The Missing Sister

The Missing Sister
Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/33564922.
Rating: Mature
Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M
Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Theodore
Nott/Blaise Zabini, Past - Regulus Black/James Potter
Characters: Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Severus Snape, Remus
Lupin, Narcissa Black Malfoy, Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, Lucius
Malfoy, Sirius Black
Additional Tags: I don't actually like snape, I also don't ship snily, but it's for plot, but I do
ship wolfstar tho, Slytherin Hermione Granger, Not Canon Compliant,
Cheating, very briefly, blink and it's gone, Infidelity, if it's not your cup
of tea skip the prologue, Hogwarts Era, Alternate Hogwarts House
Sorting, Good Slytherins, 40 chapters in I think I like snape now, watch
this become slightly severitus from year 5 on, Albus Dumbledore
Bashing, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Morally Grey Albus
Dumbledore, Sirius Black Needs a Hug, and therapy, Minor Pansy
Parkinson/Harry Potter
Language: English
Series: Part 1 of The Missing Sister
Collections: Elite Dramione Goodness, Ongoing fic, Dramione, Wanna read when the
Stats:
📖
time comes, dramione i'll read soon, Reread these Promising Works
when Complete , All Time Favorites
Published: 2021-08-29 Completed: 2024-02-20 Words: 652,347
Chapters: 75/75
The Missing Sister
by singularritae
Summary
The owl appeared late at night and left just as suddenly, he recognised the handwriting
immediately and ripped open the envelope.
She is yours.
If something happens to us, I want you to hide her. Name her Hermione, for she will have my
last libation before I sleep and be the messenger of dreamers.
Moony and Mary know.
Three words. Three words that forever changed the course of the war.
Notes
Honestly, this is just all my head cannons put together in a story. I originally wrote it to
myself because it was getting too big to stay inside my head and then eventually it got too big
to not be posted.
Basically this is my "how I wish things had happened" (besides the snily part right in the
beginning I don't ship them I just needed it for plot byeee)
Translation into Português brasileiro available: The Missing Sister - A Irmã Desaparecida by
LuliMaciel
but if the world is right
If I could change
I'd keep away the rain
And the sun would shine every night
And I'll come meet you there someday
PROLOGUE
December 22nd, Cokeworth. 1978
“Lily, you are out of your mind!” Mary hissed as both of them struggled to fit under James’
cloak, “If James finds out—”
“He won’t find out if you keep your mouth shut!” Lily hissed back. “We are almost there.”
“How can you know he will be there? You two haven’t talked in ages! He’s a Death Eater
now, it’s dangerous! He can hurt you!”
“He would never hurt me.” Lily scoffed and Mary rolled her eyes.
“I can’t believe how soft you still are for that boy.”
“I’m not soft, it’s just— he’s my best friend, we’ve known each other since before
Hogwarts.”
“—and almost got the boys expelled!”
“They almost got themselves expelled.” Lily pointed out and didn’t add about Sirius almost
getting Severus killed, “anyway, we are almost there.”
They walked in silence for a few minutes, Lily reminiscing about her childhood when she’d
play on these same streets. She’d have missed him if it weren’t for Mary's gasp.
“He’s right there.” Mary pointed and Lily’s heart skipped a beat. She didn’t want to admit it
out loud, but she was secretly afraid he wouldn’t come.
“I told you he’d be here.”
“How?” Mary asked incredulously.
“It’s the anniversary of my mother’s death. We always came here to pay our respects.” Lily
explained, her voice a little bit choked. Mary's eyes softened considerably and seemed to
have finally decided that Lily wouldn’t be in danger.
“I will leave you two alone. Don’t be too late. You know it’s dangerous at night and James
will be worried.”
“Okay. Thanks for coming with me.”
Mary nodded and after removing the cloak from her, apparated away.
Lily watched Severus for a moment before joining him. This was the first time they talked
since their last fight when they were still in Hogwarts. Her heart was beating madly in her
chest. She couldn’t believe her eyes.
She walked to him and he turned around at the sound of the crackling leaves under her feet.
Lily removed the cloak and Severus' eyes widened in surprise when he saw her.
He hadn’t expected her to be here at all.
“Hello.” She said.
“Lily.” He said, his voice strangled.
“It’s been a while.”
“Yes.” She agreed. He still looked the same, even though he looked a little troubled. It was
easy to see her best friend in him when they were both in the place where they always played.
“I thought you wouldn’t come.” She confessed and quietly sat beside him on the trunk.
“You always said she hated being alone. I didn’t want her to be sad that we forgot her.”
“Thank you.”
They stayed quiet, just watching the two headstones in front of them. Mr. and Mrs. Evans.
“At least they died before the war turned too ugly. I was afraid something would happen to
them.”
“You shouldn’t be here, you know it’s dangerous for you,” Severus said quietly. It dawned on
Lily then, how much she had missed this tone of his, the watchful and worried tone he used
to use when she replied to Barty Jr.'s and Mulciber's taunts. Not the drawling, patronizing one
he’d use by the end of their school years.
“Are you going to tell on me?”
“You know I would never.” He replied and then with a look at the ring on her finger, scowled.
“Does he know you are here?”
“No. He wouldn’t want me to come.”
“I’m glad you came.”

“Me too.” Lily answered and turned her face to him, only to find him already looking at her,
“I wish—I wish you could come.” Lily whispered and she saw that at least he tried to mask
the displeasure.
She knew he got the invitation because he didn’t ask what she was talking about. And some
part of her, an ugly part of her, was glad because she didn’t think she’d be able to tell him.
Honestly, Lily was scared. Terrified really. She loved James, of course, she did, she loved
him something crazy and something impossible. But she couldn’t help but think that
everything was happening really fast. She had barely left Hogwarts, people were dying left
and right, her parents were dead, her sister wasn’t talking to her, and—Merlin she’s getting
married in two days.
“You know there’s no way I can go.”
“Petunia isn’t talking to me. She won’t come. My parents are dead, you—”
“You know I could never see you marry another man. You know my feelings for you.”
Severus said, so different from the last time they spoke. He had no regrets now, no
inhibitions.
“Sev—”
“You don’t need to say anything else. I don’t want to fight anymore. Who knows if I’m ever
gonna see you again? I don’t want you to regret coming here.” Severus said quietly and Lily
hated this ‘I don’t know if we will be alive tomorrow’ sort of speech. She hated that she kept
hearing everywhere she went. She hated that every day it seemed that she lost more and more
control of her life every day.
“Don’t talk like that.” She said and to her surprise, her voice was choked up, “I came here
because I thought you might be here. I wanted to come because I wanted to see you before
my marriage. I wouldn’t regret coming here.” I came here because this is my last chance of
bringing you back. She didn't say.
“Lily—” Severus hesitated. He took a long breath and sighed. “Why are you marrying him so
soon?”
And Lily respected the ‘so soon’ because it meant that at least, Severus had finally accepted
that she loved James.
“Because—” because she’s scared she will die tomorrow; because she loved James so much
that the idea of losing him terrified her; because she wanted to at least pretend that things
could still be good even in times like these; because she wanted to feel happiness again.
“Why wait?” She asked instead, but by the look Sev gave her, she knew he probably knew all
her reasons anyway. He still knew her the longest, after all. Before James, she'd say he knew
her best.
“Remember summer before 6th year? We’d come here and tell your mother everything that
happened the previous year. Your father would come to find us and say—”
“Can you at least let her rest when she’s dead?” Lily finished and they chuckled.
“We’d spent hours talking to her,” Sev remembered.
“I don’t think she’d like to hear about this year.”
“Me neither.”
“Your father is resting with her now; I believe she liked that.”
“Yeah.”
Lily looked ahead of her, to where her old house was, just after the hill. She almost couldn’t
remember what it looked like inside. She hasn't returned home since graduation. With the war
and everything happening, she knew it wasn't safe for her father. In the end, it didn't matter
anyway.
In the end, it was Severus who warned her of what the Death Eaters were going to do. In the
end, it was the only reason why she knew she had to try one more time. She also wanted to
see her old room one last time.
Severus seemed to be able to read her mind because he said, “I made it safe for us to go
there.”
“You did?” She asked, voice small as the first time he told her what she was. He nodded and
with a devilish grin, she hopped off the trunk and offered her hand for Severus to take.
They walked silently to the house; Lily pretended she didn’t notice the way Sev kept
caressing the hand he was holding. Lily’s not foolish, she knew she had feelings for this boy,
even if they were confusing and not as clear or as overwhelming as her feelings for James.
She also knew today was probably their last day together.
Inside the house, everything was the same as the day she came to collect her father’s things, a
few months ago. Lily let go of Severus’ hand and climbed the stairs to her room. He stayed
behind, leaving her to have a few moments on her own.
Lily sat on her bed, looked around, and let her tears fall shamelessly. She cried for her
mother, for her father, for her sister that refused to talk to her, for all her friends that have
already died, and for the friends that would die, she cried for her and she cried for James.
When Severus appeared at the door, she cried for him as well.
Lily didn’t think that the hardest thing she had to do was say goodbye to him. She knew he
understood because he sat close to her on the bed and held her in a hug. Lily cried even
harder, shaking under his arms while Severus soothed her.
She hated herself for being this terrified. She hated herself for thinking that marrying James
tomorrow means she would die soon. She hated that the Gryffindor in her made her willing to
take the biggest risk, to play the strongest card, she hated how Regulus' death had freaked her
out.
It all happened really fast, one moment he was wiping her tears and in the other, she was
sealing their lips together. Severus hesitated for a full second before kissing her back
desperately. He slowly lowered her on the bed, giving her plenty of time to put a stop to this,
but Lily could only grab him with her, determined to try everything.
They kissed and kissed, in the beginning, it was soft and tender, like the beginning of their
friendship, with just an edge of desperation, but then it got urgent and Lily thought that the
world would end if she stopped kissing him. Sev must have thought the same because his
hands were roaming her body and she was nodding even before he asked.
Lily missed the thrill, she realized. The feeling of just being alive, of doing something
reckless. She missed when explosions meant people would be laughing afterward and not
staring back at her with glass eyes.
Their bodies met like the old friends that they were: shy and uncertain at first, but just like
their friendship, it quickly became overwhelming. Their touches got soft when they’d
remember the days when everything was still good and happy and naïve; her touches got
rough when she remembered the names he called her and around the end, got sad when she
realized that they would only see each other from different sides of the battlefield.
She pushed him away and they locked eyes. It hadn't been enough. He wouldn't come back
with her, she wouldn't need to ask Dumbledore for a safe place for him.
“I love you Lily, and I might hate him, but I’m glad you are marrying him because he makes
you happy and you deserve it,” Severus told her before Disaparating away.
revel in the calm before the storm
Chapter Notes
And so we start! Thank you for the reactions to this story, I appreciate it.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
The garden is haunted by us

