Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Damaged Bridges	By : Gandalfs-Beard Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Hermione Views: 46850 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, all rights belong to Rowling and Warner Bros, nor do I make any money from the production of this work.

Chapter List
- 16
- 17
- 18
The Potters' Tale

By the time Thursday rolled around, after three days of helping Dora teach Defence Against The Dark Arts, Harry and Hermione resumed regular classes as Moody had returned after resettling the Grangers and the Dursleys in Australia with new identities.
It felt a bit weird adjusting to being a student again, and the continued suspicions and whispers of the other pupils weren’t helped by the Daily Prophet, which had been having a go at Dumbledore and Harry nearly every day since the first bombshell dropped about Dumbledore’s friendship with Grindelwald. Then there were the new stories in the paper of wand thieves, and the bizarre insinuations that Dumbledore might have some ties to them,
Harry tried his best to forget it, curious to hear how things had gone with Moody. He was aware that the Grangers had chosen Australia, but he was surprised that Uncle Vernon had agreed to be placed there as well.
“I would’ve thought he’d hold out for a swanky Villa in Tahiti,” Harry snorted when he and Hermione caught up with Moody after classes.
“Dursley certainly tried,” Moody chuckled. “When I pointed out that he’d be payin’ his own way after the first month, and that the best we could manage would be to magically persuade a local company to hire him on as an exec, he was a wee bit more reasonable.”
“How are my parents doing?” asked Hermione, looking very concerned.
“Just fine, Granger - no need to worry. They were no problem at all,” said Moody. “Apparently dentists are in just as big demand in muggle Australia as anywhere else. It was easy enough findin’ them solid, well-payin’ positions in a Sydney clinic and a spiffy new house for them. ... Anyway, sorry to keep this short, but I gotta be seein’ Dumbledore - no rest for the weary.”
Departing with Harry and Hermione from Moody’s office, Dora reckoned that now was probably the best time - the moment she had been waiting for since Remus had returned to his mission the other day.
“Oi, Harry,” she said when they reached their respective quarters, “I’ve got something for you. Hang on just a minute...”
Dora darted into her private chambers. Harry and Hermione waited patiently in the corridor for a few minutes until she returned with a familiar device.
“Dumbledore’s Pensieve,” Hermione gasped.
“Er... what’s that for?” asked Harry, bewildered as Dora handed him the stone basin.
“I borrowed it for you,” Dora replied, reaching into her robes for another item, “...so you could check out this.”
As Harry’s hands were full, Hermione took the crystal vial full of swirling silvery mist from Dora’s hand, looking equally puzzled.
“They’re Remus’s memories - a few of them anyway,” Dora explained. “I... I know you’ve been havin’ a bit of a hard time, figurin’ out what was up with your parents - what they were like - how they hooked up and all that nasty business with Snape at school. I reckoned Remus oughta know somethin’ that could help, and he reckoned that these should give you the gist of things. So... er... just check ‘em out. Hopefully it’ll all make more sense once you’ve seen them...”
Hermione gasped. Harry stood there gaping at Dora, stunned into speechlessness, hardly believing it was possible.
“Er... Thanks!” he croaked, after a moment had passed, numerous emotions flickering across his features. “Thanks loads Dora!”
“Don’t mention it,” Dora said gently, swallowing as she blinked back some tears, seeing the gratitude that Harry was having difficulty giving voice to in his eyes.

~o0o~
“Are you sure you don’t want to see these alone, Harry?” Hermione asked again as Harry unstoppered the crystal vial and tipped the silvery substance into the Pensieve with shaking hands.
“No! I want you to see them with me. Please!” Harry begged anxiously, peering pleadingly into Hermione’s wetly glistening brown eyes. “I need you to help me understand.”
“If you’re absolutely certain Harry.” Hermione took his hands and gave them a squeeze.
“I am! You’re the only one I know who can really explain what other people are feeling, Hermione, and besides...” Harry gulped, “...besides, if anyone else should, er.... ‘meet’ my parents, it’s you.”
Hermione melted in his earnest gaze and tilted her head slightly, giving him a sad little smile.
“Alright Harry. Together then?”
Harry nodded, and together, still holding hands, he and Hermione leaned over until the tips of their noses touched the swirling mist, their faces squashed together a bit, only barely fitting between the sides of the rune covered rim of the Pensieve.
Tumbling through the billowing fog, Harry and Hermione finally came to rest, feet first on the marble floor in the candlelit Great Hall, amidst a crowd of students. As he peered around, Harry was surprised that the Great Hall didn’t look much different, though McGonagall looked much younger. It took Harry a moment to recognise the boy that he and Hermione were standing behind.
“It’s Lupin,” Harry murmured. “But where are my mum and dad?”
“Harry, look. There they are.” Hermione pointed and he saw them.
