The Biggest Sacrifice

When you begin a journey of revenge, start by digging two graves, one for your enemy and one for yourself. - Jodi Picoult

Hermione Potter had never liked pity – she never needed or wanted it.

Her life had been a mess since she was born, a murdering father, a dead mother and Grandparents that ran both hot and cold until they too were gone. She spent the first seven years of her life been passed around between family members, until she settled with her great uncle, his wife and their child.

Most people would like at it and a tragedy, a little girl suffering, something she understood once upon a time but for her it had given her a family who would keep her safe, who didn’t care for the different blood running through her veins because they loved her.

Her family was hers and it was about to be messed up by a man she wanted nothing to do with ever again but yet seemed to be finding his way to ruin everything good she had had for the last ten years.

A part of her wondered how Hermione Granger would handle this, probably not in the same panic Hermione Potter was – she would be looking at books, finding ways around the law and crying to herself in her room where no one could hear. She wouldn’t want the pity, much like Hermione – except now she wanted the pity.

Because this couldn’t be fair, she didn’t deserve this.

“Hermione?”

“I don’t -” Her voice was meek, barely even her own as the tears fell down her face and she looked to the people who had been her parents longer than her own. “Please tell me this isn’t true.”

“We wish we could, sweetheart – you know we -” Euphemia cried with her, her hand over her mouth as she tried to reach for Hermione, offer some comfort that couldn’t be given right now.

“When was this released?” Hermione asked, jumping away from Euphemia and pointing to the paper, her whole body seeming to shake as the adults looked to each other. “When was it – two days ago -” She muttered to herself as she picked up the paper and looked back up to her parents. “And you only thought to tell me now!”

“You were so excited that Lily was coming and we didn’t want to ruin that for you.” Euphemia spoke again, softer and more gentle like she did when one of her children were younger, Fleamont stayed still, his eyes narrowed on Hermione.

“I can’t believe – how could you keep this from me?” Hermione snapped her whole body shaking with rage and her ears ringing. “I don’t care if the Minister himself was coming over, I deserved to know this.” The walls seemed to shake around her as she stumbled backwards, her hands reaching out to steady herself against the side of the desk.

“Of course you did, but had to discuss it between ourselves...”

“Both of you have kept me in the dark about my own fucking father – this isn’t something you have to talk over, not when it comes to me or him!” Never in her life had she glared at her parents with as much anger as she was now, even if a part of her brain was protesting loudly.

“We understand your anger, sweetheart, you have a right to feel that but please remember that we were only doing what we thought was best for you.” Fleamont didn’t speak as soft as Euphemia, his voice was stern but his eyes were warm.

“And you thought it was best to spring this on me now?” Hermione snapped, her glare lessening but the fury still raged on inside her. “Did you see this?” The newspaper hit into his chest, his hands reaching up to catch it and hold it there. “This isn’t just some man who robbed a bank and did some years, this is a man who murdered his own wife and happily let people know who he supported.”

Would she be connected to Death eaters her whole life? In every life? One day she hoped she could have peace from all of this, that the war would be over and Voldemort dead and every single one of his supporters, her father included, would be buried in the ground beside the noseless snake.

Hermione turned back to look at her father and gulped. “If he gets out then we are dealing with a man loyal to Voldemort, who had no qualms about killing his wife, who has spent over a decade in Azkaban – a place that twists people into the worst of themselves – it will be off the cards about what he will be willing to do.”

“I will not let him hurt you if it comes to that.” Fleamont muttered sternly but there was a worry in his eyes, one that seemed to come with the pain of knowing just who Octans was. “There will still have to be a trial…”

“That he will no doubt walk away from considering half of Voldemort’s most loyal supporters are high up in the Ministry.” Hermione frowned before she let out a sigh, her anger seeming to melt away in place of fear. “It doesn’t matter what we plan, he’ll get free one way or another – it could be in a month or in the next year but he will be free.”

“We will protect you.”

“He will kill you all too if he wants to.” Hermione ground her teeth together, her already frayed patience seeming to be all but gone with the innocent way her parents were acting. “Not just because you have me here with you but because you are a part of Dumbledore’s Order.”

Fleamont’s strange eyes turned wide and Euphemia placed a hand over her mouth, both of them looking like Hermione had slapped the pair of them.

“How did you know?”

