I know You
How blessed are some people,
whose lives have no fear, no dreads;
to whom sleep is a blessing that comes nightly,
and brings nothing but sweet dreams.
- Bram Stoker
Monday the 24th of January 1977
The smell of ash and something sickly sweet, was what caught her attention first as opened her eyes, the sight of Hogwarts crumbled and burning before her making her frown as she looked around, a lump forming in her throat and tears in her eyes.
This was her home. And it was destroyed.
But that wasn’t right. Hogwarts had stopped being her home the moment her and Dumbledore had stopped seeing eye to eye and he did what he did. It was nothing more than castle she had remained for the past six years, slowly growing more eager to leave this place.
Yet it still meant something to her, the place where she had met her friends, had relationships and grown. And for other people it was the only home they had ever known, important and broken before her in a way that made her feel sympathy for them.
Moving forward, Hermione tried to ignore the way her feet crunched on things, not willing to look down and see what it was, but she couldn’t stop her eyes as they moved over the faceless bodies scattered around on the way to the courtyard. Nothing more than blank faces and bright hair, nothing to give away how they died or who they might have been.
Because Dumbledore had taken it away from her.
He had taken this whole moment, and grief that came with losing people. That came with the war that had clearly happened here. He had stolen it from her and left with nothing more than a distant sad and empty feeling as she entered the castle through it’s shattered door.
More bodies laid just outside the Great Hall, worse than the last and more vaguely familiar, their hair a mix of reds, browns and blondes, their bodies almost huddled together as Hermione tried not to let the tears fall.
These people, whoever they were, she would do her best to save them from this fate. They deserved more than what had happened here.
Breathing deeply she moved away and towards the Great Hall, stepping over some bricks and using her left hand to push open the broken door and cringing at the whining sound it let out before stepping past and letting go as she looked around the Great Hall.
Gone were the candles and night sky, the comfort that made it so cosy, instead remained shattered glass and scorch marks on the tables, floors and walls – like a battle had taken place inside. It no longer resembled what it should have been, what she had always known it to be.
Except for the teachers table at the end, windows behind it smashed, but Hermione couldn’t care less about it as she stumbled forward, begging her feet to run towards the bodies that sat in chairs usually reserved for their teachers, head bowed almost like they were asleep, but she knew better – she knew if she shook them that they wouldn’t wake, yet it didn’t stop her from trying.
“Jamie.” Her voice didn’t sound like her own as she stumbled up the stairs, tears running down her face and a new anger burning through her as her brother didn’t respond.
None of them did. And her anger turned to the man in the middle, crooked glasses slipping off his nose, older than he had been when she had last seen him, but still the same old man who was the reason for all of this. And she hated him.
Hated that her friends were sat on either side of him, no doubt an important role in whatever plan he would hatch. James, Lily and Remus to the left – the latter looking older than her brother and best friend, his hair greying and deeper scars littered his skin, but still gone despite whatever age he was.
And to the right there was Sirius, Marlene and Regulus, thought this time it was the former than remained older, handsome but still haggered looking, thinner than he should have been with an air of sadness, and a littering of tattoos visible through the low cut of his baggy shirt.
One last look at her brothers young face, slight stubble there and worried look had her letting out something mixed between a choked sob and a growl as her hand reached for her wand and her eyes focused back on the man sat in the middle.
She couldn’t lose any of them, but she couldn’t lose Jamie. Before him, her life and family had been nothing but a deep sadness, a reminder of what she should have had but didn’t. He had been the one to show her what true family was, to treat her like the sister he claimed she was despite the distance their blood actually had.
He was her brother, her other half, and no one was going to take him, nor her friends away from her. Nor was some twisted old man going to be the reason they left her.
Her wand raised, arm moving back and ready to coil like a snake waiting to bit, when another hand gripped hers and pulled the wand from her.
A hiss left her tongue as she turned around, ready to give whoever this was a tongue lashing and maybe a jinx when her words caught in her throat with a gasp. “Jamie?” She whispered as she looked up at the man in question.
Though despite her claim, she already knew he wasn’t her brother. His skin was a tinge lighter, his nose a bit shorter, and his eyes were the wrong shape and colour, an emerald green instead of the bright hazel she was used to seeing everyday, and maybe he was a bit taller and skinner than even her lanky brother. But there was no doubt of the resemblance of the man before her.
