a dance with destiny

xiii

Disclaimer: Sadly, I own nothing except the order these words are in, everything else belongs to JKR.

A/N: In canon, Sirius's birthday is on November 3rd, but I just realized that, and I don't want that to happen yet, so I'm changing his birthday! I don't know when it's going to be, though. I am planning on keeping the other character's birthdays the same, though. If I screw up other dates, I'm sorry lol, there's just a lot to remember and I'm a little too lazy to go look everything up. ALSO there are some spells that I can't find the incantation for, so I just google translat-ed what it did into Latin and used that lol

November 20, 1977

7th Year Gryffindor Girls Dorms – 8:30 am

3rd Person POV:

Hermione sat in front of her mirror, staring at her arm. Well, more specifically, the scars on her arm. M U D B L O O D. She had tried everything, but none of it had worked. The scar would never leave her. She had found – through the library (as usual) – that the scar would heal and eventually fade a little bit if it wasn't split open again. Each time it was re-opened, it would take longer to heal.

Of course, this was quite the problem, since every time she grabbed it – with only a small bit of force –, it split open again. After going through it a few times, she had decided to just start glamouring the scars instead of bandaging them. That way, she wasn't constantly reminded of it – other than, of course, the slight sharp pain that came from it whenever she was around some of the Slytherins. She figured that perhaps it was those who had already taken the Mark.

She slowly waved her wand in intricate patterns to set the glamour charms. However, the cursed scar was quite strong, and they would only last until the end of the day – if she was lucky.

Hermione had come to the firm decision to stay away from the Marauders and, well, all the other Gryffindors. She knew too much about them and couldn't risk getting close, lest she let something about the future slip. Yes, it'll work out in the end. Besides, there's less than a year before the school year ends, and then they'll all join the Order, and see that I'm not actually a Death Eater.

She tried to picture herself as a Death Eater, and almost giggled at the thought of having to wear those horrid masks. Hermione knew it was wrong, but she couldn't help the dry, sarcastic, humor that stemmed from those thoughts.

November 29, 1977

Outside the Kitchens – 7:30 pm

3rd Person POV:

It had worked. Well, partially, and only for a week and a half or so. Her avoidance of the other Gryffindors only made them more suspicious.

She had just climbed out of the kitchens after a small dinner and tripped coming out of the painting-door. Hurriedly, she stood up, brushed off her robes, and found herself standing, caught like a deer in the headlights, in front of Sirius and the other Marauders.

Sirius gave her a thin smile, "Hi Hermione."

"Er, hello?" She squeaked, wincing at her own voice before clearing her throat and trying again, "Hi, Sirius, Remus, James," Hermione nodded at each of them in turn and attempted to dodge around him.

"Wait, Hermione!" James called out, pausing when she turned around to look at him, "Er, what were you doing?"

"Eating dinner?"

"Y'know the Great Hall, well, it exists."

"Yes, James," she tried not to sigh, "I do know."

"Why were you eating in the kitchens, then?" Remus spoke up, albeit somewhat quietly.