“Because I’m not stupid.” Hermione hissed out as her parents gulped and looked away from her as she smiled sarcastically. “It’s fine, I can have one father risking his life to fight the one who wants to kill us all.”

“Not yet you don’t.” Fleamont pointed out before he let out a sigh. “And hopefully he won’t get out – we have to have hope.” Hope was the fucking devil, all it did was hurt you in the long run.

“Excuse me for not having hope about my murdering son of a bitch father.” Hermione fought back, her teeth clenched as she turned to glare at Fleamont, eyes flashing dangerously and the whole room seeming to rumble slightly.

“Hermione -”

“I was three, when he killed her for taking me away, from what I gathered he never showed any interest in me before – if he could kill his own wife then he won’t think twice about either of you.” Hermione pointed to the two of them as her stomach twisted painfully.

She’d never learnt how they died in the other life, older than most parents she had just assumed that perhaps it had been age but looking at them now they were still too young for that. Something had happened between James being at school and Harry being born, otherwise they would have taken their grandchild.

It gave her something to worry about now. If Octans Potter was to be released, and he came for her for whatever reason, what would he do to them? They were in as much danger as herself.

“If they decide to go through with it then I can’t stay here any longer.” Her voice wobbled as she looked at the panicked eyes, her stomach twisting in pain. “I refuse to put any of you in danger – you are my family and I won’t let him take that away.”

Fleamont let out a laugh, moving towards her to bend down to her eye level, his own eyes strangely glazed. “My fierce daughter, my daughter, if you think we are going to let you go anywhere in the name of our protection then we haven’t done a very good job raising you.” He chuckled warily at the end.

“I won’t -”

“It is our job to protect you, it always has been, and we will not be handing our responsibilities to someone else.” Fleamont added, cutting her off as Euphemia nodded her head and wiped her wet cheeks.

“What about James? It’s not right to put him in danger.” Hermione called, frowning at her father.

“James would not let you leave this house without him, he would follow you to the ends of the Earth, just as we would because we are a family and we stick together.” Euphemia joined with a scoff as Hermione clicked her tongue – James would see it as some big adventure.

It was almost tempting, to climb through the forest with him as she had once done with his son. She could almost hear his half-witty remarks, see the crooked grin on his face and his constant need to cheer things up, but she would never do that to him.

“For now we enjoy our time, and if Octans ends up coming out, which will be decided months from now, we will discuss and protect one another then.” Fleamont stroked her hair as Hermione let a whimper and moved into his hand. “You aren’t going anywhere, sweetheart.”

Hermione let out a sigh, the tears falling from her eyes as she turned to look at Euphemia, all but running into the womans arms and crying into her neck. “Mum...I’m sorry…”

“My sweet girl, you never have to apologise to me – it is an emotional situation.”

How lucky she had been in her life to have two people who loved her so much they would risk everything to keep her here. Another sigh left her mouth as she opened her eyes and offered her mother a watery smile, eyes straying to focus broken photo frame on his desk and the knocked down books.

“What happened there?” Hermione pointed out, wiping her cheeks as Fleamont and Euphemia looked towards the desk with frowns, before giving her matching tense smiles.

“Nothing we need to worry about for the minute.”

…

Hermione sighed as she shut Fleamont’s office behind her, leaning against the door and resting her head on the old wood. Why did her life always have to be so tiring?

“...Albus, Fleamont.” Hermione frowned, leaning her head sideways and listening to her parents as they spoke in hushed whispers. Briefly she thought of turning away but then Euphemia was whispering again. “What is gets worse?” If what gets worse?

“What will he be able to do?” Fleamont hissed back, sounding more defensive. “She doesn’t need to be poked and prodded over something that clearly was an emotional reaction.” Were they speaking about her?

“She is at a pivotal moment in her life, it will do her no good to be...what if it happens again?” Euphemia pleaded with her husband, sounding a second away from crying and it made Hermione feel guilty over whatever it was that she had done.

“My love, I know you worry, but she has more control than we give her credit for – today was an exception and one we should understand.” Fleamont spoke softer now.

“Flea accidental ma -”

“Hermione?” Hermione turned her head with a frown to see her friends and brother stood before her with frowns, a grin on his face as he pointed to the door. “Are perhaps eavesdropping?”