“Were you really going to curse him?” He asked, the tone and accent slightly off as Hermione opened her mouth and looked to Dumbledore in question before turning around to frown at the man.
Her hand reached out to snatch the wand back from him as she hissed, pointing it at him instead as he raised his hands, eyes wide behind his glasses and a frown forming. “What right do you have to take my wand? Who even are you?”
“I don’t mean any harm.”
“How can I think any different when you take my wand and pretend to be my brother.” Hermione snapped, but her wand lowered as he rolled his eyes at her, seeming more amused than annoyed at this point, but all it did was anger her. “Tell me or I’ll -”
“You know my Hermione was never quite as vicious.” He spoke calmly as he looked her up and down, not in the way other boys had done but like he was trying to find something before he sighed and offered her a timid smile, one she had never seen on her brothers face.
But she felt stuck in place. His Hermione. Not her. No he didn’t have a clue who she was but the other one that remained blocked in her head and unable to offer her any sort of answers but instead a familiar sense of Deja Vu and an itchy scar on her head.
“It’s annoying, isn’t it?” He asked, looking to where her hand had raised before he raised his own hand. A scar in the centre of his forehead, one bigger and more prominent than her own – and one that had a frown taking over her face as she tried to remember why it was so important.
“What do you want?” She asked as her wand finally lowered and he moved around her to stare at all of the faces, his gaze drifting more to James, Lily and Remus before it settled on Sirius.
“My Hermione would have been mortified to know the things you have done and want to do with him.” He spoke with a teasing smile as he moved to stand before Sirius, his hands resting on the table and a sigh leaving his mouth that sounded both heavy, sad and perhaps a slightly bit relieved.
“Why?” Hermione asked before she could stop herself, moving to stand beside him, her eyes welling up as she looked at the bowed head of black waves, silver eyes closed. “She never had the balls to do it?”
The boy laughed in a different way than James, almost like he wasn’t sure if he should before he turned to look at her. “Let’s just say the Sirius we knew was not the spry and fun one you know – but more like this man before us, and maybe more broken.”
The sadness was back as Hermione forced herself to look at the man, the older Sirius. He certainly looked the part of a broken man, someone who might have been through hell and back, but he was no more broken than the Sirius that she knew and cared for now – the one who held onto things and couldn’t seem to find his way out of the maze he was forced into.
But the boy didn’t seem to know that as he reached out to brush some of the waves, revealing more of Sirius’ face as Hermione turned away with a hiss.
“Could you not.” She whispered, closing her eyes against the tears. She didn’t want to see that, there was a reason she hadn’t reached out to touch them, that she had just left them all there and tried not to look too hard. “Please just…”
“You really care for him, don’t you?” He whispered, almost sounding amazed as she turned back around to face him, his hands in his pockets and his eyes on her as she frowned at him, her mouth open to fight back before it closed, what good would it do to fight with him. “I mean, there’s been lots of people that you’ve cared for, but never like him – never someone that you would go back to without question.”
“You make it sound like I’m a pushover.” She snorted out, even if she felt like it could have been true – especially when it came to him.
“Not at all, maybe just someone on the verge of falling.” He raised his eyebrows as she tried not to blush and shook her head, it wasn’t anywhere near that and maybe it wouldn’t ever be unless they sat down and spoke. “Though I can say I don’t think I’ve ever seen you love someone as hard as you’ve loved him and visa versa.”
Hermione watched, her arms crossed as he moved towards James, the resemblance even clearer as he stood before the man, not reaching out to touch and sad mixed something else, something she couldn’t quite name, even as he turned to look at her.
He was right though. There were things she would only do for James, he came first, even before other people and perhaps until the time she had children.
“You’ve looked after him, and you will until the end and for that I can only say thank you.” He whispered, eyes strangely misty as he coughed and stepped away before moving towards Lily. “Even now she looks so beautiful.” A small noise left his mouth, like it was hard to get the words out as his hand itched towards Lily.
For some reason she couldn’t say, she didn’t want him looking at them. Didn’t want him to see them like that, but how she saw them everyday, smiling and joking, being an amazing brother and a great best friend. Two people she could trust and who she would do her best to save from whatever this sick situation was.
