Never All Together

Chapter 19: Every Step to Forevermore

I see myself within your eyes
And that's all I need to show me why
Everywhere we are
You and I were meant to be forever and ever.
Now I know my life has given me more than memories
Day by day, we can see
In every moment there's a reason to carry on.

--- Kenny Loggins (Whenever I Call You Friend) ---

The sun had barely risen, but already Hermione was awake the following Saturday morning, tucked comfortably under her blanket and thoughtfully playing with its fringes. She had opened her eyes that morning with a feeling that something was not quite right and then remembered having been in on the supposedly hilarious plan for James's birthday. She pressed her face into her pillow. Should she go on with it, or should she not?

James will be hurt if I let his birthday pass with no mention of it, especially now that he knows I know.

On the other hand, she had quite as good conspired with the other Marauders. It was too late to back out now. Besides, Hermione didn't think she would ever forget that flash of understanding between her and Sirius. He had not kept secret the fact that he disliked her with his best friend, but last night, for the briefest of moments, it was as though their minds had finally met and reached a compromise. She wasn't about to break that.

"That settles it then," she murmured. "I'll just have to play along." With that out of the way, her mind shifted gears as she wondered what she could get James for his birthday. What can she give the boy who has it all?

Maybe a robe. Or a bag of jokes. Or a Snitch. Or a broom polishing kit--do they have those already? She knew he would immensely enjoy such presents, but where in the name of Merlin would she get the money? She had no personal possessions except the quill he had bought her, and hell would freeze over before she sold that for a couple of Galleons.

Hermione laughed aloud as an unbidden comeback struck her. She had already given him her heart, her life. What more could he ask for?

Nothing, she answered herself. Except that he doesn't know, of course, and it would still be good if I give him something... Something that would show him I really love him.

She sat up and reached for the knob of the top drawer beside the bed, intending to take out one of the Hogwarts robes she had borrowed from the school cabinet so she could get dressed. It wasn't that she planned on wearing a uniform for the day; she meant to temporarily split and Transfigure it into a pair of jeans and a buttoned yellow shirt. Hermione held the robe up and critically inspected it, shaking the dust away. Satisfied, she drew her wand with her right hand and pushed the drawer closed with the left--but not before catching a glimpse of light glinting brightly off an object.

She went rigid in an instant, startled. Bubbles of hope and amazement erupted inside her. She had forgotten! Of all the things to forget, it had to be the Time-Turner! Hermione reopened the drawer, and her breath caught in her throat at the sight of the sparkling glass nestled on a chain of untarnished gold.

This is the answer. Her face broke into a smile. And it's a beautiful answer.

Bursting with energy, she hastily changed into her clothes, tucked her wand away and scooped the necklace from the wooden surface. Her eyes lingered on it for several seconds, noting its significant weight, which was indicative of the potion's activity. She carefully fastened it around her neck, rushed out the door and descended the stairs to the common room, which was thankfully empty. She slid the portrait door open and clambered out, walking as quickly as she could to the third floor of the castle.

Once she had reached the one-eyed hump, Hermione cautiously looked left, right and around her before slowly taking her wand out. "Dissendium!" she muttered urgently, tapping the statue. The passageway to Hogsmeade was revealed, and she climbed into it without hesitation, willing to endure an hour crawling through the darkness just to get to her destination--Dervish and Banges, a shop of a variety of magical objects.

She had business to accomplish.

* * * * * * *

Honeydukes was silent when she hoisted herself out of the trapdoor. No wonder, she thought to herself. It's just a little past seven. Hermione tiptoed up the stairs from the cellar. She glanced at the shelves of sweets surrounding her and caught sight of a stack of boxes of white rose-shaped chocolates, and a small smile of reminiscence crossed her lips.

She approached the door, easily unlocked it with her wand and stepped out into the morning sunshine. Majority of the stores were still closed, among them Dervish and Banges, so Hermione decided to have a walk around and check the items for sale displayed in their windows. At Quidditch Supplies, she saw that Nimbus had released yet a newer version of their broom--the Bullet. Hermione pressed her nose to the glass to peer more closely at its fine, gleaming wooden handle. Price on request. Figures. It might not even be worth the Time-Turner.

After having restlessly strolled around for almost an hour, Hermione traced her steps along High Street to Dervish and Banges just in time to see a small, stout witch with flyaway greyish-white hair change the CLOSED sign to OPEN.

"Good morning," Hermione greeted after swinging the door shut behind her.

The old woman jumped and gave a little yelp of surprise as she turned around, her glasses almost completely sliding down her nose. "You surprised me, my dear," she croaked, her voice probably sore from sleep. "What can I offer you?" She gestured towards a stack of sealed boxes to her right and said, "We had some new items shipped in just yesterday--Dark detectors, Sneakoscopes, magical protective amulets... They have quite a demand for them these days, don't they?"

Hermione didn't answer and merely stared warily at her.

"Dark times, dark times," the old witch muttered ominously, shaking her head as she reached for a rag and began wiping dust off the shelves. After several minutes of silence, the she turned around, her eyebrows jolting up when she realised the young girl was still there. "What did you say you want?"

Hermione blinked as though snapping out of a trance and sputtered, "Nothing. I didn't say anything yet."

The woman watched her intently as she gathered her thoughts.

"I wanted to sell you something," Hermione began haltingly, taking the hourglass out of her robes and removing it from around her neck. The shrunken eyes behind the glasses interestedly followed her movements as she held it up to the light, causing patterns of rainbow to dance around the store.

Staring transfixed at the object in Hermione's hands, the store owner's eyes widened in awe. "It couldn't be..."

"It is," Hermione responded softly. "It is a Time-Turner."

"But how--?" The croaky voice was now filled with mingled wonder and suspicion.

Hermione shrugged nonchalantly. "Madam, as long as this is real, does it matter where it came from?"

"Certainly," the old woman haughtily. "I wouldn't want the Ministry on me for participating in illegal trade."

"That won't be the case here," Hermione answered, offering the Time-Turner for the other witch to touch. "See for yourself, why don't you, Madam--"

"Allegria," she answered, gingerly receiving the necklace from Hermione. She tested its weight on her hand and held it up to her eyes for inspection. "It does seem quite real. Can I... Can I try it? Check if it works?"

Hermione raised one hand to stop her. "Only if you know and understand the consequences," she warned. "You see, unlike the ordinary Time-Turner, each turn of this hourglass sends you a year back in time. A year, not an hour. A year."

The old woman narrowed her eyes as though unsure whether or not to believe her. But she was a witch who specialised in charmed objects, and this necklace, Time-Turner or no, definitely emanated an aura of sophisticated magic. "You said you wanted to sell it?"

At Hermione's eager nod, Madam Allegria jerked her head briskly. "Very well. I'll take it. How much do you want for it?"

"Four hundred Galleons," Hermione responded at once.

"Two hundred."

"No way," Hermione said, shaking her head vehemently. "This is supposed to be your lore. Surely you are aware that the chain itself is pure gold?"

Madam Allegria scowled at her. "Do not tell me my business, little missy. Three hundred then."

"Three hundred fifty."

After a couple more minutes, they settled at three hundred and twenty Galleons. Hermione counted the money, politely thanked the old lady and was about to leave the shop when an idea occurred to her. She whirled and saw the store owner reverently stroking the hourglass that now hung around her neck, mindless of the fact that she was still inside.

"Madam?"

She gave a surprised jolt and looked sharply at her. "I thought we had already agreed on the price."

Hermione shook her head. "I was wondering if you sold watches? Those given to males in the Wizarding world who have come of age?" At the woman's blank look, she added, "With stars instead of hands?"