Harry felt a shiver of excitement, and something else - something akin to trepidation - when he spotted his father with Sirius... and his mother, Lily, standing next to Snape. Sirius said something that made James nod and snigger. Lily turned and shot them both a glare. It was then that Harry realised it must be the beginning of his mother and father’s First Year.
Sirius was among the first few students to be sorted. He took a seat at the Gryffindor table and grinned at James. Harry held his breath when McGonagall eventually called out, “Evans, Lily!”
He watched his mother ambling forward, trembling as she sat on the tottery stool. The rumpled Sorting Hat called out, “Gryffindor,” nearly the instant that it touched Lily’s dark red hair. Harry and Hermione both heard Snape groan and caught the wan smile that Lily gave him as she took a seat at the Gryffindor table.
“I expect he was hoping your mum would be sorted into Slytherin,” Hermione whispered.
Harry nodded. “Looks that way. I don’t know why he’d think she would be though. He had to know the sorting hat would never put a muggleborn in Slytherin.”
“It does seem a bit delusional,” Hermione agreed.
Watching as the other students were sorted, his father eventually joining Sirius to loud cheers as they slapped each other on the back and grinned, Harry remembered how the Hat had given him a choice. He wondered if Snape had considered asking the Sorting Hat to place him in Gryffindor so he could be in the same House as Lily. But when the Hat finally got around to sorting Snape, it seemed highly unlikely as the Hat wasted no time, shouting, “Slytherin,” even quicker than it had sorted Lily into Gryffindor.
Hermione gasped and Harry scowled to see Lucius Malfoy - apparently a Prefect - welcoming Snape to Slytherin with open arms.
The scene dissolved into another. Harry and Hermione found themselves in the First Year boys’ dorm, where seven boys were readying themselves for bed and chatting. Hermione was thankful to see that they were already in pyjamas, sparing her the embarrassment of watching them change. Sirius looked on a bit haughtily as James asked the mousy, round little boy in pyjamas with threadbare knees who his favourite quidditch team was.
“Chudley Cannons,” Peter Pettigrew squeaked, seeming pleased to be included by the posh looking boy, eyeing James’s gold cuff links enviously. “I want to be on the team some day - be a Keeper. If my parents could afford a broom, I’d consider trying out...”
Sirius snorted disdainfully. “Those losers? Cannons are bottom of the league nearly every year.”
“So who do you support then, Sirius?” asked James.
“Holyhead Harpies of course,” said Sirius, grinning. “Those witches can fly.”
“How about you? ... Remus Lupin isn’t it?” James asked Lupin, who was sitting on his bed, head buried in a schoolbook, looking like he was trying very much to avoid being noticed. Lupin glanced up, startled.
“Er... Who? Me?”
“Yeah - you!”
“Oh... er, I don’t follow quidditch much,” Remus muttered.
James gave him an odd sort of look, and for a moment Harry wondered if James thought Lupin was a weirdo for not liking quidditch. But James seemed to have noticed something else.
“You alright?” he asked. “You look a bit peaky.”
“Er... I’m fine,” Remus said quickly, averting his eyes.
The scene shifted again. Feeling a bit disoriented, it took Harry a moment to realise that he and Hermione were somewhere outside near the boathouse. It appeared that a few months had passed and was perhaps nearing the Christmas Holidays as patches of snow lay on the ground. Remus was sitting on a boulder, his head buried in a book yet again. Sniggering voices caught their attentions. Remus peered over the top of the page and stiffened.
Harry was startled to see Snape lurking nearby with two other Slytherins, both of them rather loutish looking. For some reason, after having viewed Snape’s worst memory, Harry had expected Snape to be a bit of a shy, bookish loner like Remus, but Snape’s swagger suggested someone who viewed himself more highly - like Malfoy - despite his tatty robes.
“Well, well, if it isn’t the lurgy-boy,” sneered one of Snape’s friends.
“G...go away. I... I want to be alone,” Remus stammered.
“Why? You contagious?” Snape’s other friend eyed Remus with obvious disgust.
“Probably a Mudblood disease,” sniggered the first. “Dunno why they even let your sort in to Hogwarts - infecting everyone else with your filth.”
Remus flushed, but said nothing, no doubt thinking it was better to let them think he was a muggleborn rather than find out he was a werewolf.
“Maybe if he gets lucky, one day Sev will invent a cure...” chortled the second.
“Doubtful!” sneered Snape, a scornful expression on his face. “There is no cure for Mudblood... if that is indeed his affliction.” Snape narrowed his eyes, chewing his lower lip pensively, as if studying Lupin.
“Well, there is one spell that might cure him...” said the first pointedly, retrieving his wand from his robes. “You’re lucky I don’t know that one yet, Mudblood. But maybe this one...”
“Oi... Leave him alone,” a voice called out. Harry and Hermione spun around, spotting James and Sirius standing on the rise near a copse of pines, both with their wands drawn.
“Or what?” snorted Snape. “There’s three of us and only two of you.”