Before she could speak he was moving on to stand before Remus, a frown on his face. “It’s a shame he never got to watch him grow up.” She had no idea what he was talking about but his words settled uncomfortably around her and made her move forward but the boy was speaking again. “I remember when I found out what he was, I was scared at first, but then I wished there was something I could do to make it easier – I don’t doubt that you wish the same too.”
“Short of turning into an animal, I’m not sure what I can do.”
“Make something, or find someone who can, if not to ease the pain but to keep the wolf at bay...though I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” That teasing smile was back again as he moved past her to stand before Marlene and Regulus, a sad smile forming on his face before she could even ask what he was talking about. “It’s a shame I never got to meet them.”
“You never – you don’t know them?” She asked despite how she knew it to be true. They looked much too young, barely older than they did now and it raised even more panic inside her.
“I heard things, not so much about Marlene – though it wasn’t a nice way to go...but I heard about him.” He spoke softly, a sad and impressed smile on his face, confusing to look at. “Sirius never really spoke but we managed to figure a few things out, tragic what happened, but he did help.” The smile become even more proud as Hermione frowned, moving to stand in front of him before he moved onto Dumbledore.
“So he’s on the right side?” She asked with raised eyebrows. “He does actually want to help us?”
The boy smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “You know as much as I do, things have changed, I could never say for sure.” He spoke before moving around her to stand before Dumbledore. “I remember thinking he was the best thing ever, that without him we would never win, but then what he did to you...what he did to me…”
“He’s a bastard, one that has far too much power and one that will be the cause of all of this.” Hermione hissed out as she glared at the old man, shaking her head and turning around to look back at the destroyed Great Hall, feeling the boys arm brush her own as he stood beside her. “I might not remember what happened, or who you are, but I know that much for certain...Albus Dumbledore is not someone to be trusted.”
She wished she had figured it out earlier, when she was younger and remembered, when the first hint of his meddling ways had began to spring into sight and she had ignored them and then it had been too late.
But it seemed this boy had the same problem too, looking conflicted, like he couldn’t decide what to think any more or perhaps he didn’t want to admit what he already knew. She could understand how it must feel, to watch someone with such high standing and wisdom to be once again seen as nothing more than a man capable of making mistakes and thinking himself too great.
Dumbledore’s ego was bigger than James’ and Sirius’ combined.
“You could just leave.” He muttered beside her as she turned to face him once more, shorter with her arms crossed but he regarded her with amusement as he crossed his own arms.
“I’ve never been one to back down and run away.” Hermione muttered.
“No you haven’t – and you’ve never been one to give in when you know what happened isn’t right.” He looked at her pointedly before his gaze rested on her small scar and he shook his head. “Remembering is the only way you can fix all of this, otherwise you are never going to know what’s coming or if it needs changing.” He added with a frown as she gritted her teeth.
“Well you are here aren’t you, can’t you just tell me what it is I am supposed to do?” She asked, anger in her voice as he shook his head and let out a small snort.
“Kill Voldemort and end the war.” He spoke as though it was easy before he began walking towards the door, long legs making strides as she struggled to keep up behind him without having to break into a jog.
“I gathered that much but how?” She asked as she rushed forward, placing her hands on his arms and stopping him in his tracks as he looked down at her in confusion. “I know it’s not as easy as getting a lucky shot in, there’s something more, something important that I’m missing or maybe multiple somethings – and I’ve been trying to figure it out but I can’t without some help.” Her voice was pleading as she let go of him and took a step backwards.
“The brightest witch admitting she needs help, a sight I thought I would never see.” He chuckled, running a hand through his messy hair as he shook his head and ignored the glare she sent him. “You have his name, it might not be much, but it will lead to something else...just keep looking.” He gave her another smile and then he was stepping around her and heading to the exit.
“Just – just keep looking? That’s your advice?” She shouted, but it was like her feet remained stuck in place as she watched him go.
He turned, walking backwards with a grin that resembled James far too much, and made something inside her ache. For some reason she thought this was a grin that hadn’t had too much time to make an appearance. “I don’t know what else I can tell you.” He spoke with a smaller smile as he shrugged his shoulders.
