AN: in what world would anyone give up a job in paris for ross geller

In her five days at Hogwarts, Hermione had so far only spent two in her Ravenclaw bed, sleeping.

This night wasn't very different. She wasn't in her bed. She really shouldn't have, but she did take some pride in knowing that her talent of escaping the Hogwarts caretaker hadn't subsided, even in this time era.

Only idiots use the Great Hall's huge oak doors to get out onto the grounds, so they take one of the schools smaller, easier to open exits and find themselves out on the sloping lawn, the stars high in the sky and the air surprisingly warm. They haven't spoken since they left the common room, for fear of being overheard by Filch or Mrs Norris, but once they're outside Hermione musters up enough courage to break the silence.

''I thought Ravenclaws were supposed to be the perfect students.''

''We are perfect students,'' Nelly insisted, offering Hermione a sly grin, turning slightly to look up at the looming castle behind them.

Li shuffled on her feet. ''Well… either that, or we're the worst. There's nothing in-between.''

''Still hate rules though,'' Nelly chuckled. In her opinion, rules always get in the way of creation and letting things flow; meaningless lists of directions prevent and keep people from accomplishing their goals. Or in this case, skipping curfew.

It was odd, Hermione decided, how the rules she had valued so highly ever since she was 11 always seemed to slip out of her grasp. She was always pulled into things. Since she's arrived at Hogwarts she had so far broken at least three of them – two of her three nights spent out of bed.

This was one of those nights, and for once, Hermione was happy with the company. At least she wasn't alone.

"They really need to invest in some better security," Milo laughed, her short fingers pulling Hermione along. Just like the improvised sneak-out had stunned Hermione, the fact that the prefect was the most eager about the whole thing surprised her the most. ''Then again, no one, well, except Flitch, is complaining.''

''Guys, wait up!''

Hermione turns around to see Li squeeze through the tight gap between two rocks. Li was the shortest of them all; which did cause some difficulty for her to keep up to the quick pacing Milo was pulling – Li's legs not long enough to keep up the pace with the rest of them. Once she made it up to the rest of them, a hand grasped onto Nelly's for balance. Nelly quickly yanked away.

"No way. I will not give you a piggyback like last time. 'S not my fault you're short."

Li chose to ignore Nelly's comment, turning to Milo instead. ''I can't believe we're doing this again, brings back memories, doesn't it?'' she says with a toothy smile, looking like it was burst into giggles any second from excitement. ''I mean yes, there are a few minor modifications, of course, but it will have to work. And this time Rose won't mess up the charms, right Rose?''

The girl nodded. "Yeah, Dex and I have been practicing."

They still hadn't told Hermione what charms they were talking about, or what the exact plans for what was happening yet. There had been whispering, scheming and planning – and now a backpack packed with god knows what swung over Nelly's shoulder as they swagger down the hill of the glowing castle.

And so, Milo, Nelly, Li, Rose and Hermione ventured out into the night.

Every Ravenclaw except for Nelly who was busy carrying the backpack and a big cardboard box to her chest were walking with tight grips on their wands and once Milo told them to they all whispered a soft Lumos to avoid tripping over uneven ground, slippery moss and veiny roots. They move quickly though, because they're still out in the open view of the castle's many windows, and getting caught is most definitely not on their to do list tonight.

Hermione had her theories of what was going on. She could've easily reached out for any of their thoughts, but she didn't. Legilimency didn't come as easily as occlumency. But she didn't feel threatened in any way, so she let the night play out, her heartbeats steady; still calm, stubbornly beating. Of course she knew which direction they were heading - she just hoped they would make a stop before they would reach the Forbidden Forest, because even though Hermione had met a handful of beasts in her life, the dark depth of the trees would never be welcoming to her.

''Did you remember to bring the book, Milo?''

Hermione wasn't sure who asked the question, still familiar with the girls voices just yet.

''Of course I did.''

''You sure? Because you forgot to-''

''It was one time!'' Milo defended, shadows cast over her thick eyebrows pulling together. ''Besides, didn't we check the bag two, no, three times before leaving the common room?'' Hermione smiled. They had. Four times. They hadn't been very keen on having to go back inside once leaving, afraid the bronze eagle would give them one of the paradox riddles just to mess with them.

Within minutes they're standing by the lakes edge, the water lapping gently at the shore and lights from the castle glancing off the dark surface. It looks a bit more inviting during the day.

''Hermione Granger!''

Hermione turns away from the water, back to the four Ravenclaws who now stood on a straight line-up with their hands on their backs, eyes wide with excitement.

"Y-y-yes?"

''You're here to embark on the joy of joining the family of Rowena Ravenclaw. We, your fellow, trusty, noble roommates, are here to guide you through the initiation,'' Li speaks in a clear and loud voice, almost too big for such a tiny person like her.

''Every step of the way, grasshopper'' Nelly adds quickly.

Clapping her hands, Li raise one perfectly shaped eyebrow. Somewhere in-between a Chateau Petrus 1945, getting blue dust and glitter pressed onto her cheeks, repeating oaths and mottos under the soft piano tunes of Éric Alfred Satie (to this day, she still couldn't figure out how they had managed to play his music out of thin air that night), Hermione finds herself in the middle of a translation of late Latin poetry and discussing Greek gods. By the end of it all – Hermione had soared through the sky like an eagle before diving straight into the ink black lake, only to resurface her clothes and hair black like raven.

