s length, she found she couldn’t and always gave into his attempts to play together.
As the pair trailed after their parents, taking in the magnificent architecture of Hogwarts, Hermione could not help but reflect on her life in this timeline and her previous one.
May 1st 1998 - Gringotts Wizarding Bank, Diagon Alley, London
Hermione grimaced as she tugged on the ebony black dress she was wearing. It, of course, belonged to Bellatrix Lestrange, and was not something the muggleborn would usually choose herself. Her unmanageable curls had grown longer due to the potion and she felt slightly taller. Being in the body of her torturer was not something Hermione had pictured when she first left Shell Cottage; nonetheless this had to be done.
Ron stood at her side as they entered Gringotts, yet it did little to calm her nerves. She was already Undesirable No. 2, and the skirmish at Malfoy Manor was just a small taste of what would happen if they were caught. Hermione put on her best haughty expression and deranged, irritating voice, and began to follow the plan she and the boys had prepared.
At the customer service counter, Hermione asked to be admitted to Bellatrix’s vault, and a goblin requested identification. “Your wand will suffice.”
Harry realised that they must know Bellatrix lost her wand and must be expecting an impostor, so he used the Imperius curse to control the goblin’s mind. The goblin complimented her on her new wand, which caused Travers to become suspicious, so Harry controlled him as well.
The entire party, led by the mind-controlled goblin, entered a rail cart and travelled deep into the vaults. When the cart passed through a waterfall and all of their Disguising spells became undone, Griphook told them that the Gringotts employees set up defences indicating that they know impostors are present.
As they eventually made it past the goblin, the golden trio soon realised that everything they touched multiplied. “Try not to touch anything!” Harry yelled over the loud sound of metal clanging. Hemione and Ron both yell ‘okay’ before separating and continuing their search for the horcrux.
The bright gold reflecting was almost blinding to Hermione as she ventured deeper into the vault. Priceless, ancient artefacts lined the walls and floors; including a mesmerising gold watch. The thrum of magic surrounding it was so powerful, the muggleborn couldn’t help but move closer to it. It was made of priceless, goblin-made gold and had intricate runes carved into it. She reached out to touch it and was shocked by the power she felt inside her. “Hermione!” Ron called, “We’ve found it!” Despite the witch’s better judgement, Hermione quickly pocketed the gold watch and rushed over to her boys.
When the time came for the Battle of Hogwarts; Hermione was ruthless . There was no sense of morality in her attacks, only life or death. She was beginning to lose count of those murdered, at her hand and at the Dark Lord’s. Hermione could practically feel Death breathing down her neck the more she fought. She knew it was only a matter of time before she was killed.
Quickly disposing of the unmasked Death Eater she was fighting, the young witch felt a cold hand touch hers. She whirled around swiftly and found herself looking into the vibrant green eyes of Harry James Potter. War had eaten away at the once lively young man.
His lightning scar stood out against the pale skin of his forehead, a painful reminder of the night in which Harry became an orphan. The burdens of the losses both had suffered were wearing them down. It pained Hermione to see Harry like this. He was her brother in all but blood and watching him suffer was possibly the hardest thing she had to bear. The last seven years they had spent together, along with Ron, had allowed the girl to really get to know Harry and to see him as more than just the Boy Who Lived or the Chosen One. She was now able to read him like a book so, of course, she had been able to tell that something was wrong the moment their eyes met. For the first time she was doubting whether this broken boy standing before her could really save the Wizarding World.
Before either of them could say a word, a large explosion destroyed a wall behind them, causing debris and rubble to fly at the pair and break them apart. Glass pelted at their skin and struck the watch on Hermione’s wrist.
The object began to glow and heat up to scalding levels. Everything around Hermione was a blur; the dead bodies, the lights of spells flashing everywhere; Harry’s voice. The muggleborn felt her body go numb and her eyes begin to drift shut, her whole body being engulfed into a peaceful dreamlike state.