“Then why are -”
“I know what you know.” He spoke, stopping short of the door as she frowned at him. “This is your head we’re inside, everything you are seeing is because you already know it – what happened to them, what’s to come and who I am...it might not seem like all the pieces are coming together, not yet at least, but the answers are all in there, you’ve got to find them.” Hermione frowned as he smiled at her softly. “And I trust you will, whether you are the old Hermione or who you are now, you’ll figure it out.”
She wanted to believe him, to have as much faith in herself as he seemed to have in her, but it seemed like she was fighting a losing battle at this point. One she had put herself in and agree not to do anything about, even as a part of her longed to break the wall in her head despite what might happen to her.
If this was a dream then it was her own way of fighting, things slipping through the cracks and answers beginning to form, and this boy...well he must have been someone important if her brain had created him to come and see her. But then if she woke up now and everything was gone, he would be gone and perhaps she would never even see him again. It hurt to even imagine that, to imagine a world without this strange boy in.
As if he could read her thoughts, he gave her a sad smile and spoke. “This won’t be the last time you see me, maybe next time we can talk longer and maybe you’ll know more then.” She blinked away the tears in her eyes before he sighed and looked back towards the door and then back to her. “Or maybe you’ll stop trying to wake yourself up.”
Hermione frowned as his eyes looked down to her clenched hands, her own eyes following as she raised her hands and opened them, shock flooding her as she looked to see four half moon marks on her palms, angry and with the first hints of blood popping up.
She hadn’t felt it, hadn’t even been aware that she was doing it, but it seemed like some response from her real self, one that didn’t want her to see this or was worried about the repercussions this could have on her. But a few marks on her hands were a small price to pay for what she had seen and who she had met in this dream.
“I didn’t intentionally do that.” Hermione muttered as she dropped her arms back to her side and looked back to the boy as he edged one step closer to the door. “Before you go, can you at least tell me your name?”
“You already know.”
“If I knew then I wouldn’t be asking.”
“Then you need to try harder.” He spoke softly as Hermione frowned and tried, nothing but the aches of an oncoming headache and a sudden wave of fatigue. “If you have to ask then you’ll never know, if you know you need only ask.”
“I haven’t got time for riddles.” She snapped as he laughed at her, his mouth moving but no words to be heard as the world around her seemed to fog at the edges and he disappeared through the door, leaving to watch him go in what must be the most depressing version of the Great Hall she had ever seen.
Refusing to turn back around she closed her eyes and let out a deep breath.
When she opened her eyes again she was laid back in her bed, on her side and staring at the empty bed beside her own, a feeling of sadness settling over her like her duvet, though heavier.
There were the sounds of her dorm mates moving around, a snarky comment before the door was slammed shut as someone sighed and the sound of soft footsteps moved towards the bed she was staring at, Lily all dressed for the day as she organised her bag and turned around.
“Oh good you’re awake.”
…
Hermione watched from James’ bed as he paced around before it, hand on his chin and eyes narrowed. It had taken her a second to explain everything, or explain everything that hadn’t made her feel as though she might break down. He didn’t need to know that he was dead in her dream, that judging by the looks of it, it happened sooner rather than later.
He just need to know the basics. But according to him, the basics were enough to have him pacing and mumbling to himself in confusion.
“Tell me again.”
“I’ve already told you three times.” Hermione sighed out as she her head drop into her hands, rubbing the sides in order to ease the headache.
“I just don’t...it doesn’t make sense.” James spoke as she looked up between the cracks in her fingers as James shook his head and looked right at her. “I know dream rarely do, but...some guy that looks like me appearing and offering you vague clues to things, just...well it doesn’t make sense.” He muttered as he sat on his trunk, moving his neatly folded clothes out of the way.
“Think of how I feel.” Hermione bit back before sighing and moving her hands away. “Though if it does help, I think Tom Riddle is Voldemort – he said that much.” She spoke with a small smile as James frowned.
“I thought we’d already kind of guess that – not that it matters, it’s nice to know for sure.” James answered, stretching his arms above his head before he smirked cheekily. “Though the confirmation did come from some random guy your head, so whose to say for sure.”