“Or we’ll make you,” said James, grinning. “You sure three is enough to take us on, Snivellus?”
“Either one of us could take all three of you pathetic losers on with one arm tied behind our backs,” taunted Sirius. “Maybe you should get three more, and then it would be even.”
“Perhaps they need a little demonstration,” said James, giving his wand a little flick.
Harry wasn’t entirely certain who fired the first spell, Snape or James, but all of a sudden the hillside near the boathouse lit up with jets of light and bolts of lightning. Sparks burst from ricocheting spells as they flew through the air and hit trees. But despite dodging and weaving, it appeared that nearly everyone was hit by spells at least once.
Having sprouted a cottontail and bunny ears, Snape apparently decided enough was enough and he and his fellow Slytherins - one with a face full of tentacles, and the other covered with yellow feathers - quickly fled the scene. James groaned, staggering to his feet, wincing as he touched the painfully blistering boils on his face.
“That fucking prick,” James muttered. “He used Dark Magic on me.”
“You and me both,” gasped Sirius, who was nursing a limp arm. “He hit me with a Bone Breaking Curse. How the hell does a little twirp like him already know a Bone Breaking curse in First Year?”
“I... I’m sorry,” said Lupin in a small voice, looking aghast. “Really, you needn’t have stuck up for me. I’m not worth it...”
“Don’t be stupid,” said James kindly. “I don’t mind if you’re muggleborn... and you could have lycanthropy for all I care,” he added pointedly, raising his eyebrows.
“Wh...what?” gasped Lupin, reddening. “I... I’m not a... a werewolf.”
“Sure you’re not.” Despite his pain, Sirius smirked. “We’re not stupid. ... Getting ill and disappearing from our dorm for three nights every full moon the last three months? What else could it be?”
“You don’t have to keep trying to push us away,” said James. “We think it’s cool that you’re a werewolf!”
“But... but I’m a monster!” Lupin muttered, casting his eyes down.
“Nonsense!” James proclaimed, waving his hand dismissively. “You’ve just got a furry little problem is all.”
“And you’re not half bad with that wand,” said Sirius, looking impressed. “Was that Canary-Feather Jinx yours?”
Lupin nodded.
“Nice one!” said James. “Come on, Remus, don’t be so mopey all the time. Hang out with us.”
“You... you really want to be friends with me?”
“Yeah, we do!” James asserted firmly.
“What he said,” Sirius agreed.
Remus glanced back and forth between his two dorm-mates uncertainly, his hesitation wavering. Harry could almost see the war going on in Remus’s brain between multiple sides - his disbelief that anyone might actually like him - his feelings of fear and guilt for being a dangerous monster - and his desire to not be alone anymore.
Finally, it appeared that Remus’s longing for friendship won out.
“Okay,” he said, nodding and smiling tentatively. “Alright then. I’d like that. Now maybe we should get you two to the hospital wing...”
The memory faded and the next thing Harry and Hermione knew, they were in the Gryffindor common room. From the Christmas Decorations, they surmised that very little time had passed, maybe a few hours, maybe a few days. Harry’s heart lurched, seeing his mother again, bearing down on James Potter.
“Is it true?” she asked sharply, glaring at him. “Did you hex Severus and turn him into a rabbit?”
Sirius sniggered.
“What? He actually told you?” James raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t reckon Snape for a tattler.”
“No! I saw him with bunny ears and a tail, and he wouldn’t tell me what happened,” Lily snapped. “But after you turned Mallory’s hair purple and green the other day, I figured it was probably you.”
“Mallory should be thanking me,” said James, grinning. “It’s a fashion statement. You’ll see - in a few years everyone will be dyeing their hair non-traditional colours.”
“Gah! That’s not the point!” Lily fumed. “I’m talking about Severus. Why do you keep picking on him?”
“I dunno. Because he’s about as Slytherin as a Slytherin can get, I guess,” James scratched his head, looking puzzled. “What’s withyou Evans? What do you even see in him?”
“He’s my friend!” said Lily, her voice shrill. “Leave him alone!” she shouted before turning on her heel, her long hair whipping as she whirled around and stalked off.
“Hmm... I think I like her,” said Sirius roguishly.
“Oi... I saw her first,” James retorted.
Remus rolled his eyes. “No you didn’t. Snape did, apparently.”
“That’s the other thing I don’t get.” James scowled. “What does Snape see in her? I thought he hated muggleborns. I don’t hate muggleborns... shouldn’t Evans like me more than him?”
Sirius shrugged. “No accounting for taste, mate...”
The next memory was almost as brief as the last, but it accounted for how Peter had also become friends with James and Sirius. James, Sirius, and Remus were all out for a stroll, and it looked like Spring somewhere near the lake as a group of starlings flew overhead calling out to each other.
Voices could be heard coming from the other side of some bushes. When his father and Sirius and Remus poked their heads round the corner to see what was going on, Harry and Hermione followed suit.
