Chapter Thirty-One: The Alternate Terrible Universe of Biff Tannen
Albus watched as his goddaughter paced in a circle in his office in between shoving bites of chocolate bars in her mouth.
"That's it," she said, "I've got to use it."
"The polyjuice?" Albus said mildly, "again? Poor Mr. Mayfair and Mr Hughes, they might fail their classes at this rate. You might as well hire them as your personal potions masters."
His goddaughter's eye twitched but she kept pacing. There was a faint nail mark on her lower lip.
"The time turner, Dumbledore," she snapped, "I've got to use the time turner. This is your fault you know! You've gone and bollocksed everything up, as usual!"
"Me?" Albus said mildly, "what have I done now? You have a fingernail mark on your mouth, did you know?"
"Merlin's pants!" his goddaughter shrieked, pulling out her wand, "Sana Scalpere!"
The mark disappeared.
"May I ask–"
"Oh sure, fine," his goddaughter said, finally stopping pacing to glare at him, "I did it to myself by accident after I snogged Sirius in the library. I was traumatized by his lips."
"Lost another bet?" Albus said, raising a delicate eyebrow. Inside, he was giggling. Teenage drama never ceased to amuse him.
"Kissed him again, did you girl?" Phineas Nigellus asked, "I hope it was better than the last one. If you want to impress my great great great grandson he's got a lot of kisses to compare it to, you know."
"I do know that," Hermione said, yanking at her hair and resuming pacing, "and I snogged him for fun, Albus. I've lost my mind. That's your fault too. Why did you put this in my head? You and James both! I was perfectly happy thinking of him as a reckless middle aged man who had his youth stolen in prison–"
"And deserved a second shot at living," Albus murmured, "never had a chance at love, poor boy, and now you've given him one–"
"This is exactly what I mean!" Hermione said, throwing up her hands, then snatching a piece of chocolate off his desk and pacing away, talking through a full mouth as Phineas Nigellus recoiled in disgust at her lack of manners, "you put this in my head! And James, blathering on about how Sirius really liked me, please, that's a lie, or if it's not a lie it's more of James being delusional, he's good at that–"
"Takes one to know," Phineas Nigellus murmured from his portrait.
"-saying it wasn't just a game to Sirius, that he didn't only like me because I didn't like him, please, like he won't drop me like a hot potato now that he's gotten what he wanted–"
"This deserves a time turner flip?" Albus said, fighting a laugh, "a little kiss, Hermione? The poor boy has one good memory to sustain him in Azkaban now. Is that too much of a sacrifice for you?"
"You are absurd," his goddaughter said coldly, "and you think you're more subtle at manipulation than you actually are. Of course I'm not using it for the kiss! It's Lily and Regulus that's the problem! And now Peter! And don't get me started on what's going on with Snape!"
"These are all good developments, I thought," Albus said, "we agreed that getting to Regulus Black and fixing his trajectory at an earlier date was of paramount importance–"
"We agreed that was the one thing we could meddle with!" his goddaughter hissed, "at great risk, but still, given how things have turned out…we agreed. I'm not talking about that! I'm talking about her snogging Regulus!"
"Who?" Phineas and Albus said together, both of them a little too eagerly.
"Lily Evans!" Dilys Derwent said impatiently, "keep up, gentlemen!"
"Oh Salazar," Phineas moaned, effecting a dramatic slump, "both of my grandsons married to mud-muggleborns! It's worse than my great great granddaughter being as mad as a hatter."
"Is it?" Albus said pointedly.
"Is it worse than your line dying out because your last male descendents have both been murdered at a young age by dark magic and their users?" Hermione said coldly.
"I suppose not," Phineas was forced to admit, "the Head Girl, at least…that's almost impressive enough to wash out the stain. She's a beautiful girl too." There was a pointed pause.
"Yes I know," Granger said irritably, "I'm a hideous troll that Sirius is using like a toy and everyone knows and is laughing about it."
"Well now I don't believe that that's true," Albus said, mildly alarmed now, "I"ve never seen him dedicate this much interest to a young lady before. He's been here multiple times asking after you. I told you!"
"Investigating me like I'm a serial killer," his goddaughter fumed, pacing off again, "that's not romantic interest, Albus!"