Hermione rolled her eyes, slowly trying to go through every detail of her dream and everything she could pick out. “He didn’t feel random, he felt like someone I should know, someone important.” She whispered back as James nodded his head.
“Well considering he looked like me, I should hope so.” He chuckled but it was slightly strained as he shook his head and levelled her with a wide eyed look. “I can’t say I like the idea of some random bloke out there looking like me, I mean what if he scars the good James Potter name.” Dramatic and stupid is what her brother was.
“I doubt that’s going to happen.” Hermione snapped back, rolling her eyes. “And he wasn’t exactly like you, his eyes were a different colour, though I can’t remember what now, he was skinnier, and he had a weird scar here.” She whispered, pointing a finger to the middle of her head as James frowned at her.
“Like yours?”
“No, no…it seemed older and it looked like a lightening bolt.”
“Lightening bolt? Who the fuck is this kid?” James asked with a small laugh as he shook his head and Hermione shrugged her shoulders. That’s what she was trying to figure out, and for whatever reason she had thought James might be able to help. “Merlin, this would all be easier if I could just see inside your head.”
“Practice with Legilimency and Occlumency and I might just let you have a peek, but until then I am not letting you anywhere near my broken brain.” Hermione raised an eyebrow as she spoke and James pouted slightly. This wasn’t the first time they had had this conversation, and until he showed her he had been practising then she wasn’t letting him in.
It was too much a risk for her, and too much of a risk for him if someone could see what she knew inside his head. Him already knowing was too much.
“Fine, well until then, and with what you’ve told me I’m going to guess he either is, or related to, a Potter.” It made sense, based off looks alone, but until she had more answers then she wouldn’t know for sure.
“Except he knew the other Hermione, and with his age, then I’m guessing he could be from the future.” She whispered as James grinned.
“Could be one of our kids – I mean it seems to be a habit that Potter’s look like their dads with a few tweaks.” He frowned as he looked away and Hermione nodded her head slightly, she wasn’t saying yes or no but she had seen how the boy looked at James in her dream and it wasn’t too far out to presume that.
Before she could say anything, James had jumped off his trunk and was reaching for his bag, pulling out a piece of parchment and his quill. He knelt on the floor and rested the parchment on his trunk before he began writing as Hermione leaned over.
“What are you doing?” She asked with a sigh as he looked up at her and inclined his head to the space beside him.
With a sigh she moved to kneel beside him, looking down at the parchment and frowning. He was writing down what seemed to be the last three generations of the Potter family tree, small and not nearly as grand as the Black family.
A scoff let her mouth as she noticed her ‘fathers’ name had been changed to ‘Cuntans’, and a sad smile took it’s place as she looked at her mothers name.
“So – this is a family tree.”
“I can see that.”
“Don’t be sarcastic.” He mumbled with a frown as he pointed to their names with his quill. “Now we are the youngest on this tree, every distant cousin or relative we have is in their thirties and only just starting to have family’s...but only us...and him -” He pointed to her biological fathers name. “- are really the only ones who have the ability to have children and carry on the Potter name.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if Octans had some bastard out there, but...this kid I saw didn’t look like he had a hint of Black blood in him.” Hermione explained. No, the boy in her dream had seemed far too kind and Potter to have a connection to the Black family.
“Then he could be my kid or mum and dad can still do it, which I don’t want to think about.” James muttered though there still seemed to be a happy smile on his face, like the idea of having a child was one that made him happy. Maybe if he had seen what Hermione had, he wouldn’t feel the same but he was speaking before she could even think about bringing it up. “Mi’ – don’t stress out about it, we’ll figure it out.”
“It just seems like there is a lot to figure out, and now we have to add this boy and what he has to do with it all.” Hermione muttered, rubbing her head again and letting out a sigh. “Sometimes I think if I pushed harder then all of this would be solved in minutes.”
“It could also end badly for you.” James spoke with a frown. “So for the minute we take what we can get and cross things off when we are sure.” His concern was apparent and Hermione couldn’t blame him – if the situation was the other way around then she would be worried too and making sure he didn’t do too much.
“Fine.”
“I mean it – don’t end up hurting yourself because you have to know.” James spoke sternly, sounding almost like their mother as Hermione nodded her head and he sighed. “We’ll get answers when we get answers.”