Harry began to fume at Snape’s utter hypocrisy, seeing him once again - along with his two stalwart Slytherin pals - bullying someone, this time in a very familiar manner. Snape had his wand out and Peter was dangling upside down in the air by one ankle squeaking fearfully as the Slytherins’ laughed uproariously at him.
“Good one Sev!” said the larger of Snape’s two friends, grinning.
“That’s brilliant!” chortled the shorter of Snape’s two friends. “I haven’t seen that one before.”
“I just invented it,” Snape said boastfully. “The incantation is Levicorpus...”
“Is that so?” James stepped out from behind the bush, his wand at the ready. “Thanks for the tip, Snivellus.”
“Potter!” Snape spat venomously, his narrowing eyes darting towards Sirius and Lupin who emerged from the bushes to join James.
“Avery and Mulciber are right - that looks like fun,” said James coolly. “Can I give it a go too? Which one of you wants it first? How about you, Snivellus? Fancy a dangle at the end of your own spell?”
“Maybe next time,” Snape sneered, releasing the spell. Peter Pettigrew crumpled to the ground, whimpering. “You can have your mascot back for now. Don’t know why you’d want him really - he’s not much of a Gryffindor. Makes a great lab-rat though...”
The Slytherins stalked off, leaving James, Sirius, and Remus to finally make proper friends with Peter, who was bountiful in his gratitude. Harry and Hermione gaped at each other in surprise.
“Harry,” gasped Hermione, “Levicorpus - that’s one of the spells...”
“...in the Prince’s book,” Harry muttered angrily. “Snape must be the Half-Blood Prince. I can’t believe it - all this time I’ve been making excuses for the Prince, but you were right Hermione - he was a nasty, horrid person. And to think I felt bad for my dad bullying Snape too, when it was Snape’s own spell to begin with, and Snape used it to bully people as well...”
Harry didn’t have time to continue seething; the scene changed again. This time a few years had apparently passed - if Harry had to guess, it looked like some time in Fourth Year - and he and Hermione were drawn to a girl crying in the corner of the Gryffindor common room, being consoled by several others - one of them his mother. Lupin was the only other one in the common room, ostensibly studying, but he was listening in with one ear, looking troubled.
“Mary, please tell us what happened,” Lily beseeched, for what seemed to be the umpteenth time.
The girl named Mary wavered, flushing with shame; finally she nodded.
“It... it was Mulciber,” she sobbed. “He imperiused me - m...made me strip down to my bra and knickers in front of his friends. He... he was going to make me take it all off, b...but then Peeves showed up and started making a racket, so he stopped and they all ran off before they could get caught.”
“Who else was with him? Was one of them Snape?” asked one of the other girls, shooting a dirty look at Lily.
Mary bit her lip, not able to look Lily in the eye, and nodded. “Y...yeah, Avery and Snape were with him. S...Snape just stood by and watched while Avery egged Mulciber on. I... I’m sorry Lily, I know Snape’s your friend, but I d...don’t get what you see in him. He calls me Mudblood every time he gets an opportunity - he calls nearly every muggleborn Mudblood - he’s absolutely horrible!”
Her cheeks turning crimson, Lily couldn’t look Mary in the eye either, clearly noting that Mary had refrained from pointing out that Lily was the only muggleborn to be spared the hateful word by Snape.
“I’m sorry,” Lily mumbled. “It... it’s just... it’s because of his muggle father. His dad hates magic and treats him and his mum badly for being magical... I think he used to beat Severus sometimes, before he started Hogwarts...”
“So that’s it,” sighed the girl who had given Lily a dirty look, rolling her eyes. “Now I understand! You feel sorry for him and you think you can save him from himself, and convince him to change his ways, don’t you? ... You’re just fooling yourself, Lily. If Snape hasn’t changed after three and a half years at Hogwarts, it’s too late for him. You should ditch him before he gets the chance to hurt you too...”
The portal to the common room opened, and three boys entered. The girls quieted, then headed up the stairs to their dormitory, apparently deciding to look after Mary with a bit more privacy. Remus glanced at James, Sirius, and Peter, indecision on his face.
When the scene shifted again, and Remus had still said nothing, Harry and Hermione both reckoned he had kept the exchange with Mary to himself, not willing to give James or Sirius a reason to retaliate and go after Snape.
Harry didn’t know exactly what to feel now, after hearing that Snape’s father had probably beaten him like Uncle Vernon had hit Harry. But from all the available evidence, Harry knew intellectually that the girl who had admonished his mother was right. It was too late for Snape at this point.
The next memory seemed as if it were only days later; James and Sirius were arguing following the incident in which Sirius had supposedly pranked Snape, and Mary MacDonald had come up. Somehow the story of what had happened to her had made the rounds, even though Remus hadn’t said anything.