"Aha!" Madam Allegria dropped her hands from her collarbone and rushed to a glass display somewhere in the back of her store. Hermione followed her, careful to dodge tall stacks of boxes of different shapes and sizes. When the old witch turned to face her next, she was holding a velvet rectangular case in her hands.

"Like this?" she enquired, dramatically pulling the lid open. Lying in the soft recess inside was a watch with a silver bracelet, the twelve stars on its face twinkling realistically even as its hands lay dead.

Hermione managed a nod, stunned by its simple and yet elegant and masculine beauty. "But what is it for? Why has it become tradition for a boy to be given such a watch as a gift?"

Madam Allegria looked at her as though unable to believe her ignorance. Her expression cleared after a couple of seconds, however, and she cleared her throat before speaking. "It's a relic of the Wizarding world's patriarchal past, m'dear. A time when males were believed to purely shoulder the responsibility of making decisions. The stars symbolise the different celestial bodies. The hands of the clock point to them differently each time, depending on what the heavens foretell for its wearer."

"So the watch is supposed to guide the man in his decisions?" Hermione asked, intrigued.

"Yes," Madam Allegria replied. "But its power is activated only after a boy who has come of age wears it. After that, the watch will not attempt to predict the future for any other person." She fixed her gaze seriously on Hermione. "The boy, who now must live as a man, will be aided for as long as he has this on his wrist." She blinked, and her face became thoughtful. "Of course, hardly anybody knows the story behind this custom anymore. Fools, I daresay, to keep on buying things without being aware of their usage."

Hermione smiled lightly even as she assimilated all the information that had been given to her. Something to help him steer his path... This would make a wonderful gift for James. He had come of age the previous year, but she had never seen a watch on his wrist. "Perhaps so," she agreed as she motioned to take a closer look at the box. "How much is this particular watch?"

The price sticker on the item said two hundred and fifty Galleons, but Madam Allegria was so delighted with Hermione that she agreed to give it to her with a twenty percent discount. She continued conversing enthusiastically with her as she rang up the girl's purchase and, when she was done, escorted her to the door.

"Come visit again," Madam Allegria bid in farewell. She watched the young witch walk away until she had disappeared from her line of vision, her lips curved in a nostalgic smile until a startling thought struck her. She gripped the wooden frame of her doorway as she steadied herself at the memory and wistfully sighed.

"I forgot to tell her to tell him he shouldn't always trust fate."

* * * * * * *

James sullenly paced his dormitory for what was probably the hundredth time that hour, absentmindedly noticing that the soles of his feet were slowly becoming red. He was not in a good mood. Oh, no. He felt cranky, annoyed, and even close to angry.

And why shouldn't I be? he snapped at himself. I woke up this morning ready to forgive my so-called friends for last night and eat breakfast with them, only to find out that they have gone ahead and eaten without me!

To make matters worse, they refused point-blank to accompany him at the Great Hall, insisting that they had serious things to attend to in the common room. Serious things, my arse. He had returned to Gryffindor tower to find them deeply engaged in a game of Gobstones while drinking butterbeer.

"Hand me a bottle too, Moony," he had requested as he sat beside Sirius, concentrating on handling his temper. Remus had taken one from under the couch and handed it to James, but Sirius' arm had cut across, and he grabbed the bottle instead.

"Sorry, mate. This one's the last, and it has my name on it." Sirius uncorked it unceremoniously and drank half of it in one gulp.

James had the impulse to reach for an empty one on the table and smash it on what hypothetically was his best friend's head. Instead, he clenched his fists and roughly stood up, deciding to vent his resentment alone in his dormitory instead.

"What's wrong with them?" he growled, forcefully kicking his trunk and spilling some of his belongings. He threw himself on his bed and sighed, punching the air in rage.

Regina. The thought of her usually cheered him up, but not this time. Where was she? Why hadn't he seen her yet? Why wasn't she even looking for him? His frown darkened as he sat up once again and rummaged in his trunk for the map. His hazel eyes wasted no time in looking for her the instant he tapped it with his wand and muttered the necessary words. Regina Weisz. Regina Weisz. Her name echoed in his head as he methodically searched for that particular tiny bubble.

Why can't I find it anywhere? He toyed with the idea that she might not be on Hogwarts grounds. But then where would she be? Just as he started pondering the possibilities, his eyes flickered to the map's representation of the third floor.

It showed a tiny dot labelled Hermione Granger just climbing out of the tunnel normally concealed by the statue of the one-eyed witch.

Hermione Granger. The name was familiar, but it took awhile for him to remember that he last heard it from Peter. A new set of questions immediately flooded his mind. Who was this girl? Why had he never seen her around Hogwarts? And why did she know about the secret passageway to Hogsmeade?

She might be an intruder. With that in mind, James hastily jumped off his bed. He needed answers, and he wanted them fast. He tucked in the sheets, smoothed his clothes and prodded the map blank before bending over and tossing it in his trunk along with his other belongings on the floor. He practically leapt down the stairs--only to find Regina in casual conversation with the rest of the Marauders.

His heart jumped. All thoughts of Harmony--or whatever her name was--evaporated from his brain at the sight of Regina, her curly brown hair cascading gloriously down her back. He approached her form behind; she turned just before he placed his large hands on her eyes, and her expression visibly brightened in a huge, sweet smile.

"James."

Something's finally gone right today, James thought with relief. "Regina. Morning." He settled comfortably on the couch beside her, cupped her face and kissed her long and tender.

Remus and Peter cast looks of surprise on Sirius, who for the first time in living memory did not even attempt to get the couple to stop what they were doing. Sirius simply shrugged.

When James had finally broken away and Hermione had rested her head on his left shoulder, he said, "I've been looking for you all morning."

Hermione slightly raised her face to his and passed her index finger across the stubble on his chin. "I fancied a walk is all." She didn't dare look at how the other Marauders were reacting to this bold-faced lie, having told them only minutes previously that she had just come from Hogsmeade and bought James a gift.

"As long as you don't give it to him on his birthday," Sirius had commented, a little threateningly.

"What did you get him?" Peter had asked curiously. Before she could tell them all about the watch and its significance though, she had heard heavy footsteps behind her. She recognised them at once; James had arrived.

Hermione released a heavy sigh even as she reached for James's hand and entwined it with hers. Keeping a secret from the man she loved was difficult. At least it's only for a week, she consoled herself, closing her eyes and luxuriating in the feeling of James's nimble fingers caressing her scalp.

The irritable noise of something sharp scratching on glass made all of them glance at the window on their right. Peter at once reached out to part the curtains and uncovered a large white owl streaked with greenish-brown outside, wings fluttering to stay airborne.

"Hey, Prongs?" Remus said, recognising the animal. "It's your family's owl."

James silently extracted his arm from around Hermione's waist and the other hand from her hair. When she opened her eyes and looked at him questioningly, he planted a quick kiss on her forehead before standing.

"My parents sent an owl," he explained, approaching the window sill and pushing up the glass pane. The owl snuck under the open space, dropped the parchment into James's palm and affectionately nipped the nail on his thumb before taking flight once again.

James shut the window and quickly untied the ribbon around the parchment. His eyes scanned the entire length of the message.

My dear son,

Now that you've come of age, your father and I have decided to simply ask you what you want for your birthday. Anything you say will be fine. If you could also secure permission from Minerva and Albus to let you and your friends off for the next weekend, we'd be very delighted to prepare a simple celebration.

Send me your response as soon as you can. I hope you are well. Take care, and do remember that we love you!

Your old mum

He read through it again, uncertain of whether to laugh or to snort good-naturedly at the letter. Giving him the freedom to choose what he should get? That did sound like his mum. His old mum, he corrected to himself as he chuckled softly. He remembered how surprised he was to receive his Nimbus the previous year, when he had turned seventeen; he had expected the traditional watch. But then his parents more often than not went against the tide.