Hermione nodded her head, a quick remark on the tip of her tongue that died down as the door to the dorm opened and Sirius entered, frowning at the pair of them as he let the door slowly shut behind him.
“Erm…what’s going on?” He asked, throwing his bag onto his messy side of the room, not seeming to care as his books clattered together and spilled out of the flap. Then his robe was being slipped off and dropped at the end of his bed, followed by his tie.
Hermione stared with wide eyes as he unbutton his top few buttons and James scoffed. “Do you mind not undressing in front of my sister?” It wasn’t the first time he had, and she really didn’t mind but James didn’t need to know that so she looked away.
Sirius laughed slightly, but he eyed Hermione warily, his hands falling to his sides as he stepped forward carefully, as though he wasn’t sure he was allowed. “I wasn’t undressing – what are you two doing?” He asked as he leaned over them and frowned. “Wow – barely any inbreeding, congratulations.” He slapped James back and gave Hermione an amused smile.
“None at all, thank you.”
“Well...I’m just going to -” Hermione gestured to the door, standing by and blushing as she realised how close Sirius was, her hands itched to reached out and pull him closer but she coughed out a stuttered breath and moved around him and towards the door.
“Actually, I was hoping we could talk soon, Kitten.” Quickly she looked over her shoulder as Sirius gulped and James looked between them both.
“Of course, whenever you are ready just come and find me.” She spoke with a soft smile before stepping out of the room and closing the door behind her, a deep breath leaving her mouth and a small smile on her face as she all but skipped back to her own dorm.
...
Sunday the 30th of January 1977
Hermione sighed as she made her way into the dormitory, ignoring the laughter from downstairs, and tiptoeing across the floor and to her trunk in order not to wake up Emmeline or Jenny.
She shouldn’t have said anything about Lily hiding a bottle of Sirius firewhisky in her trunk, not when half of their little group was tipsy and talking about how Lily should celebrate turning into an adult properly – though that was mainly a remark that strangely both Lily and Sirius seemed to agree on.
Thus the reason she was upstairs, sneaking around her own dorm, late on a Sunday night.
Kneeling before her trunk, she carefully unclasped it and stared inside. As organised as she was, her trunk was full of years worth of things, layer upon layer of books, robes, and trinkets needing to be dug through in order to find the bottle that Lily had hid in here.
Her hands moved first, gently searching around and trying to make the least noise she could, her fingers feeling for the glass and only grasping at paper. With a sigh, she pulled her hand out and stared at the neatly folded parchments, preparing to throw them on her bed only to stop as she caught sight of the names on the front.
All of them written to one person. And one person only. Harry
Who was Harry? Hermione had prided herself on knowing all her friends names, though it wasn’t a big achievement considering she had five friends and one them was her brother, and all of them were people she had spent the last six years with. Also she was pretty sure she didn’t know anyone called Harry except her grandfather Henry Potter, but she had never even met him – dead before she was born.
For a second she wondered if it was someone Lily had been speaking to, or wanting to speak to but didn’t want to have evidence in her own trunk so she had hidden them in Hermione’s, but Lily had always been someone who would ask. And Hermione knew the writing on the front, it was hers and hers alone.
Before she could question anything else, she was reaching for the first letter and opening it up, eyes taking in each word.
01/09/71
Dear Harry,
It’s weird to be back here without you and everyone else. Almost feels wrong.
Though I’d think you’d be happy to know that I was sorted into Gryffindor again, so was everyone else.
I miss you everyday, and sometimes I think it will get easier but it never seems to. I always know something is missing.
I can’t wait to see you again, even if it takes a few years, but I will see you again.
Love Hermione.
A frown marred her face as she stared at the words, trying to take them in and what they really meant.
She didn’t remember writing this, not really, just a foggy image of sitting at her desk and grabbing her quill, but not actually writing the words before her. Yet, it was her writing and her name at the bottom of the page – and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what it meant, but she had no idea who it was she was supposed to be writing to.
Throwing down the parchment she reached for another one, carefully unfolding it with a deeper frown.