Indeed, Remus was studiously avoiding getting in the middle of the argument himself, sitting miserably by himself in a corner of a decrepit room with peeling wallpaper, and cracked, splintery floorboards, which could only be in the Shrieking Shack, listening to two of his friends fighting. Peter was nowhere to be seen, having probably fled as soon as the fight began.
“How could you?” James shouted at Sirius. “You know what could have happened if Snape had actually run into Remus last night!”
“I’m sick of that greasy little Slytherin stalking us, trying to get us in trouble,” Sirius snapped. “He’d worked out that Remus was a werewolf, same as we did, and he was determined to expose his condition and get him expelled - or maybe worse...” he added darkly.
“And that’s exactly what might have happened if Snape had made it all the way down the tunnel,” James retorted angrily. “Snape could’ve been killed, and Remus would’ve been kicked out.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” Sirius shot back heatedly. “I didn’t make Snape go down that damn tunnel - he’s been trying to get in here for months, knowing exactly what he’d find! All I did was tell him how to get past the Whomping Willow if he really wanted to see where Pomfrey was taking Remus. Snape would have worked that bit out for himself just as easily eventually.
“So it would’ve been his own damn fault if he got killed. ... And I wouldn’t lose any sleep over it if Snape had. I heard what happened to Mary MacDonald the other day from one of her friends, and Snape was in on that too - they probably would’ve raped her if Peeves hadn’t showed up.
“That’s who you just saved - a little prick who’s planning to join Voldemort and murder and torture and rape muggles and muggleborns! For all you know, that could be Snape’s plan for Lily Evans eventually! How would you feel if that happened, knowing you could have prevented it?”
James swallowed, paling. He looked conflicted for a moment, then he shook his head.
“Look, Snape’s a rotten bastard to everyone else, but he’s never treated Evans like that. For some reason he seems to like her. And anyway, we can’t stoop to his level - we might as well become Dark wizards too if we’re going to take it that far. We’re not Slytherins - we’re Gryffindors - we’re better than that!”
That seemed to take the wind out of Sirius’s sails. He bit his lip, looking slightly abashed. Then he shrugged.
“Maybe you’re right, James. I still wouldn’t care if Snape had tripped himself up, if he’s stupid enough to think he could take on a werewolf, but yeah, I probably should have just left him to find out for himself - hoist himself on his own petard - instead of making it easier for him. I’m sorry, alright? ... Still friends?”
James nodded and grinned, deflating. “Of course we are...”
Most of the next few memories were pleasanter by and large, some of them depicting James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter involved in fairly harmless escapades, discovering the secret tunnels, inventing the Marauder’s Map to sneak out, getting detentions for minor pranks, the worst of which reminded Harry of the swamp that the Twins had created during Umbridge’s reign at Hogwarts.
Somehow, James, Sirius, and Remus had between them managed to turn the Transfiguration classroom into a sunny tropical beach, palm trees and all, with an inlet of seawater during a particularly sweltering late Spring day. Professor McGonagall had been so impressed by the skills demonstrated, that instead of giving them detention, she gave the class the rest of the day off to enjoy the beach.
All the students had been delighted and changed into swim gear to make the best use of the fake seashore. Harry tried not to peer too closely at his mother, who was sporting a two piece bikini. But he couldn’t help noticing that even she was stealing admiring glances at James - though that might have been as much due to James’s trim physique, on full display in his swimming trunks, as it was to his prowess with a wand - then blushing and quickly looking away when James grinned back at her.
Harry noticed her shooting the occasional appreciative glance at James during quidditch matches too, often with Snape nearby looking on jealously. Though every time James acted a bit of a fool, showing off with the Snitch he had stolen following the matches, hoping to impress her, Lily had huffed angrily and marched the other way, sometimes with Snape.
Snape shot insufferably smug looks at James after such incidents. But Harry and Hermione both noticed Lily’s friends steering her away from Snape on more than one occasion, as they whispered in her ear and shot dirty looks back at Snape. Manoeuvring closer, they overheard, “...called her Mudblood again...” escape one of the girls’ lips.
The memories weren’t all fun and games though. Snape was even more determined to get one up on James, apparently having decided that by saving him from werewolf Lupin, James was somehow even more to blame than Sirius for “pranking” him. The skirmishes grew even more intense, though James and Snape had both got better at dodging spells.
Snape barely missed James with an unknown spell which explosively shattered a statue of Giardano Bruno, while James’s Babbling Jinx hit a hapless passing Hufflepuff instead. Snape and his goons somehow vanished just as Filch arrived, and James and Sirius and Lupin ended up doing detention for both the statue and the Hufflepuff.
Then came a memory which made Harry’s blood run cold. He didn’t think he could bear to see it again. He and Hermione were standing in the Great Hall, and the House tables had been replaced with a hundred or more individual desks. Except this time, it was Lupin that Harry was overlooking, instead of Snape.
Hermione’s eyes widened. “Harry, they’re taking OWL’s. Is this when...?”