April 4th 1966 - Rosier Estate, Hampstead, London
Hermione Aurélie Rosier was born to Felix and Juliette Rosier on May 19th 1961, at Château Rosier in Nice, France. Unlike their oldest child, Evan, Hermione didn’t come out wailing and screaming. No, she instead came out with a calm expression, though if one looked closely they’d see the downcast look in her eye.
In her earliest years, Hermione was never a happy child. She smiled politely, if not stiffly, and she quietly laughed when anyone attempted to impress her. Compared to her older brother she had a sense of maturity which concerned her parents.
For centuries, women born into the Rosier had been gifted with rare types of mind magic. Whether this was a blessing or curse was yet to be determined. Very few of those who had been presented with this gift ever learned to properly control it. Felix Rosier suspected his daughter was overwhelmed, when one night he came across her sobbing in her bed.
Hermione awoke tangled in her bedsheets and breathing heavily. Her whole body trembled as the cool night air drifted through her window creating goosebumps on her pale skin. A whimper quietly escaped her lips and tears gathered in her eyes as she recalled the dream that haunted her. This was the third night this week that she had lost sleep because of these nightmares.
The witch slowly sat up and accepted that she would not be getting any more sleep that night. Hermione had long since stopped going to her parents for comfort, not wishing for them to lose any sleep on her account. “For God’s sake,” the girl thought, “I am technically an adult, nightmares like this shouldn’t bother me this much!”
“Hermione?” A voice whispered. Hermione looked up to see her father standing at her door with a worried expression on his face. He walked towards his daughter and sat on her bed, urging her to lay back down. “Another nightmare?”
She nodded miserably as he stroked her hair. He looked at her thoughtfully. “Hermione.” He spoke seriously, “There’s something I haven’t told you. Honestly, your mother thinks you are too young to know, but I don’t agree.” Hermione listened with rapt attention.
“For centuries, women of the Rosier have been blessed with special kinds of mind magic. While this tradition skipped my sister, Druella,” he pulled a face and Hermione giggled, “I fear it may have affected you.”
The witch hesitated before speaking in such a low tone Felix had to strain to hear it. “My dreams…they’re always set in the future. And they always have the same person. A boy named Harry and…” she hesitated, unsure about divulging her knowledge to her father. 'This could be the perfect cover!' she thought.
“Voldemort.”
The last word came out as barely a whisper, but she could tell her father had heard it from the way his eyes widened and his hand froze from where he was playing with her hair. He quickly schooled his expression, oblivious to his daughter's sharp eyes.
“I think…” he began, sighing, “you need to remember that what you are seeing in these dreams are just that, dreams . Whatever this future you’re seeing is, you have the opportunity to change it for the better. What you have is a rare gift, Hermione; use it carefully.
All was peaceful in the Rosier estate as the family prepared for the eleventh birthday of Narcissa Black, the youngest daughter of Druella Black née Rosier - Felix’s sister. It would be the first Pureblood event they attended in England since their relocation. Evan was dressed in simple, but elegant navy blue robes, over a waistcoat and bow tie, looking as sophisticated as he could at the age of six. Hermione on the other hand was dressed in a dazzling navy dress with a matching bow holding up her curls into a ponytail. Together, the Rosier siblings looked like perfect Pureblood children.
Juliette grasped her daughter's hand and stepped into the floo with a shout of “Black Manor.” Her husband and son followed after. The witch brushed off any stray soot from the fireplace before checking her children and taking her husband's arm. “Felix!” came a cheer from one of the guests. A smile broke out on the French wizard's face as he returned the greeting, holding his hand out for a handshake.
“Alphard! So great to see you!” He grinned, the pair of wizards soon fell into animated conversation, catching up after years. Juliette grasped both her children's hands and guided them forward, away from the entrance hall and towards the main hall. It was not surprising when hushed whispers of ‘isn’t that Felix's wife?’ and ‘they’re back in England?’ followed them. However, the witch ignored them and instead focused on seeking out her sister-in-law Druella.
“Oh, Juliette, you’re back in England?” Druella Black smiled sweetly as the younger witch nodded.