Hermione pulled away, pulling down her shirt and wiping her eyes of any tears as she tried not to let her anger show at being interrupted from listening to whatever her parents were going to say, the door now seeming to just project a buzzing in her ears. Muffliato, great.

“No, James.”

Her head ached something awful now that everything had set in and her friends were staring at her with wide eyes, waiting for her to tell them something.

Hermione bowed her head, pushing herself off the door and moving past her friends and towards the staircase, her whole body was aching now and they were all following behind her, almost pressed against her back in their eagerness.

“...ask her.”

“No, you.”

“Hermione?” Remus spoke, wincing when Hermione turned from her way up the stairs, one hand on the railing, her tired eyes focusing on the group at the bottom of the stairs.

“You want to know what we spoke about?” Hermione asked them all as they nodded their heads. “Octans may be released, or it’s looking like they will lean that way.” It hurt to say, to admit out loud, hurt to see their faces staring at her in shock and worry.

“Shit, really?” Sirius whispered to her, taking a step onto the stairs.

“Yes, really, now as you can imagine it’s quite daunting to hear and also tiring – so I would really like to go to bed and just not think about this.” Hermione muttered, taking a step to turn around only for James to stop her, holding onto her hand.

“Wait a minute...I need – are you ok?”

“Obviously not.”

“Sorry, stupid question...what I meant is, will be ok?” Hermione couldn’t help but stare at the boy, fifteen and taller than her, taller than his son had been, his face resembled Harry so much but his eyes were something else. Hazel and bright, so full of knowledge and understanding of the situation.

Everyone had always told Harry how much he was like his father but Hermione honestly thought there had never been anyone like James in all her lives. No one with his capability of humour and seriousness, of offering comfort and annoyance. Of being a complete and utter pleb one minute and a sweet brother and friend the next.

He meant more to her than anyone else, a true companion and best friend – her family for as long as she wanted.

“Yeah, of course.” Her voice cracked slightly but she offered him a gentle smile and squeezed his hand, he seemed content with the answer, nodding his head and offering her a crooked smile. “It’s just been a lot for one day though, I think I will go to bed – I’m sorry it had to happen tonight Lily, you can go if you would like.”

To her surprise, Lily look both amused and shocked. “Go where?”

“Home, after everything -”

“I’m not going anywhere – I came to stay for a few days so I will stay for a few days.” Hermione couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on her face as those beautiful emerald eyes focused on her.

“I just thought -”

“Well you thought wrong, I’m not going to leave you.” Normally she would have been annoyed if someone kept daring to cut her off, but this time she couldn’t help but smile and looked down to hide her tear filled eyes. “Now go and get a good nights rest and we’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Thank you and I will – I’ll see you all in the morning.”

...

Despite the tiredness and the dread of the situation, Hermione couldn’t sleep, even as she laid in bed, one of James’ jumpers and a pair of night shorts, all she could seem to do was stare at the ceiling, like sideways on the bed, her feet dangling over the edge and her hands resting on her stomach while her thoughts moved through her mind like firebolt.

The door open with a slight squeak and Hermione didn’t have to look up to see who was entering, the smell freshly smoked cigarettes, grass and tobacco invaded her nose and numbed the slight bit of panic in her brain.

“I could’ve been sleeping, you know.” Hermione mumbled out, turning her head to look as he raised his eyebrows at her. “Or naked.”

“I was hoping you would be – what a shame.” He moved towards the bed, a grin on his face as he dived beside her, laying on his side and resting on his elbows as his silver eyes shone in the night. “I like these shorts though.” His fingers moved the rim of the fabric quickly and then his hand was gone.

“Hm, so did you play rock, paper, scissors about who got to come in here, can’t imagine James being too happy it was you.”

“No he moaned, tried to pull the family card and everything but ultimately, they knew the big handsome Wizard would be better for you.” He tapped her nose as he smirked and Hermione couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

“Oh really, so when is Remus getting here?” Her voice was light as she raised herself to her elbows and looked towards the door in eagerness while Sirius looked like a sad little puppy. “I’m joking, not about Remus being handsome, but you should see your face…” Her smile died slightly as she laid back onto the bed.

“Lucky for me then that I was lying and no one knows I’m here.”