As he continued his perusal of the text, however, his annoyance began to mount. Friends, eh? Birthday celebration? His fellow Marauders refused to entertain even the very idea that the twenty-seventh of March was nothing more significant than a date on the calendar!

James folded the paper and tucked it into his pocket. His parents could wait--at least until he asked his friends one more time. His eyes strayed to Hermione, who was gazing expectantly at hm. He smiled at her like there was nothing wrong even as he decided he would try his luck with Peter first.

"Wormtail," he started, and his friend reacted with a tiny squeak. James determinedly ignored it and continued, "My mum wrote to ask me what I wanted for my birthday." He noted the way Peter's smallish eyes almost frantically shifted from Remus to Sirius and back again. "So what do you think?"

When neither Sirius nor Remus showed any signs of wanting to help Peter, the small boy mumbled, without even looking at him, "I don't know, Prongs. It's up to you." Hermione glared at him, and he shrank into the couch.

James bit down hard on the inside of his cheek as hot blood rushed to his head. "I guess another broomstick wouldn't be too bad, would it?"

They all surreptitiously exchanged glances. Hermione, cursing the others silently, smiled reassuringly at him. "A broomstick would be excellent, James."

His lips turned slightly upward at this show of approval, but his hazel irises reflected sadness. "Yeah. I guess I'll ask for a Nimbus Bullet." James turned his back on them, pulled the window down and returned to his place beside her.

As soon as he had sat down, Sirius asked the game board, "What do you want the new broom for? You just got the latest Nimbus last year."

Because it's the best, and I deserve only the best, James arrogantly answered inside his head. He pretended not to have heard Sirius, however, and they were all quick to realise that James wasn't warm to the topic anymore. Cold and heavy silence descended, and no one spoke until it was time for lunch. James hastily finished his meal and, with a chill in his voice, excused himself to owl his parents.

James never mentioned his coming birthday again for the rest of the week--not even once. He could not understand why his best friends were suddenly acting that way, and he had given up trying to fathom the possible reasons behind it. The rational side of him told him that they simply didn't care, but after spending almost seven years of his life with them, he found that hard to believe. In the deepest corners of his heart, he kept alive the hope that they did have something special for him, that a plan was in action and that they were simply making him think they otherwise.

March the twenty-seventh dawned along with James's high expectations for the day, even after having lost some sleep finishing that monster of an essay for Transfiguration. He slipped into his seat at breakfast, where all his three friends were already busy eating, and smiled encouragingly at them. In return, Peter munched more loudly on his toast, Remus hid his nose behind a book and Sirius swirled the ice in his glass with additional effort.

The bespectacled boy's smile faded, and he devoted his entire attention to his food instead... Until a loud screech from above interrupted the many different conversations in the Great Hall.

Gasps punctuated an enormous owl's swoop down the Gryffindor table, along with the long and thin package it was carrying; it dipped its beak into somebody's glass of juice before flapping its wings and leaving. The owl's arrival cheered James somewhat, and he immediately tore open the wrapper to reveal the gleaming new Bullet.

"Whoa," Neil said in awe, seated a few feet away from his Captain. "What's the occasion?"

James simply beamed at him and at everyone else around him before loosely enclosing his broomstick in its original wrappings and propping it beside him. He didn't bother reading the card, already knowing it was from his parents. He glanced at his friends, and he could have sworn he saw Remus shift guiltily in his seat and a shadow of worry cross Peter's features. He smirked in satisfaction.

Sirius finally stopped playing with the ice cubes and looked at him squarely. "Why would anybody send you a broom?"

James crossed his arms in front of his chest and glared at Sirius. Two can play his game. "It's not just anybody. My parents sent it, and it's for the next match against Slytherin," he gritted out.

"Pretty early to be worrying about that, don't you think?" Sirius countered, unruffled. So he was finally getting to his best friend. "After all, the match is more than a month away."

"It's just so we can practice," James answered shortly and with finality. He was about to add how a broomstick would probably be a better friend than the idiot Sirius Black was when a pair of slender arms wrapped themselves around him, and then his nostrils were infused with that intoxicating scent of vanilla he had come to know so well. It pacified him with ease.

"Good morning!" Hermione chirped happily as she pecked James briefly on the cheek. She slid one of her hands slowly down his broad back as she sat down, leaning towards him and capturing his lips this time in more passionate kiss. James appeared to be somewhat surprised by her open show of affection, but she just smiled.

"It's a beautiful day, isn't it?" She embraced him to her more tightly. "Why don't we go for a walk after breakfast?"

James's heart lightened even as it overflowed with warmth and happiness, and he smiled his assent. At the same time, he couldn't help but wonder if she had something planned for him. He certainly didn't expect her to, not after what his best friends did.

"Don't we have class at nine?" Peter asked, confused. His eyes strayed to the large clock that read only ten minutes to the hour.

Sirius nodded emphatically. "Just in case you're thinking today's a holiday or something as special."

James clenched his fists under the table, but Hermione replied evenly, "In the afternoon then, when it's free." She reached out and brushed his messy hair out of his face along with the disappointment clouding his mind. "I love you so much, James."

That made him grin stupidly. He decided that hearing her tell him she loved him was far better than birthday greetings and that he'd take the former any day.

The rest of his birthday went on well enough. A few of the younger Gryffindors, most whom were very taken with James, sent him birthday wishes and a few tiny trinkets. After a hurried lunch, they went for that walk, stopping to rest every now and then to pay more attention to each other than to the scenery. Just after an hour or so of strolling, however, they decided to spend the rest of the lazy afternoon under their beech tree and on a makeshift blanket, where Hermione showed James just how much she really loved him and allowed him to reciprocate in turn.

But despite the fact that the girl he loved more than made up for his friends' absence, James could not help but wish his fellow Marauders--his best friends--were also celebrating this very special day with him. Some of his dejection must have shown on his face, for she immediately tried to soothe the pain with a gentle touch of her hand.

"It's fine," he whispered, lifting her hand to his lips and then putting it aside, trailing kisses along her jawline. She shivered in response.

"Cold?" James teased, now nuzzling her neck and slowly making his way to her earlobe.

"Hardly," Hermione murmured, feeling electric jolts of excitement stream through her nerves at his touch. "In fact, I'm warm all over." His nearness was doing strange things to her and she wanted to affect him in the same way, so she lifted her hands, deftly slipped them under his shirt and tentatively explored the bare skin underneath.

James drew in a sharp breath as he slightly rose and supported himself on his elbows, his eyes darkening with desire. She held his intensely romantic gaze until he began to lean towards her; she closed her eyes in anticipation of another gentle yet all-consuming kiss and got it. Hermione's hands moved more feverishly, and he groaned his approval against her mouth.

Still the same passionate man I remember, this... His feet locked in on the soles of her own, and this thought trailed off.

Dusk saw them in a cosy tangle of limbs, talking and laughing and enjoying the still smouldering embers of the idyllic afternoon they had spent in each other's embrace. It was already dinner by the time they returned to the Great Hall; James did not remove his arm around her waist and Hermione kept her hand on his knee until he had to leave for his rounds.

What a birthday it has been! James thought, whistling a happy tune as he walked the corridors alongside Lily that night. Memories of their moments under the tree filled his mind; if that was Regina's birthday gift to him, then Merlin, was it wonderful. He couldn't wait to return to the common room, where she was hopefully still awake. He recalled the touch of her hand and the magic it had evoked in him, stirring strong emotions of mingled embarrassment and curiosity. What would it be like to really be intimate with her?

