Chapter 11: Motherly Affection
Hermione started fretting over Harry the second they left the classroom. Her hands flew to his head, feeling through his hair for bumps and pulling his face down so she could look into his eyes for signs of concussion. He tried to wave her away, embarrassed to be so babied in front of James and Sirius, but she was having none of it.
"Oh, Harry, I was so worried."
"What for?" he looked at her as if she had gone mental.
"Well, the last time you were attacked…" she gestured to their current surroundings and companions as if it were obvious. The three Marauders looked at each other, trying to sort out her meaning.
He sighed and shook his head. "I wasn't attacked, Hermione. He tripped me. I think it would take a lot more than a git with a big foot to make that happen again, don't you?"
She huffed and agreed, but continued to study his eyes. "Harry, how long can those stay in?" the girl worried aloud. "Don't they need cleaning?"
Harry frowned. Tonks had given him the box for the contact lenses and told him to read the instructions or risk getting a scar on his buttock like she had… or something like that. He had thrown the box into his trunk without reading it and had not gotten the opportunity to look at the box since arriving. The ocular healer told him that the lenses were charmed to resist dirt and grime, but he couldn't remember for how long. "I dunno."
"Harry," she said gravely. "If even a single grain of dirt gets under and scratched your cornea, you could go blind!"
He laughed. "I'm already nearly there without my glasses, what's the last of my sight?"
"Harry!" she snapped.
Grumbling, he fished into his bag for his glasses and the case for his contacts. He stopped walking just outside the Great Hall and tried hard not to shake as he brought his finger dangerously close to poking his eye out, touching each lens in turn and bringing them to the case.
"Uh, help me out here, Hermione… I can't see the case to put it away." She pushed the glasses onto his face. "Cheers," he said, put the lens in the case, stowing it in his bag.
He frowned at the way the world turned fuzzy around the frames of his glasses and at the weight pressing down on his nose. Two days without glasses and he was reluctant to have them back again. The risk of poking his eye out suddenly seemed well worth it.
His eyes fell on James, who was staring in open-mouthed astonishment, looking as much like a mirror to the boy as anything else.
"What?" Harry asked, worried that he looked stupid in the frames Lupin had helped pick out.
James didn't answer; he turned to Sirius and their mouths stretched into devious grins.
"We have to take advantage of this, Prongs," Sirius said as the grin cracked his face. He grabbed Harry and pulled him to stand beside James, studying the two bespectacled boys. "I thought it was uncanny before, but now… If he keeps his eyes down… No one would know the difference!"
Remus and Hermione cleared their throats simultaneously, each sporting a disapproving scowl.
"Excuse me, but what exactly are you planning to drag my brother into?" she demanded, her voice hard with displeasure.
"And precisely how large a mess am I going to have to clean or cover up?" Remus inquired.
James and Sirius froze. They knew what to do with Remus – ignore him. But Hermione was an unknown variable. Was she seriously as strict as she appeared? Would she report them to McGonagall or Dumbledore? They glanced at each other, hoping to see an answer, but found only worried questioning in the other's face.
Harry snorted, shattering their fears.
"Don't you laugh at me, Harry Granger!" Hermione warned, which only made him burst into proper laughter. "Harry!" she said and stomped her foot. She wasn't smiling, but her face had lost its hardness.
She was a pushover, James grinned. This year was going to be the best yet. He watched Harry hurry away from his sister as she tried to smack him. The boy, who now looked even more like James Potter than seemed possible, ran into the Great Hall and dropped onto the bench, knowing Hermione would never make a spectacle of herself in the presence of half the teaching staff. She glared at him, though without much venom, and sat further down from him.
"You should be careful, Hermione," Lily warned.
"What?" Hermione looked at her, confused and slightly panicked.
"You should be careful of Potter," she said. Hermione's eyes went immediately to Harry, the first Potter she had known and still the first that came to mind when she heard the name. "And Black and Pettigrew. They're troublemakers, and they'll take advantage of you for not knowing any better."
Hermione doubted they were as bad as Lily made them out to be, but she nodded her understanding anyway. "Not Remus, though?"
"No," Lily thought about it, "Remus is okay. He lets them get away with far too much, but he's a solid bloke."
Hermione said nothing. She knew that much about Remus without Lily telling her. Remus was the best professor she ever had, and a good friend to Harry. It would require no stretch of the imagination to claim that he was one of the best men she had ever met, possibly the best. She had worried that seeing him so young might alter her opinion, but, theatricality and quick grins aside, he was the same Remus Lupin as he ever was. It was comforting.
Not wanting any further attention drawn to herself, she redirected the conversation, "So you're going to Professor Slughorn's dinner?"
The girl rolled her vibrant green eyes. "Don't remind me."
"Is it that bad?"