“Allow me to introduce you to my children, Evan and Hermione Rosier.” At that, Druella’s smile turned slightly sour.
“You’ve had an heir already?” She questioned, her voice slightly higher. Juliette tilted her head with a slight smirk.
“You haven’t?” She questioned, a false tone of concern laced in her voice. The older witch kept her smile plastered to her face.
“Let me introduce you to my family, though you already know them of course.” She turned and began making her way out of the room, with Juliette and her kids following her. They entered a smaller room filled with what seemed to be just for close family: basically those of the Black family and the Rosiers. It was brighter than the other rooms in the manor and clearly intended to be for the children to play, out of the way of the adults. Though it currently seemed to host Arcturus and Pollux Black, who were in heated discussion, as well as their numerous children, grandchildren and spouses. Cygnus and Orion Black stood as Juliette entered the room, as well as Walburga Black who moved beside her sister-in-law. She eyed the French witch with calculating eyes.
“You’ve met Walburga before, of course, my sister-in-law.” Druella spoke.
“Of course.” Juliette responded.
“Allow me to introduce you to my children,” Walburga suddenly raised her voice, calling for her kids. They appeared before her and she rested one of her hands on each of their shoulders. The older one was Evan’s age, and had his black hair slicked back on his head aside from a few strands that escaped. His eyes were a light, piercing grey and his face held a cheeky smile. He looked happier than Hermione had ever seen him in her previous life. The younger child, however, had curlier hair, which was left as it naturally is. Him and his brother looked very similar with matching eyes, however he seemed to be Hermione’s age and had a more subdued smile. “This is my heir, Sirius Orion,” Walburga pushed her older son slightly forward, “and my other son, Regulus Arcturus.”
Juliette smiled kindly at the children, making Sirius’ grin widen. She mimicked Walburga’s stance with her own children. “Well, this is my son Evan Ares, and my daughter, Hermione Aurélie.”
“How brave,” Walburga sneered, “giving your children filthy muggle names.”
“Not really,” Juliette replied coolly, “after all, Evan was named after his grandfather, Evander. He was hardly a muggle. Even Hermione was named after my grandmother, the famous Aurélie Delacour. I’m sure you’ve heard of her; she was one of France’s most sought after models.” Walburga bristled, clearly ready to reply but Druella interjected, sensing the tension between the witches.
“These are my daughters,” she spoke, and Juliette noticed the three girls standing in front of her. The first two were very clearly of the Black family. The oldest had wild black curls and hooded eyes of grey, a Black family trait. She looked to be around fourteen or fifteen. The middle sister had brown curls and less harsh features, though the eyes were still there. She seemed around 13. However, the youngest sister took more after the Rosier side of the family, with icy blue eyes and blonde hair, identical to that of the Rosier matriarch, Selene. “Bellatrix, Andromeda and of course Narcissa, our birthday girl.”
Juliette smiled and wished the youngest Black daughter a happy birthday. “These are your cousins, Evan and Hermione Rosier.”
“Why don’t all the children play together so we can talk,” Cygnus suggested, though it was more an order. Evan and Sirius eyed each other curiously, before both smiling at each other and walking off to another room where the kids resided while discussing Quidditch: Regulus following. Andromeda grabbed Hermione’s hand and led her to their corner, smiling kindly. There was a moment of awkward silence between the four girls before Narcissa broke it.
“I remember you,” she murmured, looking at Hermione curiously, “we saw you when you were just a baby. I remember holding you.” She looked at her sisters who nodded in confirmation.
“What was it like? Living in France?” Andromeda questioned. “We have an estate in France, but I’ve always wondered how it would feel actually living there.”
Evan interjected, “it’s so boring,” he complained, “we have no one to play with over there except our cousin Hugo, but he’s nine years older.” He contemplated for a second. “Hermione’s lucky at least. Beauxbatons has a school that starts when you're eight so she’ll at least make friends.” The attention shifted to the youngest girl in the room. Bellatrix raised her eyebrows and looked up from where she was casually picking dirt from under her nails.