"Obsession can be a rock solid foundation for a relationship," Albus said, "here, eat some more chocolate, I think you need it."
"Obsession can be–Dumbledore, have you gone mad? Or was that another one of your jokes?"
"A little of column A, a little of column B," Albus said, "but back to your insistence on using the time turner. Over a snog, Hermione? Isn't this what we wanted?"
"Regulus Black snogging Lily Evans?" Hermione half shouted, "no!" She crammed two pieces of chocolate in her mouth with a fury then resumed pacing.
Albus rather desperately wished to ask her about the kiss with Black, but knew he might end up getting hexed if he did. Or at least, she'd try to hex him and he'd let her.
Good to build self esteem in the young ones, sometimes.
"Forgive me," Albus said, "I know I wouldn't let you tell me all of the details, even when you begged so nicely, but if we need Regulus Black to help us destroy Tom's horcruxes at an earlier date in order to save our world from destruction–"
"She's supposed to marry James Potter, you buffoon!" his goddaughter wailed, falling onto Albus's fuchsia poofy chair he kept for students who were prone to dramatics. It was James Potter's favorite chair. "You know that! You purposely set up a ridiculous scenario from a television sitcom where they got tied up in a room together to facilitate their romance! Behind my back! And then you had to scramble to make sure the boys didn't get expelled when I caught them–"
"You weren't supposed to catch them, to be fair," Albus murmured, "so really, that plan failing was your fault, my dear."
His goddaughter picked up a book with a violent glint in her eye, like she was going to brain him with it for angering her. Instead, she furiously flipped through pages. "Here!" she said, shoving the book at Albus on a specific page, "Read this!"
"You've made me read it before," Albus said mildly, after glancing at the title of the chapter. As if the book weren't mine and I hadn't already read it, even."
"Well the lesson clearly hasn't sunk in!" his goddaughter said, "if Lily falls in love with Regulus–"
Three men appeared out of thin air, holding onto a portkey that was made from a pair of bifocals that were hip in 1922. Two of them, red haired and freckled of face, fell over onto the third, who remained upright only by the sheer mass of his body.
"Oh, for the love of–"
"Having a meeting without us, Albus?" one of the redheads said from the floor, "oh hello. Who are you now?"
His goddaughter had frozen in place, the book still stretched out to Albus.
"The Butterfly Effect," the other redhead said, reading the chapter title out loud from the floor, "huh. didn't take you for a butterfly fan, Albus."
"Hermione," Caradoc said, brushing at his robes where the redheads had crashed into him, "heard you've been snogging Black. Well, it was only a matter of time, eh?"
His goddaughter jerked like she'd been hexed in the stomach and snapped the book shut as Fabian Prewett tried to read further, a line appearing between his brows.
"Funny," Fabian said, as Gideon straightened up, his eyes on Albus's goddaughter with alert curiosity, "this doesn't look like a book about butterflies, Albus. It looks like–"
How did you find out?" his goddaughter blurted, then gave a noise that was maybe nervous laughter, "did Uncle Al tell you already?" She bent an accusing look on Albus.
"Oh, I've got contacts," Caradoc said easily, "little tendrils, if you will, in this school. I hear all the gossip fresh."
"Minerva?" Albus said, "and she didn't even tell me!"
"Don't blame yourself, Albus," Caradoc said, sitting in the fuschia chair next to his goddaughter and almost squashing her, "only I can get Minnie to tell me things, you know? It's a gift."
"Are we getting an introduction?" Gideon asked, sitting in Albus's half moon chair, eyes still watching his goddaughter intently.
"No, I'm leaving," Hermione said, eyes darting to the door, but Caradoc put a huge arm around her, keeping her in place.
"Why?" he asked, as Fabian sat on Dumbledore's table of shiny magical objects, "I need all the details!"
"Didn't Minnie give them to you?" Hermione asked acidly, prying the arm off of her shoulder.
"Apparently you tongued Black in the library while his ex girlfriend watched," Caradoc said, "well played, I didn't know you had that type of pettiness in you."
"This is her, then?" Gideon said with interest, "the goddaughter, Albus?"