07/09/1973
Dear Harry,
It’s been a long time since I wrote to you, not that you’ll ever read any of these letters and maybe it’s sad for me to pretend that you get these instead of them just sitting in the bottom of my trunk, but sometimes it just helps and makes you feel not so far away.
I count down some days for the day you’ll get here, and other days I wonder if I am going to screw everything up and end up without my best friend. I know if you were here though you would tell me to enjoy Hogwarts with the constant yearly threat, it’s what Dumbledore says too but I just feel useless.
Your mother is all but refusing to speak to me, though she did say goodnight followed by closing her curtains. We seem to be in some kind of argument, except...I don’t know how to deal with it. With Ron it was always let it blow out and eventually we would speak after some near death experience, but I never fought with Lily before and it kind of hurts more than I thought it would.
Marlene says I should let it be, that Lily will figure it out and we should give her time but I guess I am too much the Potter now because I find myself feeling rather impatient for that day. Your father seems to think it’s funny, that she seems to hate us both now, but I think he’s secretly hoping that this will make her soften towards him. He is so smitten, it’s actually quite funny.
Speaking of your father, he already has his second detention. He thought it would be funny to put dungbombs in Filchs coat, it didn’t take a genius to find out who it might be which meant all of them plus Fabian and Gideon were placed in detention. If it makes it better, they all seem fine with it and are currently planning their next attack. You would love it.
I miss you, and one day I hope I can tell you all of this, everything that happened at Hogwarts – I promise I will do everything I can to save your parents, to save my family. That while we might not be best friends, that I can at least be the best aunt for you, that despite everything I will be there.
I love you,
Hermione Potter.
The words were like both a balm to her aching heart, and a knife stabbing her in her throbbing head.
She knew the time she was writing about, had lived it, and knew the people she was referring too – but how she had called them and how she was writing was more of a clear indication of who Harry was and how he was related.
Hermione could imagine that he looked a lot like James, perhaps with lighter skin and Lily’s eyes, made a kind smile with a touch of the Potter humour in his words, he would be tall and handsome and...oh fuck.
A hiss left her mouth as she all but fell forward, curling herself into a ball as her brain was assaulted with blurry, slightly unclear images – moments of laughter, strife, and far too much sadness to be considered normal, but in each one was the boy from her dreams, growing up with more and more weight on his shoulders, yet still the same smile.
It wasn’t enough but it was almost too much, a piece of the puzzle clicking into place and a brick tumbling off of the wall in her head as no doubt the cracks began to appear. Her head felt like it was on fire and her eyes were watering but she couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.
Closing her eyes like it would help her focus on the images only she could see, her ears ringing as she let the darkness overtake her, body slumping to the floor fully as though someone had cut the strings holding her up.
...
“...shit...Hermione...come on.”
Hermione could imagine a lot of things were better than coming to your dorm and finding your best friend passed out on the floor, ears still ringing slightly and whole body feeling groggy and unfocused as she came back around to the wide panicked eyes of Lily Evans above.
The same Lily who was going to have a baby boy with her brother in the future, that alone was enough for her to let out a weak sounding chuckle as she tried to pull herself from the cold floor.
“Was ‘sup?” She asked slowly as Lily glared down at her, steadying hands on her shoulders and almost holding her to the floor.
“What’s up? Really?” Lily asked, voice low as she looked around the dorm as either Emmeline or Jenny let out a low snore. “I just found you passed out on the floor and you’re asking me what’s up – what are you doing?” Lily asked with annoyance as Hermione moved her hands away and pulled herself up on her shaky feet.
“Getting up, I need to speak to James.” Hermione spoke carefully as she tried to move towards the door but Lily caught her before she could open the door.
“No, you need to lay down or speak to Madam Pomfrey.” Lily demanded, a tight grip on Hermione’s wrist that made her frown and try to pull away with no use. “Your nose…” She muttered in concern as Hermione used the back of her sleeve to wipe the wetness there, frowning and the blood now staining the fabric.
It should have sent alarm bells ringing but Hermione could only frown. “It’s nothing, I just need to speak to James – and then I promise I will lay down.” She muttered as Lily frowned and opened her mouth, but Hermione was too quick, sneaking past her best friend and towards the stairs.