“So you’re just sneaking into girls rooms in the middle of the night for a chat, why am I not surprised.” Hermione spoke dryly, raising an eyebrow as Sirius scoffed and laid beside her, his arm brushing hers. “Why are you here so secretly then?”

“Because I understand – maybe not to some extent but I know what it’s like to hate your own family.” He spoke so, for lack of better word, seriously but it was gone within a flash when he grinned at her instead. “Hah, I suppose our family – ew no, I don’t like that, it creeps me out.” It creeped her out too.

“Regulus doesn’t deserve your hate, he’s not like your parents.”

“Reg is a like arse licker who will do what dear old mother tells him.” She expected more than tired anger and a slight frown, though she wasn’t even sure why but before she could ask, he waved her question away with his hand and turned to lay firmly on his side. “I didn’t come here to talk about them anyway.”

“I don’t think you are sure what you came to talk to me about.” She tried for humour again, wincing when he took her hand and held it in his own.

“I came to make sure you were alright.” His voice was soft, like butter, tightening her throat and making her eyes sting. “I know you said to James that you would be but – Merlin, this isn’t something that you have to force yourself to be fine with.” She knew that, of course she did but sometimes it wasn’t that easy.

“What else can I do?”

“You could -”

“He’s still locked up for now, he could be for months – I am underage, if I left or tried to hunt him down then I would be caught and locked up myself by either the Aurors or my parents.” Her words sounded far away to her own years, muffled by her body turning to the side so they could lay face to face, hands entwined and eyes on each other.

“You would leave?”

“If I thought it would protect my family then yes.” It was an honest answer, one that both of them knew.

Hermione had suffered enough with losing people, more than anyone actually knew, she had seen first hand what people would do to get to her or someone else. Granted, leaving didn’t always mean people were safe but it could help if the Death Eaters were instead of a wild goose chase after her, with just enough crumbs to leave her family alone.

Though they all knew she would come back in a heartbeat if her family was injured – like an aggressive dog ready to protect her own.

Instead she patted Sirius’ hands and offered him a gentle smile. “But you don’t have to worry, I don’t want to go anywhere and mum and dad won’t let that happen.”

“And maybe he won’t be let out.”

“It’s easier to believe he will be, then I won’t have to face disappointment.”

“And you mentioned hunting him down?” He looked so worried that her heart ached a bit.

“Not anytime soon but he murdered my mother, Sirius – tell me you wouldn’t act the same?” Her voice was soft, her hand gripping his tightly but her words almost came through clenched teeth and her stomach twisted painfully.

Once upon a time she had been something of a voice of reason, trying to stop her friends from doing what she wished to do now – had thought there would be nothing that could come from revenge but times were different and so was she.

Nothing could take away the pain of losing a mother, of her mother being forcefully taken from her, she was aware of this but her father did not deserve to live. And a sick vindictive part of her wanted to see him begging for his life and know that no mercy was going to come.

“I honestly don’t think I would care if my father killed my mother, I might even celebrate.” Sirius broke her from her thoughts and caused her to roll her eyes.

“So then imagine something else, what if someone you cared about betrayed the people you love?” Her voice was quiet but there was a harshness behind it. “For example, Peter -”

“Why Peter?”

“He’s not here. Imagine Peter betrayed, James or Remus or me, and it got us killed, what would you do then?” She already knew but she watched him as his eyes narrowed and his tongue came out to wet his lips. She almost wanted to tell him everything but there would be nothing good that could come out of that at this moment in time.

“I would hunt him down and probably hurt or kill him.” He said it with such certainty but his eyes looked away from her. “Alright, I get your point but Mi’, you’re not a killer – your mother wouldn’t want you to be.”

Which mother? She thought but didn’t say aloud.

Mrs Granger would have no idea what to even say about the situation, Hermione Granger had all but stopped telling her things the moment they went from bad to worse. And now she was nothing more than a fading memory in Hermione’s head, even if she existed now – studying and living her life – it wasn’t like Hermione could speak to her.

Marie was someone else who Hermione couldn’t possibly ask nor know how she would respond, gone before her time because of the man Hermione wanted gone, but Hermione wanted to hope that her birth mother would understand her reasoning.

It was Euphemia who proved the most difficult for Hermione, her mother for perhaps a longer period of time as being a witch. She had raised Hermione, and it would kill her, regardless of the situation to think her daughter was out for revenge like some Slytherin but they all knew a part of her would understand, would still take Hermione back into her arms and offer her love.