“Yeah,” Harry growled, “except I suppose we’re seeing it from Remus’s point of view.”
Harry couldn’t watch again and left Hermione to it. She cringed as she witnessed how horribly James had treated Snape in that particular instance, for no particular reason that was readily apparent. But she frowned when Snape used a familiar looking spell on James during the incident, gashing James's cheek.
“Sectumsempra,” Hermione hissed. Then the memory continued as Harry had recalled, with his father reasserting his dominance and Lily eventually departing in a furious huff after Snape called her a “filthy little Mudblood” and James tried to make him apologise.
“If it’s any consolation Harry,” said Hermione after Lily Evans had stormed off, squeezing Harry’s hand comfortingly as they wandered away from the immediate scene, closer to the lake, “given the horrible things we know that Snape and his friends got up to - and how he was always trying to get your father and Sirius in trouble - it’s understandable that your father eventually went a bit overboard when Snape didn’t have Avery and Mulciber around to back him up.”
“Yeah, I suppose,” muttered Harry. “I still don’t think it was right though.”
“No, it wasn’t,” Hermione agreed. “But even though I probably would have tried to stop you, if that had been you instead of your father, it’s hard to argue that Snape didn’t have it coming.”
“You... you really think so?” Harry peered at Hermione earnestly.
“Yes, Harry!” Hermione reached out and gently caressed Harry’s cheek. “You don’t have to feel guilty for something you didn’t even do yourself, especially when the person your father did it to was a bully himself - a viciously racist bully. Everything Sirius and Lupin told you about what Snape was like during school is true.
“Your mother never really saw what Snape and his friends got up to. She only heard a bit about it secondhand from friends who had been on the receiving end of their abuse. If Snape had been more obvious about it in front of her, I expect she would have ditched him... Which she probably did after he finally called her Mudblood. It looked like she’d finally had enough of him to me.”
Harry smiled gratefully, feeling the tension in his gut melt away and a weight lift from his shoulders. If Hermione didn’t think his father was rotten, after bearing witness to the memory, it had to be true.
“Thanks Hermione,” he murmured, pulling her closer for a kiss. “You don’t know how much better that makes me feel. D’you think my mum was alright with my dad then, after all?”
“Well, it’s obvious she fancied him a bit, even if she did think he was a conceited prat,” said Hermione. “And I can’t be entirely certain, but I think some of her anger at James at the end there was at herself, for being so blind about how far gone Snape was. That’s why she lashed out at Snape too after he called her Mudblood, and left James to it...”
Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione caught the crowd dispersing. She and Harry both glanced back at the scene to see that James had thankfully not removed Snape’s underwear, but had instead left Snape swaddled in voluminous reams of fabric, giving himself a chance to depart without any further escalation.
When Remus and Peter trailed after James and Sirius, Harry and Hermione braced themselves for a new memory. Harry recognised the new surroundings instantly; the hospital wing was all too familiar to him. He thought they might be in sixth year now, as the light spilling through the windows looked cold and wintry.
“Again Mr Potter?” Madam Pomfrey frowned as she dabbed at the nasty looking gash on James’s forearm with a cotton swab laced with Essence of Dittany. “This is the third time in as many months I’ve seen you with a tainted wound...” She glanced at Remus, perplexed and worried, then at Sirius and Peter, who were both doing their best to look a picture of innocence, before shaking her head as if to dismiss the idea.
Unlike Remus, Sirius, and Peter, who were all on the opposite side of the hospital bed, Harry and Hermione were close enough to Pomfrey to hear her mutter, “Wrong time of the month,” under her breath. They watched as the injury sealed over when Pomfrey waved her wand and murmured an incantation.
Hermione bit her lip and Harry looked a bit puzzled as they peered at the skin of James’s arm. Usually when Pomfrey healed scrapes and cuts, the spell left the skin smooth and unblemished.
“It looks like you have a new scar to add to the list, Mr Potter,” said Pomfrey severely. “I don’t know what you’re getting up to, but it needs to stop.”
“It wasn’t his fault...” Sirius growled, giving James a glare, almost as if to urge him to fess up. James glowered back and Sirius shut up.
“Hmm... indeed.” Pomfrey arched one eyebrow cannily as she regarded the four troublemakers in her infirmary. “Well, that’s the best I can do, Potter,” said sharply. “As before, I must warn you to be cautious for the next few days, lest you open that wound up again. Please try not to run into any more Dark spells before you heal completely from this one.”
James gulped, clearly hoping that Pomfrey continued to hold patient confidentiality in high regard. When she stood up abruptly and returned to her office, James took Pomfrey’s diktat as a dismissal. Harry and Hermione followed as the inventors of the Marauders’ Map departed from the hospital wing. Almost as soon as they had passed through the entrance of the infirmary, Peter began to hector James.
“I don’t know why you don’t just tell her...”
“Because I’m not a snitch...” said James, who seemed to be struggling to keep his patience, as if they’d had this argument more than once.