Beautiful, without doubt. The answer came to him instantly, but he at once chastised himself for allowing his hormones to run wild. You're running ahead of yourself, a voice inside him warned. You can't have her that way until you marry her.

Marriage? he asked the voice doubtfully. But even as he questioned the idea for its abruptness, his head painted a picture of Regina in an embroidered white dress and him in an expensive suit, and he smiled. The image was soon after replaced by him Apparating on a porch and her throwing the door open and welcoming him home from work.

So you can imagine life with her, the voice remarked, almost tauntingly.

James shook his head. A lifetime, he corrected. And it would be a good, long life. He hummed to himself more loudly, earning a reproving glower from the redhead with him.

"Cease that stupid singing, Potter, or you'll have to put yourself in detention," Lily hissed just as they were climbing the stairs back to Gryffindor tower. "And you're not even hitting the right notes," she muttered as an afterthought.

He grinned at her. "Who told you I wasn't composing my own music?" he asked impishly. To annoy her even more, he raised his voice a notch and messed up the melody.

"Mr. Potter, if you could please turn that down," Professor McGonagall ordered sharply as both students turned round a corner. "You'll wake up the entire castle."

Lily jerked her head superciliously at this and walked to the portrait alone, disappearing behind it a few seconds later.

"Sorry, Professor," James said, not sounding apologetic at all. He started to walk past his Head of House, but she stopped him firmly by the shoulder. He glanced up in question.

"Another package for you has just arrived," the Transfiguration teacher informed him. "It seems like your parents have forgotten to send your birthday cake and remembered it only tonight."

James frowned. "You opened my package?"

Professor McGonagall's eyebrows knitted sternly. "Purely for security purposes. It is our duty to check parcels sent under suspicious circumstances." Hogwarts' Head Boy looked slightly abashed, and she added more gently, "It's in the kitchen. Happy birthday, James."

"Thanks, Professor," James answered before bracing for a sprint down the stairs.

The school's Deputy Headmistress pursed her thin lips in disapproval and followed James. "You're not supposed to be wandering after hours, Potter," she chided, reverting to what she usually called him. "You can get it tomorrow morning."

James slowly turned to face her again, his smile playful. "But then it won't be my birthday anymore. Or do you mean I can't have my cake and eat it too?" He winked disarmingly at Professor McGonagall and added, "Don't worry about me, Professor. I'll be safe. I'm Head Boy." Without seeing the old woman's faint smile at his cheeky words, James continued to the kitchen, where he was received with a chorus of "Happy birthday!" Tinky handed him the cake, and another house-elf brought a tray with a pitcher of tea, a few cups and saucers stacked on top of each other and some forks.

"Tinky knows you'd be coming, sir," Tinky explained as he struggled with the tray, "so Tinky prepared that for sir's friends."

James accepted both with many thanks and sped back up to Gryffindor tower. The common room was nearly deserted except for a couple of groups of fifth-years by the fire, studiously poring over their books. It puzzled him. How come no one's up when tomorrow's a Saturday? He set the cake and the tray on a table near a long couch and climbed the stairs to his dormitory.

The drapes of all the other Marauders were pulled, suggesting that all of them were sound asleep.

As he cautiously approached Sirius' curtains, James heard a sudden frantic rustling and the squeaking of a mattress on springs. When he finally peered through a small gap, he saw Sirius sprawled on the bed, eyes squeezed tightly shut and snoring a little too loudly for it to be real.

A grin split James's face into two; he both wanted to laugh and punch Sirius in his face. But why does he have to pretend? Could he really have forgotten his birthday and was trying to mask his guilt, or was there something else going on? He sighed. This growing rift between him and the Marauders was driving him crazy.

"Padfoot?" No response.

"Pads?" Still nothing.

"Paddie-pers!" James resorted to calling him by one of the most hated distortions of his nickname; Sirius had complained that it made him look like an overgrown baby. Not that it wasn't close to the truth, of course, considering his immaturity. But Sirius still didn't show any sign of wanting to give up his act, so James forcefully closed the curtains. Just as he did, he heard the unmistakable sound of someone shifting in bed and maybe even a familiar snort.

James shook his head in resignation and descended the stairs to the common room. He walked over to a company of fifth-years, snatched a piece of paper and a quill on their table without warning and started writing. A blond girl stared hard and warily at him during the entire time.

"There," he said with a flourish after some moments, dropping the quill on the table and folding the note. He thrust it into the blond girl's hands. "Go up to your dormitory and give it to Regina."

"Er--excuse me?" she said irritably. "I'm busy studying for my O.W.L.s. Stop barging in on other people and ordering them around."

Obviously not accustomed to being denied like this, James was about to threaten her with one week's worth of detention when a quiet voice next to the blond said, "Never mind. I'll take it." James's eyes flitted to her and lit with recognition.

"Nicole," he greeted, turning on his charm. Her friend mimed vomiting into her book. "Thank you--"

"Don't mention it," the raven-haired female returned with a soft smile, getting to her feet. How many times had she agreed to deliver his little notes to Lily back then? "For Regina, correct?" she asked, wanting to make sure.

James nodded, the name making him smile. "You won't have trouble finding her. You just can't miss the most beautiful girl at Hogwarts."

Nicole had heard it all before and so merely smiled politely.

"By the way, you just earned ten points for Gryffindor," James called to her retreating back.

* * * * * * *

The girl James had called the most beautiful was comfortably lying in bed on her stomach, accomplishing the finishing touches on a miniature doll she had carefully sculpted using magic. What was before a flat sheet of paper was now a stunning replica of James Potter, complete with a broomstick in his hand. His rugged face was painted with his trademark smirk, but his hazel eyes reflected the usual tenderness Hermione saw in them. She pointed her wand at his hair and mussed it around even more, knowing how he loved to do so himself, slipped on the doll's glasses and smoothened his Hogwarts robes.

He is perfect, Hermione thought dreamily. With a gentle caress of the doll's cheek using her thumb, however, the doll immediately transformed back into paper, plain and dull. Hermione used her wand once more to write the words she knew would never faint.

"James said this was for you," a lilting voice suddenly spoke from somewhere above her head. Hermione glanced up and saw a fellow Gryffindor holding out a note for her to get.

"For the most beautiful girl at Hogwarts," Nicole added with a smile.

Hermione's cheeks flushed. "He said that?"

"Yes, he did. Always the charmer, isn't he?" Nicole responded knowingly. Hermione laughed and took the folded parchment, sitting up as she thanked her. She waited until the other girl was out of the room before opening it.

The first word shot thrills down her spine.

Love,

Could you join me for some birthday cake and tea?

Hermione's face brightened in an ethereal smile, letting the gaiety of the situation wash over her. Could she? Did James really think he had to ask her? The words he'd written repeated themselves in her head. Love. Her smile widened. Love.

Wasting no more time, Hermione jumped up from bed, tossed her wand and the doll into her pocket and rushed out the door to the stairs, where she stopped in her tracks.

Like her very own prince waiting to take her away on his proud steed, James was standing at the bottom rung, his arm resting on the banister and his face turned hopefully upward. When their eyes connected, Hermione watched in fascination as his lips curved in a mysterious yet obviously delighted smile. It told her that he never doubted she would want his company.

Hermione took a couple of steps down the stairs and saw James's brows furrow and his eyes take on an intent, almost entranced, glaze. Is something wrong? Unsure, she descended more slowly until she was only one stair step higher than him. He hadn't moved the entire time, she realised.