People would always frown down for her plans, and what she was willing to do but she knew the truth in all of them, that if they were pushed enough they would do it too.

“Hermione…?”

“Have you heard from Peter yet?” Hermione asked as he frowned at her. “Bringing him up made me think about him.” She offered weakly even as he scoffed and looked at her in disbelief.

“No we haven’t, he isn’t responding to any of our letters.” It was already starting, earlier than before – because she was here, because the seed of doubt had been placed earlier. It both filled her with relief and worry.

With Peter gone, it would mean the future was more up in the air than before. No more spying, no more Halloween worry but also the possibility of something else going wrong – of someone else defecting, of not knowing where Voldemort would be when the time comes.

There were far too many possibilities now, too many outcomes that made her stomach turn and her mind begin to show her images she never wanted to see – Sirius, haunted from Azkaban, dying not two years after escaping unjust imprisonment; Remus grey, alone, only to get everything he wanted and then be taken away from it; Marlene murdered with her whole family, the name McKinnon lost in a single night; and the Potters, Lily and...her Jamie cruelly taken from the world and their son.

The future she was trying to stop, that she would only know about in a few years and it tore her up and brought fresh tears to her eyes.

…

The Next Day

“Well isn’t this cosy.” Hermione winced, opening her eyes slightly despite knowing the voice that was above her, and the arms that were holding her to a chest, legs all tangled together despite the fact that they hadn’t fallen asleep that way.

“Morning Jamie.”

“Oh don’t morning Jamie me – I’ve been worried all night only to find you being felt up by my best friend.” Hermione rolled her eyes as she gently pulled herself away Sirius, moving her feet so James could sit on the edge of the bed. “How are you?”

“I’ve been better.” She had also been a lot worse.

“I can imagine anyone would feel better without Sirius’ grabby hands.” He rolled his eyes as Sirius shifted slightly, a frown on his face and his hands reaching for something that wasn’t there. “I won’t force you to talk about it now, not when I’m sure our friends are about to burst in and with him here, but…”

“Of course, I want to talk to you about everything.” It was true, she wanted to tell him every last thing that she was feeling, let out everything that was eating her alive – but mainly she wanted to talk to him because she trusted him.

Neither could elaborate as the door burst open and Marlene strolled in with a grin, Lily reaching to stop the door before it could hit the wall and Remus all pink cheeked and unsure, and Sirius startling awake.

“Well isn’t this cute.” Marlene commented, gesturing to where Sirius was now sat side to side with Hermione, rubbing his eyes and yawning. “You know, Mi’, I never thought you would have the balls to sneak Sirius into your room, let alone sleep beside him.”

“We were talking and fell asleep, don’t let your imagination run wild, McKinnon.” Sirius bit out, his voice raspy as his bloodshot silver eyes narrowed in annoyance.

“Trust me, Black, you’d love what my imagination is cooking up.” Marlene leered at the pair of them, her eyes drifting downwards as Hermione shifted her shorts that no one had thought to tell her had moved in her sleep. “Though judging by your crotch situation, you already have some images of your own.” Hermione’s cheeks blushed as she kept her eyes forward.

“You’re disgusting.”

“It’s morning, and as you know Marlene, that’s a common time for a man to be...well in this situation.”

“You’re both disgusting and I regret coming in here.” Lily spoke, looking a little green in her face as Hermione raised her eyebrows.

“I’d say you get used to it but you don’t – how these two are the ones dating more people than any of us is insane.” Remus sighed loudly, his hands still in his pockets and a cheeky grin on his face as he leaned closer to Lily and ignored James’ glare.

“Rude, Moony.”

“Seriously – you might as well just date each other.” Hermione’s throat tightened as she tried her best to ignore the gut wrenching feeling that idea brought, her eyes narrowing and glaring at the floor, giving her enough chance to see James looking more uncomfortable with that suggestion than her.

“Ew, no thanks.”

“He’d never be so lucky.”

“Lucky? It would be like shagging a sister – no never.”

“No worse than wanting to shag your- “

“Remus, shut up.” Sirius snapped but his voice came out like a squeak, his eyes looking anywhere other than Hermione.

“Why are you all in my room?” Hermione asked with a sigh.