“But it’s Snivellus,” Peter whined. “And you didn’t even start it...”
“But at least he finished it,” said Sirius, suddenly grinning. “That greasy git won’t be showing his face while that beak he calls a nose is thrice the size and gushing like a fountain - nice one James!”
“Snivellus was snotting all over himself,” sniggered Peter. Remus frowned.
“Just a minor Engorgement charm to start, with a dash of Endless-Bogey hex thrown in for good measure,” said James with a false air of modesty which gave way to a flicker of shame. “Anyway, Snape’ll be back to normal in a few hours...”
“And you won’t be back to normal for a few days,” Sirius interjected pointedly, the grin fading. “You should’ve opened with the Endless-Bogey hex, instead of the Big-Nose jinx, after Snivellus’s tripping jinx on the stairway. If you’d fallen down the stairs like he obviously hoped, you could’ve cracked your skull open and died.”
“I was trying not to escalate things,” said James, glancing at Remus, who still hadn’t said a word.
“Tell that to Snivellus,” Sirius snorted. “D’you think he gives a damn whether you stick to jinxes and hexes? No! He’s a Junior Death Muncher - him and his little gang. He’s trying to murder you - the tripping jinx didn’t do it, so he upped the ante and used that blasted Dark cutting curse of his on you again...”
“Sectumsempra,” Remus muttered, speaking up for the first time. “Sirius is probably right, James,” he added, looking conflicted. “If you hadn’t got your arm up in the nick of time, that gash would have been across your throat. Maybe you should have just gone for the Endless-Bogey hex to begin with.”
James looked disconcerted for a moment. If Remus was agreeing with Sirius...
“Look, maybe I should’ve reacted with stronger hex instead of a jinx to begin with, but Evans is right!” sighed James. “I can’t go around being a giant prat forever. If I’m going to be an Auror, I need to start acting like life isn’t just one big joke. Voldemort is out there right now, murdering and torturing muggles and muggleborns - like Lily - and I’ve wasted five years pranking people over minor annoyances and idiocies.”
Peter winced at the use of the Dark Lord’s name but James ignored him and barreled on.
“If I want to be taken seriously, I need to get my act together, and if that means giving people the benefit of the doubt - even prejudiced dungheaps like Snape and his mates - then so be it. How can I be any better if I act just as rotten as those arseholes? Isn’t that what you’ve been trying to tell us the last five and a half years, Remus?”
“That’s very true,” said Remus, nodding. Then he sighed. “But I would be lying if I said you and Snape were ever really just the same. Yeah, last year during OWL’s, you took it too far... you were way out of line when you went for Snape, and I should’ve said something then - tried to stop you. But I didn’t!
“And I didn’t because you’ve always stuck up for me, and stuck up for Peter, when Snape and his mates were harassing us! I... I suppose I’ll always feel guilty for letting what you did to him slide, but by the same token, I honestly can’t say you’ve ever really been like him and his lot...”
As the memory shifted again, Hermione gave Harry a wan smile, as if to say, “I told you so,” in the kindest way possible. The scene that greeted them next was festive, the Gryffindor common room emblazoned with Christmas decorations once more.
Lily was giving James a funny look as he toasted his friendship with Sirius, Remus, and Peter, with what was apparently “Slughorn’s famous eggnog.” Harry couldn’t help recalling Slughorn’s spiked eggnog as being one of the better things from his own experience at a Slughorn Christmas party not so long ago, despite trying to wipe that horrible night from his memory.
Remus spotted Lily staring at them, and pointedly drew Sirius and Peter from the fire to look at something on the Christmas Tree. Sirius caught on quickly and gave James a roguish wink as Remus dragged him and Peter away; James rolled his eyes, muttering something about “...a snowball’s chance in hell,” under his breath.
James turned back around, startled to see that Lily had indeed taken the opportunity to approach him. The orange flames of the fire sparkled in Lily’s green eyes, which James seemed to notice. For once, James actually looked slightly nervous around Lily.
“There’s something different about you this year,” said Lily. “Well, it’s more noticeable now than it was at the beginning of the school-year, anyway.”
“I’m even better looking than I was last year?” James quipped, grinning.
Lily rolled her eyes. “Or maybe not, after all.”
“Er... sorry Lily,” said James, with a sincere look of contrition. “Force of habit. I’m trying to turn over a new leaf, if you must know.”
“Trying to win brownie points with me, are you?” said Lily, smiling wryly. James chuckled.
“Actually, I want to be an Auror after Hogwarts, and I reckon it’ll be easier if I don’t have so many detentions under my belt. ... But if it wins me a date with you, that’s a bonus I wouldn’t sneeze at.”
“Hmm... no promises. But I like this version of James Potter. Keep it up, and who knows?” Lily lifted her own cup of heavily spiked eggnog. “Cheers! Happy Christmas James!”