And every mistake that we've made
Is at peace cause it lead us both here
Chapter One
July 23th, Hogwarts. 1991
Severus strolled through the empty and silent corridors; the castle as quiet as it could get.
Without students chattering, the portraits slept even though it was in the middle of the day.
There were almost two months until September 1st, he shouldn’t be in the castle already, but
everyone was on their toes as to what this school year would bring.
Severus opened the door of the Teacher’s Office and found McGonagall with piles of letters
in front of her.
“You are here early Severus.” The Transfiguration teacher said.
“I needed to see what ingredients I have and what I need to buy for Potions this year. Merlin
forbids me to go to Diagon Alley when the students start pouring out of every corner of that
place.”
She offered him a small smile, more than aware of his reservations towards children. “So,
you better go soon, I’m sending these letters first thing tomorrow.”
McGonagall might have been expecting an answer, but his eyes caught on the name on the
envelope on top of all the others in the small pile labeled ‘muggle-borns'.
“You are not the only one that has been curious about that one,” Minerva said and Severus
looked up, his face remained impassive. He stared at the woman with cat-like eyes and saw
hope in them.
That envelope right there was the reason why he was at the castle early.
“The headmaster?”
“Is ecstatic. He’s sure it’s her. He says they could have hidden her all those years, but there’s
no way they can hide magic.”
“What do you think?” Severus asked, his voice flat. He picked up the smallest pile, seeing
three other names alongside hers.
“I don’t know. That’s not her name, but no one expected her to appear with the same name,
no one really knows her age, only that she’s supposed to be older than Harry. We didn’t have
any muggle-borns last year, so he was sure it would appear this year. Harry’s letter is also
here. She was one month old when the Potter's went into hiding. The ones who met her are
either dead or in Azkaban.” Not entirely.
“And Lupin?” Severus asked. “Last I heard, he’s the girl’s godfather.” He asked, testing it,
it’s been years since he had last talked with Lupin.
“He doesn’t believe she’s alive. He has stopped answering Dumbledore owls a few years ago.
Begging him not to bother him again, saying it’s too painful.” Minerva said and Severus
could see her eyes shining. Severus refrained from rolling his eyes, Lupin might have taken
the flare for dramatics from Sirius. The snarl escaped his lips and Minerva raised an eyebrow
at him. He ignored her.
“Are you going to deliver the letter?”
“Of course. Otherwise, the poor girl would have to deal with uncomfortable questions from
the Headmaster. I don’t put it past him. He’s been obsessed ever since.”
Severus scowled. He knew perfectly well how annoying the Headmaster has been. The
magical world liked to talk about two things above anything else: how the Potter boy
survived and where was the sister.
Even with all their efforts to hide her, to change her name and features, there she was. The
name on top of the other three, with Dumbledore sure that she was the one, even with another
muggle-born girl on the list. Snape put the envelopes down before he took the urge to
crumple them in his hands.
August 24th, Leicester Square Station. 1991
Hermione had everything ready days before the date scheduled by Professor McGonagall.
The family was supposed to meet with the witch at the Leicester Square Station exit at
Charing Cross Road and because of Hermione's eagerness, they were fifteen minutes early.
She had spent the past month practicing whatever she could do in her room, the witch had
told her about how most spells were done with a wand, and accidental wandless magic was
mostly done by emotion and not on intent, vide accidental. Hermione didn’t quite agree,
because while most things happened when she was angry or upset, she always managed to
make small objects float and move around. She also could play with the flowers in her
mother's garden, making them open and close at the palm of her hand.
They waited ten more minutes and Hermione spotted the woman leaving from a door that
until then, Hermione hadn’t spotted it. It was a tingly place between a book store and a record
store. Hermione and her parents went to meet the woman and the four of them returned to
what now she recognized as a pub. A very old pub.
“Welcome to the Leaky Cauldron,” McGonagall said. “This is the Muggle entrance to the
Diagon Alley. The pub is quite old and the patrons are used to children coming and going
because of Hogwarts, so there’s no problem in staying, but they won’t be serving you
Butterbeers or any of the kind.”
McGonagall explained as Hermione looked around. There were quite a few people inside, all
of them were wizards and witches, and one or two looked a little weird in Hermione’s
opinion. Hermione felt her mother tugging her closer. “There are a lot more than witches and
wizards in the magical world, you will see soon enough, I’d say most creatures you heard of
in myths are true.” She said and Hermione’s eyes widened, she looked around to see if she
could see anything that looked a little different and only a very ugly old woman stood out.
“Hello, Professor McGonagall.” A man behind the bar greeted.
“Hello, Tom.”
“Another muggle-born?” The bald man asks as they near him.
“Yes, we have four this year. I will come with the last one next week.”
“Good, good. Hagrid was here earlier with Harry Potter. Such a pleasure!” He said and
Hermione noticed her soon-to-be professor stilling. Tom was oblivious to it all and smiled at
Hermione. She saw that he had a few teeth missing and noticed her parents grimacing in
return. “Welcome then, Miss?”
“I'm Hermione Granger,” She said and he nodded.
“Welcome home.” He said and Hermione grinned at him. It didn’t escape her how the man
ignored both her parents in this exchange.
Hermione watched with hungry eyes everything around her. “This is the passage to Diagon
Alley, to enter, you need to tap the bricks from the trash can, three up and two across,” she
explained as she tapped with her wand. The bricks turned and opened in an archway.
Hermione thought that she was ready, that she knew what to expect, but not even unlimited
imagination would have prepared her for this. Dozens of stores with colorful entrances filled
both sides of the street, hundreds of people walking, most of them with pointy hats and weird
clothes, children running around and things were flying everywhere. One of the stores had a
plaque that read Eeylops Owl Emporium with many cages hanging from the outside with
owls inside; another store was very pink and was called Sugarplum's Sweets Shop. Hermione
had no idea of what most of the stores sold, their names were unhelpful when she had no idea
what Quidditch was and why she’d need Quality Quidditch Supplies.
“Welcome to Diagon Alley, Miss Granger.” McGonagall said, “In here, you will find
everything you may need during your years at Hogwarts. Let’s first open an account for you
at Gringotts, where you can exchange currency and start on your supply list.”
Hermione nodded and as they went, McGonagall pointed to shops and explained what they
sold and Hermione noted it all down in the margins of her school list. She was excited about
Flourish and Blotts the most.
Of course, McGonagall couldn’t stay for it all and after Gringotts, a huge bank with weird,
rude creatures with pointy noses and ears, she gave the last instructions and they separated
with a small smile from the older woman and a ‘see you soon’. Hermione couldn’t wait.
It was easier than Hermione thought it would be because she refused to look lost. She
watched the other children running and knowing exactly where to go and she did the same,
strolling inside shops as if she’d done that her entire life. Her parents were making things a
little complicated because they stared and pointed and everyone around them seemed to
realize they weren’t magical. Hermione huffed in annoyance.
She had almost everything on her list, a few more books than the ones required because she
simply couldn’t stop. Her parents were carrying all the bags and she still had to pick up her
robes that earlier, she had taken her measures for. “You can wait for me here,” she said, “It
will be too crowded with all our bags.”
Hermione had just turned to enter Madam Malkin’s when two people opened the door to
leave, almost bumping on each other. “I’m sorry,” she said, quickly noticing the scowl on the
boy’s face.
“Look—" He started to say, but his mother put her hand on his shoulders and he closed his
mouth.
When Hermione looked at the woman’s face, she met a beautiful blond woman, probably in
her late thirties. Hermione was openly staring and that’s why she saw something akin to
recognition pass around the woman’s face, but it was gone as quickly as it came. Maybe she
confused Hermione with someone else.
“Hello,” the woman said politely and with a small smile. “Are you starting Hogwarts this
year?"
“Yes,"
“That's exciting, isn’t it? My son is also starting this year.” She said and Hermione saw the
boy standing a little bit straighter. “Are these your parents?”
“Yes.” Hermione nodded, and the woman smiled. She took a long look between Hermione
and her parents, Hermione felt like she was under severe scrutinization by the woman’s
calculating eyes.
“My name is Narcissa Malfoy.” She introduced herself, “You seem to be caring a lot of
things.”
“It was an extensive list.” Her father said and Hermione noticed how both Narcissa’s and the
boy’s hands were free of bags and packages. “And Hermione decided to buy half the books
from the store.” Hermione blushed in embarrassment at her father’s small nag.
“It's good to be curious,” Narcissa Malfoy said approvingly, “We still have so much to learn.”
She said, looking at Hermione. “This looks heavy,” She said, pointing to one of the many
bags between her and her parents. Hermione only nodded in response; a cauldron was heavy.
“Do you mind a little help? Nothing you won’t learn soon enough at the castle.” The woman
said with a wink.
Hermione watched as Narcissa Malfoy pulled her wand from one of the folds of what she
now knew was Wizard Robes - pretty ones at that, they were dark green and silver. Hermione
had yet to cross someone this well dressed. Narcissa pointed her wand at Hermione’s bag of
shopping and twirled her wand in a few curious moves. The boy watched it smugly beside his
mother as Hermione felt the weight of everything almost disappear. Hermione gasped
amazed.
“Useful, isn't it?”
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” She said and nodded at Hermione’s parents and made to move away.
“I'm Hermione,” she said to the boy, only noticing that she hadn’t introduced herself to the
woman.
The boy looked at her and gave his mother a glance, who only gave a curt nod, “I'm Malfoy,
Draco Malfoy.”
“Come Draco, we are quite late. I’m sure you will have lots of time to befriend each other in
the castle.”
The boy nodded at his mother, albeit confused, and followed his mother.
Hermione entered the store and quickly found the woman who had measured her, she was
busy tending to another boy.
“Hello, I came to pick up my robes.” She said politely.
“Oh yes,” the woman said, still tending to the boy’s left pant leg. She raised her head only
enough to look at Hermione. “Accio Miss Granger’s order.” She said and Hermione watched
as a parcel flew straight to the woman’s waiting hand. Hermione had seen this spell be used
many times today, most wizards and witches used it to call for things, Hermione had to duck
from three books at the bookshop, as they all flew from the shelves into the employees’
hands.
The woman handed Hermione her parcel and was quick to return to the boy, muttering under
her breath about why people always decided to come at the same weekend to do their
shopping.
The trip back home was spent in silence, not only because they were on the metro and
commuters would find strange a conversation about magical schools, cauldrons, and owls,
but because Hermione’s mind was going a million a minute and her parents seemed to be
scared for life.
...
August was spent reading all the books she had bought at Diagon Alley and trying to get her
parents to take her again so she could buy more, to no avail. For them, once was good
enough. Hermione had read Hogwarts, a history, three times, and she was fascinated by
everything, every night as she closed her eyes, she dreamed of the castle and what she would
be learning come September.
She learned about the four houses and Hermione wanted to be sorted in Ravenclaw, where
she’d find peers who liked to learn as much as her. Finally.
Hermione had also read all her textbooks for the year, back-to-back, she was eager to try a
few and see if it was true, if she really could do all that. She had read about not being allowed
to do magic outside the school, so she just murmured the enchantments without holding her
wand and practiced the wand movements.
She had so many questions. Questions had always been Hermione’s closest companion and
now it seemed they were about to eat her alive. Most of the creatures she learned in myths
and tales were real: goblins, fairies, dragons, mermaids, vampires, werewolves, it was all
real.
But what left Hermione curious the most, was the chapter about the First Wizarding War. A
war that ended ten years ago and all because of two babies. Harry Potter and the Missing
Sister. Hermione wondered how two babies could have destroyed the biggest dark wizard of
history. Hermione knew she was going to meet him at Hogwarts because it said he was
supposed to start Hogwarts that year, she wondered if they could become friends.
September 1st, King Cross Station. 1991
She arrived early at the station, due to nerves. Hermione knew where to find the platform
because she had read all about it in the books and she was eager to show off to her parents, so
she strolled ahead confidently and refused to appear afraid of knocking headfirst into the
pillar.
Her mother had a hand on her left shoulder and her father on her right and together the trio
crossed the pillar between platforms nine and ten.
It was crowded, even though Hermione had made sure to arrive 45 minutes early. There were
hundreds of people on the platform, parents and their children saying their goodbyes. Trying
to find a way through the crowd, Hermione passed a mother asking her son, a good three
years older than Hermione, if he had remembered to pack underwear.
“If I get a howler this year—” A mother seemed to be scowling her son, given her tone and
the way her lips curled at the word Howler.
Another mother was smothering her daughter in a hug. “Owl me every week, do you hear
me?”
Without realizing it, she had walked ahead of her parents and only stopped when they called
for her. She turned around to find them clutching at each other, afraid of the many wizards
and witches around them. “This compartment seems to be empty.” Her mother said, pointing
to one of the windows next to her. “Go on, so you will have a place.”
Hermione nodded. Her father pulled her into a hug. “Be careful, write us, alright?”
“I will.”
Her mother was next in pulling her into a hug, “I’m going to miss you.” She said and tried to
control the mess that was Hermione’s hair, to no avail.
Once inside the train and seated by the window, she waved her parents goodbye and smiled.
She was so excited, and a little nervous as well. She couldn’t wait to arrive at Hogwarts and
to be sorted. Maybe she’d finally have friends, maybe she’d finally feel like she belonged.
An hour in, someone knocked on her compartment door and she looked up from her copy of
Hogwarts: A History. He stood by the door for a moment, looking at her and Hermione
cocked an eyebrow. Wasn’t he the one who knocked? Why did it seem like he was waiting
for her to say something? He sighed in relief and ruffled his fringe. “Sorry, do you mind
sharing?” The boy asked. His hair looked like it just had been through a run in the wind.
“Not at all.” She said and the boy nodded, entering the compartment and closing the door
behind him. “I’m Hermione,” she said, offering a smile and a hand.
“I’m Harry.” He said, grimacing. Oh. Was he that Harry?
He looked to be the same age as she and Hermione tried to start a conversation. Maybe
making friends who had magic like her would be easier. “Are you a first-year too?”
“Yeah,” he nodded, “You are too? I thought you were older.” He said, pointing to her book
and clothes, Hermione had put on her uniform as soon as she could.
“No, I just like to be prepared.” She said, a small blush possibly tinting her cheeks, this is
where people would make fun of her. “All of this feels more real if I wear it.” She confessed.
“Oh.” He said and opened a smile, “new to magic too?”
“Yes, I’m a muggle-born, as I’ve learned.” She said and motioned the book in her lap, where
she learned about the word for the first time after hearing it from Professor McGonagall when
the Professor came to deliver the news. “Are you a muggle-born as well?” She asked if he
said yes, then he was probably another Harry, not the famous one with an entire chapter just
for him.
“Yes—I mean, no.” He stopped and shook his head, he seemed annoyed by something. “My
parents both were wizards. My mum was a muggle-born though, but I never met them, they
died when I was a baby, I just learned about magic recently, when the letter came.” He
shrugged, “I’m as good as a muggle-born then.”
So, he was him, Hermione thought. Unintentionally, she thought someone as famous as he,
would be a little big-headed or boast a little, introduce himself with his full name like the
blond boy did that day at Madam Malkin. Hermione had understood later when she started
reading and saw the boy’s name among the oldest and wealthiest wizarding families. But it
made sense if Harry had no idea. God, if she was confused with learning that she was a
witch, imagine learning you were a wizard and that everyone called you The-Boy-Who-
Lived. It explains why he was looking ragged and seemed to wait for a reaction from her
upon seeing him.
She sighed and decided that it was better to come clean now and if he wanted to leave and
find some compartment where people didn’t recognize him, she’d give him the option. “At
least there’s a chapter about you, you can read to catch up.” She tried to appear dismissively
and that she didn’t really care about who he was.
“Oh,” he said again, this time there was no smile. “You know.”
“I really love reading and I read every schoolbook before coming and I bought a few others
as well. I recognized what you told me from one of them.”
“Great.” He muttered and scratched his forehead underneath his fringe, probably where the
scar was. “At least you are not bombarding me with questions about something that I have no
recollection of.”
“That’s why you were still looking for a seat an hour after we left?” She asked, a small smirk
on her face.
“Yeah,” he grimaced but soon gave a small chuckle. “Three people asked me how I defeated
Voldemort and another two asked me to show my scar. They were asking about my sister,
which I didn’t even know I had one before all this. I don’t know about wizarding society, but
in the muggle world that’s considered rude, isn’t it?”
She laughed. “I’m pretty sure it’s considered rude here as well.” She said.
“I was sitting with this boy, he seemed really nice, it’s his first year too, but he started talking
about many wizarding things and I had no idea of what he was talking about and he just
expected me to know about them. I said I needed a wee.” He finished with a laugh and
Hermione giggled. He took a look at the book she had open. “He told me about the four
houses. He reckons the best one is Gryffindor and the worst of them is Slytherin.”
“Really?” She asked. Hermione had found the house values interesting and even ticked a few
on the list she thought resembled her, but beyond that, she hadn’t given much thought as she
read that most students were pureblood due to Salazar Slytherin’s views. “I found Slytherin
more appealing than Hufflepuff, to me at least.” Hermione had always been at the top of her
class and strived to be the best, she loved when her teachers praised her, wanted to always be
on the end of praise. Hermione didn’t think modesty was something she had in her.
“He said they were evil.”
“He probably said that because most of Voldemort’s followers and Voldemort himself was
Slytherin.”
“You said his name.”
“What?”
“Everyone that I met until now didn’t use his name. Hagrid almost cried when I asked him.”
“It’s just a name.” She said and Harry nodded.
They talked more after that, about the things they could expect from the classes, the teachers
and their classmates. Hermione shared her incidents with accidental magic and Harry shared
his. Without prompting, Harry told her about his uncle and aunt and how much he disliked
them, mostly because they knew everything and kept from him: the faces of his parents, the
existence of his sister.
As Harry was telling her about them, Hermione couldn’t help but think of which house those
people would be if they had been wizards. Since she learned about the four houses, she had
taken to try and sort people she knew in them. His aunt and uncle were clearly evil and yet,
they didn’t have a single trait that the Slytherin house valued, not with their pettiness and
how mundane they seemed to be.
When the sun was high in the sky, another boy appeared by their compartment door and
asked if they’d seen a toad. Harry and Hermione shook their head and when Harry decided to
return to his previous compartment, not wanting to appear too rude, Hermione offered to help
the boy find his toad.
The boy, who introduced himself as Neville, was telling her about his toad and how his
grandmother would kill him if he lost it when she saw a familiar blond hair ahead of her in
the corridor.
The blond boy had two boys with him, one on each side of him and he was laughing. She
smiled a little, happy to find him again. Without thinking it further, she called him. Draco
turned around, his two friends turned as well. Neville seemed to pale and quickly hid behind
her.
Draco looked at her and a second later recognition colored his grey eyes. “How are you? It’s
nice finding you here.” She said.
“Do you know her Draco?” One of the boys asked, he had a really big round face and a mean
look to him.
“No,” Draco said with a scoff and she furrowed her brows. He clearly had recognized her.
“You do.” She said, “Your mother helped my parents and cast a spell to make the things—”
“Helped your parents? What are they? Muggles?” The other boy asked disdainfully. The
round boy laughed; Draco glared at her.
“I think you are crazy,” Draco said, pointing his nose in the air. “It’s probably your hair,
eating your brain.” His friends beside him laughed at the taunt and she crossed her arms on
her chest. Hermione wasn’t impressed. “I don’t know the likes of you.” Neville behind her
squeaked.
“Imagine,” the taller of Draco’s—now evident— lackeys said in mockery, “Draco knowing a
muggle.” He had a terrible laugh, Hermione found.
“Not even for clowns.” The other said and Draco, without saying anything else, turned
around and resumed his walk, brainless lackeys behind him.
“Neville, I think we found your toad.” She said, loud enough to be heard and she smiled
inwardly when the blond boy faltered for a second before straightening his shoulders and
walking as if he didn’t hear her.
I don’t know the likes of you. He had said. With a pang on her heart, Hermione realized
people wouldn’t like her in the magical world as well.
...
The thought that just burns into me

Of you in the ink of the night
Is the breathtaking danger of you
Severus disliked Sorting Day in general, the whole expectation and the excitement from the
professors; the other Head of Houses competing who’d get more students this year when
usually the hat called ten students each, a bit too specific if you’d ask Severus. This year was
even worse in his opinion: while they reconnected - as Pomona had put - at the Professor’s
Lounge before the start of the Start-of-Term banquet, he heard his colleagues gossiping and
trying to guess where Potter would be as if it there would be any surprise. Severus scoffed; he
was sure the boy was nothing more than a copy of his father.
Quirinus was standing on the corner of the room with wide eyes and a slightly nauseated
expression, Severus looked away before anyone noticed him glaring at his colleague. What in
Merlin’s name passed through Dumbledore’s head to give the guy the D.A.D.A position?
That turban alone was ridiculous, and Severus was half-listening to the new Defence
teacher’s explanation when he heard someone saying her name.
He didn’t turn his head or showed that he was listening as Aurora and Septima talked.
Septima seemed boomed that she wasn’t going to teach Potter anytime soon nor have a
chance to guess which muggle-born girl was the Missing Sister. Aurora said the stars hadn’t
given anything yet on the topic, but she’d tell Septima as soon as she knew anything.
Apparently, his colleagues were thirty-something gossipers. He scowled at both women and
Minerva caught it. “You seem even more eager to start the term this year Severus.” She
noted, Severus appreciated the sarcasm.
“Not a fan of teaching eleven-year-old celebrities.” He said.
Minerva was about to reply when Filch came in, announcing the students had arrived.
Pomona squealed in excitement and Severus held back another scowl. Minerva quickly
excused herself to prepare to greet them in the Entrance Hall.
Appearances aside, he was nervous. It had been years since he, his face and voice, had last
talked to her. Not that starting a conversation with a four-year-old after a not-so-accidental
run-in consisted of talking, but every meeting after that had been under Polyjuice potion
where he could only watch her grow from afar.
Narcissa had so kindly told him about running into Hermione at Diagon Alley during the
summer and Severus hated the jealousy he felt when she told him. As he walked towards the
Great Hall, loud voices already filling the room, he tried to decide which was worse: to watch
her grow while pretending to be someone else for nine years or to have her at an arm’s reach
without being able to be her father.
Sitting at his usual seat on the High Table, Severus had the misfortune of having Quirinus on
his left and had to hear about the man’s plan for the year. Pomona waved and smiled at her
Hufflepuffs as they entered the hall and two of them came to gift her with a new plant
brought from wherever they went for the summer. Severus was glad his Slytherins would
never bring him potion ingredients.
Twenty minutes later, when everyone was finally seated, teachers and students alike. Minerva
opened the doors of the Great Hall and lead the first years behind her. It took him seconds to
spot her amidst the other students, she didn’t have Lily’s green eyes, but the wonder and the
glint in them were the same. His chest hurt as he watched her: she was telling the girl beside
her something, eyes on the ceiling, where the fire of hundreds of candles reflected on her
eyes. His answer was easy then: to have her here in the castle at an arm’s length was better
than any run-in at Tesco on the grocery aisle.
Minerva placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years and on top of it, the old, ratty
hat. Severus inhaled, waiting for whatever song the hat composed for the year.
“Oh, you may not think I’m pretty,