On their way back, Hermione feels like the excitement of a child. While she skips up the steps and the steep hill like nothing could bring her down, the rest of the Ravenclaw's sink down behind her.

"Please, Nelly?"

"I already told you, no!"

"Peh-phlease?" Li wheezed out.

Nelly shook her head. ''No it's weird and I'm tired.''

''Maybe its less weird because I'm calling it out.''

Nelly chuckled, waves of brown hair falling over his eyes. It was distracting. ''Doesn't make it less weird.''

Hermione don't know how Li did it, but somehow Nelly ended up caving (like she apparently usually did under the short girl's stubborn words) and carried her and the heavy backpack all the way back.

Once they reach the castle again, they manage to wake up at least seven different paintings on their way up to the Ravenclaw Tower. The memory is vague and Hermione is pretty sure she could still hear the piano playing Ragtime-parade in the background, the notes bobbing up and down on the register, but somewhere in the blurry corridor, Hermione remembers a old lady calling out league of whippersnappers as they sneak past, no level of stealth what so ever.

The Bloody Baroon gave them a cold look as he hovered past them, but he didn't say anything.

It's something of a mystery how she manages to drop into sleep so quickly after the day she's had.

Hermione doesn't remember reaching her bed – she doesn't remember the four-poster bed or the blue drapes closing around her. The only thing she remembers is Remus Lupin helping her solve a riddle, a short goodbye and then the moment he's gone she's thrown into someone else's arms.

It's nothing like what she's used to. She's used to simple dreams. She's trained and used with diaphanous things, delicate flashes of colour and sound, forming images that disintegrate as soon as tries to make sense of them, flickering around a black mist that advances steadily, shot through with the finest threads of crimson lightning.

Tonight was different. A big ocean with dark water was closing in over her head, heavy and cold. It swirls up around her ankles, twining around hips, over her shoulders until it releases an eerie cackle in her ear.

She's right back at the start again.

The darkness fades; the fear abates and the ground reforms.

With sleep comes nightmares, but this night they're not as bad, and the next morning when the girls scavenged over the big breakfast, Hermione felt part of something. And when Li had to run off to her Transfiguration class she didn't just ask Nelly to save a seat for her at lunch, but Hermione as well. While Nelly blushed, it made Hermione smile. Once they got to Potions class with the Slytherin's, she was actually feeling ready. Belonging if not. Like she was just like the rest of them. And even though few things could stop her cheery mood from cooling, surely sharing a classroom with the Slytherin's helped. Milo and Nelly quickly partnered up, but much to her relief the third roommate had promised to work with her the first lesson. However while Hermione opted for a table in front of the class, Rose shook her head furiously before setting their things down in the middle of the classroom.

"Could we uh… sit closer to the back? Please?"

"Okay…"

"I'm sorry I'm usually not like this, it's just… pretty sure that table is jinxed," Rose went on to explain, which made Hermione frown. The table she was about to pick had always belonged to Seamus and Dean – at least those years when the two boys had taken the class. "Milo said the same thing actually. She said she felt the auras don't work well together."

Everyone in the room quieted down the moment Slughorn entered, a smile pulling on his already old and wrinkly face. He wished them a good morning, going on to tell them how he'd made the most astounding discovery while brewing his last set of Alihotsy Draught.

"It had curious effects that one," he nodded. "I sent a letter to my alumni who works abroad – he knows everything there is to know about manufactured deliriums. More on that later, it's time for us to start working on the third stage of our Armadillo Bile Mixture!"

Hermione had never personally got to brewing it herself, but she'd been close to Fred and George, helping them with the 31 ounces of Armotentia needed for it's ingredients. To this day, the potion still smelled the same to her. It was comforting. She fell into an autopilot as she chopped up the bat wings together with the Aconite. She might not have brewed it herself before, but she'd read about it and how the most vital detail in brewing the potion was to make sure the lid were kept closed at all times, considering the cauldron more than happily wanted to spit out the teal liquid boiling inside.

Up in front of Rose and Hermione's table were Owen Mulciber and Severus Snape working wordlessly, hands moving all over the mapped out set of phials and brass scales and books and various ingredients. Two nights ago he'd promised her that he'd make an enemy of hers, and now it was like it had never happened. She was surprised how no one out of the Slytherin student, Mulciber especially, made an effort to meet her eyes once entering the classroom.

That didn't mean she stopped watching them though.

Much to her frustration, they were perfect. Nearly everything went according to the books, flawless procedure and execution of everything from stirring to chopping and adding ingredients. The only time they nearly messed up was when Severus almost made contact with the teal potion, hissing as he distanced himself. He, just like Hermione, knew that any contact with the potion would wash every nerve of the affected tissue away. The skin would go black dead. Not even unicorn hair could treat the wound.

Slughorn only took time to look up from his desk once during the whole class, and although Hermione shouldn't be surprised with his bad teaching, what angered her even more was how the students around her were utilizing it. She saw more than two students, both Slytherin and Ravenclaw, fill personal phials with the supply of Amortentia, sneaking them into their robes before continuing to work.

As for the duo of perfectionists working in front of her at the head of the classroom, Mulciber and Snape didn't as much as glance towards the love potion.