"James--"

He suddenly twined both arms around her knees and lifted her high up into the air, causing her to shriek in protest. "James!" Hermione's hands flailed wildly in the air before finding his shoulders, and she grasped them for balance. His eyes remained glued to hers, although his expression had changed from something grave to that of amazement. Holding her like that, he spun once in a circle before slowly lowering her just enough so he could wrap one arm around her waist before allowing the other to let go of her legs.

"Merlin, Regina," James said, his voice tinged with wonder. "You look incredible."

Hermione dipped her head to look at herself and registered with embarrassment that she was still in her nightgown. It had sleeves and reached mid-thigh so that it was considerably decent, but it was still flimsy. She slid down a couple of inches against him. "I think I'll go--" James silenced her with a kiss, his head angled perfectly for the contact. It went on and on until he had helped her get her feet back on the ground.

"Were you asleep?" he asked, fingering the satin at her hips.

"Nuh--uh," she mumbled, her hands moving to the back of his neck. "I was busy with something when you rudely interrupted me with a hastily scrawled note."

James grinned. "Mum and Dad just sent my birthday cake. Thought you'd like to have some." He pulled her closer. "Can you stand on your own, or would you rather I whisk you off in my arms?"

"The second, please." James's kisses always left her rather weak and boneless.

He laughed and complied by crooking his arm around the back of her knees and carried her to the couch near the table where he had left the cake, setting her down and taking his place beside her. He busied himself with taking two forks and saucers from the tray.

"James?"

He immediately stopped whatever he was doing to give her his full attention. "Yes, love?"

"You're not mad?" Hermione asked tentatively.

"At whom?"

"At... us," she answered, fidgety. "We, well..." Hermione coloured and finished lamely, "You know."

James broke into another grin. He did know. "Quite disappointed, perhaps. But then again, not really." He put the saucers down and laid his hand instead on her knee. "I know my friends, Regina. They will come through. They always do."

Hermione bit her lower lip. That was just like him, so very trusting. James would back his friends up if they said the sky was green. "But they did not today."

"True, but they will," James assured her. "They might tomorrow, or they might next year. But they will." His other hand dropped the forks, and he used it to tilt her chin up to him. "As for you, hearing you say you love me is gift enough for all my remaining birthdays." And as though to finalise matters and rest all her worries, he kissed her.

Glowing, Hermione enclosed him in a warm embrace. "Then let me say it again. I do love you, James. I feel so... so blessed to be with you."

Tender lips touched her forehead. "It's the same for me. I feel so happy; it's like there's this fire inside me that no one can put out. It's like nothing can ever go wrong with you beside me."

There was silence for some time, both of them absorbing what had just been said. "Do you realise," Hermione said quietly, the idea just barely dawning on her, "that tomorrow would be one month since the first time you told me you love me?"

"Now that you mention it," James responded in a low voice, almost apologetically. "The date slipped my mind. I guess love has a way of losing sense of all time."

Isn't that the truth. Hermione removed his glasses and stared deeply into his eyes. "I wouldn't mind you forgetting to keep track of the dates as long as you remember you love me."

"Deal," James agreed huskily, planting a chaste kiss on her nose. Hermione laughed breathlessly and squirmed against him, trying to extricate from her pocket the doll she had brought.

"I actually have something for you, James." Hermione pulled it out and showed it to him. "Here," she said. "In memory of that time in Transfiguration."

James reached out and held her hand even as it grasped the doll, turning it this way and that. A couple more seconds passed before he recalled what she was talking about. The time when they weren't together yet seemed like a lifetime ago; he almost couldn't remember being without her. "I didn't fancy Snivellus could make a romantic inspiration," he teased, "but thank you." He pretended to survey the doll more closely and added jokingly, "Even without my glasses, I can say that he's rather handsome, isn't he?"

Hermione laughed again and swatted him on his arm. "Touch his cheek, James. Or rather, touch your cheek," she amended. She guided his thumb to his miniature's version face and passed it over one side of its face, and it reverted once more to paper.

"Ingenious," James remarked, turning to her momentarily and kissing her lightly. "I always knew you were smart of course, since you chose to be with me."

"Stop being an arrogant prat, James, and read what I wrote first," Hermione insisted, giggling uncontrollably now as she replaced his glasses. She moved the arm that remained around his torso and wriggled her fingers. "Or I'll tickle you to death."

James laughed at this threat and focused on reading the letters written in a graceful script.

Happy birthday to the most handsome--

"Like I said," he remarked, grinning slyly at her. "The little fellow is devastatingly good-looking."

Hermione drummed her fingers on a softer spot on his waist in the beginnings of a tickle, and he twitched a little and chuckled in response. "Okay, okay. I get the hint."

Happy birthday to the most handsome and most intelligent guy Hogwarts has ever seen--or will ever do! I keep thanking my lucky stars every night for having you in my life. Know that whatever happens, I love you. I love you, James. I love you, I love you!

All my heart, Regina

The playful look on James's face had given way to seriousness as he read the last few words. With his eyes taking on a new fire, he turned to her. Her expression had changed too, and he could feel her tense. She also looked somewhat apprehensive, as though she had just put everything she had on the line. In a way, James thought, she did.

"I love you too, Regina. With all my life."

Hermione went almost limp with relief in his arms, and to reaffirm what he had just said, he kissed her. Tentatively at first, and then more confidently as it deepened. James marvelled at how kissing her was just as exciting and as passionate as the first time, if not even more. It was as though there was always something new and wonderful to discover about being with her, and he loved her all the more for it. He adjusted himself so he could lay her on her back--slowly, languorously--and pressed her down on the couch, all thoughts of the cake forgotten.

They snogged blissfully for another half an hour or so, James taking care to explore each crevice of her mouth as her hands tried to familiarise themselves with his body. Dimly, James was aware of the fifth years leaving them in a huff, but then he felt her hands explore his back in sensuous circles as she coaxed him nearer, and he didn't care about them. He didn't care about anyone or anything else. His lips left hers only to blaze a path down her neck and even lower. The heat of his body merged with hers seemed to dissolve the thin material of her dress, and Hermione was a bundle of nerves everywhere he touched.

"So pliant," James murmured huskily, his right hand fiddling with the lacy hem of her nightgown and his left clasped with hers, dangling from the couch. He traced with the tip of his tongue the skin on her chest bordered by her shirt's neckline, and she gave a little gasp, dizzied with pleasure. She didn't want him to stop, but she wasn't sure she could control what might come next. Hermione squeezed his hand, and he lifted his head to meet her eyes.

"I'm hungry," she said, smiling lovingly at him and yet dissipating some of the moment's passion. "You told me I could have some cake."

"And so you could," James agreed, outlining her curves with his palm. "All this activity's making me hungry as well. But right now, I only have an appetite for you."

Hermione laughed. If anybody else had said that to her, it would have sounded so lame. But James, with his smouldering eyes and wickedly sexy smile, pulled it off. He sampled that delicate portion where her neck and ear met, tantalising her, and she felt the heat rise once more.

"Hmmm. Sweet. Just like I expected." He swung his leg to the floor and help her sit up along with him.

Her cheeks were flushed, but she managed to speak. "Like cake, you mean?"

James pulled her to him so that she was leaning against his body once again. "Like honey and chocolate and all the good things." With one hand, he pried open the lid off the cake's box and found, to his embarrassment, seventeen candles, all of which instantly lit up. Amidst the fluffy swirls of chocolate frosting topped with marshmallows were written, in white icing: Happy birthday, son! Know that you make us proud everyday. Love, Mum and Dad.

"Really, I'm too old for this," he complained laughingly, and Hermione giggled as well. "My parents..."

"Love you very much," Hermione finished. "Come on, blow the candles. I want my cake now."