But don’t judge on what you see,
I’ll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me.”
Severus took the opportunity to look around him. Quirinus was tapping his fingers on the
table and Severus considered for a second stabbing him. He decided to look at Dumbledore
instead. The old man was smiling, head moving to the rhythm of the song, but what made
Severus’ hand curl in a fist under the table was his eyes: twinkling behind half-moon
spectacles locked on her.
“You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats are sleek and tall,
For I’m the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
And I can cap them all.
There’s nothing hidden in your head
The Sorting Hat can’t see,
So try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be.”
Minerva had already warned him that Dumbledore was sure it was her, that they couldn’t
have hidden her magic and he held back the urge to scoff. They had hidden her magic, had
erased her name from the books and people’s mouths, had erased her from magical records as
soon as the Dark Lord disappeared.
“You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart;
You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;”
There were only a handful of people who knew her real name, a name that felt less real than
the one she had now. Renee Potter was the name Potter had chosen, but he never had any
right in choosing her name. In Lily’s last letter she told him her choice of a name, the one she
wanted in case something bad happened. And something bad happened, something terrible,
something that was his fault. He still had the letter, safely stored, away from him and his
undeserving eyes.
“Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

if you’ve got a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You’ll make your real friends,
Those cunning folks use any means
To achieve their ends.”
He had failed Lily, he had run to the Dark Lord after overhearing the prophecy, hoping to rise
in the ranks and prove that he could be someone. Instead, he had cost Lily her life. He had no
idea at the time, that the girl was his, according to the rumors, she was not even a month old
when he overheard Trelawney’s prophecy, he had no idea that the Dark Lord would think it
was the Potter’s and that Lily was pregnant for the second time.
He still remembered those days vividly; it took not even a week for the Dark Lord to decide it
was the Potter’s. He had seen what happened with the ones the Dark Lord chose as his next
victims. He couldn’t let that happen to Lily. He went to Dumbledore, begged, cried, promised
his life for hers, and three days later, the letter came. It didn’t have a name, but he hadn’t
needed one, not when his books from school were filled with her small notes and smiley
faces. It had five lines. Five lines that had him forging a plan with one of his longtime rivals
and the fiercest woman he had ever met.
“So put me on! Don’t be afraid!
And don’t get in a flap!
You’re in safe hands (though I have none)
“For I’m a Thinking Cap!”
He got out of reverie the moment the Great Hall exploded in applause and joined in just in
time, of course lacking the emotion the rest of the school seemed to show, especially the
Weasleys twins, who were crying in emotion. He felt a headache coming just by looking at
them.
Minerva walked forward, the roll of parchment with their names on her hand. The Hall fell
silent again.
“When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted,” she said.
Not one to raise suspense, quickly called: “Abbott, Hannah!”
Miss Abbott was remarkedly like her mother. The dawning realization that most of his
schoolmates had children arriving at Hogwarts this year told him that many years had passed
indeed.
“HUFFLEPUFF!” Shouted the hat. Just like her mother, then. Miss Angelsin also had
belonged to Hufflepuff.
“Bones, Susan!” Severus made himself look as the girl walked towards the stool. He had
been present when Mulciber killed her grandparents.
“HUFFLEPUFF!” Shouted the hat again, to Pomona’s extreme delight.
Mr. Boot and Miss Brocklehurst were the firsts to join Ravenclaw and Miss Brown was the
first Gryffindor. Miss Bulstrode, who looked quite like her father - Severus apparently had
missed the unlucky woman that became Mrs. Bulstrode - joined Slytherin.
He felt his nerves trying to get the best of him when they entered letter C but willed himself
to control it, just as the hat proclaimed both Mr. Corner and Mr. Cornfoot Ravenclaws.
Mr. Crabbe and Miss Davies joined the Slytherins as he sipped from his goblet. A pity, he’d
have to clap for the next one then.
Mr. Entwhisthe became the last Ravenclaw boy, that is, if they had usual their five-five per
house.
When Finch-Fletchley became the first Hufflepuff boy Severus had to put down the goblet
and hide his hands under the table. His face remained impassive, but the shakiness in his
hands would give away. Severus felt rather absurd, as he had lied to the greatest, most terrible
wizard of all time for a year straight and hadn’t been caught. He should have listened to
Narcissa, the Dark Lord had no place when it came to fatherhood.
Mr. Finnigan became a Gryffindor and Severus learned it by watching the table on the far left
explode in cheers; because his ears had been filled with cotton.
When Goldstein ran to the Ravenclaw table, Severus was running a list of ingredients for the
Draught of Peace. Goyle, unsurprisingly became Slytherin, which Severus felt rather miffed,
as the boy had been nothing more than a follower since he began crawling: just like his
father, without a mind of his own.
Minerva hesitated and Severus caught Dumbledore inching forward. He knew it was her.
“Granger, Hermione!”
His daughter, beautiful, wonderful daughter almost ran to the stool in nerves and he fought
back a chuckle because she reminded him of Lily, who had been afraid that everything
Severus had told her was a lie and they’d take her back to her awful sister.
Nothing happened. He counted in his head and by the fourth minute, the castle was in
complete silence. She was going to be a Hatstall. He noticed her gripping on the edges of the
stool, knuckles white.
“SLYTHERIN!” The hat shouted and Severus saw his soul leaving his body. The girl blinked
at Minerva and the murmurs of ‘muggle-born’ could already be heard throughout the hall.
Of all four possibilities, Slytherin was not one he’d have considered.
Minerva shot a quick look at Dumbledore; Severus followed her gaze and found the
headmaster smiling.
He watched the girl head to the Slytherin table, where both Vincent and Gregory were
already snarling at her as she sat down, Miss Greengrass was the next addition to Slytherin
and sat down next to her, offering a timid smile at Hermione. Severus couldn’t care less about
the rest of the sorting, names mixed as he watched the girl. If she noticed she wasn’t exactly
welcomed at that table, she didn’t show. Hermione held her head high and back straight.
Minerva kept calling names and the hat sent students to Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and
Gryffindor. Severus arched an eyebrow when the Longbottom boy took as long as Hermione
to be sorted. Draco was next and the hat had barely touched his head when it declared him a
Slytherin, both the Nott boy and the Parkinson girl followed him, to no one’s surprise.
When Minerva called Potter’s name, hushes and whispers broke out all over the Hall and
Severus snarled as people craned their necks to get a good look at the boy. It didn’t take long
and soon Potter followed both his parents to the Gryffindor table.
There were only six students left, one who clearly was a Weasley. Severus shot another
glance at the Headmaster and he had finally stopped looking at Hermione and was looking at
Potter, chin resting on his hands.
Finally, with Zabini joining the Slytherins, Minerva removed the stool and the Headmaster
got up. “Welcome,” he said. “Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our
banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment!
Tweak! Thank you!” Lovely, Severus thought and tried to enjoy the feast with his daughter a
few meters from him.
Draco was already glaring at her and Hermione didn’t look impressed. Severus vaguely
remembered Narcissa telling him that she had told her son to befriend Hermione. He was
certain this wasn’t Narcissa’s brand of friendly. More like Lucius' unwavering and distasteful
attitude.
Miss Davies and Zabini seemed to have no problem with Hermione and the trio talked among
themselves during the entire banquet.
“Ahem,” Dumbledore said as the empty plates disappeared from the tables. “Just a few more
words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.
First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of
our older students would do well to remember that as well.” As if that ever stopped the twins.
“I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be
used between classes in the corridors.” Again, as if. “Quidditch trials will be held in the
second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact
Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-
hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death.”
Minerva groaned from her seat beside the headmaster and Severus agreed, not ominous at all.
“And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!” Cried Dumbledore and Severus
wasn’t the only one to make a sound in disagreement. Unbothered, Dumbledore gave his
wand a little flick and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables
and twisted itself into words. “Everyone pick their favorite tune,” said Dumbledore, “and off
we go!”
Severus nonverbally cast a Muffiato on himself and enjoyed two minutes of silence from
what could’ve only have been horrendous by the expressions of the staff and most students.
He dropped the spell when he saw the students rising from their seats and following their
prefects to their Common Room.
“Oh Severus,” Septima said, “I always forget to cast one, you have to remember me next
year.” She said once she noticed he was the only one without a hand on his ear.
Chapter End Notes
I already have 24 chapters ready so updates will be weekly, every Friday.

Please leave a comment with your thoughts!!
Questions, suggestions, complains: I'm camilajvnskt on instagram and moonyhoax on
twitter
The title and the quotes on this chapter belong to Held In The Arms Of Your Words by
Tired Pony
The Sorting Hat song was taken from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. They
don't belong to me, they belong to the original author of the book.
Flowers slipping from our hands
Chapter Notes
Thank you for the comments on the first chapter!
As you end what you've begun

You'll lie patient by her side
Roses red come lilies white
Chapter Two
September 1st, Great Hall. 1991
Slytherin hadn’t been an option Hermione had considered beforehand and by the time she
found a seat on the far-right table, everyone seemed to know she was a muggle-born. It was
all thanks to Draco’s lackeys that now she knew were called Vincent and Gregory.
They stared and a few of them even glared. One older boy had very crooked teeth that she
knew her parents would kill to have the opportunity to straighten them.
“How is she even here?” One guy said and Hermione ignored it, these comments weren't new
to her, she had her fair share of ‘who called her here?’ wherever she tried to approach people
of her age.
The sorting continued and the next name Professor McGonagall called was a blond girl with
wavy hair and very bright blue eyes called Daphne Greengrass. She joined Slytherin and sat
down next to her. Daphne offered a small smile.
“I think it’s a fluke,” a girl said, she didn’t look much older than Hermione.
Hermione scoffed and gained a few raised eyebrows at that. “Are you what? A second-year?”
Hermione asked and the girl nodded curtly. “Well, I’m sure you know so much more than a
thousand-year-old sentient hat that has pieces of every founder, including Salazar Slytherin.”
She said matter-of-factly and two or three students snorted, Hermione smirked. She had been
pushed around her entire life, now that she had finally found a place that she wanted to call
her own, she wouldn't let them.
“I guess you had that coming, Fey.” A girl said and turned to Hermione, “I’m Gemma,
Slytherin’s fifth-year prefect.”
“Nice to meet you.” Hermione said.