Then it changed.

Working partnered up with the Half-Blood Prince and future Potion Master did have it's perks, one of them being that their potion had reached it's final stage minutes before everyone else's – which left Owen Mulciber plenty of time to walk around and taunt the others in his house.

"You're working awfully slow today, Wilkes," the Slytherin commented as he got to Alistair Wilkes and Philip Avery's cauldron. "I thought working with Avery would help you catch up to the expectations of this class."

Hermione tuned out every other little sound in the classroom – fire cracking, incarnations and steaming and boiling and sizzling. She didn't hear everything in Alistair Wilkes answer to Mulciber, but she heard him excuse himself, blaming the homework Professor McGonagall had given them to the same day to be distracting enough to slow him down with the potion.

As far as she could tell, Alistair Wilkes didn't have very to get distracted by in that head of his – but it didn't seem like he had to. He was tall and broad – muscles pulling through his robe as he stretched over the table for his potions book. Suppose he was the heavy lifter of the group she'd encountered only nights before, rather than the brains.

"What does it smell to you?" Rose asked next to Hermione, tearing away her concentration from the Slytherins. "I'm only asking because… I uh… I can't smell anything," the Ravenclaw went on. "And it's always nice to hear about… uh.. what it smells like, I mean. Nelly can smell bacon and bonfires but I'm pretty sure she's raised by vegetarians, and Milo says she can smell aluminium and ash, though I can't say I've ever come across that before."

"I can smell freshly mown grass and new parchment and toothpaste and rain."

Rose smiles, muttering out how nice it all seemed, but quieted down after that, either too busy blushing or too busy counting the number of counter clockwise stirs she'd waved over their cauldron. Hermione must've missed a lot of the Slytherin's chat, because it looked like Mulciber was starting to back off again. Hermione almost didn't catch it, but she was quick enough to tune out enough of all the noise in the room again to hear Mulciber's low tone. "…and put the Amortentia back. Slughorn won't approve of it."

Philip Avery, who'd been working quietly next to Wilkes and Mulciber's small chat in silence, decided to break in. "Actually, I'm doubtful think the professor will notice at all."

"He will notice when I tip him off that everyone has been stealing," Mulciber disputed.

Avery nodded; regret filling his eyes as he occupied himself with the potion again. "Of course."

Crossing his arms over his chest, the leading Slytherin leaned closer to Wilkes in interest. "What were you going to do with it anyway?" he asked, suddenly not so concerned with keeping a low tone anymore. "Don't see why you would be interested in a love potion is all."

This time it was Wilkes turn to quiet down. "It's for that damn Beater girl in the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Been pining for her ever since I caught her after practice but she won't let me touch her so I figured this would..." Wilkes faltered slightly, gulping as he remembered something. "I want her to come begging."

And while both Mulciber and Avery laughed at the confession, Hermione felt something move up her throat. Somewhere in-between dropping the ingredients she'd been working with and rising from her chair she'd clenched her fists and prepared the words to yell. She felt like she was about to combust because everything she had just heard was sickening and she wanted it to stop and she would stop it personally. She would end-

Next to her, Rose sighed. "I think our potion is done. Finally."

Hermione didn't care about the bloody potion. All she cared about was getting that damn phial away from Wilkes pocket. Eyes searched frantically for anyone else in the room who might've heard the same thing she had, but she was left alone. Which was fine. She could take care of it all by herself, even if that would probably result in getting expelled.

"Hermione?"

She didn't turn around to when Rose said her name, instead taking a steady step forward in Wilkes direction. Another. Then another. Then… then a hand grabbed onto the back of her robe. And as Hermione spun around, Rose's big eyes grew even bigger.

"Are you okay?"

People around the classroom started looking up from their tables, curious eyes staring at the two Ravenclaws who'd now grown stiff and still like statues. Hermione wasn't used to an audience, but she was sure it wouldn't distract her enough from the task. Task being to break every bone in Wilkes body for even speaking about a girl in that way. Abusing a potion for the illusion of power – to make someone obsessed with him just to treat his wounded pride. Sickening.

"No! He… Wil-Wi… he's… the… I am not okay. He's planning to use… he's going to…"

Hermione could see how Milo and Nelly slowly got up from their table, walking towards her with slow and careful steps, as if scared to frighten her. Then, looking over at Rose for any explanation, they sidestepped.

"What is going on? Did she breathe in the fumes or something?" Milo asked.

Rose shook her head. "I don't know she just shot up and got like this…"

It was at this point that Hermione saw her defeat. The way both Milo and Nelly was blocking her clear path to Wilkes would slow her down, if not all together stop her from reaching the twisted Slytherin, if not that surely someone else in the audience would interfere. Her opportunity was gone and it bit down hard around her throat. It made her gasp.

"I'm sorry, but I think I need some air," she rasped out.

"I'll come with you," Rose insisted.

"No that's fine."

"I'm coming with you."

Hermione gritted her teeth. "I'm sorry but I really… I just need to be alone for a second, I promise it's fine."

She rushed out before Rose could stop her.