“Hermione would you just -”
The Common Room came into view as she stumbled down the last few stairs, a wave of dizziness hitting her as the group turned to look at the noise, all of their faces changing to one of concern as James stood up from the sofa and moved around rapidly to stand before her.
“Mi’...Hermione...what’s wrong?” He spoke softly, hand coming up to touch under her nose gently and frowning at the small drop on his finger. Again, she should have been concerned but she just had too much tell him before she even wondered what was happening, or why she was feeling dizzy. “Mi’…”
“I need to talk to you, in private.”
He didn’t wait before he was gripping her hand and moving her toward the stairs to the boys dormitory, everyone staring after them except Lily who jumped in front of them. “She needs to go to Madam Pomfrey.”
James’ jaw clenched and Hermione could see a part of him agreed, even as he looked to her and she shook her head. It would do no good to bring any attention to this, if it was connected to her memories, and it could only bring Dumbledore down on them and then they would have no idea what would happen.
“Evans, I appreciate the concern but she’s my sister, and I’ll decide what happens once me and her have had a little chat.” And with that he left it, dragging Hermione around the shocked redhead and towards the stairs, her feet stumbling and struggling to keep up even as she tried her best and tried to fight the dizziness.
His room was the same as always as he pushed her inside and waved his wand at the door, no doubt to keep people from listening in, and she appreciated it even as she let out a jaw cracking yawn and swayed on her feet.
“Sit down.” He demanded, pointing to his bed as she followed his orders and sat down on the comfy bed, the urge to lay down and go to sleep stronger than it had been a minute ago, but she just needed to wait a few minutes.
“What is -”
“I know who he is.”
“Who who is?” James asked with a frown before he seemed to remember something and leaned forward to whisper. “You figured out who that bloke from your dream is – how?” He asked with excitement as Hermione grinned back at him.
“I found something upstairs -” She stopped to let out a another yawn, waving it away with her hand as he frowned. “ - and it was like it all came flooding back - “ Another yawn and a brand new wave of tiredness took over and had her blinking to try and stay away. “ - he’s called Harry – and – and -”
“Hermione?” He spoke softly, reaching out to hold her shoulder as she swayed slightly. “Are you alright?” His voice was slightly mumbled, like through a wall of water, and his face was becoming a blur of tawny skin and hazel eyes.
“There’s something else – I – I...uh...I figured something else out before...before I passed out.” She tried to explain through her yawns and slurring voice. She was sure she sounded like she had drank the whole bottle upstairs by herself, but she was just tired – beyond tired and happy, and everything was mixing together in a delicious little cocktail.
Despite the blur, she could see the concern on James’ face as he reached out to steady her. “What do you mean passed out?” He asked slightly too harsh before he shook his head. “Mi’, I told you not to push yourself.” He was stern and she couldn’t help the giggle that left her mouth.
“But I did it.” She slumped back onto his pillow with another giggle as he stared down at her.
“Yes but – oh shit.” He sounded fumbled and it made her open her eyes, that she hadn’t even known she had closed, to look at him as he pressed a tissue to underneath her nose.
Her hand tried to slap his own away, but it was barely a tap and a slight groan from her end as she mumbled at him. “What you doin’?”
“Your nose is still bleeding.” His muffled voice came, and despite the knowledge somewhere in the back of her mind that she should feel worried about what was happening, she couldn’t help but feel comforted by his soft touch. The way he shifted the pillow higher and kept the tissue under her nose.
Her brother was the best and she was lucky to have him, and Harry would be lucky to have him as a father when that time came. She could almost see it now, a small chubby baby with beautiful eyes being dotted on by her mother hen of a brother – being tucked into bed and having stories read to him by a man with a soothing voice.
Both her and Harry were so lucky to have James in their lives.
“Is she ok?” Another voice joined, feminine and soft – far away, too far away for Hermione to focus on as she began to loose the fighting battle with sleep.
“She...er...she’ll be fine.” If she wasn’t so tired then she would have pushed herself up and told her brother to either lie better or trust that she was fine, and that she had just pushed herself a little too hard. And like any normal person who did too much, her body just needed to rest and take a moment to not have to worry about it’s problems.
The two continued talking, muffled even further and lullying Hermione into a blissful sleep, where dreams were nothing but colourful images and beautiful laughter – a nice break from the usual.