The murmurs continued and Hermione noticed them going all the way to the other end of the
table. The sorting continued and six students later, she heard Draco’s name being called.
People murmured around her and when she heard Daphne murmuring ‘oh it’s Draco
already?’ and Millicent rolling her eyes before replying ‘as he hasn’t already brought his
green sheets with him.’ Hermione realized that most of the first years in her house already
knew each other beforehand.
And just like Millicent said, the hat had barely touched his hair when it announced he was a
Slytherin. He walked towards the table proudly and with the same air of superiority he had
back on the train.
Older students almost tipped empty goblets in their haste to greet him and pat him on the
back. He sat down in front of her and raised a single white-blond eyebrow at her. He looked
infuriatingly smug.
So that’s what belonging somewhere felt like.
“Are you lost?” He asked her.
“Shh,” Daphne said, “it’s Theo’s turn now.”
Hermione decided to take the opportunity to ignore him. Draco turned on his seat to watch
and Hermione did the same. A tall, thin, brown-haired boy walked towards the stool,
differently from Draco, he didn’t have the same proud stance and looked a little dejected to
be sorted.
A Ravenclaw that had a P on his robe had scoffed when Minerva put the hat on his head and
Hermione could hear him muttering to his friend. “I don’t know why we waste our time
sorting their sort.” He said, and when the hat announced Slytherin, the boy scoffed again.
“See. It’s not like the son of You-Know-Who’s best pal was going to be anywhere else.”
Hermione wasn’t the one that heard it and Daphne beside her was glowering. A muscle on
Draco’s jaw twitched. “Rookwood, remember me again,” Gemma said, she was checking her
nails as she spoke, “your uncle is still in Azkaban, isn’t he?” She asked just as Theodore sat
down beside Draco.
The Ravenclaw prefect didn’t reply, in fact, he didn’t say a single thing for the rest of the
sorting and later throughout the banquet.
Daphne smiled at Theo and Draco. “Now we only have to wait for Pans.”
Waiting for Pans didn’t take long, just after Tyler O’Colman joined the Hufflepuffs, Professor
McGonagall called Parkinson, Pansy, and a raven-haired girl with eyes as green as the
Slytherin banners on top of them. Just like Draco, the hat had barely touched her head when
it announced that Pansy Parkinson was the fifth Slytherin girl.
Pansy’s hair was of the most lustrous black and she was all sharp smiles as she sat on
Daphne’s other side and both girls grinned smugly at each other.
The four of them started a conversation, a quick summary of the students sorted until now
and their opinion on them. They placed their bets on where Harry was going to go and all
agreed it was Gryffindor. Draco was telling them how Weasley had sneered at his name, him,
of all people - whatever that meant - and that Potter had refused to shake his hand, thinking
himself too famous.
Hermione raised an eyebrow at that but kept quiet. She had talked to Harry for hours and
had found him incredibly humble.
The sorting was nearing its end and four people in a row went to Gryffindor, including Harry.
Weasley, Hermione learned when his name was called, was a red-headed boy with a freckled
face and blue eyes. Hermione did a quick count and found three other red-heads at the
Gryffindor table that cheered when Ronald was sent there.
The last boy standing in the hall was a tall black boy that didn’t wait for Professor
McGonagall to call his name, he walked confidently towards the stool the moment the
applauses on Gryffindor's table died down.
He was really handsome, Hermione thought, there was something on his posture that
resembled Draco’s, but it didn’t quite irk her like Draco’s did.
Hermione noticed Theo following Blaise with his eyes all the way to the Slytherin table and
both Pansy and Daphne shared a look.
“Hi.” Pansy said, “I’m Pansy Parkinson. Is your mother Nneka Chappuis?”
“That was her name when I got on the train this morning.” He said, shrugging as if his
answer made any sense. “If it’s going to last through the night, that I don’t know.” They all
stared, and the boy ignored, not bothering to explain.
Theodore was biting down a smirk and when he saw that Hermione was looking, promptly
turned away.
Dinner was delicious; Hermione, who only had these many options on Christmas dinner with
her parents and all of her extended family, was delighted. Gregory and Vincent, a few people
away from her, were eating like starved men. They didn’t have any of the polite manners and
obvious tutoring from the four around her.
Thankfully, her mother had insisted on proper table etiquette and ignored when Pansy
hummed in appreciation. What did she expect? For Hermione to eat with her bare hands?
“What class are you looking forward to the most?” Tracey asked.
“Transfiguration interested me the most, but I’m really curious about Potions.” She
answered, glad that someone had talked to her.
“My brother said Potions was very difficult and that his favorite was Defense Against The
Dark Arts.”
Hermione nodded, she had read about the curriculum and was excited to learn about the
creatures she had believed to be mythical her whole life. She noticed Blaise eating quietly
and tried to pull him into the conversation. “And you, Blaise?”
Draco stopped mid story about his summer to glare at her. She ignored him completely, “My
mother is a Potions Master.” Blaise replied, “so naturally, I’m excited about Potions.”
The three of them talked throughout the banquet about school and Hermione tried her best to
ignore the murmurs of ‘muggleborn’ and looks in her direction.
She listened to Dumbledore’s warning and shared a worried glance with Tracey when he told
them about the Third-Floor corridor.
“All right, first years, follow me.” Gemma said when they were dismissed.
“You got them Gem?” A boy asked, he also had a Prefect badge on his robes.
“Yeah, don’t worry Robb, I will leave the talk to you.” She said with a smirk and the boy
nodded.
The ten of them followed Gemma and the other Slytherins out of the Great Hall through
chattering crowds to the door on the right side of the Entrance Hall. “This is the easiest path
to our Common Room from the Great Hall or the marble staircase,” she said, pointing to the
staircase where Gryffindor and Ravenclaw students were already climbing. “Our common
room is located in the Slytherin Dungeons. To enter, you need to say the password, which
can’t be shared with other houses, and our password changes weekly, if you forget it, you are
sleeping outside and you won’t want to. It gets cold down there.” Behind the door, there was
a set of stone steps that they descended into the dungeons. The dungeons were a large, low
ceiled area, with many adjacent corridors that looked more like tunnels in the low light. It
was indeed much colder than the entrance hall.
“The potions basement and all the classrooms used in Potions are down here, and Snape’s
office is down here as well. We also have the dueling room and the cave that leads to the
Quidditch field. One of the dungeons has a slug infection so I’d say stay away from there, it’s
quite disgusting.”
“And the other teachers won’t bother cleaning because it’s us who have to deal with it.” A
fourth-year boy said with a snort and Gemma rolled her eyes.
“Let’s not start now Edward, let them learn for themselves.” Gemma said, but didn’t exactly
say what they were going to learn. “Here we are.” She said.
In front of them there was a bare stretch of stone wall, the only thing that differed from the
other bare stretches of stone was the small snakes carved on the stone. “The password this
week is Fraternitas” As she said it, a concealed stone door slid aside and revealed a
rectangular hole in the wall. “Well? Go ahead.”
Their common room was a long room with rough stone walls and ceiling; from the ceiling,
green lamps hung on chains. On the opposite wall from the door, there was a massive glass
window that showed them the Black Lake. The whole room had a greenish tinge to it because
of the water. Each side of the room had a fireplace, already crackling under an elaborately
carved mantelpiece. Around each fireplace, two black button-tufted leather sofas were facing
each other and a coffee table in between. In the middle of the room, two round tables sat
eight and, on each corner, smaller tables, and armchairs. The walls were filled with
tapestries of whom Hermione assumed were past Slytherins.
“On the mezzanine, we have a few bookshelves with books published by former students, and
a few given by former students, my favorite armchair is there so won’t go sitting on it. You
have to earn the mezzanine chairs.” She said and the older students that heard all scoffed at
her.
“Before everyone go to their rooms, I’d like to say a few things.” A girl with a Prefect badge
said, “my name is Penelope Padgett and I’m the seventh-year prefect.” She introduced
herself and rested her eyes on Hermione. Hermione held it and Penelope smirked. “We had a
surprise this year.” She announced and a few people laughed, all of them mockingly.
Everyone seemed to know what the surprise was. Hermione held her ground and refused to
appear intimidated even if her heart was threatening to beat out of her chest.
“Can we return it as defective?” One boy said menacingly, and laughter echoed in the room.
“No.” Penelope said crossly. “And I say knock it off right now.” She pressed, “Slytherin has
been holding the House Cup for six years in a row now. My six years. I don’t care what you
think of muggle-borns or how insulting you may think this is, but if I see us losing points
because any of you think it’s funny to insult her in the corridors, you will have detention
coming on your way.”
“You know who we are and what they call us.” A seventh-year boy said. “Outside these
walls, we present a united front, it has always been like this. We protect our own.” He said,
almost in a hiss. “If you see someone from any house, ours included, saying anything to her
out there—” Hermione noticed people nodding and she saw, in chilling realization, how it
was going to be. “I don’t care if you just insulted her in here, but you get them back for it. Do
you hear me?”
“Yeah,” people agreed, and she even saw a few smirking, already planning whatever nasty
thing they were going to throw at her.
“Good.” Penelope said. “I’ll leave the rest to you, Gemma.”
The older years started dispersing after that. “That door leads to the boy’s dormitory.”
Gemma pointed to the door on their left. “That one leads to the girl’s dormitory." She said
and pointed to the door on the right. "First years get the last room of the corridor, your stuff
is already in there.”
They all made to move and Hermione followed Tracey, as Daphne, Pansy and Millicent had
gone ahead.
“Granger.” Gemma called by the door of the dormitory. “Let me tell you this now: You won’t
have it easy. They are not going to make it easy for you. We have six families of the Sacred
Twenty-Eight here, five of them are going to be your classmates. Historically, only eight
families weren’t mostly Slytherins, you are the first muggle-born to set foot in here for I don’t
know how many years.” Hermione nodded, she had figured her presence there was a surprise
like Penelope had said. “You are going to have to win their respect.”
“I understand.” Hermione said. And she planned to do just that. She had spent her entire life
being made fun of for liking books instead of dolls, she had always been called the freak
amongst her peers. The difference this time is that she finally felt like she belonged. Like here
was her place. If these pretentious people thought she was less than them because she didn’t
have a magical pedigree, she was going to show them exactly who they’d called defective.
“We got you then.” It was the first thing she heard when she entered her dormitory. The other
four girls were already there.
“You did.” She said.
Pansy glared, not pleased with her response. “You don’t belong here.”
“The hat said I did.” Hermione retorted. “There was nothing about not accepting muggle-
borns in the list of Slytherin’s traits. There was cunning, resourcefulness, ambition, fraternity,
and loyalty. Merlin himself was a Slytherin and he was the King’s advisor. A muggle. Merlin
created the Order of Merlin, which promotes Muggle rights. Morgana was a muggle-born
and she was one of the greatest witches, albeit dark. I say you need to get your facts
straight.” She said.
Daphne and Millicent shared a look behind Pansy, and she saw Daphne biting her lips to
keep from laughing at her friend. Pansy’s green eyes narrowed to a slit, it reminded
Hermione of a snake. She crossed her arms around her chest and tilted her head to the side.
“I see you did your homework. Good. Don’t embarrass us.” Pansy said with a snarl.
“Back at you.” Hermione said with a snarl of her own. She’d watched people snarling and
scowling around her the whole banquet, she understood the basics of it now.
Daphne lost it. “Oh Pans, I like her.” The blonde said with mirth. “At least she’s not a dimwit
like Weasley or Longbottom. I even heard Longbottom’s magic manifested at eight!”
“He’s pathetic.” Pansy scoffed and went to her new bed.
Hermione walked towards the only bed without an owner. It was the corner bed and only
when she sat down on her mattress she could appreciate the dorm room around her. There
were five ancient four-poster beds with green silk hangings and bedspreads embroidered with
silver thread, their trunks rested at the foot of each bed. In between the beds, there was either
an armchair or a desk and the wall facing the beds was a glass wall with the lake on the
other side. A Victorian-style tête-à-tête was right in the middle of the glass wall, in between
two empty bookcases. Hermione couldn’t wait to fill them with books.
That night, sleep came easy. She hadn’t realized how tired she was until she finally rested her
head on the pillow. Not even the knowledge that her classmates despised her mere existence
was able to keep Hermione’s excitement for the first day of classes.
When morning came, Pansy didn’t say a single word to her as they showered and changed in
the bathroom, Pansy left first with Daphne behind her, the latter threw a wink at Hermione on
her way out.
She got a taste of what her days would be like when she reached the Common Room and a
sixth-year boy called, “I heard they were needing help down in the kitchen.”
Millicent and Tracey rushed out of the common room, letting Hermione deal with him on her
own. “Really? That’s great that you are volunteering.” She said and without stopping to hear
the foul words he threw at her, crossed the passage.
During breakfast, Professor Snape handed every student their timetable for the year and
Hermione saw that they had five classes a day from Monday to Thursday, and on Fridays,
they had only two. Three seats down from her, Draco was expressing his delight on having
the entire Friday evening off even if it came with sharing Potions with the Gryffindors first
thing in the morning.
Thankfully for her, people seemed much more curious about Harry Potter coming to
Hogwarts than with a muggle-born in Slytherin. Hermione hadn’t wasted a single day before
starting her readings and thus spent most of her time either in the library or going after older
students to check on existing Study Groups. So far, she’d found one about Day-to-Day
Essential Transfiguration that seemed really interesting, but more advanced than Hermione’s
level, but she decided to participate to try to have a grasp on the theory at least. There was
also one formed by second-year Ravenclaws to practice Potions and despite saying she
wasn’t related to Hector Dagworth-Granger they decided she was lying and accepted her
anyway. Many students became interested in the Dueling Club quite early because, after just
one week into classes, everyone’s opinion on Professor Quirrell was that he was a bit of a
joke—Draco and Theo had much more to say if someone asked them.
That was not to say she was going without slurs thrown at her in the Common Room. Often
people would say something as she passed. Pansy was playing a rather complex and taxing
game of pretending Hermione was invisible, but Hermione didn’t really care, because by
Wednesday she’d won fifteen points for Slytherin by answering correctly in class and
singlehandedly put them in the first place.
On Thursday morning, during her break between Quirrell’s class and Transfiguration, she
ran into Harry and Ronald Weasley leaving the Transfiguration Courtyard and Harry smiled
at her. “Hey Harry,” she greeted. “How’s your first week going so far?”
“It’s great.” He said, “I thought I’d be playing catch up with everyone else, but apparently
we are all pretty much the same.”
Hermione nodded and was about to leave when she remembered what she’d seen in the
Trophy Room just the day before. “Oh! I almost forgot Harry,” she said, “when you have
time, stop by on the Trophy Room by the third floor—”
“Now why would he want that?” Ronald asked, voice quite hateful and she raised an
eyebrow at him but otherwise ignored.
“Back in the train, you mentioned you didn’t know their faces.” She said, not wanting to spell
it out with Ronald glaring in front of her. “There’s a picture of them in the Head Students
Corridor, I thought you’d like to know.” Harry blinked at her in confusion and for a second
she thought he wouldn’t understand, but then his face cleared, and his green eyes widened in
surprise.
“Thank you, I will.” He said, voice thankful and she smiled warmly at him. She didn’t think it
was fair not knowing what your parents looked like.
“What?” Ronald asked, curiosity eating him.
“Nothing,” he said dismissively, and Ronald resumed glaring at her, clearly peeved at being
kept out.
“Let’s go then, we don’t want to be seen with her sort.”
She scoffed. “My sort?”
“Yeah,” he replied, looking her down from head to toe.
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” She asked, voice rising. Harry looked between the two
of them confused.
“Does it matter?” He asked with a scoff and after almost a whole week of being constantly
on the receiving end of much more efficient ones, his didn’t even brush.
“Yeah. How much you are going to regret saying it depends on whether you meant by sort me
being a muggleborn or me being a Slytherin.”
He rolled his eyes. “Oh, I bet.” He laughed, “Do you need me to lend you a match so you
can turn it into a needle and prick me with it?”
She got into detention once by punching a boy in elementary school. “You do seem to have a
short memory,” she pointed out, voice light, “Dumbledore said magic in the corridors is not
allowed, but he didn’t mention anything about using one’s fists.”
“And lose all the points you earned? Your snake pals would love that.” He snarled and then
his glare turned a little vile. “Thinking it better, I don’t think they’d even care. It’s not like
they like you anyway. Or do you think I haven’t seen you walking alone all the time? A lot of
best buddies you’ve made down there, huh?”
Hermione tensed her jaw and felt her eyes burning. He was right. Tracey, as nice as she was,
soon realized it was better for her social life if she’d hung out with Milli instead of Hermione
and only talked with Hermione in the privacy of their dormitory. Hermione had made herself
very busy so she wouldn’t notice how lonely she was.
Thankfully, the bell rang just in time, saving her from answering that, instead she passed
through him, making sure to hit his shoulder with her.
During lunch that day, two things happened that baffled her. First Marcus Flint, the sixth
year who seemed to have more fun throwing unoriginal jabs at her every day than talking to
people of his age, told the table about how he'd seen hers and Ronald’s conversation at the
Transfiguration courtyard.
“You should’ve seen it,” he told his classmates between laughter. “Dumbledore said magic in
the corridors is not allowed, but he didn’t mention anything about using one’s fists” he
repeated what she’d said, in a slightly higher impression of her voice. Hermione felt herself
blushing when people howled in laughter, but this time was not in mockery. It was approval.
“I was about to intervene when I noticed him snarling at our colors, but our Hermione had
everything under control.”
Our Hermione. As if she was his friend. As if she was anyone’s friend. She looked at him in
bewilderment. Blaise kicked her calf under the table and when she looked at him, he mouthed
‘is he your best pal, now?’ and she had to hide her chuckles with her sleeves. He seemed
intent on having her being caught, because he tried again, this time mimicking crazy, with a
twirling finger at the side of his head. She laughed out loud and Flint thankfully thought it
was because she found him funny.
Theo, who still had to say a single word to her and preferred to express his distaste with her
presence by simply glaring at her, noticed hers and Blaise’s exchange and smirked around his
glass of pumpkin juice.
Her second surprise was Draco, who said with a tilted nose, “Weasley doesn’t seem to know
his place at all. He thinks he is something because he’s the one tailing Potter around the
castle. I’d love to see him try and say anything to you. I’d put him on his place in a second.”
Again, Blaise voiced her thoughts by snorting so loud he had the whole table looking at him
and Milli offering him a napkin. Draco raised a single eyebrow in question, something
Hermione pegged as his trademark displeased expression. “I was agreeing with your
definition of Weasley,” Blaise said and Hermione knew it was a goddamn lie.
Her encounter with Ronald had her classmates—Draco, Vince, Greg, and Pansy, eager to say
something to the red-headed. On Friday, the first years left the Great Hall bad-mouthing the
whole Weasley family: Draco had a lot to say about Ronald’s father and Pansy was going on
and on about his mother. Pansy’s rant was more bearable to listen to because she was telling
the other girls “it’s a waste of pureblood magic if you ask me. The only thing she did with her
life was pop kids out! If I were crazy enough to have seven kids, I’d use that to make money,
maybe write a book about parenting? I don’t know, maybe children's development? My
mother is a Medwitch, you know Daph, and she told me there’s so little literature on magical
pregnancies, imagine if Molly Weasley had decided to contribute to the magical world with
something other than ugly red-headed children?”
While Draco’s was around “How can Arthur Weasley be so fat if they don’t have enough
money to buy them three meals? Well, you’ve seen how thin the twins are, maybe he gets all
the food first and there’s nothing left for the others.” The only contribution from Vince and
Greg was laughing at Malfoy's foul jokes.
Hermione, Blaise, and Theo were the last Slytherin students to enter the Potion’s classroom
and Hermione was glad that the Gryffindors hadn’t arrived yet because she’d get a table first
and wouldn’t have to worry about being denied a seat when irrevocably the other Slytherins
ignored her.
“Can I sit with you?” Blaise asked, surprising her. He didn’t wait for her reply, placing his
cauldron beside hers and his book on the desk. “I heard you were accepted at the
Ravenclaws’ Potions Club, that means you already know something.”
Theo and Draco sat down on the second row of desks behind them. Theo placed his cauldron
with too much force in Hermione’s opinion and she heard, “what is he doing?” coming from
him in a hiss.
Hermione ignored, “They think I’m related to some Granger. Apparently, he was the founder
of a society for highly-talented Potioneers.”
Blaise smirked, “Well, we are going to see that today.”
The Gryffindors started pouring in and Hermione smiled at Harry and the boy retributed
with a smile and a thank you. She smiled, guessing he probably had paid a visit to the Trophy
Room. As they entered, Hermione looked around and noticed many pickled animals floating
in glass jars all around the walls and compared to the other classrooms, this one was much
darker, probably because some ingredients required low or no light. She had read of some
like that, like the moonstone for example.
When Professor Snape entered, he didn’t bother to greet them or introduce himself, starting
from calling the roll. He paused at Harry’s name. “Ah, Yes. Harry Potter. Our new —
celebrity.”
Draco behind her sniggered and Vince and Greg soon followed. “Do you know if Vince and
Greg are in a long-running game of Simon Says?” Hermione murmured to Blaise and he
turned at her with an eyebrow raised, “Oh, never mind, you probably don’t know what Simon
Says is—”
“I do know what it is,” he said, a smirk now on his lips, green eyes twinkling. “What I didn’t
know was that you had a sense of humor.” He said and she felt herself blushing. A strangled
noise behind them, Hermione didn’t look to check if it had been Theo or Draco. “My Merlin,
they don’t know what they are missing, do they?” He asked delightedly.
“They don’t.” She said grinning, her own Slytherin smirk.
Their conversation was cut short as the professor arrived on Blaise’s name and began his
class.
“You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making,” he began.
Professor Snape spoke in almost a whisper and Hermione was glad to be seated on the first
row because she doubted Neville at the back of the room could hear anything. Hermione saw
how he, just like Professor McGonagall knew how to keep a class silent without any effort.
“As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I
don’t expect you will understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its
shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching
the mind, ensnaring the senses—” he paused and Hermione noticed she had stopped
breathing as he spoke. She wanted to learn all that. “I can teach you how to bottle fame,
brew glory, even stop death — if you aren’t as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have
to teach.”
“Potter!” Professor Snape called suddenly, and Hermione almost jumped on her seat. “What
would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”
Hermione raised her hand. Professor Snape didn’t see, as he was still glaring at Harry.
“I don’t know, sir.”
The Potions professor’s lips curled into a sneer as he said, “Fame clearly isn’t everything.
Thought you wouldn’t open a book before coming, eh, Potter?” Hermione lowered her hand
then, she thought it wasn’t quite fair since the only mention of asphodel on the book was in
the ingredients of the Wiggenweld Potion. “Let’s try again. Potter, where would you look if I
told you to find me a bezoar?”
“I don’t know, sir.” Harry repeated and Draco and his gang were sniggering.
Hermione raised her hand one more time, Blaise hissed at her: “What are you doing? He
didn’t ask you.”
“I know the answer.”
“Well, so do I. Get that hand down.” He hissed again and pulled her arm by her sleeve.
“What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?” Professor Snape asked
again, this time Blaise held her arm and she glared at him.
“I don’t know,” said Harry quietly. “I think Hermione does, though, why don’t you try her?”
Harry said and even with Hermione eager to show that she indeed knew the answer, she
winced because Professor’s Snape expression was far from pleased.
The professor finally turned to her. For a moment he just looked and Hermione, who still had
Blaise’s hand holding her sleeve, remained quiet. Nothing flashed through his eyes when he
said, “Well?”
Blaise removed his hand and Hermione straightened her back before answering. “Sir,
asphodel, and wormwood are ingredients to a sleeping potion called the Draught of Living
Death and asphodel is also an ingredient to the Wiggenweld Potion, an antidote to the
former. And a bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it’s one of the most
efficient ingredients against most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the
same plant, which can also be called aconite.” She explained and the room was so quiet that
Ronald murmur of ‘swot’ felt like a scream.
“Well?” The professor asked again, “Why aren’t you all copying that down?” Everyone
suddenly began rummaging for quills and parchment. Hermione thought her heart was going
to escape through her throat. “A point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek,
Potter, and five points to Slytherin since Miss Granger seems to be the only one to have
bothered opening her schoolbook before coming.”
The professor started assigning them pairs and Hermione couldn’t help but pout at the
thought of sitting with someone else. The Gryffindors had taken offense at her for their lost
point and had joined the Slytherins in the extracurricular called 'Glare at Hermione
Granger'. But when Snape reached them, he merely waved his hand in dismissal and set them
to mix up a simple potion to cure boils.
He walked around the class as they worked, criticizing almost everyone, even the Slytherins,
particularly Vince and Greg. Draco got the royal treatment and was made an example,
asking everyone to look at the perfect way he had stewed his horned slugs. Hermione’s
horned slugs were looking a tad better than Draco’s but the professor had refused to walk
around her table for some unknown reason.
By the end of the class, Neville had melted Seamus' cauldron making everyone stand on their
stools to avoid having their shoes burned, and was moaning in pain as angry red boils
sprang over his arms and legs. While Seamus took Neville to the Hospital Wing, Snape
managed to get yet another point out of Gryffindor by something so absurd that Hermione
almost joined Ronald’s in his indignation.
...
September 6th, Malfoy Manor. 1991
Severus decided to ignore dinner that day and as soon as his last class of the day ended, he
stepped into his personal quarters and flooed to Malfoy Manor.
“Well, that was quick.” He heard once his body exited from the Malfoy’s fireplace. Narcissa
was reading on her favored armchair in the drawing-room. “You bested Draco’s owl.” She
said without lifting her eyes from her book.
“I’m sure he has been busy.” He said, remembering all the times he caught his godson
badmouthing Hermione. “She got into Slytherin.” He added. Narcissa looked up then.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“I’d thought she’d be in Ravenclaw.”
“Me too.”
“That changes everything.” Narcissa said and Severus scoffed. He began pacing back and
forth. “It does.” She stressed, “Severus, she’s closer to us than we could have hoped. You are
her Head of House, you can have a more personal relationship with her--” He scoffed again.
“A more personal relationship? She’s my daughter Narcissa. She sat front row in my
classroom, that’s already quite personal.”
“Severus.” Narcissa admonished, sometimes she talked to him like she was talking to Draco.
“If she had gone to Ravenclaw or Gryffindor like we first thought, your interactions would be
limited to the classroom. With her in Slytherin, any problem she has, she will come to you.
You can check up on her without any suspicion.”
“Obviously.” He drawled, “because the headmaster knows how many meetings I have with
my students to check on their progress and wouldn’t find it weird how I’m suddenly interested
in the progress of who he’s sure is Lily’s daughter. I imagine that going splendidly well for
me.”
“Fine.” Narcissa conceded, “Be depressing.” Severus raised an eyebrow at her, “I will be
inviting her to Yule, whether you like it or not. She’s Draco’s classmate and he always had his
friends over.”
Severus scowled one more time, “Draco and Hermione aren’t friends Cissy, twice already I
caught him and the Nott boy talking shit about her.”
Narcissa sighed and closed her book forcefully. “That explains why he hasn’t written me yet.
Is he mistreating her?”
“You know as well as I do how things happen down there. Outside the common room, the rest
of the house ignore her, but once inside they show their fangs. Elizabeth Burke’s portrait told
me she is handling them quite well.” He noticed Narcissa frowning and piercing her lips, he
could almost imagine the passive-aggressive letter she’d be owling Draco first thing in the
morning. “He merely glares and refers to her as muggle-born. I’m impressed he didn’t
choose another word.”
“I remember her telling us to be nasty to mudbloods.” Narcissa mentioned, talking about that
ugly portrait of Elizabeth Burke.
“I’m impressed too. Lucius is quite fond of that word.” He added, to which Narcissa ignored
him. “And I may have made her believe that I wanted to know if they were being nasty
enough. She is delighted to report.” He said in a drawl, “I’m sure Lucius is going to love
having Hermione over Yule.” Severus commented he's been friends with Lucius his whole
life, if Lucius had his way, Hermione wouldn’t set foot on this Manor, but Severus also knew
that more often than not, the one with the final word was Narcissa.
He blinked. Lucius. Lucius didn’t know about Hermione. When he needed help, he went to
Narcissa and Lupin, the latter was appointed godfather by Lily and the former was Severus’
choice. Lucius had been in the dark all these years.
By Narcissa’s expression she had come to the same realization and proved him right by
saying: “We can’t keep this from him any longer.” She said.
“Cissy—” he started, prepared to discuss the many traits of Lucius that didn’t make him a
person fit to know.
“We wouldn’t have to if she weren’t in Slytherin,” she cut him off, eyes hard and probably
aware of what he was going to say. “It wouldn’t be a problem, but someone will write to their
parents about the fact that there’s a muggle-born in Slytherin for the first time in seventy
years.” Severus' lips tinned at that.
“Cissy.” He tried again, “we can’t—”
“I can trust my husband Severus. I know the man I married.”
There was a reason why they kept Lucius out of their little rendezvous: “He meets with
Adeodatus, Nicodemus and Thadeus for their monthly Muggle hexing.” He snarled.
“I know what they do when they gather for fire whiskey.” She retorted and Severus rolled his
eyes, firewhiskey was the last thing on their nights out. “He won’t let her pass the threshold if
he believes her to be a muggle-born.” Severus doubted that she could even enter the Manor if
she were a muggle-born.
He stopped his pacing. “I do hope you are not willing to disclose nine years of a lot of
cunning, illegal use of magic, use of unauthorized magic on muggles, blood magic, so she
can be invited to your Yule Party.” He hissed and resumed his pacing.
“Don’t be ridiculous, not only Yule, but I was also thinking of summer holidays as well.”
“This is not funny Cissy.” He said, voice almost a growl. “I don’t trust Lucius to not try to
hand her over on a plate at the first chance he gets once the Dark Lord returns.”
“He’d do that.” She said, eyes hard and lips curled. “If he believed her to be the Potter’s
child. She’s your daughter and my goddaughter, Severus. He won’t do anything to her if he
knows the truth. If he knows what you and I did, he’s on our side. We want Lucius on our side,
Severus.”
“Do we?”
“She’s in danger as a muggleborn in Slytherin. Adeodatus’ boy is in the castle, you said it
yourself, you know how the man is.”
He shook his head; he had been watching his students this first week; Theodore might have a
monster of a father, but the boy was quiet and withdrawn in a way that Adeodatus could
never. Differently from Draco, who adored and worshiped his father, Theodore was terrified
of his.
“He’s not a problem. I bet he won’t even write home, he’s probably glad to have left the Nott
Manor.”
“Adeodatus did quite a number on that boy.”