"Tounger of Sirius Black," Fabian murmured, playing with Albus's incense holder.
Albus could see that his goddaughter wished to deny both, but couldn't quite figure out how. He held in a giggle. It was best not to taunt her too much. He intended to be the best godfather ever.
"Now boys," he said genially, "my dear Hermione has worked hard for us."
Caradoc snickered.
"Very hard," Fabian murmured, "poor lamb. I know Black is such a grotesque, it must've taken a lot of fortitude to–"
His goddaughter leapt to her feet, "well it's been fun but I've got detention," she blurted, "with Pince. And Filch. Talk to you later, Uncle–"
"Oh that," Albus said, waving a hand, "I got you out of that."
"You said you refused to help me get out of them!" his goddaughter said, outraged, her face still pink from the teasing about her snogging Sirius Black, "you said I needed to learn that you couldn't always bail me out of trouble, like I've ever asked you before–"
Albus shrugged.
"Isn't he a scamp?" Gideon drawled.
"Fine, then I'm going to bed," his goddaughter said, swiftly changing tracks, "er, now."
"At four in the afternoon on a Saturday?" Fabian said, tossing a priceless item of Albus's from hand to hand. No matter. He'd had it so long he forgot what it did, only that it was most likely wildly expensive.
"All that kissing wore her out," Caradoc said with a sigh, "I'll have to congratulate Black. I was beginning to think his reputation was all bunk."
"It is bunk," his goddaughter said, "I mean…got to go, nice to meet you–" she positively lunged for the door.
"Hermione," Albus said, and her hand spasmed on the doorknob, one foot already out, her shoulders hunched up to her neck with agitation, "take Gideon and Fabian with you to meet my future godson, will you?"
A book flew at his head.
"Right," James said, looking around him at his best mate and his future wife, if only she'd stop snogging Reglus Black and move on to snogging him like she was supposed to, "let's talk strategy. I've got my notebook, and–"
"I need Amelia here," Lily said from her stump by the edge of the Forbidden Forest, Hagrid's hut nearby with a load of pumpkins still growing near it, "she's part of the Order too, you know."
"I shouldn't be," Pete said, "not after what I did."
He was looking at the ground. He hadn't looked at James in almost twenty-four hours. The guilt, that wildly unfamiliar feeling, had been building in James. How had he not noticed that something had been wrong with Pete? What kind of friend was he?
"Stop that," Sirius snapped, taking a drag on his cigarette, and James jerked and wondered if Sirius had read his mind, "Pete, if anything it's our fault!"
"That's right," James said at once, "we've been lousy friends!"
"Terrible," Remus agreed.
"Don't go blaming yourselves," Pete said to the ground still, "none of you would've put yourselves in this spot. I'm the one who talked to a bunch of–bunch of– you know, just because I felt–" he stopped.
"Felt what?" Sirius prompted with a scowl, "and where is Granger? She said she'd be here!" He craned around, looking back at the castle through the half dead trees at the edge of the forest, the ground blanketed with autumn leaves that were turning to rot in the coming winter chill.
"She's coming," James said with confidence, "she said she would, and she will. She had to meet with Dumbledore about something, she said."
"You'll all have to tell Dumbledore I'm a traitor," Pete said, his voice funny, "it's the right thing to do. I didn't mean it, not really. I was just…I dunno."
There was a supremely awkward pause while he smashed fallen leaves with his shoes and Sirius smoked and scowled and Remus chewed on a fingernail and Lily compulsively played with a bracelet on her left wrist, avoiding James's gaze like he was a basilisk.
"It's ok," James tried, "we understand." He was lying.
"Do we?" Remus said.
"Yes," Sirius snapped, "don't talk to him like that.'
"Well, explain for Pete then, Pads," James said, trying to not sound like he was just as confused by the whole mess as Remus.
"I shouldn't have to," Sirius said, "what's the matter with you two, not understanding him?"
"I understand," James blustered, "He's uh. Susceptible to…that is…uh…he was bored!"
Pete's ears went red.
Sirius snorted with contempt, "right. Bored. Don't worry Worms. I understand."
"I don't think you do either," Pete said, voice barely a whisper.
