A Second Channe Through Time

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Page count: 11

Potter Manor - Wednesday 21st April 1982

"JAMES! REMUS! SIRIUS!" Hermione shouted, her footsteps a frantic blur as she tore up the stairs, racing straight for the third-floor living room.

"Where's the—Hermione!" Sirius started with a laugh, only for it to die in his throat as she skidded to a stop, nearly tripping over the edge of the rug. She caught herself on the arm of the couch, chest heaving, eyes blazing with urgency.

"McGonagall's Patronus," she gasped, pointing to the silver-blue cat pacing anxiously across the carpet.

The three men froze. Then—fear, readiness, and instinct slammed into place.

"What happened?" James demanded, wand already in hand.

"The Order's tracked Death Eaters to Worcestershire," she said, the words tumbling out in one breath. "I don't know how many—we're looking at a full battle."

Sirius straightened, expression sharpening. "Then we'd better move."

Hermione spun to Remus. "Go to the Burrow. Tell Molly and Arthur they need to evacuate—now. Then take Harry straight to Malfoy Manor; their wards are stronger than anything else we have. I have no doubt Arthur and Lucius will want to help."

Remus nodded briskly, already turning toward the fireplace. "I'll see you at the front line," he said with a crooked grin, scooping Harry up as the little boy squealed in confusion.

"Twenty minutes," Hermione added sharply. "I'll send my Patronus, it'll guide you to us."

"Got it." And with that, Remus vanished in a burst of green flame.

Hermione turned to the remaining two. James and Sirius were already shifting their weight, magic vibrating hot and ready beneath their skin.

"We'll go in our Animagus forms," Sirius said, voice deepening with anticipation. "It'll be quicker."

Hermione nodded once. "Let's move."

~000~000~000~

Worcestershire

Once they stepped off the Potter grounds, the three of them broke into a run. They covered nearly three miles before the trees thinned and a large field came into view — a battlefield already aflame.

Dark-robed, silver-masked Death Eaters clashed with figures in robes of various colours. Explosions crackled in the air, smoke stung the back of Hermione's throat, and beams of magic shot across the field in frantic arcs. Scorched earth, shattered trees, and patchy fires littered the landscape.

They all shifted back to their human forms.

"Are you going to be okay?" Hermione asked quietly — though the question was aimed more at James than Sirius. Sirius had been at her side through every battle she'd fought; James had spent years protecting Harry instead.

James flashed her a grin, twirling his wand between his fingers like it was second nature.
"It's been a while, but it's like flying a broom — you never forget."

"Wouldn't know," she muttered, "never learned to fly."

They snorted at that, nerves easing for the briefest heartbeat.

"Good luck," she said.

"Good luck," they echoed.

She caught both their chins and kissed them quickly — nothing more than a brush of reassurance — before they broke apart, forms splintering in different directions until they disappeared into the chaos.