“I have my eye on Nicodemus’ and Thadeus’ boys. Neither Vincent nor Gregory are very
bright, but they are followers, just like their fathers. And Draco is their leader.”
“I will deal with my son.” She said curtly. “I bet those two already wrote home. I believe
Pansy would have written as well. Fortunately, I’m good friends with Primrose, I can tell her
that I’m looking forward to bringing a Slytherin muggle-born to our circle since it’s going to
do wonders to our reputation.”
“I see.”
“We want Hermione away from Dumbledore, Severus. That’s why we did this in the first
place. You’ve seen where he put the Potter boy. Hermione being sheltered by us keeps her
away from him and from befriending her brother. We keep them well apart and we have a
chance of making the Dark Lord look somewhere else far from her.”
“We can’t hide her from him, Cissy.” He said, voice thin, he still had nightmares about
finding Lily’s body against Harry’s crib. A two-year-old girl clutching her unconscious
younger brother in her small hands, looking at him with dark eyes and so much magic
resonating in her small body. What happened that day was still a mystery to him; Harry was
the one with the bloodied forehead, but Hermione was the one with fiery eyes.
“No.” Narcissa agreed, eyes vacant. “The others will go after Potter, you know they will.
They will try to do him in in the Dark Lord’s name. They will go after her, Severus, if they
think it’s her. Lucius can use his connections to have them looking somewhere else. She’s a
Slytherin, Severus. We can take her under our wing. You know how your relationship with
Lucius helped you with the others.”
He knew quite well who she meant by others: the Lestranges. They didn’t appreciate how a
half-blood was part of the inner circle.
Severus was about to answer her when Dobby appeared, he bowed his big head and his
pointy nose almost reached the ground. “Master Lucius has returned.” The elf squeaked.
“Good. Tell the kitchen elves to set another table. We have a guest for tonight’s dinner.”
“Yes, Mrs. Dobby will.”
In silence, Severus followed Narcissa to the dining room. Lucius was already there, seated in
his chair. The table had been magically shortened to seat four people instead of the usual
eight. There was nothing that Narcissa hated more than feeling that the house was too big for
its occupants, now, down by two.
“Evening Darling,” Lucius greeted Narcissa, rising from his chair to kiss her hand and then
her cheek. He turned to Severus. “Evening Severus, I didn’t know you’d be joining us today.”
Lucius greeted.
“It was an impromptu visit. I had business with Narcissa.”

Lucius smiled pleasantly, but like most of his smiles, it didn’t reach his eyes or felt truthful.
“It went well, I hope?”
“Yes,” Narcissa said with a smile of her own, “we still have a few things to discuss. We can
do it after dinner. Severus and I have to share a few things with you, Dear.” By Narcissa’s
tone, if Severus didn’t know, he’d believe she was going to share that she was going to buy
another winged horse.
“It will be my pleasure.”
The food appeared on their plates and Severus, being accustomed to dinners at the Manor,
almost enjoyed listening to Narcissa’s tale of her day, it involved tea with Mrs. Greengrass,
refurbishments on the west wing of the castle, and color schemes for this year’s Yule Ball.
Lucius informed that the family’s business was doing well—Severus did not doubt that, and
Lucius was sure that by the end of the month they’d have the Royal Monegasque family as
partners since the youngest Monaco princess had shown magical prowess. Being a muggle-
born didn’t matter when it came in Royal Blood and made Lucius thousands of galleons
richer.
“Speaking of muggleborns.” Narcissa announced and Severus glared at her, he preferred

having this conversation away from wine glasses and sixteenth century silverware.
But he should have seen that coming when the silverware on the table was one that Narcissa
found distasteful.
Lucius scowled, noise curling in distaste. “Oh yeah, how many are sullying the castle walls
this year? Draco hasn’t written yet.”
“Three.” He answered, not counting his daughter. Narcissa’s look showed she wasn’t
impressed.
“But people believe it’s four.” She said after a sip of her wine.
“What do you mean?” He asked, looking between wife and Severus.
“That one of the students that the less important faculty and student body believe to be a
muggleborn is in fact a half-blood.” She announced, simple as that.
Lucius stared at his wife, a single eyebrow raised and then turned to Severus, his face
coloring in understanding. “The Missing Sister.” Lucius said. “How do you know it’s her?”
“Well,” Narcissa starts, placing her silverware on the table, all proper manner and
generations of tutoring in her blood. “She was missing, you see. But not from us.”
“Business, you said.” Lucius turned to Severus; gray eyes sharp as marble.
“We hid her.” Severus said in his trademark drawling tone. Lucius’ eyes widened minimally.
“I knew you had abnormal feelings for that mudblood, but—”

“Don’t talk about Lily like that.” He cut, “She is, after all, my daughter’s mother.”
“Daughter.” He repeated, voice strained. He turned to Narcissa, hoping for an explanation.
“I was appointed godmother.” Narcissa said instead and Severus smirked. Narcissa Malfoy
should be revered.
“I see.” Lucius said and cut a perfect piece of meat from his plate and took it to his mouth.
Lucius had manners; Severus had to give the man that. The Malfoy patriarch’s eyes were
strained and there was a vein protuberant on his neck, but he chewed without another word,
speaking only after swallowing. “I appreciate being told the whereabouts of the girl the
entire wizard world is looking for, albeit nine years late, when I could have the information
from my wife much early.” His eyes sparked all the anger he felt.
“Our priority was keeping her safe,” Narcissa said, rolling his anger off her shoulder easily,
“the less people who knew, the better.”
“I take from this that someone else knows?”
“Lupin.”
“Lupin? Wasn’t he the traitor’s boyfriend?” Lucius asked in distaste, Severus wasn’t sure
which word carried more hatred, traitor or boyfriend.
“Lily told him the truth before she died. She wanted someone from her side to protect the
girl.” Mary McDonald also knew, but Severus hadn't heard from her since the McKinnons'
death. She was probably one of the missing muggle-borns that never had been found.
“I’m not a fool Severus, why are you telling me this now? You don’t want me to believe that
the pair suddenly grew a heart and started feeling bad about lying?”
“Hardly.” Severus replied. “She was sorted into Slytherin. We know some people who won’t
appreciate her presence there.”
“I’d say every old family and everyone else in that house.” Lucius said and sat back on his
chair, resting his arms on the chair.
“Exactly. I need to keep my cover, the last thing I want is for Dumbledore to find out the truth
and the old fool is already quite interested. Dumbledore knows my feelings regarding Lily, he
can’t see me treating the girl any different or he will know. I can’t do my duties if every single
student in that house is throwing hexes when I look away.”
“There are people who believe she was the one to cause the Dark Lord’s fall.” Lucius said,
“Between the ten of us who avoided Azkaban, the Carrows are the most likely to try
something, Walden, Seoras, and Adeodatus as well.”
“We are aware Dear.” Narcissa said, “But with her staying for the majority of the year in the
castle, there’s not much they can do, and Severus told me Theo doesn’t pose any danger, he
believes the boy won’t tell his father.”
Lucius scowled. “The boy always seemed weak.” Narcissa glared at her husband for the
comment and he sighed. “What do you want me to do Cissy?”
She smiled, “I believe that a muggle-born in Slytherin can do wonders to clean our name.
Maybe you could mention something about it to Thadeus and Nicodemus? I’m sure their boys
already wrote home.”
“You want to bring her to our circle.” He said, not a question.
“I think Hermione would love to attend Yule and spend a few weeks of her summer holidays
with us.”
“We want her far from Dumbledore and Potter.” Severus interjected; he was quite tired of
listening about Yule. “The Dark Lord will return, Lucius. His followers will try to get Potter
before he does, I don’t want her anywhere near them.”
“I see.” Lucius said mouth curled around his glass, “I will schedule an appointment with
Thadeus and Nicodemus, let them know our stand. I can’t do anything about their boys.”
“It won’t be needed.”
Chapter End Notes
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Questions, suggestions, complains: I'm camilajvnskt on instagram and moonyhoax on
twitter
The title and the quotes on this chapter belong to Pompeii by Bear's Den
hold out against the night
Chapter Notes
Hello! Again, thank you for the lovely comments!! I'll try to reply to all of them! I know
we all read the books multiple times and I will try my best to not drag the events and
only write the ones that I feel that are important to the story.
Hope you enjoy this one!
I've never felt so enlightened