"It doesn't matter why," Lily said unexpectedly, "all that matters is he realized he needed to tell the rest of us. This is good, really."
"Is it?" Remus said, now chewing on a different hand's nails.
"Yes," Lily said, "don't you get it? Now he can spy for us!"
"Spy?" Remus said blankly, "for Dumbledore and the Order?"
"Pete?" Sirius said, also blankly, "pretend to be a Death Eater?"
"Convincingly?" James said.
"Can't we just start out with me managing to pass my Charms NEWTS?" Pete squeaked.
Sirius backed out of the portrait hole, his arms full of sandwiches, cursing his mates for taking advantage of his newfound guilty conscience to make him run errands like a servant boy while they came up with increasingly ludicrous plans for Wormy to become a spy for Dumbledore. It had taken all his recently won maturity and simmering guilt for ignoring that Pete had clearly been in crisis for some time while all his mates ignored him to refrain from pointing out that Pete was the worst liar in the history of the universe and could not possibly spy for anyone. After a particularly stupid idea of Evans, where she had insisted that Pete could somehow join her at the Death Eater party with Reg and not get caught within minutes and turned into a pile of ooze, James had taken a look at Sirius's bright red face and ordered him to get them sustenance.
"A fine idea!" James had boomed as Sirius as half run away, biting his smart remarks back for perhaps the first time in his life. It was unpleasant. He had no interest in ever not voicing his thoughts again.
"Mate, you'll never inherit my title as Sexiest Wizard Alive if you keep eating like that," a man said to Sirius's back.
"Don't you have a job?" Sirius said, turning about with care so he didn't drop the fourteen sandwiches he was balancing, "you know, one that doesn't involve you being the weird sad adult who hangs out with teenagers?"
"Nope," Caradoc Dearborn said cheerfully, uncrossing his perfect giant arms as he leaned against the wall opposite the portrait hole. He smirked at Sirius like they were sharing a secret, then pulled a diamond shaped mirror out of his pocket and spoke to it. "He's at the kitchens, stuffing his face. I'm sad to say my reign of Hottest Wizard Alive has to be extended for another year. And just when I thought I had found a worthy successor!" A man's tinny voice responded, but Sirius couldn't make out the speaker, or the words. Too fast of a talker to be Dumbledore, at least.
"She's not here," Sirius said rudely, "so bugger off. Find another teenage girl to snog in a loo."
"I think you're the one doing the snogging, eh?" Caradoc said, eyebrows raised, "good work, I told you she was dying for it."
"Yeah well," Sirius said, trying to look modest. He failed, judging by the way Dearborn started snickering. "What?"
"I would tell you to work on how arrogant you come across, but I think our girl likes it, don't you? A little bit of a condescending, smug bad boy is just what she needs I think."
"Condescending?" Sirius said, saving a ham sandwich from a tumble off the top of the pile, "smug? This from you, the walking ego?" He would allow bad boy. He did own a motorcycle and (after his birthday celebrations) forty-two pairs of leather trousers. An alarm bell rang in the back of his mind, then disappeared, only to be remembered when he was lying in bed that night, trying desperately not to wank himself half to death over Hermione bloody Granger yet again.
"You just going to take that, Dearborn?" a man said unexpectedly as he rounded the corner, a spring in his step. "I mean, not that the boy is wrong. Smug and condescending is your forte."
Dearborn conceded the point with a nod.
"The boy?" Sirius said, annoyed, "and who are you now? Are you bringing more adults here to creep on teenage–"
"Ah, Gideon, Caradoc," another man said from the opposite direction of the corridor, "found him by the kitchens eh? It's like old times!" He looked around fondly at the portraits, and then grabbed the still precariously perched ham sandwich from Sirius's pile and took a bite.
"Oi!" Sirius said impotently.
"I can see why you're concerned about your crown," the first red haired man–Gideon–said, eying Sirius closely, "he's not quite there yet, a little young, but give him a few years and even Minnie will prefer him, mate."
"She already does," Sirius said, "who else has gotten her to crack a smile at a dirty Valentine's Day gram?"
"Been there done that, I'm afraid," Dearborn said with a sorrowful shake of the head, "and I've gotten her to go with me to dinner. So you've got some legwork to put in."
