Cheering up

"Leave her alone, Bella," Sirius said angrily, his wand out, his grey eyes dark and stormy.

"Is the blood traitor your whore?" Bellatrix sneered, sniffing disdainfully at Hermione, crumpled at Sirius' feet. "Is that why you've turned your back on everything you've been raised to believe in? She must be amazing, if she can do all that."

"Don't you dare talk about her that way," Sirius' voice vibrated with his rage.

"Oh, I dare, cousin," Bella cooed at him. "I dare."

"Go away, Bella," Sirius said again, his voice cold and deadly. Bella smiled at him, and it chilled Hermione.

"I'll go now," she said softly. "But you can't guard her every hour of the day, Sirius, and I'll be waiting."

Sirius watched her walk down the corridor and turn around the corner and then he was on his knees next to Hermione. He put his arms around her and helped her to her feet. He picked up her wand and handed it to her.

"Thank you," she whispered numbly. Sirius looked at her gravely, his fingertips touching her cheek delicately, she hissed in pain.

"You're hurt," he muttered, his eyes darkening with rage.

"I'll be fine," she said softly, staring up at him with wide hazel eyes. "It could have been much worse."

"Yes, it could have," he muttered, turning and looking down the corridor where his cousin had gone. His features grew cold and hard as he glared in the direction she'd gone. He turned back to Hermione and his features softened. "I'm glad you're okay."

"Me too," she whispered. He walked her to Madame Pomfrey and ran to grab James. They had an intense, private conversation, and she saw James almost shaking with rage at one point. He glanced several times at her, but Sirius' calm manner seemed to soothe him. Finally, he approached her.

"Sirius says that you are okay?" James asked uncertainly, staring at her bruised cheek. She nodded.

"I am, Jamie. He saved me." Hermione said firmly. James looked at Sirius gratefully and then turned back to Hermione.

"I'm glad he was there, then," James said quietly, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

After that, Hermione was more careful, more circumspect, in her travels through the castle. She practiced the disillusionment spell on herself until she was able to cast it perfectly and nonverbally. After that, her wanderings through the castle became much safer, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She knew that James and Sirius tried to keep an eye on her, but it was difficult for them to be there every moment of every day. That, and sometimes Hermione needed privacy.

HP/HG/HP

It was the game for the Quidditch Cup and Hermione was going to be there to support her twin, and Sirius. She remembered the incredible lion head that Luna had made, and she knew how it had been made because Old Hermione provided all the pertinent memories. She also, thanks to the pureblood knowledge, knew how to make all her nails alternating Gryffindor colors with a tiny lion on each nail that would roar occasionally. No one had seen the hat yet, she was saving it for the big game. The nails however had become incredibly popular, and all the Gryffindor girls had them.

"Miss Potter?" Professor McGonagall asked with a long suffering look on her face. Hermione sat up straight and tried to look innocent. She couldn't help the fact that all of her classes bored her to tears and she daydreamed through most of them.

"Yes, Professor?"

"While I admire your dedication to your house's team, could the lions be quiet during the class period?" Mrs. McGonagall asked icily.

"Oh! I forgot! I'm so sorry, Professor," Hermione squeaked. She took out her wand and flicked it. The lions…all the lions…were silent. The students looked at one another in surprise. McGonagall blinked.

"Was that…nonverbal, Miss Potter?" McGonagall looked at her sharply. Hermione's face went up in flames. She looked desperately at her brother, who looked impressed and surprised.

"Er…no, ma'am?" Hermione offered weakly. Professor McGonagall stared at her for a minute and then moved on.

Aside from one or two glances, the students seemed to believe her denial of nonverbal magic, which was laughable from a third year. Hermione was trying to avoid making too many ridiculous mistakes, but sometimes it was difficult. Old Hermione just knew too much, and that knowledge filtered through a great deal of the time. She found herself perpetually bored in all of her classes. The only time she felt she learned anything with during the summer with her parents, and Mrs. Longbottom who'd taken an interest in her education. The rest of class dragged on, and then it was time for the game. James and Sirius jumped up and ran out of the room so they could go change. Hermione walked back to Gryffindor Tower with Lily to get changed for the game.

"Hermione?" Lily asked her with big eyes.

"Yeah, Lils?"

"What on earth is that?"

"It's a Gryffindor lion head. For the quidditch match. It's the cup, Lils! I have to support James. He's my brother, after all." Hermione explained as she put it on. Lils stared at her, and then smiled.

"It's kind of cute, isn't it?" Lils said.

"Wait, watch this," Hermione replied. She waved her wand at herself. "Leo Animato!"

The lion head roared so loudly that the other students in the tower stared toward the dormitory. When Hermione came down with the giant lion head on, everyone started cheering. All the houses tended to have a lot of house pride, and Gryffindor was no exception. The students all loved her lion head, and thought that it was perfect for this most important Quidditch match. Hermione had appointed herself the head cheer leader or pep rally mistress or what-have-you for Gryffindor, and even the older students liked most of her ideas.

"Okay Gryffindors, gather 'round!" Hermione ordered. She handed out sheet music to everyone. Thanks, Slytherin! She thought with a wicked smile.

Potter is our King,

Potter is our King,

He didn't let the Quaffle in

Potter is our King.

Potter can save anything,

He never leaves a single ring,

That's why Gryffindors all sing:

Potter is our King.

"Hermione, I don't think I can sing this," Lily murmured while she tried to not laugh.

"House spirit, Lils! House spirit!" Hermione said staunchly.

"Wow, Hermione, James is going to love it." Remus said with an awed voice.

"Do you really think so?" Hermione asked him with a pleased smile. Remus smiled back at her.

"I know he will," he assured her in his quiet, gentle voice.

"How'd you think of it?" Peter asked. Hermione shrugged.

"A friend of mine made one once," Hermione said airily. She didn't like speaking to Peter, and avoided it whenever possible. She hadn't forgotten her promise to James, but it still really bothered her to be anywhere near Peter for any length of time. Remus frowned slightly at her, but she was too busy to notice.

Hermione and Lily sat next to Remus and Peter in the Gryffindor section, her lion head bellowing his roars at particular intervals. The Potters were there with Sirius' Uncle Alphard, who thought her lion head was the funniest thing he'd ever seen. He kept chuckling whenever he glanced in her direction. James sat on his broomstick staring at his sister for a minute. She waved enthusiastically at him, and at that moment, the lion head roared. Sirius flew closer to James, and started laughing.

"Only your sister, James!" He snickered. "Only Hermione!"

"I think it's brilliant!" James declared, defending his sister. Her cheeks were flushed with excitement and she was looking at him with devoted adoration. He grinned back at her and waved from his broom.

Later, Hermione would claim that Gryffindor's victory was due to her efforts, and James—being a smart boy—didn't argue with her. He also didn't ask her where she'd found all the food for their winning celebration. He did notice that Sirius stiffened slightly, and blushed when Hermione hugged him and kissed him on the cheek like she always did. He frowned slightly. What was up with Sirius? That thought quickly left his head when Lily moved within his range of vision and congratulated him with cool politeness.

Third year was over before Hermione knew it, and she started to worry. She was beginning to run out of time. How could she get the adults to believe in her? It might be one thing if she popped out of the sky and fell onto the quidditch pitch. If that happened, she would obviously be an outsider and a story about having knowledge of the future would make all sorts of sense. Instead, she was Hermione Potter, the pureblood daughter of an extremely old wizarding family. People who had known her since birth could attest to her identity. They would think she was insane and haul her skinny butt to St. Mungo's before she could say Honeyduke's. She sighed.

Sometimes, it sucked to be a kid.