"I thought this was my cake?" James ribbed. She raised one intimidating brow, and he tweaked her nose. "But of course, what's mine is yours." He opened his mouth and exaggerated taking in enough air to bloat his cheeks, but Hermione caught his arm just before he expelled it.

"Be sure to make a wish first."

James shrugged as he deflated his face. "Birthday wishes are for gullible children. They don't really come true."

"Who says they don't?" Hermione challenged. "Magic greater and deeper than we know works in mysterious ways."

That was true. She had a point, as usual. He sighed, closed her eyes and inhaled more seriously this time even as his brain turned wheels. What did he want? He had this wonderful woman, the one he loved, beside him, and so he had everything. What else could he possibly wish for?

For things to forever stay the same. For her to stay with me, always. James smiled and opened his eyes, extinguishing all seventeen tiny flames in one breath.

"What did you wish for?" Hermione enquired curiously, snuggling closer to him.

"If I tell you, then it might not come true," James reasoned. "I'm supposed to keep it a secret."

Hermione chuckled. "I thought you don't believe in birthday wishes."

He shook his head vehemently. "There's no way I'm going to take my chances with this one."

She fell silent, knowing in that instant what he had asked for. She briefly closed her eyes and uttered a silent prayer for it to come true.

James sliced a small piece of cake, pierced it with a fork and held it up to her mouth. "Besides, with you right here, I'm perfectly content. I couldn't ask for anything more."

Hermione smiled and kissed him, overwhelmed with love and happiness, before biting into the moist, sumptuous chocolate. It was the best she had ever tasted, and she savoured every bit of it.

* * * * * * *

Sirius traipsed down the stairs to the common room early Saturday morning, grumbling and almost tripping on his feet. He despised getting out of bed without his leisure, but Remus and Peter had both been insistent in saying they had to sneak into Hogsmeade to buy what they needed for tonight's party.

He stopped at the sight that greeted him, wondering if he was still caught up in some nightmare, causing Peter to walk straight into him from behind.

"Ow!" Peter exclaimed, rubbing his shoulder and grimacing. Remus shushed him immediately, his blue eyes also riveted by the same scene that had caught Sirius' attention.

Sleeping on a long couch with fingers intertwined were James and Hermione. His jaw rested atop her head, and her arm was wrapped securely, almost possessively, around his upper body. Together, the two painted a picture of love and intimacy and rightful belonging.

"Wow," Peter breathed this time. "They look good together. It really must be love."

Sirius remained rooted to the spot, her sincere words reverberating in his head.

I would never do anything to hurt him.

"I guess she couldn't refuse James, could she?" Remus opined softly, smiling faintly.

There was a pause before Sirius spoke gruffly, "That's enough, Moony. Wormtail. We've got lots to do." He marched to the portrait hole and climbed out, but his mind's eye was still on the peaceful look he had seen on his best friend's face. Even asleep, James's face was alight with joy.

* * * * * * *

"Just a little higher," Remus instructed a fourth-year as he attempted to hang a large red banner with the golden letters HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JAMES! emblazoned on it. "Move it to the right... No, you overdid it. There. Perfect." He glanced at Hermione, who was standing a few feet away from him. "What do you think?"

"It's good," Hermione remarked. She looked around her one more time, taking in the entirety of her surroundings. The curtains had been adorned with balloons that were making popping sounds every now and then, and the tables in the common room were overflowing with bottles of butterbeer, Honeydukes sweets and food nicked from the school kitchen.

"A small party?" Hermione had exclaimed in disbelief after climbing into the portrait hole and seeing the preparations around her.

Remus chuckled. "Sirius changed his mind," he had told her. "Thought it would be best to have a grand party. I figured he felt guilty about ignoring James's birthday on purpose."

The Marauders had indeed gone all out with Sirius shouldering the expenses. On one table alone were five cakes, all baked spelling out James's name. Fast-paced music was now blaring from some invisible sound system, and the Gryffindors were either dancing, drinking or eating or a combination of all three thereof.

A high-pitched shriek from a large painting of a sinking ship abruptly interrupted the commotion. The Fat Lady had momentarily left her portrait at the entrance to the Gryffindor common room to warn the students inside about James's arrival.

"He's coming! He's coming!" she shouted excitedly before jumping off to a small rescue boat. She missed it by some feet, however, and ended up in the ocean. Horrified, everyone screamed for help, and the rescue boat rowed faster to get to her until one man assisted her on board. The boat slowly travelled out of sight, presumably to return the Fat Lady to where she belonged.

Sirius clapped his hands loudly for attention. "Okay, everyone. This was what we all had talked about. Quiet!" He glared at them with such ferocity that one could either cower or giggle at him, but it still had the desired effect. The room quieted down, and only half a minute later, they heard James's voice ask, "Fancied a swim?"

The Fat Lady sniffed audibly but replied in a dignified voice, "Password?"

"Mandragora," a female voice answered this time.

"Wrong."

"Wrong?" The whole common room could almost see Lily whirling to face James in irritation. "Did you change the password again, Potter?" There was a pause, after which Lily raised her voice a notch. "Didn't we agree that it was my turn to choose the password for the week?"

"Well, you choose the most boring passwords," they heard James explain glibly. "Besides, the Fat Lady liked mine more."

"Go on," Lily dared him. "What is it then?"

"James Potter," James confidently said. At once, the portrait swung open to admit them. Lily gave a little scream of frustration, pushed James out of the way and clambered in first, followed by the protesting Head Boy.

"Hey, she agreed--" His words were cut off by a jet of confetti shot straight at him. "Ugh--what was that?"

"Oops, I must have rotated the nozzle," a small brown-haired boy said sheepishly. He corrected this and pulled the trigger of the confetti gun once more, causing more squiggly shapes in different colours to erupt in a shower just as everybody present shouted the words together.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

James's expression of surprise was classic; his jaw dropped by a couple of inches and his glasses almost slid down his nose. He adjusted them, his face scrunched up as though unable to believe what was happening and his eyes roving around the room in search of his friends even as everybody started singing a birthday song. Sirius stepped forward, wrapped him in a brotherly embrace and clapped him on the back.

"Happy birthday, mate."

"You idiot!" James uttered a booming laugh as he returned the embrace.

"You thought we'd really forgotten, didn't you?" Sirius asked as Remus and Peter joined them, arms around each other's shoulders.

James shook his head. "Nah. I never doubted you remembered." He laughed at Sirius' sceptical look. "No, really Padfoot. I knew you'd come through. It was only a matter of time when." He hugged the other Marauders and thanked them. Several Gryffindors approached James afterwards to wish him well before helping themselves to the food and drinks laid out on the tables. Somewhere in the midst of chaos, Lily had sneaked out of the common room to her dormitory, having had no desire to partake in the celebrations.

When James was finally free of his well-wishers, he found Hermione standing in a corner and smiling mysteriously at him. He approached her, grinning himself. "You knew all the time, didn't you? That was why you didn't greet me yesterday?"

"I did greet you," Hermione answered. "It was on that letter I wrote you. I was under orders not to say it, so I wrote it instead."

James laughed, pulling her close to him. "Brilliant, as always. But never mind. It was worth the wait." He kissed her temple and said, "I'm surprised Sirius didn't bite your head off for spending yesterday with me."

"You would have mine first even before I attempt it, Prongs," Sirius commented, overhearing what the other black-haired boy said. Hermione laughed at this, and as she met his ice-grey eyes, another look of understanding passed between them.

The couple was handed a drink by Peter, who had come to stand beside them. Sirius took his wand out and cast the Sonorus charm on himself. "Gryffindors," he called authoritatively. He raised his bottle of butterbeer and motioned for those who had one to do the same. "I propose a toast to the birthday boy, my best friend, James Potter. May he have long life, good health and love." At the last word, his glance strayed to Hermione, who merely smiled. "To James Potter."