"Dinner?" Sirius said, "Minnie? With you? Did you Imperius her?"
"Probably," the second red haired man said with a nod.
"Never," Dearborn said, "all it took was my beautiful face and arse. So watch it with those sandwiches if you ever aspire to my heights, Black."
"I'm taking notes," Sirus said dryly. He tried to be subtle when looking about for Granger. Where Dearborn was, Granger followed. Or was it vice versa? Sure, he'd not spoken to her in the two days since they'd snogged, but was that his fault? Or was it Pete's fault for dumping a calamity on his lap and taking priority over Sirius's raging hormones? Or was it Rosemarie River's fault for telling everyone in the school that Sirius had been up to shenanigans with Granger in the library, starting a problem beyond any he'd yet experienced with a bird?
"Looking for someone?" Dearborn asked innocently.
"No," Sirius lied, "so, why am I getting the joy of your company?" He eyed the two red haired wizards more closely. Gideon? And– "oh, the Prewett twins!" Sirius blurted like he was James or something. "What are you two doing here?"
"Not twins," the other one–Fabian, maybe– said, "we get that a lot. Barely a year apart and we look alike–"
"And act alike, and sound alike," Dearborn nodded.
"But not twins," Gideon finished.
"Ah," Sirius said, "sure. Last time I saw you two–"
"We were at Mamie Nott's charity ball in the country," Fabian said, "your mum got into it with our sister about her fiance, and then–"
"I put a trip jinx on Abraxas Malfoy and he fell out the window," Sirius said fondly.
"Er, why?" Dearborn said, looking amused.
"Long standing habit of hiding the hag's lunacy from other purebloods," Sirius said shortly, "taught to me by her husband, to spare the family from shame."
"The hag and her husband?" Gideon said, also sounding amused, "you mean–"
"My parents, yes," Sirius said, "don't remind me."
"Happy memories," Fabian said with misty eyes, "Molly wanted to adopt you after that. What were you? Five?"
"Nine," Sirius said, trying not to be charmed by the Prewett almost-but-not-quite twins and failing. The hag had always hated purebloods like them. But just because the hag hated the Prewetts didn't mean Sirius should blindly trust them.
"Nine, and already a little hellraiser," Fabian said, wiping away a tear, "you were right, Caradoc. I do like him."
"Your brother got Lilith Malfoy to follow him out the window next," Gideon said, "made it look like she slipped on some water. More convincingly an accident than you, and he was even younger." The three wizards looked at Sirius, the smiles gone.
"Reg's finest hour," Sirius said shortly. It had been. Even his parents hadn't had the heart to punish them after the ball. Much.
"A shame he went down the wrong path," Gideon pressed.
Sirius kept silent, but his eyes narrowed.
"He's smarter than most people realize," Fabian said, "isn't he?"
"Yes," Sirius said, voice cold, "people do tend to underestimate him."
"People including you, I'd say," Caradoc said, all joviality gone from his demeanor. It might've been frightening, for someone who wasn't as brave as Sirius, to see the change in persona out of nowhere. But he hadn't been raised by the hag to be unsettled so easily.
"Not including me," Sirius said, "now if you'll excuse me, I've got sandwiches to eat. Give my best to Granger, would you?"
He walked back out of the corridor, face hard.
"Black," Gideon said to his back, "tell your brother it's time to row now."
"What?" Sirius said, spinning around, immediately breaking his internal promise to walk away like he hadn't a care in the world. All three of the wizards were watching him with peculiar expressions.
"You heard him," Caradoc Dearborn said. The air of lighthearted fun that always came from him was gone, replaced by something far more menacing.
"I heard him alright," Sirius said, "It sounded like he was hit with a babbling hex. Time to row?"
"Yes," Fabian said, "that's right. He should understand."
"And it doesn't matter if I don't understand?" Sirius demanded.
"No," Caradoc said, "that has never mattered at all."
Sirius stormed through the courtyard with his sandwiches, ignoring the various people who called out greetings to him. Could one person in this bloody school stop speaking in riddles? Was that too much to ask? His eyes drifted over a circle of older students near a pillar, then snapped back.
