A Second Channe Through Time

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Page count: 19

Lupin Cottage - Saturday 23rd January 1982

Their second date had gone just as well as the first — perhaps even better — and Hermione was quietly grateful that James and Sirius kept everything between them relaxed. No pressure. No expectations. Just... ease.

First, mini-golf.

Then the Muggle zoo — hours of wandering, laughing, teasing, and the boys preening shamelessly whenever she kissed their cheeks.

And now, their third date: a winter picnic outside Lupin Cottage, baskets of food spread over blankets, and the three of them exploring the forest with no company but the wind threading through the branches.

What surprised Hermione most was how natural it felt. She didn't feel awkward. She didn't feel guilty. She didn't feel like she needed to force herself into the emotional boxes she'd known in the original timeline.

She was... relaxed. Happy. Content.

She knew she should see them as she once had — James, the father of her bonded brother; Sirius, her future friend and uncle figure — but she simply couldn't. They weren't those men. Not anymore. Not here.

James was alive. And Sirius... this Sirius hadn't been broken and hollowed out in Azkaban. He hadn't endured a decade of cruelty and madness. This Sirius was bright. Mischievous. Loud. Warm. Always grinning, always laughing, always alive.

Hermione shook her head, pulling herself from her thoughts as she answered James's question.

"Hide and seek."

"What?"

"Hide and seek," she repeated, already standing. "You're it!"

Before either of them could blink, she bolted — sprinting off the blanket and weaving through trees, dodging under low branches, vaulting over roots and fallen logs. Leaves crackled beneath her boots as she darted deeper into the woods.

Behind her, she heard their laughter echo through the trees, mixed with the heavy thudding of their footsteps as they pursued her.

She reached the largest tree she had ever seen — its trunk wide and ancient, its branches stretching like arms toward the sky. Without hesitation, she began to climb, finding holds with practised ease until she perched high above the forest floor, hidden in the shadows.

From up here, she had the perfect vantage point: she could see them, but they couldn't see her. Not unless they were looking very closely.

A few moments later, she heard branches rustle and twigs snap beneath a familiar weight. She glanced down–

James was already climbing toward her, eyes glinting with amusement.

He reached her branch and smirked. Her pout said everything.

"You're going to have to do better than that to hide from Padfoot," he told her. "His senses are sharper than mine, and I still found you fairly easily."

She grinned, conceding the point, and began to climb back down. He followed.

Movement sounded in the distance — heavier, faster. Sirius.

They shared a look, then they ran.

They sprinted through the forest, dodging low branches and weaving between trees until James stopped abruptly, bent forward with his hands braced on his knees.

"We need to lose him," he panted.

Hermione listened, her heightened senses straining. Then she grinned when she caught the distant trickle and splash of water.