Once she made it outside of the acidic class room, she ran up two sets of stairs before leaning against the cold stone wall, falling back against it until she was down on the ground, heaving for air as she crunched up into a small ball. And as she collected her thoughts, two things settled in her head. One was the clear picture of her methods of ruining Wilkes every waking moment in this school. She would sabotage him in the cruellest ways, ways she'd promised herself to never use, like the untraceable spells that would snap Wilkes canvas in the middle of a lecture and set fire to parchment and vanish ink. She would stop his bloody knuckles from getting healed, they would never seal and be hidden again.

Though even clearer than that was how this couldn't go on. How this – no matter how much she would try to comply with it – couldn't be avoided. Hogwarts was the problem. She being at Hogwarts, around these monstrous people, was problematic. No, she couldn't stay at Hogwarts if it meant dealing with these Slytherins every day. She knew what they were capable of, she knew what pain they would cause, and before she could do the same to them – she would have to leave. This school and it's students triggered too much and she couldn't pretend like nothing. She wasn't as good an actor as Ron or Ginny. She couldn't stay around these people knowing the things she did.

She couldn't go through with it all over again. She'd already lived with it for months after the wars end. She had already grieved (although that never truly stopped) but she had grown strong and being here, around these Death Eaters, it took all of it away because she would have to see it all over again.

No, she had to leave Hogwarts, or she would lose herself in the hate all over again and this time Harry and Ron wouldn't be there to bring her back. She had to leave and solve this in some other way – just not here, around these people, this close to the battle… She thougth she could be strong enough but this lesson, hearing Wilkes and Mulciber brought it all back again and it was enough.

Hermione tried to use the little control she had left to close her fists, and felt her soul guttering like a candle.

Wilkes tore up old memories of the battle.

Memories so clear and real she found herself reliving them. It became a cacophony of noises, of blasts getting fired – feeble spells and dark curses - of voices, until it was piercing, until even she wanted to cover her ears. It took a while for Hermione to realize that she was sobbing; somewhere in a shadow memory Colin was calling out her name over and over again. She recognized gales desperate cries, like the ones had uttered in the Burrow kitchen after the first attack, then Molly Weasley's soft whimpers for her children. Hermione shouldn't have been surprised when her own voice joined in; after all, she was in pain. But she was surprised, because she wasn't calling for help.

She was calling for Remus.

The moment she realized what she was doing, teeth bit down her clenched fist, stopping the name from slipping out again. She wanted to be hard, to be strong. But she couldn't be that. Not in here, in this castle, in this school or around these people. She had to leave.

First instinct was to just run. Take her stuff, sneak through a secret passage and leave for good. Go straight to Jiggers and explain. Second thought was of Hagrid, but that one was shut down as well. Because although she'd easily befriended Hagrid during her short visits to his cottage, it was hard to stay around him for too long. Sooner or later the half-giant always went on how much he owed Dumbeldore. The loyalty too strong to break.

When she gets back to the Ravenclaw Common Room, the whole group is waiting for her, Rose and Milo rushing up to her the moment she walks in. Hands shoot out to squeeze her shoulders, worried eyes searching over her to check if she was alright. Peaking out from behind them, Nelly and Li watched with wide eyes.

"We tried to find you after Potions – what's wrong?" Rose urged in an upset frequency. "We're worried sick about you. Everything was going so well. I mean we're so happy to have you in Ravenclaw, in our dorm especially. You're one of us and we stick together so you have to tell us what's wrong."

"Or maybe you don't," Milo quickly filled in. "But we're here for you either way."

"And we were kinda hoping you would let us..." Nelly mumbled from behind her hand where she was biting her nails down anxiously. Next to her, LI was staring down at the sea blue carpet, biting her lip as her nose scrunched up.

"I can't stay."

"What?"

"I shouldn't have come here in the first place. It was a stupid, insane idea to think.. to think that it would work… that everything would be alright... Because it isn't. Nothing is okay," Hermione's hand shot out to exaggerate, making Milo's hand fall loose in the air.

"I've never heard of someone changing their household, but if this is about Ravenclaw I'm sure Flitwick…" the prefect carefully tried to chose her words, but from Hermione's pained huff she was cut short.

"You don't understand, this isn't about Ravenclaw! I can't stay here. At Hogwarts. In this castle. I have to leave."

All four girls released the tension in their shoulders almost immediately once Hermione said that this wasn't about Ravenclaw. In other words, how this wasn't about them. They'd worried maybe that this was something that they'd done or triggered, but if it was the school… that could only mean worse things, right? Rose turned to Miio, then to Nelly who was busy staring down at Li, who was focused on Milo… all of them were turning to look at each other for answers, but all of them looked just as lost as Hermione. When no one found anything to say, Milo eventually turned back to Hermione.

"If this isn't something we've done… maybe we can help."

"We'll help," Li nodded. "What happened during Potions?"

Hermione sniffed. "I wish it was about the curriculum, but it's not. It's the school itself." The people roaming the halls who would grow up to become death machines. Cold-hearted killers. Blood lusted psychopaths stripped from all compassion and humanity. Hermione couldn't stand it.

"Hogwarts is safe, you know. I mean, Dumbledore set the wards himself."

"No, this is about me. It's me."

"Explain," Li urged her. "Has something happened to you?"

"Yes. No. Yes, but nothing at the school. It's me, I can't stay because of me," Hermione fumbled. "I can't… it's a bad idea. I have a thousand of reasons why I shouldn't be here."