“You’re not going to Hogwarts?” She asked. Hermione shook her head. She didn’t want to speak and risk sounding too mature for a five year old, after all, she was technically an adult and she hadn’t encountered many young children in either of her lives - besides Evan. Bellatrix was still eyeing her intently, before she turned her attention back to her nails. “Shame. You would’ve been with Reggie.”
“It’s Regulus. Only Sirius can call me that.” Regulus whined, causing Sirius to laugh. Andromeda however, frowned, deep in thought.
“If Hermione is going to Beauxbatons, then why did you move to England?”
Hermione spoke up quietly. “For Evan. I will live with Great-Aunt Vinda in France.” Narcissa beamed.
“I love seeing Great-Aunt Vinda! Her manor is so beautiful and she always takes me shopping when we visit. She’s like a fashion icon.” Andromeda giggled while Bellatrix groaned.
“What is it with you and fashion? Always so obsessed with clothes.” She complained. Evan ignored her and directed a question at Andromeda.
“You go to Hogwarts? What house are you?” He asked excitedly. Bellatrix answered for her.
“Slytherin, of course. Every Black has been in Slytherin; it’s the only respectable house,” the others nodded, aside from Andromeda, Sirius and Hermione. “I’m sure you will be Slytherin as well like your father, perhaps you can rub off on Sirius. It will be a wonder if he manages not to disappoint the family.”
Andromeda lightly slapped her older sister. “Oh shush, Bella, he’s only six. Give him time.” The older witch rolled her eyes, muttering ‘whatever’ under her breath.
In the dining hall. The adult Purebloods were seated at the grand oak table in the centre of the room. This birthday party seemed a prestigious event as only the Black and Rosier families had stayed for dinner; the Lestranges, Malfoys and Selwyns were in attendance earlier in the afternoon, as they were Bellatrix, Narcissa and Andromeda’s intended respectively, but had left since.
Alphard and Felix had joined the rest of the Black family adults (and Juliette) as they continued with their discussions. It seemed Walburga and Druella were once again arguing as Juliette sat between them. This time, they were ‘discussing’ the topic of heirs, and those of the Black family. “Sirius is in no way fit to be heir. His behaviour is atrocious for a Black. Bellatrix would be much better.”
“How dare you insult my heir? He is more than capable, besides Bellatrix is a girl. If we start having girl heirs, people will think we’ve gone soft like the Longbottoms or Prewetts.” Walburga seethed.
“Either we appoint Bellatrix as heir or we sign a betrothal contract immediately for one of my daughters and Sirius. I don’t care how, but I will have one of my children as head of this house.” Druella growled in response. This gathered the attention of Juliette, Felix and the Black men. Juliette cried in outrage.
“They’re first cousins! If you marry them, any children they have will be deformed. Imagine how that will make your family look.”
“Why do you care?” Druella sneered. “I bet you’re vying for a contract with the Black family as well.”
“That’s enough Druella.” Felix announced sternly. “As I’ve already stated, Evan and Hermione will not be forced into marriage contracts at their young age. They will be allowed to choose whom they marry.”
“As if Father will ever agree to that.” The witch scoffed.
“Actually, he already has.” At that, Druella bristled, her face reddening. From a young age she had been raised with the belief that all Pureblood women were good for was marriage and raising children. Her father regularly reminded her how grateful she should be to land a contract with the Black family and how disappointing it would be if she didn’t live up to their standards. Cygnus interjected in a stern voice.
“Druella. You know the girls already have betrothal contracts. Whether they are head of house or not they are still Blacks and superior to those around them.” He shot a cool look at Felix who grinned, happy to entertain the friendly rivalry the brothers-in-law had. Orion cleared his throat.
“I believe this discussion has gone off topic. I merely asked Felix what plans he had now he’s back in England.” He turned to the French wizard expectantly.
“Well, Evan, of course, will go to Hogwarts. But we’ve decided to send Hermione to Beauxbatons for the time being.” This revelation caused several people at the table to express surprise.
“Now why would you possibly do that?” Druella asked indignantly.