Lily sighed, taking a moment to gather her thoughts into words that a new student might understand; all her friends knew her stance on the Slug Club already so she had yet to have to explain herself to anyone.
"It's… Well, it's all a bit contrived," she said slowly. "Slughorn handpicks the best students or the ones related to talented or prominent witches and wizards to be in his club. He has us over for dinner and holiday parties. Sometimes his former students come and it's all very impressive, really, how many of his students have gone on to high positions in the Ministry, Gringotts or been on Quidditch teams all around Europe. I mean, you should see his quarters. You can barely move for all the tosh he's got in there – all gifts from members of his club. It's a monument to 'Look Who I Know'."
"If it's just a bit annoying, then why don't you want to go?" Hermione asked.
"I've nothing against Slughorn," Lily insisted. "He's a great teacher and really does a wonderful job at making sure we understand Potions…"
"But?" Hermione prompted.
Lily paused again to consider her words.
The girl was far more deliberate than Hermione had expected; given Harry's frequent outbursts over the past year, she had assumed his temperament came from his mother since James had shown no signs of being quick to shout.
"I really don't like the idea of being part of a collection," she frowned. "I'm not something to be paraded around and talked about as if all my own work and accomplishments – even in other subjects – are because I'm in his club."
Hermione couldn't imagine any professor, even the preening Horace Slughorn, attempting to claim the hard work of a student and another teacher. She tried to picture McGonagall or Flitwick standing up in the Great Hall and proclaiming all the students' Outstanding levels in Potions was because of their own influence. It was ridiculous. Slughorn was clearly a far cry from the man who would take over as Potions Master.
She certainly couldn't picture the scowling and sinister Snape fostering goodwill and career opportunities for any of his students, regardless of their house, blood status or level of dunderheadedness.
"I suppose in a way it's good to have connections, especially when you're Muggle-born," Hermione commented. "Even if you do have to put up with a bit of glory-hogging."
"How did you know I'm Muggle-born?" the redhead asked. Her green eyes sparkled with curiosity in just the same way Harry's did. It was more than a little strange being around someone so like her best friend and false sibling.
"Oh… no, I was talking about me," Hermione backpedalled quickly, fighting with herself to keep focused on the present and not reveal too much because her thoughts had wandered off. "I meant it would be nice for me, since I'm a Muggle-born. But I'm glad I'm not the only one."
Lily smiled. "No, there are a few others. Tildy and AJ in our year, and Michael's one year ahead of us. Joss over there in Hufflepuff and his sister Mina, obviously, but she's over in Ravenclaw." She pointed to them each in turn. "There's more, but I don't know their names. It's not like we have a special club or anything."
"That elitism is best left to the purebloods, I think," Hermione laughed her agreement.
"So you're brother isn't Muggle-born?"
Hermione's smile fell. She knew the subject of Harry would turn up eventually, but she had hoped she could have put it off until getting to know people a bit better. "No, he's from a wizarding family. His mum was Muggle-born, though."
"What are the odds that the Muggle family that adopted him would have a witch, too?" Lily wondered aloud.
"Well… I was already born, so maybe they knew I was a witch and thought it would be a good placement," she replied quietly, crossing her fingers under the table that it wasn't too much of a stretch.
Lily nodded, accepting the idea as being more plausible than simple coincidence. Their conversation turned to classes, Hermione eagerly asking the girl about what to expect from the courses and teachers. Lunch passed with Lily hardly getting a question of her own in, especially once Mary, Tildy and Silvia joined them.
Mary had gotten a new Witch Weekly that morning and, having read it surreptitiously during Potions, she took over the second half of lunch paraphrasing the article on Muggle make-up techniques being the craze in Wizarding Paris. Hermione, an expert in faking interest after years of listening to Harry and Ron's Quidditch talks, easily slid through the conversation without saying anything, paying only enough attention to recognize that Mary was winding down.
As the girl paused for breath, Hermione managed to sneak a question in. "Are you taking Herbology?"
They all nodded.
Mary replied, "Yes, I'm not all that good with plants, but I did well enough to keep going for NEWT levels. Professor Sprout is great. She started our third year, and is easily among my favourite teachers. You can tell she loves her subject. But she hates if you turn up late."
"We'd best hurry," Lily agreed. "I've got to go swap out my books."
They rose and hurried from the Great Hall, rushing through the corridors and up the staircases to Gryffindor tower and back again. The girls were amazed that Hermione could remember the complicated route after only a day and a half. Mary opened her mouth to comment, but the sight of the Gryffindor boys took attention away from Hermione's prodigious memory.
"Oooh," Tildy cooed. "Looks like Jamie's waiting for you."
Lily's smile fell as she saw the messy black hair of a boy that could only be James Potter; Sirius was standing beside him talking nonstop. She huffed and marched ahead ready to tell him off for being so presumptuous, "Potter!"