"Oi!" Sirius shouted. The sandwiches went flying without a second thought. His wand was already snapping through the air. He ran into Gifford Goyle with the sound of breaking glass, then bounced off of his hulk without a backwards glance. "Get away from her!"
Leslie Juniper was straddling Granger on the ground. Her long suffering only friend, Edgka Turmon, was holding Granger's arms in place so she couldn't fight back. In any other circumstances, three girls straddling each other in school girl costumes might've made, at the very least, a good dirty joke to tell his mates. But not this time, when Granger's face was covered in blood. Juniper went flying, but not before her first connected with Granger's face flicked his wand a second time, and Edgka fell backwards as well, a look of relief on her face. Coward. If she didn't want to beat up an innocent girl, she could've just said no.
"What are you all doing!" Sirius bellowed to the Slytherin girls who'd gathered round, hands tucked firmly in pockets. He half fell half lunged to Granger's side, grabbing at her bloody face.
"Don't blame us, Black," Genevieve Bletchly shrugged, "if she was Sami, of course we'd help, but Granger has told us to leave her alone. We're just doing what she's asked of us."
"Besides," Gidget Warrington said, "we're pureblood girls. We can't use our hands to fight! We don't even know how!"
Granger feebly pushed at Sirius, but he turned her face gently to the side anyway to see if her nose was broken
"You're hurting me, Sirius," Granger said as he prodded at the blood to see the damage. He saw the Slytherin girls whisper to each other as he dragged her fully into an upright position.
"What's the matter with you!" Sirius shouted, "You can't use your hands to fistfight? Are you witches or not? Use a bloody wand!"
"Sirius!" Juniper pleaded from behind him, "don't be mad at me!"
"You lunatic!" Sirius shouted, "I can't stand you, get that through your thick head! Just because I kissed her, eh? That gives you the right–"
The Slytherin girls exchanged a glance, doubling his rage. This was it. He might do it. He might snap and break the most cardinal rule of being a teenage boy and attack a girl. Maybe multiple girls. If he used magic, was it still a horrible, unforgivable thing for a bloke to do? And did he care, either way?
"That's not why!" Juniper said, as Granger used more force to shove at Sirius's hands, which were rubbing blood off of her like he couldn't just do magic or something, "she was cheating on you!"
Sirius froze for a moment, but then resumed checking Granger for injuries. Why hadn't she used her wand to defend herself? Had Juniper snuck up on her?
"She was, Black," Bletchley said, "we all saw it."
"It was some gorgeous giant blonde guy," Daisy Parkinson cut in, "snogging her brains out against that tree."
She pointed to Sirius's favorite lounging tree. Perversely, he briefly fantasized about taking an axe to it so he wouldn't have to think about Granger snogging Caradoc Dearborn against it every time he saw it. Stupid of him. A flame charm would work much better.
"So what?" Sirius said coldly, "maybe we snog him together." He helped Granger to her feet. Behind him, he saw the giant hulk that was Gifford Goyle lying in a sea of smushed and abandoned sandwiches.
"It was disgusting," Gidget said, "they were really into it, Black."
"I don't care if she was shagging him!" Sirius exploded, lying his arse off, "that doesn't justify–get the fuck out of my way, Warrington!"
The gasps that followed this statement only made him angrier. That was it. This day was going to end with someone in a lot of trouble. He'd make sure of it. If only he could have known that it was going to be him who ended the day in a lot of trouble.
"Sirius,"Juniper pleaded, "can't you see she's got you under a love spell? Please, I bought you an antidote–"
"Get away," Sirius snarled, "get away or so help me I will–"
Unexpectedly, Granger grabbed his tie and yanked him away before he punched a girl.
"I see you've made a recovery," Sirius said, as Juniper's wails of despair grew dimmer.
Granger pulled out her wand and murmured a few spells, and her half torn uniform and bloody face cleared.
"I told you, Sirius," Granger hissed at him as they escaped the courtyard and made their way into the stone corridor ringing it, "I told you to leave me alone! Didn't I? I told you this nonsense would happen, and I didn't have time for it! I've got more important things to do, you know! But you just had to shove your tongue–"
Sirius pushed her onto the nearest windowsill, and kissed her, pouring all of his frustrations about Reg, and Pete, and his own failings as a brother and friend and now maybe jilted quasi boyfriend into it.
