Chapter Text
November 12th, 1978
Hermione was hiding. Her chest heaved, lungs burning from the relentless pace of battle. She pressed herself against the cold, crumbling stone wall, fingers gripping her wand so tightly her knuckles ached. Sweat slicked her skin, mixing with the dirt and blood smeared across her face. Every muscle screamed in protest, exhaustion threatening to drag her under.
She clenched her jaw and reached for her leg, hissing as pain flared up her thigh. The wound was deep, and she could feel the sticky warmth of her own blood soaking through her robes.
She closed her eyes. Focus. Breathe. In. Out. She needed to move. Needed to keep fighting.
"Granger," a voice snapped her out of it.
Her eyes flew open. Sirius crouched in front of her, his face shadowed in the dim light, dark hair falling into his intense, worried eyes. There was no trace of the reckless grin he usually wore—only urgency.
"We need to move," he said, voice low but firm.
She wanted to argue, to push past him and throw herself back into the fight, but her body had other plans. Her limbs were sluggish, her magic frayed at the edges from overuse. She grunted, swallowing back frustration, still getting used to this young, battle-hardened Sirius.
He reached for her, and she let him drag her to the safe point, his grip strong and steady. The moment they apparated, the air was sucked from her lungs, her stomach lurching violently.
They landed in James Potter's house with a sharp crack. The murmurs in the room died instantly.
“Hermione?” Remus was the first to speak. His gaze flickered over her, taking in the blood, the exhaustion, the defiance still burning in her eyes. “Sirius, are you guys alright?”
“Yes,” she forced out, but her voice wavered. She turned to Sirius, eyes flashing. “You had no right to pull me from the mission.”
“You were hurt.” His tone was unreadable, but the muscle in his jaw tensed.
“So what? Everyone gets hurt in these missions,” she snapped, pushing off him and swaying slightly before she steadied herself. “I need to go back. Evans is still out there—”
“She’s with James and Alice,” Sirius cut in, stepping closer, his voice rising in frustration. “You’re bleeding. You can barely stand. For once in your life, stop worrying about everyone else and listen.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but before she could get a word out, her vision blurred. The room tilted violently, and the last thing she saw before the darkness swallowed her was Sirius lunging forward, arms catching her before she hit the ground.
________
September 12th, 1977
Hermione was nervous. She still didn’t know how to behave, how to blend in. It had been a week since she had started her final year at Hogwarts, and though she had memorized names, schedules, and even the unwritten rules of the school's current social structure, she still felt like an outsider. Like an imposter walking through time.
Because, in a way, she was.
In this timeline, she was a Ravenclaw. No more red and gold. She had made sure of that. A clean break. A new identity. But now, she had a class with the Gryffindors, and that made her nervous. Nervous to see them. To interact with them.
She bit her lip as she stepped into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, scanning the room for a seat. Choosing an empty table was safest—she could control who sat next to her, manage the interaction instead of being forced into one.
To her surprise, Lily Evans slid into the seat beside her, tucking her red hair behind her ear as she turned to face Hermione with an easy smile. But there was sharpness in her eyes—curiosity, calculation. Head Girl or not, Lily had a reputation for being sharp-witted and observant. Hermione braced herself.
“Hermione, right?” Lily asked, her tone warm but carrying the unmistakable edge of someone trying to piece together a puzzle. “How are you settling in? I imagine it must be difficult transferring in your last year.”
Hermione hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “Yeah, it has. But it’s safer this way.”
Lily’s brows furrowed slightly. “Safer?”
“My house isn’t safe anymore.”
“Oh,” Lily said after a moment. “You were home-schooled?”
Hermione nodded. “Something like that.”
“Do you come from a pureblood family?” Lily asked, though there was no malice in her voice, just genuine curiosity.
“No,” Hermione replied, meeting her gaze directly. “Muggleborn. Just had great teachers.”
Something flickered in Lily’s green eyes—understanding, recognition.
Before Lily could respond, the door banged open, and James Potter strolled in with Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew and Remus Lupin flanking him, their easy confidence filling the room like a gust of wind. The Marauders. Hermione had known they would be here, but seeing them in person, young and alive, still caught her off guard.
“Evans,” James greeted, flashing his usual grin. His eyes flicked to Hermione, curiosity evident. “And the new girl.”
“Hermione Granger,” Lily introduced.
James tilted his head. “Granger? Don’t think I’ve heard that name before.”
“She’s muggleborn,” Lily supplied before Hermione could.
James raised his brows with intrigue. “Brave of you to come here now,” he said, more serious than she expected. “With everything going on.”
“I can handle myself,” Hermione said firmly.
Sirius, who had been watching the exchange silently, smirked. “I like her.”
Lily rolled her eyes. “Sit down before Moody hexes you all.”
As the boys found their seats, Hermione exhaled slowly. She had survived her first real interaction. But as she glanced at Lily beside her, then at James and Sirius across the room, she knew this was only the beginning.
And she had no idea just how much they were all going to change her life.