“Breakfast time...I guess you’re lucky we came in here to wake you up, can’t imagine Uncle Flea will be happy about seeing this.” Hermione winced but she had to agree, her father would flip out if he found her and Sirius alone in her room, despite being fully dressed.

…

Hermione silently slipped out of the house, wrapping her thin cardigan around her shoulders and staring out into the Potter garden, the trees reaching to the night’s sky and the stars twinkling above in order to offer a faint but pretty light.

She could hear them all inside, talking and laughing about whatever it was they had been discussing long before her need for air and quiet.

They seemed so free, free from the problems of murdering families and the future, so young and carefree from the problems that life might try and hand them sooner or later – she both envied and loved it, not that she would ever say that out loud.

Yet a part of her couldn’t help but wonder if this was how Harry had felt, surrounded by friends who didn’t bare the same weight on his shoulders, but yet showed him love and offered him family in another way. He had always craved a simple life and she understood that now too.

Maybe one day she would be lucky, when the wars were over, her duty ended, and the past and her future was nothing more than a distant dream, maybe she would be able to enjoy a simple life.

The thought almost made her laugh.

“Are you cold?” Hermione turned her head to see James quietly closing the door behind him, eyes peering over his glasses to look at her, a smile making it’s way to her face as she watched him.

Her past and future was so far away and it had been so long since that part of her arrived, since she had seen those people that their faces looked almost muddled in her mind, warped by the passing of time and their voices nothing more than a whisper in her ear.

Except Harry’s, with her life surrounded by James and Lily, it was hard to forget what Harry looked like or how he sounded when James was just a posher more annoying version. He was the one thing that stuck out clearly from Hermione Granger’s memories and was made hard to forget.

“No, I’m fine, just need a minute.” Hermione whispered, finally answering James’ question as he moved to sit on the grass beside her. “How long before they notice we’ve gone?”

“We have some time yet, Marlene and Remus were playing chess and I think Sirius is set on annoying Lily by listing every prank we’ve ever pulled that she couldn’t figure out how we did it.”

“Bet that’s driving her insane.” Hermione let a small smile take over her face, picking at the grass beside her hands and rolling over the blades between her fingertips.

“I can try and get them to ease up a bit if today was too much.” As always, he understood what was bothering her more than she tried to let on – showed what other people failed to link with him; observance.

“Because that will get everyone, including mum, dad and you, to stop.” Her voice was more hostile than she intended, a deep sigh leaving her mouth as she closed her eyes. “I understand it comes from a place of love but trying to swarm me with it is doing nothing but remind me of the fact that you all think I’m going to break.” Like a delicate vase on a tilted mantel piece.

“Mi’, we don’t think that.”

“Of course you do and I don’t blame you – no one else here is at risk of witnessing their murdering biological father leaving a prison he was supposed to be in for life.” The words tasted like acid on her tongue, burning their way up her throat and scorching the air around them.

“No, I can’t say we are.” James spoke softly but his eyes burned through the nights sky. “But that doesn’t mean we think you are fragile, just – that – well…” He sucked in a breath and pursed his lips, seeming to need a moment.

“Spit it out Jamie.”

“We’re worried about how you are actually dealing with this…” She couldn’t quite understand, how were they expecting her to take this news?

“It’s been a day.” Hermione responded with a frown, hands clutching the grass tighter, feeling the strain of the blades below as they were torn away from the root.

“And you’re you.” James all but spat out before he shook his head and clicked his tongue. “You’re not, and never have been, exactly open about how you feel and we worry that something is going to push you over the edge one day.”

The words stung like a slap, but she knew it was the truth.

Once upon a time, Hermione Granger had been as open as a book, her heart on her sleeve for everyone to see – crying for everyone to hear. She had been emotional and a rational thinker, despite what war had thrown at her. Hermione Potter sometimes missed that person.

But Hermione Potter had lived a very different life, a life with people who spent their days behind a cold mask and harsh words, and despite her time with Fleamont and Euphemia, a part of her lived behind keeping her thoughts to herself, away from her family. For how exactly could she tell them who a part of her was or keep them safe if they were to learn the truth?

It would mean capture and death for the lot of them if Voldemort found out.

“You’ve always been strong, Hermione, through everything life has thrown at you, you’ve always had this strength around you that let’s people know that the next day you’ll get up and keep going no matter what, even if it’s killing you inside, even if it means forcing a smile and lying through your teeth.” James’ voice broke through her worried thoughts.