“It’s a decision I have come to after discussing with Aunt Vinda. She agreed to let Hermione live with her in Marseilles so she can attend the school. She really loves the girl.”
“I just fail to understand why you would stop your daughter attending Hogwarts!” His sister countered.
Felix sighed. He was hesitant to reveal this information about his daughter but he knew nobody would convey this to the Dark Lord.
Old families possess types of family magic that makes them unable to divulge any information or secrets that could possibly harm those in their family. It was one of the pros of marrying a Pureblood as if anyone with any muggle blood married into a Pureblood family, the magic would become obsolete. This magic was like taking an unbreakable vow and can only be accessed between two houses once a marriage bond has passed. Due to this, Felix decided to just tell his in-laws, knowing any excuse he made likely wouldn’t be believed.
“Hermione has been gifted with…” he looked around the table and made eye contact with his wife who nodded solemnly, “the sight.”
A couple of gasps were heard around the table. Walburga snorted. “Like Divination? What rubbish.”
Juliette shook her head. “For centuries, women born into the Rosier family have been blessed with rare types of mind magic. Which is why most Rosier women opt to go to Beauxbatons rather than Hogwarts as they educate their students on various types of magic, including Veela magic and mind magic that falls out of the Divination criteria.”
Cygnus looked disappointedly at his wife. “You never told me about this? Have you just been reading our minds this whole time?” He demanded.
“No, no, of course not,” Druella sputtered, “I’ve never had the sight!” Her cheeks reddened slightly with embarrassment about not possessing this gift. The implications that she wasn’t a proper Rosier woman embarrassed her.
Pollux Black spoke for the first time in the conversation. “What types of mind magic does young Hermione possess?” He inquired.
Felix pondered for a second before replying. “It’s hard to tell as she’s so young. It’s mostly dreams or nightmares she’s been having but from what I can tell it’s about the future. She does know things from the past and people she’s never met.”
Pollux replied, “how interesting…”
“Aunt Vinda advised me to send her to Beauxbatons. Now Grindelwald’s gone, there’s less of a threat of the Dark Lord finding out about her gift.” Several others around the table nodded and soon, the family entered a peaceful conversation with no fighting, making Narcissa’s last birthday before Hogwarts special.
August 29th 1976 - Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scottish Highlands
The family entered and seated themselves in Headmaster Dumbledore’s office. He sat before them with the usual twinkle in his eye and lemon drops on his desk. Hermione realised it was her first time seeing him since his death in 1997, and the realisation saddened her. She remembered the effect his death had on Harry.
“Welcome, Lady and Lord Rosier. I am saddened to hear of your parents death, Lord Rosier; your father was a great student of mine.” Felix didn’t bother to reply. They both knew that wasn’t necessarily true. Evander Rosier - his father - was one of Riddle’s early death eaters. While he may have regretted his actions at the end of his life, it didn’t excuse those early in his life. Brushing off the man's callousness, Dumbledore turned his attention to the children in our room. “Of course, Mr Rosier, will be entering his sixth year. I believe Miss Rosier is the reason we are here.”
Hermione swallowed and nodded. “I was hoping to be able to transfer to Hogwarts from Beauxbatons, sir, if there’s space.”
Dumbledore chuckled lightly. “Of course there’s space, dear child. Your place at Hogwarts has been secured since the day you were born. There shall be no trouble transferring you from Beauxbatons Academy.” Hermione sighed slightly in relief as the wizard continued. “I’ve already taken it upon myself to secure a copy of your student records. Madame Antoine had high praise for you when I requested them, she was rather sad to see you go.”
She blushed slightly at the praise, and muttered her thanks, causing Evan to grin at her shyness.
“Now, all that’s left is to sort you into a house.” He stopped and looked at her. “You will have the opportunity to ask for a house, but bear in mind the sorting hat does know best.” He pulled it out and beckoned Hermione onto a small stool before placing it onto her head. The sorting hat awoke.
‘I am usually only called upon once a year,’ it said
‘I suppose I’m a special case,’ Hermione responded. If the sorting hat could chuckle it would be doing so now.