Every page I turn
I only find myself
Feeling more alone
Chapter Three
September. Hogwarts. 1991
Despite everything, Hermione’s first week had gone better than she had expected. Of course,
there were still comments. On Monday, Pansy and Millicent laughed loudly about her hair,
and soon every girl was sniggering and making fun of her. On Tuesday, Vincent threw grass
and roots in her plate during breakfast and laughing, said that he thought she was a beaver.
Hermione only glared in response and ignored the burning on her throat. On Wednesday, she
cracked. A sixth year threw a jinx on her that made her legs spasm wildly out of control.
Tears spilled from her eyes as she asked him to stop, to no avail, as he and the rest of the
common room were too busy laughing.
“Finite!” She heard someone say and she dropped to her knees on the floor in embarrassment.
The room had gone quiet, she didn’t look to see who took pity on her. “I assume that’s why
your marks are poor in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Mr. Johnathan.” Professor Snape’s
voice drawled, and she felt her cheeks burn in shame. “Since you still use first-year spells on
others.”
“Come on,” Someone pulled on her arm and Hermione looked up to see Daphne holding her
arm and Blaise standing beside her.
“Use these on your hair when you shower today,” Blaise said and put two vials on her hands,
“My mother sent them.” Hermione nodded and followed Daphne to their room. No one was
paying attention to her anymore, not with their Head of House gluing every pair of eyes in his
direction with his thundering presence.
Once in the bathroom, Daphne left to gather her pajamas and her towel. “You can’t let them
see you cry, Hermione.” The girl said she was sitting on top of the sink counter facing the
shower stall.
“I tried, but everyone was laughing.” Hermione hiccupped.
“It’s just the second week. They will get tired of it soon.” She said and sighed. “I want you to
know that I don’t agree with them, and I don’t participate with Pansy and Milli. I’m sorry I
can’t do more.”
“It’s okay.” Hermione said it was clear to her what was the hierarchy in place in Slytherin. It
wasn’t about age, it was about surnames. Draco outranked everyone in the house, seventh
years greeted him when he passed, they praised his father, expressed their wishes to join him
in business; following Draco was Theo, but differently from Draco, where everyone crowded
and wanted a piece of him, they kept their distance, made way for him to pass and honestly?
They seemed to fear him a little. Hermione didn’t understand at first, because Theo was
possibly the quietest person in the castle, but she had caught whispers and soon learned it was
Theo’s father they feared.
Next came Pansy, a queen in the making, boys courted her and girls wanted to be her; just
like Draco, who had Vince and Greg, Pansy had Milli and Daph, but both girls seemed to
have brains inside their heads.
Marcus was somewhere behind Pansy, and Daphne stood behind the Burke twins, a pair that
looked the same despite them being boy and girl, Hermione had yet learned who was the boy
and who was the girl.
Blaise had a rank of his own since he wasn’t British and his mother was a cosmetics goddess
in the magical world. That’s why he could talk to Hermione and snort at Draco and come
unscathed. “What’s this that Blaise gave me?” Hermione asked, the vials had no label and
when she smelled them, they smelled like green apples.
“I don’t know.” Daphne answered and jumped from the sink, coming to stand closer, but still
safe from being splashed. “There’s no label. He said it came from his mother, maybe she
hasn’t released it yet.” She said, her eyes glinting in curiosity. “Try it. Let’s see what it does.”
In the end, after Daphne helped her dry her hair with a very simple spell, Hermione saw what
it did. Both girls gasped at what they saw in the mirror. Her hair was still curly, but her curls
were tamed and not frizzy anymore. They also looked a lot more moisturized and less brittle.
She felt her eyes watering again. “Hermione,” Daphne said and grabbed her forearms.
“I’m crying because I’m thankful.”
“Pansy will hate it.” Daphne laughed, “she’s Blaise’s mom’s biggest fan. Pansy will hate that
you used one of Nneka’s products before her.” Hermione sniffed and smiled a little. “I will
make sure to point out tomorrow during breakfast.”
And Daphne did just that came morning. She complimented Hermione’s hair and when
Blaise told her his mother had chosen Hermione to test her new products, Daphne expressed
how jealous she was and what an honor that was. Pansy glared throughout it all, especially
when both Milli and Tracey also complimented Hermione and asked Blaise for a vial.
“I don’t know. When mamma asked me to describe the girls’ hair in our year, she said
Hermione’s was the most perfect one and chose her to be the inspiration.” He replied and
Hermione knew it was a load of bullshit, but she grinned and blushed anyway. Pansy huffed
and stalked from the table after that, Blaise smirked and winked at her.
Blaise was so astonishingly beautiful that Hermione felt the effects of his smile in her belly.
Milli and Tracey seemed to have felt as well.
“You okay, mate?” She heard Draco say and turned to see Theo choking on his food. The
pair, followed by Vince and Greg left the table after that and Hermione enjoyed one of the
nicest breakfasts since arriving at the castle: without Pansy, the other girls didn’t need to
ignore her and without Draco and his cronies, Hermione ate two croissants without any
comments about a rodents’ diet.
That afternoon, they had their first flying class and Hermione was nervous. She didn’t like
things she couldn’t learn from a book and after reading several books on flying she knew that
flying was instinctual.
They arrived before the Gryffindors and crowded together in one of the sides before the line
of twenty broomsticks on the ground.
“Marcus said the school’s broomsticks are terrible.” Draco as saying to Vincent.
“They look so old.”
“Yeah,” Draco scowled, “it’s almost like the school can’t afford to buy new ones. If the
school chose better which students to take, maybe we could have better brooms to learn.”
Hermione knew perfectly well it was a jab at her. “I thought you already knew how to fly?
What’s this talk about learning? Since you said you’ve been flying since birth, I imagine you
won’t have any problems, or am I wrong?” She asked, her smile as plastic as she could
manage.
“Of course, I know how to fly, muggle-born.” He snapped.
“So, quit complaining.” She snapped back.
The Gryffindors arrived and Draco closed his mouth. The warning to not insult her around
the other houses was the highest standing rule in Slytherin.
“Well, what are you all waiting for?” The flying instructor suddenly barked. “Everyone stand
by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up.”
They did as told, and Hermione picked one that didn’t look so old. Theo was on her left and
Blaise on her right, both were looking bored by the class and Hermione knew that, just like
Draco, they already knew how to fly.
“Stick out your right hand over your broom and say UP!” Called Madam Hooch at the front.
She did just as Madam Hooch said, but her broom simply rolled over. Theo’s and Blaise’s
jumped to their hands at once, she snuck a glance around and saw that Draco’s and Harry’s
had as well.
“Think of it like an animal.” Theo said she assumed it was to her because she was the only
one around him without a broom in hand. “Animals can tell when you are afraid, and they
don’t obey you.”
Hermione did it again, thinking about her aunt’s late poodle and the tone she used to speak to
him when he chewed one of her books. The broom flew to her hand.
Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms and walked up and down the
rows correcting their grips. She corrected Draco’s grip and Harry and Ron on the other side
sniggered at him, she saw Draco’s ears getting red. Boys.
“Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard,” she said. “Keep your
brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly.
On my whistle — three — two—Come back, boy!” She shouted, and Hermione looked up to
find Neville rising nonstop. He didn’t look like he was controlling it. Hermione gasped when
he slipped sideways off the broom and started falling.
It was a loud thud and a nasty crack, Hermione winced and thought about giving up flying at
once. Madam Hooch soon was bending over him and helping him up. “None of you is to
move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or
you’ll be out of Hogwarts before you can say ‘Quidditch.’ Come on, dear.”
Neville was crying as he hobbled off with Madam Hooch and she saw Draco inching closer
to Harry as the instructor left.
He burst into laughter, and she rolled her eyes. So immature. He started making fun of him
and everyone joined him. Theo laughed and cracked a joke, he looked immensely proud
when Blaise laughed. Hermione watched the scene with narrowed eyes. She didn’t know
what to feel. Despite his constant glaring, he had yet to make a joke or laugh at one made
against her, Blaise didn’t glare at her at all. But both boys seemed to have no problem in
laughing at Neville.
One of the Patil twins, Hermione didn’t remember which had gone to Gryffindor and which
to Ravenclaw tried to defend Neville and Pansy sneered at her.
“Look!” Draco snatched something out of the grass, “it’s that stupid thing his gran sent him.”
Hermione watched as a glass ball in the size of a large marble, full of white smoke.
“Give that here, Malfoy,” Harry said and Hermione looked away. She had heard enough from
the blond boy to know that things would quickly escalate. Everyone stopped talking to watch.
One of Draco’s nasty smiles appeared on his face. “I think I’ll leave it somewhere for
Longbottom to find. How about up a tree?” He said and Theo snickered beside her. She
watched as Draco leaped onto his broom and took off. She groaned because of course, he
knew how to fly. He gave a little show since every pair of eyes were on him. “Come and get
it, Potter!”
Harry grabbed his broom and Hermione decided it was time to intervene. “No.” She said and
grabbed Harry’s sleeve. “Madam Hooch told us not to move. You will get in trouble.” Harry
simply ignored.
She glared at Draco instead and he only smirked. Harry went up without difficulty and the
girls of his house cheered, the smile was wiped from Draco’s face.
They couldn’t hear what they were saying up there and they watched as Harry leaned forward
and Draco got out of the way in time, people were clapping and cheering beside her.
Draco threw the glass ball high into the air and Harry raced to it. Laughing, Draco came back
down.
“If you make us lose a single point—” She started.
“What? You are going to get them back.” He shrugged and she glared at him.
“HARRY POTTER!” They heard and turned to see Professor McGonagall running toward
them.
“Now he’s done for.” Draco grinned and saw matching grins in almost every Slytherin face.
They watched as she berated him and called him to follow her.
When Madam Hooch returned, Ronald told her what had happened and she resumed class,
now with even harder eyes and sharper instructions.
By the end of it, Hermione had managed to fly in an eight-motion and not slide to the other
side. She was glad when her feet touched the grass again.
The rest of the evening was spent by hearing the boys retell the flying class’ events in
increasing exaggeration.
She and Blaise were doing their homework at a table on the corner of the room and they
giggled at Vincent’s tale of how Draco had flown without holding the handle.
“Can I join you?” Theo asked and Hermione looked up to see the boy turned to Blaise,
ignoring Hermione’s presence.
“She’s helping me with Charms.” Blaise lied and Hermione almost didn’t mind that he had
used her to discourage Theo.
“Okay, I already finished my Charms homework.” Theo replied and sat on the empty chair.
“They are too loud over there.” He explained when Hermione and Blaise kept staring.
“Whatever.” She said and resumed her homework, this time helping Blaise with Charms.
They did their homework in silence, twice she had caught Theo staring at her before shaking
his head and going back to his work. It was weird having Theo with them and Hermione sat
tense throughout it all.
The trio left for dinner together, Draco had taken a single glance in their direction, scowled,
and went ahead with Vince and Greg. Draco thankfully ignored her during dinner and
pretended that Theo talking to Blaise didn’t bother him in the slightest. Instead, he whispered
something to Vince and Greg and they smirked at each other, she knew nothing good was
going to come out of that and even straining her ear to hear, couldn’t make out more than
Harry’s name.
When dinner ended and she saw them heading towards the Gryffindor table, she decided to
follow them. “What do you think you are doing Draco?” She called and the blond turned to
grin at her, needless to say, it was as fake as every other smile he threw in her direction so far.
He kept walking and stopped by Harry and Ronald. “Having the last meal, Potter? When are
you getting the train back to the Muggles?”
Harry glared. “You’re a lot braver now that you’re back on the ground and you’ve got your
little friends with you,”
“I’d take you on anytime on my own,” Draco replied, and she raised her eyebrows. “Tonight,
if you want. Wizard’s duel. Wands only— no contact.” Harry only stared, he, just like her,
seemed to have no idea of what a Wizard Duel was. “What’s the matter? Never heard of a
wizard’s duel before, I suppose?”
Harry seemed to share Hermione’s pride because he kept looking cooly at him and Ronald
wheeled around. “Of course, he has. I’m his second, who’s yours?”
Draco looked between Vince and Greg and seemed to remember Hermione was standing
there as well and she saw something flashing in his eyes before he announced. “Granger.”
“Excuse me?” She said and he ignored her,
“Midnight, all right? We’ll meet you in the trophy room; that’s always unlocked.” He left
them and Hermione whirled behind him.
“What do you mean? If you think I’m participating in—”
“Shut up.” Draco said once they reached the Main Entrance and she glared at him. “Or—” he
stopped and studied her, “Don’t tell me the muggle-born know-it-all doesn’t know what a
Wizard Duel is.”
“Of course, I know.” She snapped and he grinned.
“Good. See you at the trophy room at midnight then. Let’s see if you have magic enough to
cast a spell or you only know how to read books.” He said mockingly and her glare
intensified. “We go separately so they don’t catch us. Don’t be late.” And with that, he
stalked off, his cronies behind him.
Hermione went straight to the common room, sure there must have been some book about it,
and she could learn about it before midnight. She didn’t have time to go to the library and
head back before curfew.
She almost ran to the mezzanine when the stone wall opened for her. Hermione started
pulling books out of the bookcase and going through them in search of anything.
“What are you doing?” A voice drawled behind her, and Hermione almost jumped.
“Theo.” She said. He had talked to her twice in the same day. She tried to make it a third.
“Do you know what a Wizard Duel is?”
Theo raised a single eyebrow at her and studied her with suspicious blue eyes. “Of course, I
know. Why do you want to know?”
“I found the expression in a book I was reading and didn’t understand.”
“Right.” He scoffed. “It’s a formal practice of combat. You have to face and bow to your
combatant before starting and then stand in a combative position. You can only use magic, of
course, only lesser wizards would think of using their hands.” He scowled at the thought.
“The goal is to overthrow your opponent, whether by submission or killing.” Her eyebrows
shot up in her forehead. “That’s why there are Seconds. To pick up the duel after the First
died or is incapacitated.”
“People die in those?”
“Of course. Why would the point be otherwise?”
“Of course.” She said sarcastically.
“Maybe you think punching and grappling your opponent like an animal is best, being a
muggle and all.”
“I’m not a muggle.” She snarled and shoved the books back into the bookcase. Hermione
made to leave but stopped, remembering her mother had raised her to be polite. “Thank you,
by the way.”
...
Twenty minutes before midnight, she snuck out of bed and silently put on her shoes, the
common room was empty and dark, there was no sign of Draco, she wondered if he had
already left. Luckily, she wasn’t spotted by any ghosts or Filch and tiptoed towards the trophy
room.
Draco wasn’t there yet, but Harry and Ronald were. “Hi,” she greeted Harry. Ronald scowled
at her, she ignored him.
“Where’s Malfoy?” Harry asked.