“The world doesn’t stop for me, James, they don’t have time for me to sit and cry.” Hermione whispered out, turning to look at her brother, the glasses slipping down his nose and the hazel eyes burning into her own.

“Maybe not out there but in here, with us, we have all the time in the world.” She didn’t doubt it and a part of her wanted to take it. To confess everything but she couldn’t.

“And how long does that last before you all grow tired of it, before your own problems take front and centre stage in your life?” Hermione asked not unkindly. “I refuse to be a bad friend who people can’t speak to because their problems feel small compared to my own.” Her voice rose slightly and a her frown deepened as James sighed.

“That’s not -”

“Everyone knows the ins and outs of my life, they don’t need me to tell them how horrible the first few years of my life were and honestly I don’t want to go around speaking about it.” Hermione’s tone was that of their mothers, one that spoke finality.

“Fine.” James hissed out, spreading out his legs in front of him and leaning back on his arms. “Sirius told me what you said to him.” And here came the real reason he was out here beside her, because Sirius couldn’t stop from opening his mouth.

“I said a lot of things.” Hermione whispered out.

“About hunting down Octans.” She winced as the words came out but James kept his focus on her as though they were speaking simply about the weather.

“Let me guess, he was worried I was going to do something, despite that when I gave him the same option he agreed with me?” Hermione asked, with a frown as James rubbed his eyes and pushed his glasses further up his nose.

“He didn’t want you to do something stupid.”

“Trust me, I’m not going to do anything stupid anytime soon.”

“Doubtful – you are a Gryffindor, recklessly brave, it runs in our veins.” James spoke with a shrug of his shoulders before he pursed his lips and carried on speaking. “I want you to know I understand, while I might not agree with it, just promise me that if that day comes, you aren’t going in alone.” Her mouth opened in shock.

“James…”

“We stick together, Mi’, if one of us is feeling murderous then the other buries the body and keeps their mouth shut.” He was going for humour but Hermione couldn’t help but feel her heart warm slightly. “I go with you or you don’t go at all.” An ultimatum.

“I’m not going to ask that of you or anyone else.” Hermione hissed out, leaning closer to him so she could glare at him but he just stared down at her with a frown.

“We’re family, Hermione, through his stick and twisted means, which means that when he hurt you, he hurt me too and therefore I want him gone and out of your life as much as you do.” Something clicked in her jaw as she moved away, cursing his loyalty and love for his family.

Never in her life had she met someone who was so devoted to their own, maybe she just had been unlucky in this life. Yet, she admired it, need it but she refused to let him give his own life for hers, not when she wasn’t that deserving.

So instead she settled for a deep sigh, looking away from him and down at the ground, rubbing her hand against the shortened grass. “I’m scared, James.”

“Me too.”

“I promise I won’t go after Octans, not without thinking it through or having a well thought out plan, and I won’t go alone but I need…” Her tongue came out to wet her lip as she finally turned to face him again. “I need you to make me a promise in return.” His eyes narrowed and his head tilted to the side.

“Of course, anything.” He would do anything for his family, blindly and stupidly, but right now she needed that.

“Promise me that if there ever comes a time where you have to pick between yourself and me or your friends, that you will always pick yourself.” She leaned closer to him, watched the annoyance flow through his eyes and his head begin to shake.

“Hermione -”

“And that you keep your wand on you at all times, that you’ll always be prepared for battle when it comes.” Her next words were whispered as she looked down to see his wand poking out of his pocket, his hand reaching to grip it.

“I don’t...Hermione.” His voice was stern, eyes wide as she itched closer to him and gave him a small smile.

“Promise me, James.” Her hands gripped either side of his face, holding him there to look at her as she stared in those beautiful hazel eyes. “Because I can’t live in a world without you.” Her voice shook as his frown deepened.

“And you think I can live in one without you?” He asked, as she shrugged her shoulders, his hands reaching to pull her hands away and hold them tightly between his own. “Hermione, you know I can’t!”

“James, please, just promise me, one day you’ll understand.” She promised that to herself, that one day she would tell him everything, whether he believed her not, when it was safe and there was no need to hide – when he, Lily and Harry were all together.

“Ah...fine...I promise.”