Rose felt heartbroken watching the newest Ravenclaw stutter out the words. She thought back at the first night they first got their new roommate. Milo had warned them that they should've gone easy on her, reminding them that transferring to a new school would be difficult and that they would have to help the girl to feel at home. And they'd really worked hard. And for a while, it seemed like it was all good. Hermione had been smiling most of the time and last night during the Ravenclaw inauguration she'd fitted right in. And now she was telling them how she wanted to leave.

They wanted Hermione to stay.

Ever since fifth year, the Ravenclaw girls had been noticing how the younger classes had grown smaller and smaller. More and more people dropping out to stay at home with their family- There was always people leaving. People falling under the cape of fear that was slowly growing bigger and bigger.

No, Hermione couldn't leave. They wanted her to stay. They wanted her to stay because they all knew for sure this was a safe place to be in dark times like these. The safest. Hogwarts was protected. Nothing would hurt inside the walls of the castle. Never at Hogwarts. Not here where it was safe.

All of the Ravenclaw girls stayed quiet, eyes carefully watching as they let the confusing girl calm her breath. The silence was long and stretched thin. Then the shortest of them smiled shyly, pushing her black bangs away from her forehead. "We'd miss you, you know."

"A lot," Nelly added.

"We're here for you," Rose repeated, letting her hand slide down Hermione's forearm to grasp around her slightly trembling fingers. "Maybe you could talk to the Dumbledore. He'll know what to do. He knows everything."

Milo shook her head. "He can't know everything," she muttered, looking very grumpy as she stared up into the ceiling for lack of a better target. Still, Hermione found the Ravenclaw prefect utterly amazing in that giving moment – she couldn't help but smile. She liked these people, and while she found that sensation of friendship strange considering she'd only known them for a few days, it was extremely comforting. Could that be enough to make her stay? Sadly, probably not.

"Black, Lupin, Potter, Pettigrew…" the Headmaster spoke slowly as they stood in shame before him. They'd been racing Peeves all over the second floor and while it'd been a fair race, a poor second year hufflepuff had gotten in the crossfire and reported them. "Gentlemen. Although I'm happy to see your excitement for our school spirit hasn't succumbed after seven years at this school, it does reach a limit. How about we take this conversation at my office?"

Sirius and Peter deflated, shoulders heavy in utterly defeat because they knew where this was going. From the looks of panic and despair played by both the Prefect and the Head Boy's, Remus and James weren't very far behind.

"Sir," James' voice hitched. "We really wasn't… uh.."

"You can't give us detention from curiosity, sir," Remus filled in. "We were simply broadening our skill in communicating and dealing with poltergeists and figured this was a perfect opportunity to… to uh.. fuck."

Eyes travelled from each marauder to the next, and a soft expression played on the Headmaster's features as he finally said, "We have a lot to talk about, I think."

Ending up at the Headmasters office wasn't something entirely new to the four boys – it'd sprung up as a tradition ever since their first year together, but this time it felt really humiliating. First off because half of the group was supposed to act as exceptional students – students to learn and take guidance from, not learn tricks and mistakes from. Not that Dumbledore ever gave out detentions personally – he seemed too soft for that – but he had given them weird goals and assignments whenever they came this far.

As the Headmaster excused himself for a second, the Marauders felt brave enough to talk.

All four were lined up right in front of the old man's front desk, which was surprisingly clean and free from documents and books for some unapparent reason. All four had their hands clasped behind their backs, feet aligned with their shoulders, chin almost pressed to their chest as their heads hung low.

"Fucking hell, I really don't want this," James muttered under his breath. "You guys smelt horrendous for days after that detention in the dungeons."

"You rather stink for a few days than get your badge stripped," Sirius muttered back.

Peter, who was by now not to say comfortable, but confident in taking the hit of a detention was the only one who managed to lift his head and look around the office. "This is ridiculous," he shook his head. "I mean, we hadn't even gotten started yet. That Hufflepuff was exaggerating. It's not fair, that's all."

Hearing how Dumbledore's footsteps were closing in on coming back to the main part of the office, Peter was quick to hang his head again – but only after giving his friends a glance. Although he lowered his voice significantly, the most discreet of whispers, his arm shot out to give Remus a light slap to his arm in hopes of waking him up from whatever paralyzed shock he'd fallen into.

"Chill out, you're making me nervous," Peter whispered, feeling how his heart was starting to mirror the same shock-waves of vibrating nerves that Remus' hands were stuck in.

"I'm trying," Remus bit back, grateful he couldn't look Peter in the eye while saying this because he would most likely scare the shit out of his friend with the glowering scowl he was sporting at the moment.

No one got to answer, the room falling dead silent the final seconds before the Headmaster ultimately returned. With him he had a minimum sized wooden box made out of a reddish type of wood, and before anyone got to ask, he opened it.

"Ah, here we go," Dumbledore smiled, carefully lifting the small packages of lemon mints from the box. "I've heard about a shop in Copenhagen that makes the most brilliant sweets, but I much rather stay with Honeydukes. They've grown to be very loyal to any sweet tooth passing by, don't you agree?"

"Was… was that a rhetorical question?" Remus asked.

"Not at all, Mr Lupin. Go ahead and take whatever you like."