"To James Potter," everyone else echoed before draining their drinks.

After an hour or so of merrymaking, majority of the students decided to head back to their own dormitories. Soon it were only the Marauders and Hermione left in the common room to tidy up.

"Well, looks like it's just us again, the way it started," Sirius said as he made all the empty bottles of butterbeer disappear with one wave of his wand.

Remus blinked in surprise. "Where did they all go?"

"To the kitchens, you dummy."

When the common room was clean enough for it to be recognisable, Sirius, Peter and Remus took a break from cleaning and used the opportunity to thrust their gifts into James's hands. Without delay, he tore open the glossy wrappings of each package. Remus had, predictably, given him a book.

Sirius rolled his eyes as James turned Quidditch though the Ages over in his hands. "I told Remus not to buy that. Said you wouldn't waste one second reading it."

It was true that he preferred playing the sport than reading about it, but after the feelings of worry and dejection that he had endured over the past few days, James thought the book was the most interesting he had ever seen. "This is terrific, Moony. What better way place to look for strategies other than the past?"

Peter had gotten him socks of red and gold, which James appreciated very much knowing that his friend had never had enough money on him. He opened Sirius' gift to find a box that seemed to contain something that made funny noises. He held it up to his ear. "What is it?"

"Why don't you open it and see?" Sirius returned with a challenging smile.

The birthday boy raised his brows but pulled open the lid. Free of its confinement, the golden ball quickly flapped its wings and soared out. With inordinately quick reflexes, James closed his hand upon the Snitch as it hovered two feet above his head. Peter clapped his hands with delight.

"Why of all things did you get me a Snitch?" James asked his best friend, still grasping the struggling ball in his hand.

To everyone's surprise, Sirius stepped forward and embraced him one more time. "So you wouldn't nick one anymore," he answered merrily. He glanced at Hermione, who was watching the scene with distant affection. "Now, don't you have something for him?"

"Something else?" James asked expectantly as he returned the Snitch inside its box. "Aside from last night?"

Hermione blushed. The way he said it made it sound as though it was something very private between them. She reached into her pocket for the gift and handed it to him. "Here," she said, brushing his lips with a soft kiss. "Happy birthday."

His hazel eyes locked in on hers as they silently communicated their love for each other while he slowly stripped off the wrapper to reveal the velvet box. "Not another Snitch, I hope?" he joked. He flipped the top open and saw a watch inside, the very thing his parents opted against giving him. He took it out, admiring the way it reflected light, and turned to Hermione. He wanted to ask her how she had gotten the money to buy one for him but resolved that for the meantime, it didn't matter.

"Let me put it on you," Hermione suggested, taking another step so that she was by his side. She encircled his wrist with the watch's bracelet and locked the latch closed. "It's supposed to be a coming-of-age gift, something to guide you in your decisions in life. I know you turned eighteen this year, but I've never seen you with a watch on your wrist, so I thought..."

This time, he kissed her. "Thank you, love. It's beautiful." James felt like his heart would burst from being with the most important people in his life. "I want to propose another toast," he said, the other Marauders forming a circle with him and Hermione. "To brotherhood, friendship and loyalty. To always coming through for one another."

Hermione instinctively turned to look at Peter, who was staring at James with so much adoration that it broke her heart. It must happen. It must.

"To the Marauders."

* * * * * * *

March slid to a close with the announcement that their N.E.W.T.s would take place on the third week of May.

"That's only one week after the Quidditch final!" James exclaimed beside Hermione over dinner.

"Oh, come on, Prongs. You don't need to study any more than I do," Sirius said, helping himself to another serving.

Remus shifted in his seat and turned towards him with a expression of surprise and stern reproach. "You mean you haven't started studying?"

Sirius shrugged. "I don't need to, Moony, because I already know it all."

"Well, if you really want to study, you can start now and call Quidditch practices every now and then," Hermione suggested mildly.

James smiled. "That was just what I was thinking," he said. "We really are of one mind."

Hermione's smile radiated love and bliss. She rested her cheek on his shoulder; he spooned some of his pudding and held it to her mouth, which she daintily accepted. Her face glowed with contentment, and she encircled his large frame with her arm. "I love you, James," she whispered into his ear.

Sirius saw James undeniably light up from within at those words.

"I love you too, Regina," he returned, feeling that familiar rush of exhilaration. He caught Sirius' eyes and grinned.

He tugged at the ends of his long black hair and managed a weak smile as he continued to watch them. James had been correct when he said that Regina made him happy. There was no denying it--his best friend and Regina truly were in love with each other. No, he did not concede to this fact only because they kept on kissing and touching and holding hands everywhere. Those were the sort of things even people who were not in love with each other did anyway, based on his personal experience. Pure, romantic love, from what Sirius had seen from James's parents, seemed to be more properly characterised by something untouchable, something more sublime. James and Regina seemed to care so deeply for each other, like they were swathed in something warm, soft. Something secure.

"Are you all right?" Remus asked from his left. "You seem quiet tonight."

Sirius shrugged himself out of his reverie. You're beginning to act bloody lovesick, he warned himself. Forget James and just focus on your dinner. He bit into his chicken and replied, "Something just had me thinking. But I'm fine." The tangy goodness of the meat made him forget all about his previous ruminations, and he reached for a third piece.

* * * * * * *

"Oh, bugger," James muttered to himself as the staircases changed unexpectedly, delaying his return to Gryffindor tower after his rounds. He had, as usual, passed by the kitchens on his way back to get the two cups of chocolate Tinky had prepared for him. He had a feeling the house-elf was disappointed on all those nights he had neglected stopping by and decided to do so tonight, much to her delight.

When the stairs had stopped and anchored itself to solid ground, he stepped from the last rung and walked along the corridor, unconcerned by the its unfamiliarity. There must be a way out of here somewhere. He continued on this path, tray in his hands, until he reached a vast silver door at the end of the hallway.

"A dead end," he sighed. Or maybe not. He tried to picture the map in his head but could not locate where he was, nor could he recall ever being in this place in the castle at all. He scrutinised the door and saw that it was unlocked. A slow smile spread over his face as the marauder in him saw all the glorious possibilities. "What does a secret door lead to? A secret room, that's what."

Do you dare? a tiny voice inside his head asked.

I'm James Potter. Of course I dare, he shot back. Besides, if it had been left unlocked, how could it be dangerous? Nevertheless, he took a deep breath as though it would ready him for whatever was inside. He took hold of the door's lever and pulled it down, bracing for the worst.

It was a room so dark one could hardly see anything, and yet James could sense the cobwebs hanging from the ceiling and the dust covering every surface. He balanced the tray on one hand and reached for his wand with another. "Lumos." The little light that the end of the wood emitted was enough to illuminate his surroundings and confirm his suspicions.

Where am I? Now he was certain that he had never set foot in this place at Hogwarts in all of his seven years at the school. The map they had created wasn't perfect, after all. He cast his eyes around, and its emptiness mystified him. Why would the school allot a room to store nothing in it? To collect dust? He let out a low chuckle even as he noticed the torches that lined the walls. With one slash of his wand through the air, all the torches were lit with fire, and the room was suddenly immensely bright.

That was when he noticed an oval contraption on a stand in a corner. Cautiously, he approached it until he was facing its other side. His brows twitched in surprise.

He was standing in front of a mirror.

And it didn't seem to be just another mirror. Adorning it on top were letters embossed elaborately. James squinted at them, trying to decipher what they said but failing to make either head or tail of it: erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi. His eyes travelled down the entire length of the mirror, and as he did so he saw himself just as he was, holding the tray in his hands. Well, it wasn't as though I expected anything else.

