Start of the journey

"Oh, father," Hermione said in a despairing tone. Her mother hid a smile. Their Hermione had frightened them. She'd been unconscious for a couple weeks, and the mediwitches were worried about pressure on the brain. However, they'd reduced the swelling and she seemed fine now. Thank Merlin. If anything happened to her it would kill James.

"Look, mum, look!"

James was tearing through the house shrieking at the tops of his lungs. Hermione just sat at the dining table holding her Hogwarts letter and smiling to herself. She still had confusing dreams; she wasn't sure what was real and what wasn't. She only knew what she could see, and taste, and feel. All of her senses told her that this was very, very real, but she remembered Hogwarts, and she knew she loved it there. Charlus Potter entered the dining room and smiled at his daughter.

"You got your letter, as well, didn't you princess?"

"Yes, sir," Hermione replied handing the letter over to her father. He kissed her lightly on the forehead and went to sit at his place at the head of the table.

"Now dear, I know it's a herculean task, but do try to keep your brother out of trouble, as a favor to your old mum and dad," her father teased her. She stuck out her tongue at him.

"Daddy, you egg him on! You were just as bad in your school days as James will ever be," Hermione groused. Her father laughed.

"That is very, very true," he acceded with a smile. "Now, your mother and I will be taking you both to Diagon Alley to get everything next week. Your mother wants to make sure that neither of you want for anything while you're there."

Once Hermione was fully recovered, she snuck into James' room and crawled into bed with him. His hand found hers in the dark and they lay there side by side. As babies, they had shared a crib and as toddlers they had been allowed to share a bed, but when they grew older it was no longer appropriate. She remembered that Hermione Potter had cried as though her heart would break when she was given her own room at the age of five. James had snuck into her room that night and slept with her. He was gone when she woke in the morning. It was the sort of thing that they had outgrown for the most part, but occasionally they still sought the comfort that only close contact brought.

"What will happen, do you suppose?" He asked in the darkness of his room. Hermione bit her lip.

"Sometimes, twins are sorted into different houses," Hermione confessed to him. A tear trickled down her cheek. James snorted in the dark.

"Well, that's not going to happen to us," he swore firmly. Hermione clutched his hand in the dark and hoped it was so. She remembered being in Gryffindor and to her it was still the best of houses. She knew from her other memories that the majority of the Potter family had been in Gryffindor, with a few stray Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and Slytherins peppering the family tree.

When the official day to catch the Hogwarts Express arrived, Hermione felt so peculiar. Her old memories kept intruding and trying to overlap the present. She kissed her mother and father good-bye whilst James tried to pretend that he was too grown up and manly for such things. She remembered kissing and hugging her muggle parents good-bye as well. She was so confused that she followed Jamie docilely and sat in the same compartment with a distant, thoughtful look on her face. She pulled out a book and began to read. Another boy entered their compartment. He looked at them both with intelligent, curious eyes and sat down next to James and started talking. Hermione wasn't quite paying attention until James gestured to her.

"And this is My Own," he said with a proud possessiveness. The boy looked over at her, his grey eyes gleaming with curiosity.

"My Own?" he echoed. She frowned at him.

"Only Jamie calls me that," she said coolly. James smirked at the boy. "You may call me Hermione."