“He said to come separately so we wouldn’t be caught.” She said and Ronald scoffed. Only
then she noticed Neville there. Hermione looked around and the Trophy Room was different
in the dark. Every cup, shield, plate, and statue glimmered in creepy golden and silver light.
She refused to look long enough at the statues’ eyes.
“He’s late, maybe he’s chickened out,” Ron whispered.
Hermione felt her body grow cold. No. He wouldn’t. She thought, only that he absolutely
would. That stupid, arrogant, selfish—
A noise in the next room made them jump. “Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in
a corner.” Hermione opened her mouth and silent horror. Draco had done this on purpose.
The absolute bastard.
Harry waved madly for them to follow him, and they scurried silently toward the door.
“They’re in here somewhere.” Filch muttered, “probably hiding.”
“This way!” Harry mouthed and they began to creep down a long gallery full of suits of
armor.
“Why is she coming along?” Ronald half hissed, half-whispered, and she glared at him but
kept quiet, they could hear Filch getting nearer. Neville squeaked in fright and broke into a
run, only to trip and topple right into a suit of armor when Ronald tried to stop him.
“Great!” Hermione hissed uselessly. The clanging and crashing probably had woken up the
entire castle.
She shared a look with Harry and he seemed to think the same thing, because he yelled at
them to run and they sprinted down, not looking back to check if Filch was following and not
quite looking to where they were going.
They turned around the doorpost and went down one corridor after another, Harry was
leading and Hermione didn’t recognize any of the corridors they were passing through, she
doubted Harry could. Harry ripped through a tapestry and they found a hidden passageway,
the four of them quickly ushered into it and exited near the Charms classroom.
Hermione exhaled; her heart was almost pounding its way out of her chest.
“I think we’ve lost him,” Harry panted. Neville beside him was bent double, wheezing and
spluttering, Hermione fought the urge to tell him to keep quiet, fearing that Filch would find
them after all their running.
“Why is she still here?” Ronald hissed, “I bet this was her idea as well. A snake just like
Malfoy.”
Hermione rolled her eyes, “are you stupid? He tricked me just as he tricked you.” She
snapped. “Don’t you realize? He was never going to show up! I should’ve realized when he
said to go separately, he—”
Ronald scowled, “I see you are great mates with him already.”
“Let’s go.” Harry said and turned to go.
They hadn’t gone more than a dozen paces when Peeves came out of a classroom in front of
them. The poltergeist squealed in delight.
“Shut up, Peeves, please, you’ll get us thrown out.” Harry tried, it only made Peeves cackle.
“Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you’ll get
caughty.”
“Not if you don’t give us away, Peeves, please.” Hermione tried.
“Should tell Filch, I should,” he said, voice serious but eyes glittering wickedly. “It’s for your
own good, you know.”
“Please, don’t.” Neville cried.
“If you don’t tell. I will tell the Bloody Baron it wasn’t you who threw those bombs in his
portrait back in the dungeons.”
Peeves stopped. He looked at her and seemed to consider her offer. Ronald ruined it by taking
a swipe at him. “Get out of the way,” he snapped.
“STUDENTS OUT OF BED!” Peeves bellowed, “STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE
CHARMS CORRIDOR!”
Hermione felt her body going cold. They’d be caught, she’d get expelled, she wouldn’t be
able to learn magic and she’d have to return to the Muggle world and—Harry grabbed her
arm and pulled her along. They ran again.
They found themselves in a corridor without an end, just a door. Harry tried the knob, it was
locked.
“This is it!” Ronald moaned. “We’re done for! This is the end!”
Filch was coming, Peeves was yelling behind them. “Oh, please!” She snapped. “Move
over!” Pushing Ronald aside not so gently, she grabbed her wand and tapped the lock.
“Alohomora!” The lock clicked and the door swung open, Ronald almost ran her over in his
haste to enter.
They shut the door and held their breaths, trying to listen on the other side. “Which way did
they go, Peeves?” Filch was saying. “Quick, tell me.”
Peeves was making fun of Filch, cackling and leaving Filch cursing in rage.
“He thinks this door is locked,” Harry whispered. “I think we’ll be okay—get off, Neville!
What?”
Hermione knew what. She felt her legs become jelly and she ran through every single spell
she learned and read in the books, making their movements in her head, trying, hopelessly, to
find something that could help.
In front of them there was a dog, the biggest dog Hermione had seen. She felt so infinitely
small, looking up at its not one, but three heads. All three pairs of glinting eyes were looking
at them and each mouth was open and had saliva dripping and hanging from its fangs. They
had taken the Cerberus by surprise; this was the only reason why each mouth hadn’t taken
one of them as dinner.
Hermione looked at the beast from heads to toe, the paws were bigger than Greg’s head and
that was something. One of the Cerberus’ paws moved and Hermione saw what was
underneath it. A trapdoor.
Before she could see anything else, she fell backward, and Harry slammed the door shut.
Hermione blinked and then began to run back down the corridor, thankfully empty from
janitors and poltergeists.
They stopped running at the stairs, “are you going to be okay?” Harry asked.
“Yeah,” Hermione whispered, her eyes wide and her entire body shaking.
“Let’s go” Ron hissed and without another word, Hermione run down the stairs toward the
safety of her dungeons.
For the first time since arriving, Hermione thought of the dungeons as safe.
“Where were you?” Blaise demanded as soon as she rushed through the wall.
“I—” She started startled. She couldn’t tell him what she’d seen. That was the forbidden
corridor. Hermione understood now why it was called that.
“Draco was being smug, saying he’d gotten Potter out good and maybe if he were lucky,
we’d get cleaned as well—” Blaise was saying and amidst her heaving and remaining fright,
she saw red. “Then Theo mentioned you asking about duels and we went to check—” as he
mentioned Theo, she finally spotted him at the common room, sitting in one of the armchairs,
a book open on his lap.
“He tricked us. He called Harry for a duel at midnight, named me his second but—” she
stopped, fighting the growl threatening to escape. “He never intended to come. He did it on
purpose and I bet he tipped Filch off, that—”
“How could you fall for that?” Blaise scowled, “Obviously it was a trap!”
“I told you she had no place in Slytherin.” Theo tutted from his chair.
“Shut up Theo,” Blaise snarled, not even bothering to look at the boy, who only shrugged.
“Were you caught?”
“Of course not.” She said, not mentioning it was barely and almost suffered through
something worse than being caught.
“Good.” Blaise nodded, “this is what you are going to do.” He said, holding both of her
shoulders, making sure she was looking at him. “You are going to pretend nothing happened.
Come morning, let him believe you never left for his trap. You comment on him surviving,
after all, something ‘good that you didn’t need a muggle-born to save your ass.” Blaise said
and Hermione only nodded. “You get him on his own game. He won’t admit not going and
you will wipe that smirk out of him.”
She nodded again. “I like this plan.” She said, a smirk of her own.
“Salazar’s ball, you smirk like him.” Blaise said and he was grinning. “Let’s go to bed. I hate
when I can’t sleep for eight hours.”
Theo rolled his eyes as he got up from his seat, but he was looking thoroughly impressed. He
even offered a nod in Hermione’s direction.
...
Hermione did just that. She ate pleasantly, talked with Daphne, Tracey, and Blaise, and
ignored Draco’s contorted expression at seeing her and the Gryffindor boys that morning. She
greeted him just like Blaise had told her and watched with growing satisfaction, the boy
clenching his jaw and biting his lips.
It was a good morning and the rest of the week went similarly. Hermione found Harry on his
own on Saturday and they had a little catch-up on their lives.
“How are things back there?” He asked her.
“It’s good.” She said and grimaced a little, “it’s getting better. I keep winning us points and
they seem to forget about my heritage when they see our hourglass filling up. The girls are
great, only Pansy is still kind of a bitch, but it’s fine. Blaise is also very nice.”
Harry nodded and offered a smile. “I heard the twins mentioning something about you
probably having it bad with the snakes.”
“They keep me on my toes, that’s for sure.”
They talked a bit more and Harry told her about his conversation with Hagrid and about that
the vault he and the caretaker had visited was the same one someone tried to rob, and they
tried to guess what could be. “Ron said that it’s either really valuable or dangerous.”
“I hate to admit it, but he’s probably right. But Gringotts is really safe, nothing has ever been
stolen from there, they have hundreds of curses in their vaults.”
“Maybe Dumbledore thought Hogwarts was safer.”
“Maybe.” She concedes, “or maybe he just wanted it closer to him.” Hermione cocked her
head to the side, “you didn’t tell anyone about the dog, did you?”
“Nah, Neville wanted to forget all about it. I’m curious though. Why keep something like that
inside the castle?”
“You didn’t see?”
“What?”
“The dog was standing on a trapdoor. I think it’s guarding something. It only makes sense
you see, Dumbledore said the third corridor was out of bounds and had all that speech about
dying a painful death.”
“I agree with the painful death part, I thought each part of my body would end in one of that
thing’s mouths.”
Hermione liked studying and Harry liked Quidditch practice more, but it didn’t stop them
from striking a friendship. It felt like magic, the way she and Harry clicked. Something about
talking to him felt right and he was the only one in the castle who didn’t show reservations to
approach her. It was hard to get Harry on his own, as Ronald seemed to hang onto him like a
limb, but when they did, Hermione always left feeling a little bit lighter. At least twice a
week she and Harry would sit by the courtyard to talk and catch up. He told her how he’d
been invited to play seeker for Gryffindor and despite being excited, he was a little nervous.
That day they went to the trophy room again so Hermione could show him the quidditch cup
his father had won. “I think you will do alright.” She had said gently, and he smiled at her.
Her birthday came and went without a single word, she was never one of having big
celebrations, her birthdays were usually spent with her parents and her extended family. She
decided it was a good one when the entire day passed without a single slur at her and it didn’t
matter that the only ‘congratulations’ she got that day was from Professor Snape when her
potion was perfect. She counted it as her twelfth birthday present.
She had yet to talk to Draco since that night where he purposefully chose her to let her get
caught. He seemed to have taken personally that she was still in Slytherin. But just like Blaise
had said that first week: they didn’t know what they were missing. She had Blaise who also
enjoyed studying and every other day, Theo would join them, albeit silently. Hermione had
noticed that after that night they waited for her at the common room, the pair were on the
path to becoming friends, even Draco had warmed up to Blaise and she’d usually see the five
boys together. She wished she could tell him about the dog and the trapdoor, but with Blaise
spending most of his time with the other boys. She couldn’t risk it.
The weeks passed and coincidently, the older Slytherins who were more vocal about their
opinion of her, were also players on the Slytherin Quidditch team and had become busy with
practice and seemed to finally forget about her.
They were halfway through October when Hermione had become Professor McGonagall’s
favorite student and it made Hermione burst with pride. She was the only one who seemed to
perform the complicated wand gestures and understand the many formulas. Pansy called off
her game of Hermione is Invisible when she noticed it would be in her best interests to have
Hermione helping her in Transfiguration. On Halloween morning, all five girls left the
dungeons together and talked about their plans for the night all the way to the Charms
classroom.
Professor Flitwick put them into pairs and they finally began the practical part of the
levitation spell. Despite being difficult in the beginning, she managed the spell quite fast and
the tiny professor squealed in delight and awarded her a point. She grinned throughout the
whole class.
Hermione stayed behind after class, wanting to ask a few things to the professor and a warm
feeling inside her grew when Pansy asked if she didn’t want them to wait for her. She almost
said yes, wanting to enjoy the feeling of having friends, but shook her head and grinned at
them, saying that she wouldn’t take long.
On her way out, she heard Ronald before she saw him. “I don’t understand how you are
friends with her.”
“She’s nice.” Harry said and Hermione knew they were talking about her.
“Nice?” Ronald scoffed, “Sure, that’s why the rest of the Slytherins seemed glad to get rid of
her just now. You heard Parkinson talking about wanting Hermione to play tricks on the
Hufflepuffs with her.” He said, voice filled with malice. Hermione’s throat burned. She didn’t
realize that Pansy might have been pretending. That all of them might’ve. “I’m telling you,
Harry, no one in her house can stand her. Percy told me what he heard from the Slytherin
Prefects. She’s a nightmare, honestly.”
She had heard enough and when she felt tears against her cheeks, she pushed through them,
making sure to knock into Ronald as she went.
The last thing she heard before turning the corridor was Harry’s voice: “I think she heard
you.”
For the first time in her entire life, Hermione skipped class. She couldn’t make her tears stop
and the last thing she needed was to be seen crying by her classmates.
Hermione hid herself in the girls’ bathroom on the ground floor, near the dungeons, so she
could easily run to her common room when they left for the Halloween feast. She sniffed and
felt angry at herself for falling into their jokes yet again.
She could hear Blaise’s scowl in her head, his voice saying how could you fall for that?
Maybe Theo was right, maybe she didn’t have a place in Slytherin, maybe she didn’t have a
place in the castle at all.
“Who is there?” She heard someone ask and muffled her sniffs.
“Leave me alone.” She said from inside the toilet.
“Granger?” The girl asked and Hermione vaguely recognized the girl’s voice. She was in
Hermione’s year.
“I said leave me alone!” She snapped and waited for the retreating steps.
Halloween. Hogwarts. 1991
It was barely four in the afternoon and Severus felt that his day was already too long. Quirrell
had been incredibly suspicious since the beginning of the term. He had left last year as a quite
adept Muggle Studies teacher: no stutter whatsoever, no ridiculous hocus pocus, and
definitely no turban. Every time Severus managed to round him, he was met with a more
absurd story, and they seemed to bear no consistency.
Since the day Dumbledore called him to help create something to guard the philosopher’s
stone; Severus had twice caught him talking to Pomona asking her what she had done for her
part. Twice, Severus arrived in time to make Quirinus scatter.
He told Dumbledore about his suspicions and the man simply ordered to ‘keep an eye on him
Severus’ to the on-growing list of duties he already had. Now, added to keep an eye on
Hermione and Potter, he also had to keep an eye on the Defense professor. Severus didn’t
have three eyes. But he didn’t have a choice, not when his forearm burned wherever he got
too close to the professor.
Life seemed to be laughing at him because, for some reason, Hermione and Potter had
managed to befriend each other. He had seen them talking and laughing and it made his
insides churn. He knew this is what Lily would have wanted, but it only made Dumbledore
smile and his eyes twinkle in fascination. There are some bonds we can’t break as much as
we try, he had said, and Severus wanted to puke.
But it wasn’t so bad, Narcissa had been right. With Hermione in Slytherin and him keeping a
heavy eye on the happenings of the common room, he managed to stop things from getting
out of hand a few times. His desire was to hex every ass that had made her cry, but he had to
content himself with marking down a few assignments. He also marked up the Zabini’s boy
assignment, not that the boy needed, with the mother he had, his skills in Potions seemed to
run in the family. Severus had heard about the hair products his mother kept sending to
Hermione and how he helped her after his godson attempted to get Hermione in trouble.
However, things seemed to be looking up. Miss Parkinson removed her head out from her ass
and relationships between the first-year girls improved. The Nott boy seemed intent on his
social experiment and Severus couldn’t help but wonder what the father’s boy would do if he
knew his son was paying more attention to Hermione than to his studies.
Severus wanted the day to end, but he knew it was far from it. It was Halloween and Fred and
George Weasley hadn’t let a single one pass without causing mayhem in the three years
they’ve been at school. Severus had the forethought to even write a letter to Molly, it was
sitting on his desk just waiting to be sent.
One hour before dinner, while he was marking the fifth year’s dreadful assignments, his
office’s doors banged open. He looked up to see the worried faces of Parkinson, Greengrass,
Zabini, Nott, and Draco. He looked from one face to another and raised a single eyebrow in
question. “What’s the meaning of this?”
“Professor, sorry to barge in,” Draco started, and his grey eyes were huge. Severus felt
himself stilling in dread. “But Hermione is missing.”
If it weren’t for his heart lurching, he’d find ironic the choice of words, but as it was, he
placed his quill down and asked in a slow tone. “What do you mean, by missing?”
“She hasn’t been to any class since Charms in the first period.” Parkinson explained. “She
told us to go ahead because she wanted to talk with Professor Flitwick, but she never came to
Herbology and she wasn’t at lunch—” Severus had noticed her absence, “and she also missed
Defense and now she wasn’t at Transfiguration as well.”
“Tracey and Milli are looking for her,” Blaise said, and Severus noticed the way his jaw was
set. Another point to him then. “We think it might be a Halloween joke.”
“I cornered Vince and Greg, they told me it wasn’t them.” Draco said and Severus was so
surprised that he wasn’t sure he managed to hide it quick enough.
“They are too dumb for Hermione anyway.” Theo muttered and Salazar’s snake, Adeodatus
would probably lose the rest of his hair if he heard that.
“Hermione wouldn’t skip class, Professor.” Daphne said and that was completely true. “We
told Professor McGonagall Hermione wasn’t feeling well. Hermione would hate to have
McGonagall thinking she was skipping.”
“Go back to your dormitory.” Severus said, standing from his seat. “I want everyone inside
until dinner. If I see a single green robe outside the dungeons before dinner, I’m removing
fifty points. Do you hear me?” They all nodded. “Now go. I will find out what’s happening.”
Severus first called Elizabeth Burke’s portrait to see if she knew anything, only to learn that ,
unfortunately, she had missed any pleasantries that might have happened and had a similar
answer when he asked the Bloody Baron. Severus then rushed through the castle, rounding
up his students as he passed them. He went to the Charms corridor first and when he didn’t
find her, made a female ghost check inside the girl’s bathrooms near that. He dragged the
ghost with him to check the girl’s bathrooms while he looked in the library and the trophy
room. He climbed down the stairs to the courtyard, throwing human presence revealing spells
in corridors and classrooms that were supposed to be empty, his gaze flitting around. The bell
signaling dinner rang and frustrated, he marched towards the Great Hall in hopes of finding
her there.
He sat down on his usual seat and searched through the Slytherin table. Every student in his
house was looking at him and he knew at once that no one had seen her. His body stiffed and
he searched slit-eyed across the Hall for any missing student.
Quirinus came sprinting, his ridiculous turban askew and his face in blind terror. The whole
hall fell silent and watched him reach Dumbledore’s chair and slump against it. “Troll — in
the dungeons — thought you ought to know.” He gasped and apparently, Severus’ day hadn’t
been bad enough. Quirinus sank to the floor in a dead faint.
There was an uproar. Students screaming and it took Dumbledore several firecrackers to
bring silence. A troll. How on Merlin’s name did a troll get out?
“Prefects,” Dumbledore rumbled, “lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!”
The prefects started calling their students and Severus looked at his students, they were even
paler. The dungeons. Miss Farley was already trying to reach him.
“Go to the Chamber of Reception. I don’t want any of you outside that Chamber until I say
it’s safe to leave.”
“Yes, professor.” Miss Farley said and hesitated. “And Hermione, sir?”
His only response was to glare.
Dumbledore gathered the professors to follow him to the dungeons and when Severus looked
around, Quirinus was gone. He snarled and instead of following the other teachers, went
straight to the third floor.
He spotted the tail end of a cloak entering the room where Hagrid’s beast was and quickened
his pace.
“What exactly are you doing?” He asked, ignoring the burning sensation where his mark was.
Quirinus jumped and let out a squeak. The beast was growling, irritated to have been awoken.
“Pro-professor Snape!” Quirrell said in a high voice, turning around to face him. “Wh-what
are you do-do-ing here?” He squeaked and before Severus could answer, he saw the beast
making to get them and he pulled Quirrell aside, the man stumbled and fell against the wall.
Severus swirled his wand against the beast and it roared, one of its paws flung out and caught
him on the calf, he hissed and pulling Quirrell by the lapels, dragged them out of there and
locked the room again.
“You have quite a few explanations to give professor Quirrell.” Severus said and the man in
front of him was shaking.
A loud bang could be heard, followed by the sounds of something breaking. His heart
stopped for a second. Hermione. Severus pulled Quirrell along, dragging the man with him
towards the sound. They found Minerva on the way, just as a loud feminine shriek echoed in
the corridor and Severus’ legs were replaced by jelly, he staggered, his clawed calf wasn’t
helping any.
“Godric’s goodness,” Minerva murmured when the sound of a loud thud made the castle
tremble.
McGonagall was the first to arrive, she didn’t have a mangled leg nor was dragging another
teacher along. Severus stopped at the scene: Hermione, Hermione was standing there, hair
and clothes filled with debris and water, there was a cut on her left cheek and another one on
her wrist. He clenched his jaw and his stomach curled. Potter and Weasley were with her,
both of them looking as ragged as her. Quirrell took one look at the troll, let out a faint
whimper, and sat quickly down on a toilet, clutching his heart.
Severus went to examine the troll, bending over him.
“What on earth were you thinking?” Minerva said Severus didn’t need to look to know her
expression, the cold fury on her voice was enough. “You’re lucky you weren’t killed. Why
aren’t you in your dormitory?”
Severus turned to Potter, studying the boy. He chanced a quick glance at Hermione and
looked at the floor.
It was Hermione’s small voice that replied. “Please, Professor McGonagall — they were
looking for me.”
“Miss Granger! I heard from your classmates that you were sick—” Minerva said, Severus
noticed the girl’s eyes widening a little in confusion and surprise.
“I went looking for the troll because I—” she started, Severus felt a hand twisting his heart.
Hermione had the same tells when lying as Lily. “I thought I could deal with it on my own—
you know because I’ve read all about them.”
Weasley and Potter gaped at her and if he hadn’t known by the twirling of her hair and the
tapping feet, the downright lie would be clear by now. Minerva seemed to realize it as well.
Why was Hermione lying for them?
“If they hadn’t found me, I’d be dead now. Harry stuck his wand up its nose and Ronald
knocked it out with its club. They didn’t have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to
finish me off when they arrived.”
Severus gulped and searched again for anything that could tell him Hermione was more hurt
than he initially thought.
“Well— in that case...” Minerva started, clearly not believing it but rolling with it for some
reason. “Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on
your own?”
Hermione hung her head. Oh, no. “She’s my student to discipline, Minerva.” Severus drawled
and Minerva looked at him.
“Very well.” She said.
“Accompany me.” Severus said and the girl nodded.
He took her to his office and motioned to the chair in front of his desk. “Sit.” Severus forced
his hands to uncurl and remain on his sides. He wanted nothing more than to smooth them on
her hair and check if she was alright. He despised being a parent. An impotent, helpless,
good-for-nothing father. He reached on his shelf for a potion for simple cuts and bruises and
another for pain relief and sat down in front of her. “Where are you hurt?”
“I’m fine, I—" She started, her lips wobbling, and he saw tears forming on her eyes.
“Miss Granger, I’m going to ask one more time and I expect the honest answer this time.” He
said; his voice barely contained anger. A troll. That man had let out a fucking troll and his
daughter got caught up in it.
“I think I twisted my ankle,” Hermione mumbled, “and when the sink exploded, a few shards
cut my arm and cheek.”
He nodded and handed the pain relief to her. “Drink this. I’m going to fix your ankle first.”
Hermione nodded and downed the potion in one go, he watched her face contort due to the
taste and before she could catch him quirking up, he looked down on her leg. “If you excuse
me,” he said before reaching for her leg, she winced at the contact, “Episkey!” He cast and
Hermione gasped.
“What does this spell do?” She asked, voice curious.
Just like Lily, she couldn’t waste an opportunity to learn. “It’s a healing charm that fixes
minor injuries, like broken noses, fingers, and ankles.” Hermione nodded. He handed her the
other potion, and she drank it, soon the cut on her cheek disappeared. “Now, tell me why you
lied to Professor McGonagall.”
Hermione’s went as wide as saucers. “I didn’t—”
“You couldn’t have known about the Troll. Your friends came looking for me saying that you
were missing the entire day. Miss Parkinson told me she had last seen you at Charms. Miss
Granger, Charms ended at ten in the morning.”
“I—” she started and the tears in her eyes finally escaped. Severus gulped. “They were
looking for me?” Hermione asked instead.
“Yes.” He said and paused. She looked at him in disbelief. “Miss Parkinson, Miss
Greengrass, Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Nott, and Mr. Zabini almost knocked my door down in their
worry.”
“They did?” She asked again, Severus imagined she couldn’t see much, with the number of
tears pooled in her eyes.
“What is this about?” He asked, almost snapping.
“I thought—I heard—well, I thought they didn’t care.” She cried. “I heard Ronald saying I
was a nightmare and that they were all pretending to like me, that they—” She heaved, and
her entire body trembled, “That they despised me.” Severus felt his hands curling into fists
and he decided he was going to bad grade Weasley from here to graduation. “I didn’t feel like
seeing them and I hid. I spent the entire day in that bathroom, I—”
“Why did you lie for him, then?”
She blushed and bowed her head. “I thought—I thought we were going to be expelled and
since I didn’t belong—”
“Miss Granger.” He cut her off. “Don’t listen to Weasley.” He snapped. He was going to
write to Molly after all. “He has six siblings and the biggest achievement of his life so far has
been befriending Harry Potter.” He snapped and ignored how inappropriate that was. He
never cared; he wasn’t going to start now, not with his daughter. “He is jealous that Potter is
your friend.” Brother, his mind supplied. “You belong here as much as him.”
“Sly—”
“You belong to Slytherin. Your blood doesn’t change a thing. You are where you are
supposed to be.” He snapped and she nodded, cheeks still drenched in tears and rubble. He
twirled his wand and cleaned her; she didn’t seem to notice. “They aren’t pretending.” He
told her, “Slytherins don’t pretend, we aren’t made of the many layers of duplicity that make
the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws. We don’t have a problem with speaking our mind and I
know you know that by now.” She nodded.
He wanted to say so much more. Narcissa was wrong, it wasn’t better having her in his
house, it was absolute torture. He wanted to tell her that he was proud of her, he wanted to be
able to do more for her, he wanted to be a father, a good one, because he had a shit one and
he didn’t want that for her, he— “You are bleeding.” She murmured and he caught her eye
and saw her looking at his mangled leg.
He sighed. There were so many lies between the two of them, so many that Severus
shuddered when thinking about the day he’d have to come clean, yearning and dreading it in
equal parts. He decided to give her one truth. “What do you know about trolls Miss
Granger?”
“They are stupid. The falling grade in Hogwarts is because of their immense stupidity, but
they are dangerously violent and incredibly aggressive, engaging in unpredictable behavior.”
“Good.” He said, he was so proud. “So, tell me, how do you think a troll managed to be
roaming around in the dungeons?”
She looked at him and he saw those browns eyes of her thinking and saw the minute that she
reached an answer. “Someone let it out.”
“Exactly. Maybe it was a mistake, but maybe it was on purpose, meant to be a distraction.
There are some things in the castle that people might want to steal.”
She stilled and Severus saw her eyes widening in surprise. He took a single look at her eyes
and saw a flash of a three-headed dog and felt her panic. He jerked and got on his feet.
Hermione had found it. He schooled his face and returned the vials to his cupboard. Severus
willed his anger away, somehow his daughter had stumbled on the dog and came out
unscathed. He knew about the Headmaster deciding to test the Potter boy to see if he would
somehow fulfill his destiny and he thought, he foolishly thought that with Hermione in
Slytherin, she’d escape his clutches, but fate as the headmaster had said, made the two friends
and now Hermione already knew too much.
He returned to her and deciding to keep tonight’s events a secret from the old man, said, “I
don’t want to hear about this again. Any of it. Now, follow me.”
He took her with him to where the rest of the Slytherins were and the moment he opened the
door they all gasped at the sight of her.
Daphne and Blaise ran towards Hermione and pulled her into a hug. “Are you alright?”
Severus heard Blaise ask.
“We were so worried!” Daphne said.
Miss Davies and Miss Bulstrode joined in the hug and Miss Parkinson hovered beside them.
Draco and Theo were a little behind her. When Hermione looked up, he heard Pansy saying
“You ruined my Halloween. We were supposed to play a trick on the stupid Hufflepuffs!” At
that, Hermione burst into tears again.
“You can continue this in your common room. Let’s go.” Severus said and they followed him
back to their dungeons. He watched Hermione hold Daphne’s hand the entire way back.
round the tips of sharpened knives
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
It's like life imitating life