‘Very special indeed, Miss Rosier…or should I say Granger?’ Hermione blinked in confusion.
‘How could you tell?’
‘Don’t worry about it, Miss Rosier. Let us focus on the task at hand, sorting you. I see I previously put you in the House of Godric Gryffindor…I don’t suppose you would want to be sorted there now?’
‘No…I have a mission I need to complete. Being Gryffindor would bring far too much attention to me. I need to be as inconspicuous as possible.’
‘I can see that. You are a very determined girl, smart too…perhaps Slytherin…though your thirst for knowledge is admirable…better be…’
‘RAVENCLAW!’
Hermione breathed out a sigh of relief, knowing how close she’d been to Gryffindor. That could’ve been disastrous to her mission - being a Sacred 28 member meant it would cause scandal. Evan looked slightly disappointed but masked it well; while her mother beamed and her father looked indifferent. Dumbledore frowned for a second before resuming his usual cheerful expression. “Congratulations, Miss Rosier. Ravenclaw will be lucky to have you. Now, Professor Flitwick will be your Head of House, if we could just finalise Miss Rosier’s classes for the coming year you can all be on your way.”
The family stayed long enough for Hermione’s classes to be confirmed, and a small exam to be written, before they made their way home through the Headmaster’s floo.
September 1st 1976 - King’s Cross Train Station, London
The siblings ran ahead of their parents on the platform, excitement evident on their faces. They were both as happy as one would’ve been in their first year at Hogwarts - though technically it was Hermione’s first year - and acting more like ten and eleven year olds, rather than the fifteen and sixteen year olds they were. Their parents indulged them, not reprimanding them for their improper behaviour, instead smiling at the siblings fondly.
Evan shrunk both him and his sisters trunks before levitating them. They headed towards the train but turned around to say goodbye to their parents. Juliette pulled them both into a hug. “Oh, mes amours , have a great time and don’t forget to write.” They both agreed before turning to their father. The man gave them a stern look.
“Be safe. That’s the most important thing. And don’t forget to look after each other.” He gave a pointed look towards Evan who nodded seriously.
The pair made their way onto the train and Evan immediately began looking into compartments for his friends. Since they were at one end of the train they passed many people, who greeted the older sibling. After a while Hermione grew restless and anxiously waited for her brother's conversations to cease so they could find a compartment. This one was particularly long, and with a boy with deep black eyes and curly hair. From what she could hear he was an Avery.
The witch fingered the brown leather-bound book in her satchel. It was protected by the strongest wards she knew in both her lives, and detailed everything she knew from her past life that would help defeat Voldemort.
One of the missions she could start now she was at Hogwarts was befriending Regulus Black. This would allow her to start on the locket horcrux and save the young boy from eventually sacrificing himself. Hermione was incredibly thankful for the days in the Forest of Dean that she and Harry had spent just talking, and that he told her about what happened in the cave. Now she knew what to expect.
Seeing her brother still distracted by his conversation, Hermione took her opportunity to wander off and look for a compartment.
She hadn’t made it far at all when she stumbled on one holding four boys around her brother's age. The Marauders , her mind supplied. All four of them were changed into their Gryffindor robes, much like she was with her Ravenclaw ones. The first boy has light scars on his face and mousy brown hair; he was tall and awkward but in an endearing way. His amber eyes shone with amusement. The next boy was chubbier and had sandy blonde hair and blue eyes. Hermione felt a shiver go up her spine as she looked at him. There was definitely something off about him. Across from the two, sat a boy with shining hazel eyes that looked quite green in the light, like Hermione’s own. He looked exactly like her Harry, aside from the glasses, he wasn’t wearing any currently. Finally, the last boy in the compartment has long, black hair and handsome grey eyes. His features were very attractive and Hermione knew at once who they all were. Remus Lupin. Peter Pettigrew. James Potter. Sirius Black.
