What if...

A Chocolate Frog

When Harry and Hermione had told Fred and George about what they- mostly Hermione- had done, the redheaded twins had gotten down on their knees and praised her.

"Oh, get up." Hermione had snapped, smiling.

Obviously, they left out the part after, which, on Hermione's order, was to stay strictly between them.

"And where have you two been?" Madam Longbottom accused as they both turned up at the tent, looking scraggly with their clothes and hair dishevelled as a result of the chaotic night.

"We..." Hermione started, unsure of what to say.

"I think I have a guess what you were doing." Augusta inferred.

"Each other?" Neville sniggered.

"Neville, I will not tolerate that behaviour from you." His grandmother scolded. "Anyway, I believe you both apprehended a Death Eater. Of course, Minister Fudge took full credit. Do you have any idea how irresponsible that is?"

Harry wanted to reply with something sarcastic, but he reserved that for the irresponsible adults, the ones that didn't really care what happened to him. He couldn't bring himself to reply, mostly because he was truly ashamed he had put Hermione in danger with his reckless behaviour.

Hermione was the opposite yet the same, never really good with authority, and absolutely could not bring herself to lie to a just authority. So they both stayed silent, waiting for their punishment.

"Since I am not either of your parents, I cannot punish you, but know that I am very disappointed in the both of you." Augusta notified them disapprovingly.

On the verge of tears, Hermione sniffed. Augusta Longbottom reminded her of Professor McGonagall too much. She held tears in, begging herself not to cry in front of her friends.

Harry just looked down. He had never really felt shame before. Not true shame. He decided he hated it.

He felt Hermione's sadness. He saw her unshed tears. It felt wrong to kiss her while they were being told off, so he just squeezed her hand. That action sent tiny ripples of warmth through Hermione, starting in one hand, ending in the other.

"You are lucky I am not the olden type." Augusta reminded them. "You are also lucky Mister Black was busy apprehending other Death Eaters. Or, more accurately, I am. He would probably congratulate you."

Sirius had tried to get his old job as an Auror- more accurately a HIT wizard- as soon as he was declared innocent. He had immediately been accepted again, as the Wixen world were somehow fickle and stubborn at the same time.

Sirius hadn't been seen fit to take care of Harry or his friends- not through his own fault, of course- and the Ministry knew this, so Sirius was sent to a group of mind healers that were exclusive to previous Azkaban convicts, innocent or guilty. He hadn't gotten out until after Harry had agreed to stay with Neville. The process took a while, considering he had spent more than a third of his life inside that prison. Augusta had agreed to step in and take care of the children, even Draco. However, she was not expecting this level of recklessness.

Hermione hated disappointment more than anger. She would rather be punished. Although, she was glad her parents weren't going to hear of this. They would go nuts.

"Everyone back to the portkey." Augusta ordered. "Even if you are a Lord, that does not mean you can run headfirst into the clutches of a Death Eater."

"We were worried, you know." Draco said quietly once they were back in the Manor. "And I don't get worried about much."

With each disapproving glance from their temporary guardian, Hermione let out a tiny sniff. Augusta felt terrible, but she knew it was needed. This could not happen again.