A Secret is Meant to be Kept

When Ron lashes out at Hermione and gets them into a sticky situation, Hermione transports herself back in time. But the Marauders Era was a bit farther than she expected. She must figure out how to reverse the spell, deal with falling in love all over again and fight against some of the most notorious Death Eaters, who are inside the castle's walls. Not as intruders, but as classmates.


9. Accept

The summer before their second year had been stolen as quickly it had begun, and Hermione had felt a tad more optimistic about this year.  Considering what it would be like to survive a year without having to worry about some life threatening force, Hermione remembered that this was her second chance, that this is exactly what the boys were going to be doing, save Remus, who would have to live with a condition that restricted him from having a care-free life.  But, even in this second chance of a life, Hermione could not afford to be careless, her own future was at stake.


The days came and went, and the children were met with nothing spectacular.  Hermione continued to wonder if the feel of Hogwarts was different because she had experienced this age before, or because she wasn’t at a constant risk of death.  Maybe the true magic was in the bond that she had with her friends.  But, how was she to know?  She hadn’t exactly made many friends during her stay in this time, only acquaintances.  There were of course the girls that she roomed with, but Hermione felt out of place at times.  Worrying about end of year exams, which she had already passed with flying colors, struggling with controlling their magic, talking about “cute” boys; Hermione felt trapped.  Hermione didn’t relate to the girls of her own age in topics like this, let alone girls that were technically 5 years her junior.


Long walks around the Black Lake were what calmed Hermione, as opposed to her extended amount of time in the library, which usually soothed her.  These days, she felt trapped, as if the air around her could never be enough if it was shared with even one other person.  However, she did tolerate having to share the air with a select few people.  Remus being among the small few, he only seemed to appear during the days following the full moon.  The bags under his eyes seemed to be painted almost as purple as the dark sky that they often walked under.  Some days, there were just silence, as if Remus was afraid to ask anything of Hermione, though he had several questions.  He took comfort in the fact that Hermione never questioned his timed absences, and how she always conveniently carried a bar of chocolate with her, sharing with Remus as they discussed it’s “healing properties”.


Other days, she was accompanied by Lily, who would point out the beauty of the land that surrounded the castle.  Hermione always made it back to their dormitory with a flower in her hair, freshly picked and strategically placed by Lily herself.  On a few days, the ones that always seemed to be the longest, Hermione’s solemn mood was combated by jokes and witty remarks.


“Hear there’s a giant squid in that lake,” Sirius said, edging toward Hermione, hands in his pockets.  “You believe it?”


“You wouldn’t believe what’s down there, but I’m sure the squid is the most friendly,” Hermione joked, Harry’s description of his hour in the Black Lake rushing through her mind.


“Well, ‘Mione, what do you suppose is down there?” he questioned.


“Ah, maybe Hagrid hides the skeletons there,” she chuckled.


“Oh, bollocks!  That old softie couldn’t hurt a fly.”


“No, but who’s to say the creatures that he ‘keeps’ are as kind?”


Sirius smiled at this, gazing into the night sky.


“I’d bet you’ve got a bigger bite than half the animals out there,” he challenged.

Hitting his arm playfully, the two bumped into each other, joking, laughing, living.  Maybe she could make friends here, maybe she wasn’t doomed to waste away, searching for a way back to a time where she wasn’t much better off anyway.  Why should she be so hard on herself?  This wasn’t her old life, and some things are simply out of her hands.  Her life wasn’t cookie cutter clear, she didn’t fit into the box of conformity by which she lived her previous life.  Harry and Ron were her previous life, there was no James, Lily, or even Euphemia.  There was no Hermione Potter, just Hermione.  This Hermione vowed to live, live until she was forced to die; that fate she had accepted.

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