Granger kissed him back just as hard, which surprised him and didn't surprise him all at once. He was between her knees from where he'd placed her on the ledge and he pressed forward, hands on her thighs, Granger's left hand pulling his hair, the right gripping his shirt. Sirius groaned, and just like that, she was pulling away, pushing him back.
"Was I just sucking on Caradoc Dearborn's saliva?" Sirius said, wiping at his mouth.
"Yes," Granger said.
"Great," Sirius said shortly, "care to explain?"
"No," Granger said, wiping at her own mouth.
"No?" Sirius said, "is that a joke?"
"Absolutely not," Granger said, closing her legs tightly together. Pity. He'd quite liked being there.
"Order business?" Sirius jeered, his heart pounding. He'd spent days telling himself the mess with Pete was more important than anything else, and repressed all other thoughts. That had been a mistake, he saw now, when every emotion he'd shoved down inside him was exploding in confusion and anger and jealousy. At least that was he thought that last feeling was, jealousy. He'd never quite felt it before, after all.
"Sure," Granger said, "Order business."
She was fumbling at her robes, and Sirius felt his anger licking his insides as he pictured her fucking Caradoc Dearborn. God. Was this what it was like being James? Had he been too harsh on his best mate all these years? This sort of feeling made you insane.
"And can I ask what kind of Order business requires you to snog a grown man on school grounds?" Sirius asked acidly.
He knew something like this had been going on between them, even when his mates had all argued otherwise. He knew Dearborn had been laughing at him every time they met. And especially in the hallway outside the kitchens, something had been going on in his eyes when they'd spoken. Something that now retroactively screamed "I'm shagging your bird, mate."
"Sure," Granger said again, still fumbling at her robes, "why not? You'll forget anyway."
"Excuse me?" Sirius blustered, "why the fucking hell would I forget–fine, tell me."
Granger said the very last thing he'd ever expected.
"Well it was Order business," Granger said, "that part I can't explain. Sorry. But it wasn't just Order business. I asked him to. It took him ages to agree. As a favor he owed me, understand."
"You asked him–"
"I wanted to stop picturing you and me naked together and hoped snogging someone else would make it go away," Granger said, "it's too weird, what with you being Harry's godfather and all. You could be my father, you know."
"What?"
There was a golden glint in Granger's hand.
"What are you–?"
"Don't worry," Granger said, "I'll ignore you and you'll move on in a few days to one of your thousand admirers because you're bored of me, and you'll never know how I feel about you. No one will ever know."
"How are you–" too late, he realized what the golden flash was. "No, don't!"
But she had turned the time turner over once, and everything disappeared.
"Mate, you'll never inherit my title as Sexiest Wizard Alive if you keep eating like that," a man said to Sirius's back.
"Don't you have a job?" Sirius said, turning about with care so he didn't drop the fourteen sandwiches he was balancing, "you know, one that doesn't involve you being the weird sad adult who hangs out with teenagers?"
"Nope," Caradoc Dearborn said cheerfully.
Sirius walked through the courtyard with his sandwiches, dodging Gifford Goyle and a group of Slytherin girls who were sitting on a ledge and giggling at Leslie Juniper, who was crying into a Gryffindor scarf Sirius was praying to Merlin wasn't the one he'd lost two years before while Edgka Turmon patted her back and sighed.
Out of the corner of his eye, near a pillar, he saw a flash of bushy brown hair. His neck practically cracked in half, but when he looked, even when he walked over to check to be sure, no one was there.
Fine. So Granger was hiding from him still, because she'd liked that kiss in the library more than she wanted to admit. He could wait a little longer for a girl that different from the rest. She'd be kissing him again in no time.
Author Note: A while back I realized I included this line from Remus talking about Hermione kissing Caradoc: "And the best part," Remus said, squinting at his toast again, "is that no one will try to kill you for snogging him, at least." But as it turned out, Remus was wrong." And then I never paid off that dangling plot thread! So of course, I had to fix that in the most infuriating and shit balls bananas way possible. You're welcome? haha