Harry turned and James grinned as he saw her approach. Her indignation faltered. She wasn't sure which one she was supposed to be nice to and which she disliked on principle.
"Harry," Hermione pointed to the boy who was smiling sheepishly. "Not Harry," she pointed to the boy with the enormous and hopeful smile.
"Right," Lily said, still frowning at their similarity. "I'll make you nametags later." She grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him through the door to Greenhouse Six. It was not as overgrown as it was in their proper time. Hermione supposed that Professor Sprout had built her collection of magical plants up in the twenty years between now and then.
"I'm not the best at Herbology, Harry, but you can partner with me if you like," Lily offered.
"Yeah, sure," Harry mumbled quickly. His mum wanted to be his partner. An excited flush covered his face, one that did not go unnoticed by James or Peter.
"Prongs," Peter said quietly.
James narrowed his eyes at them, watching their interaction. Harry was blushing, but he wasn't doing anything that would qualify as flirting. "I see it. It's the heat… it had damn well better be the heat."
Peter's watery eyes flicked between James and Harry, watching them each intently as he dug lazily in the dirt and pretended to listen to Professor Sprout. Harry glanced sideways at Lily whenever she was too busy to notice, a tiny smile touching his mouth. He kept a respectful distance, his hands never once 'accidentally' brushed hers and he barely spoke a word to her. His sister did most of the talking. Still, he was blushing and smiling in a way that did not sit well with Wormtail.
"Quit staring, Peter," Sirius said. "You'll make Granger think you're in love with him." Peter stuttered and turned a deep, embarrassed red, dropping his eyes to the dirt and not looking at Harry again for the rest of the class.
As they were dismissed, he dropped to the floor, pretending to tie his shoes when really he was listening to the conversation between Evans and the Grangers.
"Hermione, would you mind helping me with my essay?" Lily asked. "I'm such rubbish at Herbology."
"As a Prefect, I think it's your responsibility to set a good example and perform to the best of your ability without outside help," Hermione said with a smile. "But Harry's pretty good and I'm sure he'd be willing to help you if you asked."
"Harry?"
The boy mumbled something that sounded like a 'yes' and Peter looked up in time to see Evans give Harry a quick, one-armed hug. "Thank you!"
He mumbled again, blushing deeply and glaring at his sister.
Evans hurried off to join her waiting friends, but the Grangers remained. Harry, showing more energy than Peter had ever seen the boy demonstrate in the brief time he had known him, threw down his trowel and turned angrily on his sister. "Hermione, what are you thinking?"
"What?" she asked with innocence no one would believe.
"Offering my help to Lily," he gestured wildly to the space the redhead had just occupied, his voice growing to a near-shout that sounded like James when he yelled at his Marauders… well, when he yelled at Peter, since he was the only Marauder who ever needed to be properly yelled at. "Do you have any idea how awkward that's going to be? Did you even think at all?"
"Harry," she sighed, not in the least bit annoyed that he had just insulted her intelligence. "I know how much you want to talk to her. You were stealing glances at her all through class. Now you have something to talk about."
Running a hand through his hair, Harry growled even as his shoulders slumped, "But she's my mo—"
"Mr Pettigrew," Professor Sprout called cheerfully, making the boy squeak and jump up from his hiding place. "Since you're still here, come and give me a hand arranging the Mandrakes for the second years. That's a good lad."
Hermione and Harry stared in abject horror as he scurried off to help the professor, not knowing how much he had heard and how he might have interpreted it. One thing was certain, he had nearly heard Harry confess that Lily Evans was his mother.
"Maybe we shouldn't talk about things like this in public," Harry suggested in a quiet voice, his aggravation severely diminished.
"Quite right," Hermione agreed with a quick nod and hurried from the greenhouse. She ran headlong into Sirius, who did not seem to mind the contact in the slightest.
"Well that's more like it!" he declared and wrapped an arm around the girl. "Hermione Granger, I knew you'd warm up to me."
"Hands off," Remus instructed and his friend begrudgingly complied.
"You're no fun, Moony." Sirius grumbled. "Where's Wormtail?"
"Helping Professor Sprout move the Mandrakes," said Harry, glancing over his shoulder to see if the boy was there listening to their conversation again. When he looked back, he saw James eyeing him with a frown.
"How do you know his nickname?" James questioned, his tone held none of the laughter it usually did.
Harry's eyes went wide. How was he supposed to explain?
"I told him," Hermione said quickly. "Remus told me you had nicknames… I sorted it out. It's not as if it was difficult."
James frowned, but nodded his acceptance of the explanation. He still gave Harry another unfriendly once-over before he turned and started up the hill. The boy was beginning to worry that a prank might be heading his way.