Hesitantly, one marauder after the next swooped in to take a mint. Not that they were the favourite – but if felt rude not to take one when offered. Soon enough, all four boys were making sour faces at the Headmaster, all of them secretly wondering what the hell the point of all of this was.

"The point is," Dumbledore started, "as you may or may not be aware… darker times are brewing."

Remus almost choked on his lemon lozenge. Never during his seven years at Hogwarts had his Headmaster just hinted – now basically admitted – to being a legimens. Sure, there had always been rumours about the most powerful wizard in the country and what he could and couldn't do, but he'd never actually seen it, or heard it happen. Most of the time, no matter how frustrating it was, Albus Dumbledore chose to speak in riddles around Remus. Whenever asked about something, it always came back in a much more poetic or philosophical form than necessary.

"Thank you, Mr Lupin. I get most of it from Wilde and Frost."

"I uh… that's..." Remus struggled as all of his friends turned in confusion.

Remus was feeling seen – under a microscope or a magnifying glass – and not in a good way. Because mind and body had always been a enigma for him, because neither mind nor body had ever truly been his. To share it with a wolf, a beast, a monster, was one thing. But to realize that there was a third party to this dark matter of pain and cruelty and raw wilderness inside of him made him feel awfully sick.

Could Dumbledore read his murderous thoughts when he'd transformed?

"No, it's almost impossible to reach inside an animals mind," Dumbledore explained, not waiting for Remus to form his thoughts and questions into actual spoken words. The impatience and intimate infiltration was making him go dizzy, but even if Dumbledore clearly knew (heard?) this, he kept going. "And while your case is different, just like it's different to reach out for a transformed animagi, your mind is more difficult to handle."

It was a lot to take in all at once. Dumledore had pretty much just acknowledged the storm that was twisting inside Remus head, and he was acting as if it was the most normal thing in the world. It made Remus wonder how long he'd been doing it. Was he a natural legimens, or did he just throw the spell wordlessly?

It was questions like these that Dumbledore chose to ignore.

The Headmaster watched with interest as the young werewolf's hands kept shaking, even after he'd offered the four boys a calming atmosphere. And then he connected the pieces. He opted for the source of the shaking. Once again did Hermione Granger impress Dumbledore in ways he hadn't imagined.

From what he could tell, she'd try to erase herself from Remus Lupin's mind – only it had been unsuccessful. It had worked well enough for him to forget, but at the end of the day, the memories still lived inside him. And the wolf was tearing up all levels she'd buried the memories under, layer by layer. The hands were just another sign of this. How there was a fight within.

And all the while, Remus Lupin was completely unaware of what was going on.

It really was a work of a brilliant witch, even if this might not had been what she had intended for the werewolf.

"Dangerous people are gathering numbers," Dumbledore spoke.

Two hands flew up as if to stop a fast moving object, like a police officer handling traffic at a busy intersection. "Okay, hold on just a second!" Sirius exclaimed. "What are we bloody talking about right now?"

"Might need an aluminium hat for this, Pete," James snickered.

"You may or may not be aware of the many ideas filling the classrooms in this castle," Dumbeldore spoke. "Ideas about right and wrong. Now, considering I trust you four to see the clear difference between what's good and bad, I figured I could turn to you about finding… doubts."

The first one to speak up after a very long silence was the Head Boy, who had by now gathered enough of the raw material to form a theory of his own. "What are you insinuating?" he asked, arms crossed as he glanced from his friend to the headmaster, then back again.

"Nothing, I'm afraid… I can't know anything for sure," Dumbledore answered honestly. "Although I know every single soul passing through our gates to this school, I can't possibly know them. Of course, it's even more difficult to see where someone's loyalty lies when they're a complete stranger."

James adjusted his glasses. "Are you talking about the new Ravenclaw? Because honestly, I think your focus group should be Slughorn's snakes. But that's just my opinion."

"All I ask is that you keep an eye out."

All marauders except one nodded their heads. There was no hesitation, except with one. Sirius didn't know what to think. He was already keeping an eye on Granger, but somehow this seemed worse. The fact that the Headmaster wanted them to spy on the girl made it feel wrong, unlike what it did now; which was mostly just annoying. Nevertheless, he eventually let his head fall down in a nod.

"We will, sir."

While Remus and Peter were excused to leave the office, Dumbledore asked Sirius and James to stay behind. "You won't miss lunch, I promise," the old man smiled over his desk, like he hadn't just minutes ago told them about his fear of evil spreading around Hogwarts' students. "I just wanted to inform you that I received a letter from your parents."

Sirius was about to make a joke, but something in Dumbledore's eyes stopped him.

"There is nothing to worry about, but they informed me that they won't be able to send or receive any owls the upcoming two weeks."

"Why?"

"They'll be travelling of sorts. But they'll be safe. All I was told was that if anything should trouble you or if you're in their need, Mr and Mrs Pettigrew will be there for both of you."

An uneasy feeling filled both boys stomaches, because even though the Pettigrews adored any friends of Pete, they didn't like the idea of their parents leaving. Whatever it was that made the Potters leave, it had to be important. So they didn't question it. Both boys just nodded, and they were soon sent out as well, but only after getting the reminder repeated again. Don't worry.