He was about to turn around and leave the room when his image began to blur around the edges. Stunned, he watched as it completely faded and was replaced by another, also of him. Only... He stepped closer. He didn't have the tray in his hands, and he looked somewhat older. James set the tray down on the floor and gazed into the mirror, wondering what the vision meant.

The hazy outline of somebody next to him appeared, and he looked to his left in alarm. There was no one there. He glanced back at the mirror just to make sure and saw, to his astonishment, Regina standing right beside him. He reached out and touched her smiling face, but his fingers only encountered cold glass.

What is this magic?

James noted how she also seemed to be years older than she was right now. But it didn't make any difference, he thought, because she was just as beautiful as she was right now. And she is still with me, he realised with a jolt as he saw their hands entwined. His heart started beating faster. Could it really be...? Could this mirror actually show the future? He continued to watch in fascination as, like a play unfolding, the image of Regina changed slightly to show her cradling a baby with one arm.

We're married. We're going to have a family, build our own home, live together. Strong emotions of wonder, love and understanding coursed through him and made him close his eyes. He inhaled deeply to steady himself. The images were in a way unsettling, for they hit him like lightning, and yet they looked so right, as though they were meant to happen. And he liked it. Now that he thought about it, he could imagine that kind of future.

Beset with all these sentiments, James ran out of the room and raced to find his way to the Gryffindor tower and his dormitory. He needed someone he could talk to, someone to assure him he wasn't dreaming. Nobody he wanted was in the common room, so he dashed up the stairs to hid dormitory. He pushed Sirius' curtains aside without preamble and shook him forcefully. "Padfoot! Wake up! I have something to show you!"

Sirius groaned in his sleep and turned his back on him, but he continued to pound his shoulder.

"Padfoot!"

"What in the name of Merlin are you waking me up for at this time of the night?" Sirius demanded sleepily, finally sitting up.

"I have something to show you," James repeated, yanking Sirius to his feet. "Come on!" He dragged the other boy down the stairs and out of their tower until the latter jerked his arm away irritably.

"I can walk now, okay? Stop lugging me around like a... Like a dog," Sirius said, rolling his bleary eyes. He followed James through a series of stairs and a deserted hallway until they reached a great silver door at its end.

James pushed it open and entered, gesturing that it was safe to enter. Heaving wearily, Sirius stepped into the room as well and rubbed his eyes. When his sight had finally adjusted to the brightness, he found James standing in front of what appeared to be... He walked to his side and peered at it. A mirror.

"You woke me for a mirror?" Sirius complained petulantly, close to stamping his foot.

His best friend tightly grasped his wrist. "It's not just any mirror, Padfoot. Look at it and tell me what you see."

Sirius smacked his palm to his forehead and snorted in resignation. He did as James requested--but saw nothing. "Prongs?" he said hesitantly. "Why can't I see our own reflection?"

"What?" James's own eyes snapped to the mirror once more. Sirius was right. Its surface was as blank as though there was nobody standing in front of it. What does it mean? "But Sirius, a while ago, I saw myself there! Me and Regina together, with a baby..."

"Are you sure?" Sirius asked dubiously. "Maybe you need some sleep." He yawned and added, "I know I need more."

"Concentrate for a moment, Sirius. I need your help here." He bit his lower lip as he thought for a moment. "Maybe it's like a boggart." The idea struck him from nowhere. At Sirius' disbelieving stare, he elaborated, "It's like a boggart in that it doesn't work when it's faced with two people." James stepped aside so that Sirius was alone to look at himself. "There. Now tell me what you see."

"Nothing. Yet. But blimey--" Sirius paused, and a sad expression of longing reshaped his face. "Prongs? You said this showed you..."

"And Regina. With a baby. It's like we're this one happy family," James eagerly finished for him. "You? Is that what you see?"

Sirius shook his head. "No. I see something else." He paused for a heartbeat and turned to James. "I see my family, complete and happy and normal." He gazed wistfully once more at the image on the mirror.

"Oh." James looked crestfallen but added hopefully, "Maybe it does show something different for each person. Let me try again." Sirius moved aside, and James took his place in front of the mirror. Almost instantly, as though it had no doubts whatsoever what to show him, that picture of him and Hermione with a baby nestled in the crook of her arm materialised. His face lit up in a smile. "This is just what I meant. See?"

But the moment Sirius tried to share what he was seeing, it dissolved into nothingness.

"I was right then," James mused aloud. "This mirror shows something unique to each one who looks into it, and it probably only will for two people if they share the same future."

Sirius' forehead wrinkled at the last part of James's statement. "You think this mirror shows the future?" he asked sceptically. "I don't think so, Prongs. My father's dead, remember?" James winced, and he continued, "Besides, mirrors are supposed to reflect something. How can it reflect something no one else has ever seen?"

"I don't know." James shrugged, looking a little lost. "I suppose I shouldn't trust this thing then--whatever it is--as it obviously is under some powerful enchantment." He glanced at Sirius, whom he found with his mouth opening and closing rhythmically as though carefully enunciating some words. "What are you doing, Padfoot?"

"Reading what's written above," he answered, motioning for him to temporarily stop asking questions.

James followed his line of sight and said, "I already tried that. It doesn't make any sense."

Sirius didn't respond to this and went on studying the letters intently. He tried rearranging them in his head in the hope of forming a message, but there were too many letters for him to keep track of. He pursed his lips. A mirror, he reminded himself. This is a mirror. On impulse, he decided to attempt reading the letters backward. I show... not your face... but... your heart's desire... His eyes widened in realisation, and he read the words again.

"Prongs, I've got it!" Sirius announced triumphantly. "It reads, I show not your face but your heart's desire. It's written in reverse. You know, mirror language."

"Not my face but my heart's desire," James repeated in a thoughtful mutter. "It's just like the reverse of a boggart then; instead of showing you what you fear, it shows you what you've been wishing for." He looked keenly at Sirius and said, "You mean you want your family to be that way? Happy and normal?" Immediately, he cringed inwardly at his lack of tact, but Sirius did not seem to mind his choice of words.

"And you," Sirius countered, a smirk on his face now. "You dream of marrying Regina and having a family with her? It is your heart's desire?"

James coloured. When his best friend put it that way, it sounded awfully embarrassing. And yet... He conjured for himself the image the mirror had shown him, and he felt like he was going to melt from the warmth that glowed inside him.

"You don't have to answer, Prongs. It's written all over your face."

James smiled sheepishly. Sirius did not know how the idea had taken root even before and was now slowly blossoming. If his heart's desire was a plant, then the mirror had simply watered it and made sure it sprouted healthy. But mirror or no, he was certain he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Regina Weisz.

"I know," he admitted. There are some things that just hit you, and you know nothing could be more perfect. "And I'm sure it's the right one."

Author's Notes: I want to thank everybody who has been reading and/or reviewing; thanks for sticking with this story thus far! I also want to let those who have been leaving me PMs and emails that I really appreciate your asking about the next chapter. I'm quite flattered, really! Haha. :) As early as now, I'm letting you know that I won't be updating for at least until after a month. *hides* I'm sorry, but I'm really going to be busy with school. If it's any consolation, the next chapter will be just as long as this one to incorporate all the necessary details.

The doll and the Mirror of Erised will be somewhat important later on, but then again, so will the watch. And maybe even the broomstick, and the old witch at Dervish and Banges, and Sirius' acceptance of the romance. Haha. Sometimes I have a hard time keeping track of what to include for future reference. Oh, and I also made up the rationale behind the watch, and the contradiction of the boggart and the Mirror of Erised is one concept that has been growing on my mind for some time now.

Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Happy holidays! :)