It took them a moment to notice her and by that time she had already turned to walk away. A voice called, “hey!” and she halted in her tracks. Hermione turned to face them again, nervously. They all eyed her curiously, before the amber eyed one, Remus, spoke again. “Are you new?” She nodded. They all looked at her expectantly.
“Hermione Rosier.” Recognition dawned on Sirius’ face, and he grinned.
“Oh my god. Are you really?” He exclaimed. “I thought you were in France!”
Hermione shook her head. “No, I transferred this year.”
“Uh,” Peter started, “care to explain how you know her, Pads.”
“She was my best friend growing up!” He cheered exuberantly.
“Best friend?” Hermione scrunched up her face, “I wouldn’t say that.”
“Nonsense,” Sirius laughed her off, “you’re the only one I could stand at those stuffy Pureblood events, besides your brother, Reggie and Dromeda.” Before she could reply her brother stormed through the train to their compartment.
“Mione.” He seethed, “Father told me to look after you; don’t just storm off like that!” He looked around the compartment. “And what are you doing with them ? Come on, I still need to introduce you to some people.” The witch groaned but allowed herself to be pulled along, waving goodbye to the boys.
The Marauders compartment was, shockingly, silent, before three of the occupants striked up a conversation. The fourth one was seemingly in a daze. Sirius nudged him. “You alright, Jimmy?” Remus chuckled.
“He’s probably just thinking up ways to impress Lily this year.”
“Who?” Was the wizard’s reply. The three other boys gaped at James, but he didn’t seem to notice as he was busy staring at the spot where the Ravenclaw witch had been. He was pretty sure she was the most beautiful witch he’d ever met; with silky brown hair that fell past her shoulders and mesmerising green eyes. Perhaps he had a thing for green eyes, he mused. Her skin was unblemished and glowing; and best of all she had humour. Yep, James thought, I’ve found my future wife.
However, in a compartment slightly further down the train, Hermione couldn’t reflect on her first interaction with the Marauders, as she was subject to listening to her brother talking with his Slytherin classmates. They were all a year older and while they politely conversed with her, she wasn’t interested in any of them. The witch sighed and leaned back on the seat. This was going to be a long ride.
When the train finally reached Hogwarts, Hermione was deep in thought as she strolled silently beside her brother. This was interrupted when he tapped her gently on the shoulder to grab her attention. She tore her gaze away from the ground and towards her brother who was pointing towards three boys who had appeared near them. One Ravenclaw, like her, and two Slytherins. Evan spoke, “These boys are in your year.” He gestured towards the Ravenclaw who had light brown eyes and hair and a curious look on his face. He sort of reminded her of a puppy dog. “This is Bartemius Crouch Jr.”
“Just Barty,” the boy grinned. Evan ignored him and turned his attention to the two Slytherins. The first one had calculating grey eyes and aristocratic features. His hair was a mess of deep black curls and Hermione immediately knew this was Regulus Black, Sirius’ younger brother. However the other boy was less recognisable. He too had black hair but it was slightly shorter; less curly and more wavy. The brown colour of his eyes was light, slightly hazel and his skin was not as pale as Regulus’.
“This is Regulus Black and Rabastan Lestrange. They aren’t in your house but they’ll be able to keep an eye on you as Ravenclaw and Slytherin have many classes together.”
Hermione scowled. “I don’t need anyone keeping an eye on me!” She protested. Her brother merely rolled her eyes and dismissed the three younger boys. They each gave her one more look of interest before finding a carriage. Hermione watched them and the students around her and caught Barty’s eye, who gave her a cheeky grin. She returned it and settled into a carriage with her brother.
A lump formed in her throat and her eyes watered as the castle appeared in view. All the memories she had from her previous life came rushing back and it felt like she suddenly couldn’t breathe. Everything from her first days at Hogwarts to the battle flooded her mind and it overwhelmed her immensely. As Evan looked at his sister he knew something in her mind was bothering her. He wordlessly grabbed her hand and rubbed comforting circles on it with his thumb to calm her down. It worked and Hermione was brought back to reality. She gave her brother a watery smile and leaned her head on his shoulder.