Once they stepped out from behind the large Gargoyle guarding the oval office they almost fell down to the ground. Not because of shock, but due to the fact that they almost ran straight into the student waiting outside. James didn't get the chance to offer a greeting before Sirius beat him to it with an irritated groan.

"Granger Danger, surprised to see you here." Sirius was glaring at Hermione, like he usually did. "I thought you Ravenclaws had Herbology with Pomfrey this hour."

She shrugged her shoulders. "I was on my way to see Dumbledore, but…"

"Are you in trouble?" the marauder next to Sirius asked.

No amount of story telling on the old Marauders' behalf could've prepared Hermione for real-life James Potter. It was like meeting a fictions character. And that character turns out to be unfathomably similar to his son. He had awkward legs, a long torso and a curly mop of hair. The robes and white shirt matted of colour, but were pressed and well fitted nevertheless. Then there was the hazel eyes… Not green like Harry's.

Hermione cut herself off once she remembered Harry. She told herself to cut it out. James was not Harry, no matter how much alike they looked. No matter how similar their voices were. Focus on the differences.

Pulling for air, she narrowed her eyes at the Head Boy.

James was more solidly built than Harry, and cleaner cut, too. He'd styled his floppy hair down since she'd last seen him, and it looed at least two shades darker than the curls Hermione was used to. The Harry she'd grown up with was scruffy around the edges and warm in every way imaginable. The Harry she'd fought the war with was stiff from bruises and beaten within an inch of his life. Sometimes Harry would look like he was carved from ice. Not looking all that different from the state she'd left him in. And it was so awful, so horrible how quickly her mind swapped in one Potter for the other. How much it lifted her spirit and eased the tightness in her chest to imagine Harry was here next to her again.

No. Stop it.

This was why she had to leave. She couldn't handle being around ghosts.

She held on to those hazel eyes, one of the few differences shining through everything else.

"I'm not in trouble."

"If this is about… uh… that night with the Slytherin's… are you planning to mention us in the equation?"

"It's not about that. I wasn't going to tell him about anyone breaking curfew, considering I'm did the same thing. I was going had to ask him about the castle, but… I figured it out on the way here so I'm not going in," Hermione made up her answer before meeting Sirius glare again. "If you call me Granger Danger again you'll be the one in trouble, Black."

Sirius's glare turned into a wicked grin. "Name only proves a point, especially with your tendency to go around punching students and threatening innocent bystanders."

"I'm being-" serious, Hermione wanted to say, but she stopped herself, mentally kicking herself when she saw how the marauders grin only grew bigger, pulling on his dimples. She'd never taken note of his dimples before. Not in her time at least. "Nevermind…"

James, who looked just about as amused as Sirius, adjusted his Head Boy pin as he spoke. "It's almost time for lunch."

"No, I have to get back to Herbology with Professor Sprout."

With a quick glance down at his wristwatch, Sirius sighed. "You won't make it in time, it takes at least nine minutes walking there, and it ends in ten. You might as well go to lunch."

Gulping, Hermione did everything in her power not to mention the secret passage Harry had shown her thanks to the map that would take here there in only three, but she wasn't supposed to know that, so she kept quiet.

"Let us walk you?" James smiled, genuinely offering her help through the web of corridors. Sirius didn't look too happy about it, but James ignored his exhausted sigh. "If we're quick we'll probably get our hands on some pudding before it runs out."

"I don't think Granger deserves any pudding," Sirius grumbled, to which both James and Hermione poked him, both maybe a little bit too hard to be playful.

"Our mate Pete accidentally spent his Potions project on that particular staircase," James pointed at one of the levitating staircases once the three of them made it to the tall room. "So I would try to avoid using that one. Unless you want to get stranded in the middle of the pass and get late to class."

''I already got a tour of the castle from Milo, she already warned me,'' Hermione spoke. "She didn't mention that it was Peter's fault though."

"He didn't do it on purpose, Granger," Sirius muttered. "He got distracted. But messing things up is usually his forte."

They had no idea.

''Milo Tarlton?'' James asked, eyes shining in recognition, bumping shoulders with Sirius. ''Remember how she swapped patrol partners with me so that I could walk with Evans in fifth year? I never properly thanked her."

"You should definitely invite her to the wedding then," Sirius nodded.

Hermione think she saw a blush starting to grow on James' cheekbones.

"Her brother Duncan was the wizard who invented that wig that stayed on forever, right?" James tried to deflect the subject. Hermione happily helped out, nodding encouragingly. She remembered Milo talking about her brother during their first day together. Milo hadn't exactly been bragging about her brothers invention, but she was proud. "I read those wigs won't come off, even in water. Didn't they test the wigs for hurricane-winds?''

"I think so, yeah. Maybe we should get one of them wigs for dad this Christmas," Sirius thought out load.

"He will not like that. He'll probably stick that wig on you yourself if you're not careful."

"I'm not the one who's thinning out and going bald!" Sirius exclaimed.

"Oh shove it," James chuckled, removing his glasses before polishing them on his robe. Most of his life he'd used a simple charm, but ever since Lily had done it the muggle way, he'd somehow felt how this was better. It helps him gather his thoughts, and after some internal debate whether or not it was a good idea to bring it up, he does. "Has the Slytherins done anything lately?"

Hermione loses some speed in their fast pace, making the trio slow down slightly.

"No, it's fine."