“Cheers Lily! Merry Christmas,” said James, taking a sip of his own eggnog. He looked slightly disbelieving, but there was a renewed spark of hope in his eyes as Lily sauntered back across the common room to rejoin her friends. He turned to look at his chums and Sirius flashed him a thumbs up and another wink...
Harry raised his eyebrows at Hermione as the Christmas scene faded. She bit her lip and grinned.
“I’d say that was the turning point,” Hermione opined. “Probably why Lupin gave you that particular memory.”
“Really? that was all it took?” said Harry, shaking his head, half-smirking.
“You heard her. Your father would’ve had to have kept it up to really win her over. Let’s see what else happens...”
As the next memory came into focus, Hermione wasn’t at all surprised to see it taking place in The Three Broomsticks, a much younger Rosmerta behind the bar with a grizzled older man who was possibly her father directing her to some customers. Given the dull, grey light coming through the rain streaked windows, It was hard to tell what time of year it was.
Remus and Sirius were off in a corner of the tavern by themselves. Somehow, Sirius looked a lot less arrogant, more mature; his whole demeanor was different, his eyes gentle, more like the way Harry remembered him when he wasn’t being annoyed by Mrs Weasley or harassed by Adult Snape. And Remus looked about as happy as Harry had ever seen him at his happiest.
Harry’s eyes darted around the pub, seeking out his father and Peter, and perhaps Lily as well. Surely they were there somewhere. Why else would Remus have given him this memory?
“Over there Harry,” said Hermione softly when she spotted them, tugging gently on Harry’s sleeve.
Harry caught Hermione’s wistful expression as he turned to look, finally spying his not yet parents sitting in a secluded candlelit booth, on the opposite side of the pub from Sirius and Remus. Peter was nowhere to be seen. Harry was surprised to see James and Lily sitting so close together, holding hands, and wondered how long it had been since the last memory. But now he understood Hermione’s rather sentimental look.
Swallowing, Harry felt a lump in his throat as he and Hermione drew closer to the booth, feeling somehow as if he were invading an intensely private moment, even though he technically wasn’t there at all. If he wasn’t so curious, Harry would have fled right then and there and simply waited for the next memory.
“I don’t really deserve it,” James was saying, looking slightly embarrassed. “It should have been Remus - but he turned it down.”
“Maybe! But Dumbledore wouldn’t have even considered you if you hadn’t really done something to earn it - ” Lily said quietly. “Head Boy, when you weren’t even a Prefect. ... That’s almost unheard of. The last time that happened was over fifty years ago - I looked it up.”
“Er... maybe that’s enough about me.” said James awkwardly. Lily paused, peering soulfully into his eyes for a moment.
“I said last year at Christmas that you’d changed,” said Lily, smiling, not willing to let the subject go just yet, “but since we’ve been dating, I can see now that wasn’t entirely accurate. Who you were before - the braggadocio, the cockiness - that was just for show, wasn’t it? Who you are now - that’s the real you - the you that you’d been hiding from everyone for years.
“I think I understand now. You always wanted to be the hero, the chivalrous knight, the one who always saves the day, but you didn’t really know how...”
“Yeah, I guess that’s about the size of it,” James admitted ruefully. “But then I finally figured out that being a hero isn’t always about being the brash knight swooping in on a white horse, clobbering your enemies whenever you get a chance.
“It’s about doing what’s right, even when it’s hard - standing up for people who are being mistreated - even when they’re people you don’t like. You’re the real hero, Lily! ... I thought about that a lot that summer after fifth year - what you said when you stuck up for Snape that day. And I didn’t like what I saw in myself - that wasn’t who I wanted to be.
“You called me a bully, and I couldn’t believe it at first. ... Me, a bully? No way! I was supposed to be saving people from bullies. ... But then I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and I knew you were right...”
Lily bit her lip, her eyes flickering down momentarily, looking slightly ashamed.
“Well, maybe you were being a bit of a bully... especially that day at least. But honestly, maybe that was what it took for me to see what I’d been pretending not to see for ages - that my best friend was a bully himself. I... I couldn’t admit to myself that he’d chosen his path long before, and it wasn’t a good one...”
“Hey, look at me,” James reached out his hand to gently lift Lily’s chin and look again into her startlingly green eyes. “There’s still a chance he’ll come around and turn out alright some day. ... I never could figure him out - why you were the only muggleborn Snape liked. But the only thing that makes sense to me now is that there must be some good in him somewhere - for him to see the goodness in you.”
Lily’s breath quickened, and then without warning she leaned in and kissed James. As the kiss grew more impassioned, Harry turned away, unable to look anymore, his face wet with tears.
Hermione smiled sadly at him and pulled him closer for a hug and a kiss on the cheek. When she finally released Harry, the scene had changed once again, to what was surely the last memory in the sequence.
This one Harry recognised from photos given to him by Lupin and Hagrid - the Potters’ wedding...
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Damaged Bridges