I hope our story has a happier ending

we'll take on the world

A/N: some exact text from the books

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It takes a moment for Hermione to realize what's happening, when the first memory begins.

Harry's hand grips hers tightly, though—that's what gives it away a split second before Petunia's younger self screams Lily's name.

He looks strangled as he witnesses the interaction—the aunt that spent so long enabling his pain, back before she was completely consumed by bitterness. The mother he's always missed.

Hermione's gaze drifts past him, to where Sirius stands motionless, eyes locked on his friend and expression absolutely desolate. He doesn't even make a face as Snape's younger self comes into view, doesn't care about anything except Lily.

He'd held this back when they spoke to her with the resurrection stone—always trying to protect the people he loves from his own emotions.

(Something Hermione knows well.)

But here, now, when Lily can't see him in return, it's plain on his face how much he misses her; how much guilt he feels for her being gone.

Moments pass, and the scene shifts once and then again; Hermione's half listening but still trying to keep an eye on Harry and Sirius's reactions even as a small part of her mind is trying to figure out why, exactly, Snape felt these memories so critical for Harry to experience.

(Does he think explanation of his friendship with Lily will provide him absolution, as though the woman herself was not the exact contradiction to every bit of the harm he's caused?)

They're at the train station, Petunia lashing out and Lily beginning to cry, while their parents stand by and say nothing to soothe the tension between the two—nothing to come to Lily's defense or comfort.

It's then that Hermione puts the pieces together as Sirius looks on with disdain but no surprise.

The pain of a family that's not home, the rejection from those intended to love you most: his was what had drawn him and Lily together despite their history of animosity—why they'd had a friendship, despite their differences. What had drawn her and Remus together in the first place.

Lily is one of them, Hermione sees; differently, of course. But broken and lonely nonetheless. Understanding of the rage in her eyes months ago at the mention of what her sister's family had done to Harry clicks even more firmly into place.

And then they're on the train, and Sirius has clearly been trying to hold back but can't help himself from falling to his knees with a sob at the sight of the two boys in their compartment.

It strikes her, then, how much Sirius and Severus had in common—how they might've been friends, if they'd realized they were fighting the same demons. But at the same time, Sirius's bone deep hatred of the other man as an adult makes perfect sense: he'd been up against the same battles and fought despite them, while Snape had used them as an excuse for his actions. Sirius has no empathy for people who choose wrong because he had every reason in the world to himself—and didn't.

"Not sure exactly why the bastard thinks you need all of this," Sirius manages to say to Harry, despite the tears in his eyes as the scene featuring James evaporates.

They discuss Remus's lycanthropy, the awful incident where Snape calls her a Mudblood occurs, the altercation outside the Gryffindor portrait.

And then, Dumbledore stands before them, and Hermione feels goosebumps pop up all along her skin. She can feel it—something significant is happening before them.