Sirius scrunched his nose. "Listen to me, Granger Danger…"

"Don't call me that."

"Sorry, not sorry," he shrugged. "I'm not trying to scare you or anything, but in case they haven't done anything yet, they're probably planning something. They usually don't take punches that well, you know."

"I can take care of myself."

"No doubt."

And so finally they make it to the feast. Hermione practically runs off to the Ravenclaw table and as the two marauders watch her run, they hear how several Ravenclaws call out her name. They didn't get a similar reaction unfortunately. Once they slammed down next to Lily and Marlene they were pretty much shoved away.

"What's wrong?" Sirius asks. He's asked that question a lot recently.

Marlene didn't look up from her quill. "Nothing, we're just have to finish this essay before next class."

"Why didn't you guys do it last night?" James asked, reaching for some salad across the table.

"We couldn't because someone," Lily gave him a pointed look, "insisted that all Gryffindors should spend the night playing games. And that someone also begged me on his hands and knees that I should team up with him because the world would crash and burn if I didn't." Although she was clearly irritated with him, James couldn't help but to smile at her. She was so perfect.

The Head Girl brushes some hair away form her face, a loose strand that had somehow gotten pulled out and twirled while sitting down next to James.

"But we won the whole tournament, didn't we?"

Only now realizing that Peter and Remus were seated opposite to them, Peter held up a hand as if to stop James. "Actually, we had a vote and decided that you guys were disqualified."

"So it was all in vein," Marlene huffed.

"No way, I had a great time!" James exclaimed. "Let me help out. I'm good at Potions. Maybe not as good as you, but I know stuff." Which was both a pain and a pleasure. James had grown up forced to learn all sorts of potions knowledge as a kid. And while he'd begged to go outside flying, his brain had absorbed it anyway because it's like a sponge.

James didn't have a flying hippogriff about potions.

(Unless, maybe, on rare occasions, it included spending time with Lily Evans. Because Lily was a stellar potionneer and she was amazing in everything she did but she taught James things not even his parents knew. And when Sirius casually mentioned this back home Fleamont and Euphemia had pretty much joined forces with Sirius in colluding to get their son to marry this potions queen.)

Lily, who was still busy referring back and forth between her Transfiguration book and her parchment, leaned closer to James, resting her blushing cheek to his shoulder. And although it was barely audible, it made James heart swell as she mumbled out a small "I had a good time too."

The Gryffindors continue trying to catch up with as much as they can during the short lunch. Peter helps Marlene with the glossary, James reminds Lily in-between every paragraph she writes that she should probably eat something, and Sirius and Remus just listens to it all.

When there's only 10 minutes left of the lunch, Lily goes to get up from her nestled seat next to James. ''I'm off.'' She grimaces when the arm tightens around her, keeping her locked to the table ''Slytherins are responsible for patrol tonight by the way, so be careful,'' she adds, trying to pull away James' hand one finger at a time.

It's not the best tactic, taking it that once she's done with his pinkie, his thumb is already back.

Remus stares at their hands, feeling utterly shit. Veins pop on his own hand as he grips the padded edge of the bench they're sitting on. While Prongs goes off bantering about hospitality and simple manners to Padfoot, the index finger of the hand is picking at a thread. Other than the plucking waves of Remus' fingers, he sits motionless, peering over at an old chess set someone has left behind. He has never been good at the game, but for the moment he is trying to sort the patterns of each piece, a hopeless distraction from all amplified sounds and lights around him.

Usually he was able to keep his cool, still a few days to the full moon, but he had lost the concentration, the shield of protection dropping. Only now when he was trying to pull it back up again, it was too heavy to lift.

''She looked fairly interesting, I suppose,'' Lily answered a question he must've missed. ''Remus flew up from his seat when he saw her at the library,'' she added with a silver laugh, the light tones of happiness spreading warmth around the group. "Ravenclaws are usually good people though."

The thread Remus has been picking at suddenly tears with a thunderous ripping sound. His face betrays no reaction - but his whole hand claws the arm of the bench like an animal in a trap.

"Casanova is on the move again,'' Peter fitted, a hand pushing a poke into the werewolf's tense bicep. ''What a heartbreaker… but I guess it's fine. She proved herself to be quite action-packed if you ask me.''

''Give it a rest, Wormy,'' Lily scolded, probably the only one noticing Remus discomfort and the abuse of the bench padding. Immerse eyes offer him a comforting calm, and after a long moment he stares his breathing begins to slow. Finally.

Lily wasn't the only one to jump to Remus defence, James happily taking the opportunity to tease Peter about Suzy Taube. By now it was now decided that the non-stop blushing girl had now earned the title of Krypton, for always making Peter look like he was either about to throw up or have a permanent rash on his cheeks.

''Can't she be something cooler?'' Peter whined, because although Peter felt honoured to be compared to the great superhero from the comics, he was still under the firm belief that Suzy Taube deserved something better to be associated to. Diamond perhaps? Was that an element? He didn't know how the muggles even made them up. ''She could be Hydrogen or something.''

"If I weren't already late I would ask what element I am but I really have to run," Lily smiled. "But it better be good."

"You've got the best one, Evans, don't worry. We gave the worst one to Remus."

"Shut up, Prongs."

AN: I know i know i know i am the WORST™