Very well, Jamie," Hermione sulked. His arms came around her then and their dark heads bent together. She would be polite to Peter Pettigrew, or at least not overtly rude—but that didn't mean that she wouldn't watch his every move. The slimy little creep.
HP/HG/HP
"I made it, Hermione! I made it!" James' bellow echoed through Gryffindor. Hermione rolled her eyes at Lily and turned to her brother. She widened her eyes so that she looked completely innocent—a look she'd perfected for their parents.
"Really, James? What did you make? Oh! Are you on the honor roll?" Hermione looked pleased and excited. James frowned at her.
"What? No! Merlin's Beard, woman, don't you pay any attention to me?" James demanded. Hermione blinked, still keeping on her innocent face. She frowned slightly.
"But, Jamie darling, I pay attention to you all the time. If I paid any more attention to you your swollen head wouldn't fit into your quidditch helmet," she cooed at him. Lily covered her mouth with her hands and giggled. Watching James and Hermione was always funny. He glared at his sister.
"That's precisely what I'm talking about! I did it! I told you I would do it, and I did," he said triumphantly with a touch of that natural arrogance that Hermione was doing her best to temper this time around. She grinned at him giving up the pretense of not knowing why he was so excited.
"What position?" She asked fondly.
"Keeper! Sirius made Chaser!" James was jubilant and swung his sister around in an arc.
"Jamie!" She shrieked. "Put me down!"
She looked at Sirius and Remus who were standing next to James, also flushed with their exertions. She moved forward and hugged Sirius for a moment, she pulled back and kissed his cheek impulsively. He seemed surprised by her actions and stood there woodenly.
"Congratulations, Sirius," she said against his cheek.
"Thank you," he said, his breath tickling her ear. She was pulled away from Sirius by an exuberant James.
"You'll come see all my games, right? Right?" James demanded.
"Of course I will. I dare say Mum and Dad will come, too," Hermione said warmly. "Did Remus try out?"
"Er, no," James said shortly with a furtive look at his sister. "His, um, grandmother gets sick you know. He'd miss too many practices."
"Ah," Hermione said understanding more than her brother thought she did. "Well, that's probably for the best."
"Yeah, it's for the best," he muttered. Remus blushed and stared at his shoes.
Hermione went to every single game that Gryffindor played, and she sat with Remus and Lily and screamed herself hoarse. Her parents came as often as their schedules would permit, and they, too, cheered for James and Sirius. Hermione noted sadly that the Blacks never came to a single game, and her heart ached for poor Sirius.
That year the Quidditch playoffs were between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. Hermione was so excited that she had raced ahead of Remus and Lily, to see if her parents were already in the stands. She stopped uncertainly in the Gryffindor section. Her mother and father were there already, but there was a strange man that she'd never seen before. He was tall, handsome, broad-shouldered, and he had a casual arrogance that spoke of the same sort of breeding and privilege that Hermione herself knew in this life. He tossed back his long, dark hair to laugh at something that her father said, and Hermione felt a chill down her spine. She moved closer, as though she could not help herself, and she stared up at the man in front of her.
"Ah, Alphard, this is our Hermione, James' sister," Charlus Potter said warmly, putting a strong arm around Hermione's shoulder. Hermione blinked up at Alphard Black's dark grey eyes. He looked so much like the grown-up Sirius that Old Hermione remembered, but he was not. It was something in the eyes, maybe. He smiled charmingly at her and bowed over her hand, barely brushing his lips against her hand. She frowned at him, slightly.