Constantly revolving round the tips of sharpened knives
It's like time draws a crooked line
Repeating shapes and patterns til it just can't be defined
Chapter Four
Halloween, 1991
Back in the Common Room, Hermione found herself in the center of attention as she told
them the events of the bathroom with the Troll and why she had disappeared the entire day.
Pansy listened to it all with a clenched jaw and furrowed brows. When the morning came, the
raven-haired girl vowed to make Ronald Weasley’s life at Hogwarts a complete hell.
From that day on, the majority of the Slytherin house changed. The jinxes stopped and they
didn’t throw slurs at her or made comments when she passed. If they still hated the idea of
her in Slytherin, they made it to talk about it whenever she wasn’t present. The older students
didn't care much about the younger ones, so they mostly ignored her, but when she was
studying with Tracey and Daphne, and Tracey called over a fifth year to help, they praised
Hermione's homework and her intelligence.
The Troll story became the topic of conversation of everyone in the castle, the Slytherin
students were all about spreading how Hermione had defeated it by herself and came
unscathed. Hermione caught Vince telling a group of first and second years Hufflepuffs how
she blasted a pipe and steered it so the water would strike the Troll on the face; when the
Gryffindors heard it, Ronald and the others were quick to tell how he had thrown sink after
sink with his bare hands at the troll until he collapsed.
She laughed throughout it all and told the true events of the night whenever someone came to
ask, but they much preferred Ronald’s version of Vince’s. The only thing that made the Troll-
talk fade was the upcoming Quidditch match on Saturday.
Hermione had snuck a Quidditch Through the Ages to Harry when she passed him between
classes one day and with all his practices and her homework and study groups, they barely
had time to exchange more than ‘how are you’s when passing. She still needed to tell him
about Professor Snape’s leg.
It was very cold on the morning of the first match. Hermione and the other Slytherins headed
to the field to watch it wearing their scarves and gloves and she saw that many of her
housemates were carrying the blue flames in a jar she had invented with Flitwick. The entire
school seemed to be on the stands, most of them supporting Gryffindor, making the
Slytherins a small patch of green around a sea of red and gold.
She found herself between Daphne and Theo, who had thrust a binocular in her hands as a
form of greeting. Theo was very inventive in his ways of communicating without having to
actually speak with her. He and Draco were the only two who still hadn’t budged, both kept a
safe distance from her as if she had some kind of contagious disease they might catch if they
stayed too close or God forbid, interacted with her.
The game was very violent, it was the first thing Hermione noticed. There was a lot of
pushing and hitting one another, not to mention the Bludger who was swerved into people’s
back without mercy from the Beaters. Gryffindor scored first, to the many howls and moans
of complaint from the Slytherin. Hermione had to close her eyes when a Bludger almost
knocked Harry off and then again when Marcus slammed into him. Draco and Pansy were
cheering.
Hermione had removed her binoculars, deciding that watching the game with them was too
much, but had to put them again when the murmuring started and Harry began to lurch. His
broom reminded her of those angry mechanical bulls Hermione had seen in a trip to Spain
with her parents, it was almost as if the broom was trying to dismount Harry. Many
Slytherins were laughing and everyone had stopped paying attention to the game to watch
what was happening.
“His broom is new, isn’t it?” She heard Theo asking Blaise.
“Only old brooms behave strangely and even then, it’s not as close as what his Nimbus is
doing,” Blaise said.
“This looks like Dark Magic,” Theo muttered and Hermione felt her heart in her throat. She
scanned the crowd with the binoculars, trying to see if anyone different caught her eye,
anyone that didn’t look like a student. “Why aren’t the teachers doing anything?” Theo said
and Hermione zoomed in to where the teachers were sat.
She found Professor McGonagall first, who had a grim look on her face and in the row above
her was Professor Snape who had his eyes fixed on Harry and was muttering nonstop under
his breath and on the row behind Snape, was Quirrell, who also had eyes fixed on Harry,
Hermione knew he wasn’t blinking, but she wondered if he was even breathing. She tried to
remember everything she knew about jinxes and what came first to her mind was: you must
always keep your eyes on the target.
Now, who was the one jinxing, and who was casting a counter curse? She didn't have time to
figure it out, Harry was dangling from his broom now, with only a hand holding onto the
handle. Hermione shoved the binoculars back to Theo, “I will be right back.” She said and
then started to fight her way to the teachers. She had to create some kind of distraction,
something to get both professors’ eyes away from Harry long enough for the jinx to break.
She raced along the rows and purposefully knocked on Professor Quirrell’s back, making him
fall headfirst in the row in front of him, she crouched behind the stands and cast her blue
flames on Professor Snape’s cloak, it took him a few seconds to realize what was happening
and when he did, she scooped the fire back in her jar and watched amusedly as Professor
Snape used Quirrell’s still facedown form to balance himself as he tried to put down the fire.
Hermione returned to her place in the stands just in time to see Harry catch the snitch and win
Gryffindor the game. Theo gave her a long look but didn’t say anything, she knew he
wouldn’t. She left with the rest of them in silence, thinking about what she did: she knocked a
teacher down and set fire to the other! If her mother knew this, she’d be horrified.
She wanted to talk to Harry, she desperately needed to tell him about what had happened and
about what Professor Snape had told her on Halloween, so while her friends were
complaining and saying how unfair it was to have lost the first match of the season, she
quickly hung back and then slipped away to catch Harry.
Hermione found him and Ronald heading back with Hagrid and ran to catch up with him.
“Harry!” She called and grinned at him when he turned around and stopped to wait for her.
“Congratulations.” She said.
“Thank you.” He said with another grin, “your house lost though.”
“There will be other games.” She said with a shrug and told him: “Your broom was being
jinxed.”
“What?” He asked, the grin gone from his face.
“Yeah,” she said as she crossed the threshold of Hagrid’s hut. It was the first time she’d been
there, and she had to control her face to not react to the strong smell. Hermione knew Pansy
and Draco would have made a fuss. Hagrid was serving them tea when she spoke again. “To
cast a jinx, you need to look straight at your target, you have to keep your eyes fixed on it.
During the game, when your broom started behaving oddly, Theo said that it looked like Dark
Magic—”
“He would know everything about Dark Magic.” Ronald scoffed on his tea and Hagrid
nodded. Hermione caught him and he tried to hide it with an exaggerated cough.
“Lad’s right though.” Hagrid said, “Can’t nothing interfere with a broomstick except
powerful dark magic.”
“I started searching for someone in the crowd and I spotted both Quirrell and Snape holding
their gaze on Harry, I think it was one of them—”
“Rubbish,” Hagrid said, at the same time Harry and Ronald exclaimed:
“It was Snape!”
Hermione looked at both boys, they seemed so sure. “Why would Snape do something like
that?” Hagrid asked.
Harry looked at Ronald and then at Hermione. “I found out something about him,” Harry
said. “I couldn’t tell you before,” he told Hermione, “Snape tried to get past that three-headed
dog on Halloween. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it’s guarding.”
Hermione knew that. She had heard it from Professor Snape herself. But how did Harry
know? Hagrid dropped the teapot.
“How do you know about Fluffy?” Hagrid asked.
“Fluffy?” Harry asked.
“Yeah, he’s mine, bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las’ year— I lent him to
Dumbledore to guard the—” the trio was seating on the edge of their seats, just waiting for
the rest when he stopped.
“Yes?” Tried Harry.
Hagrid’s expression closed. “Now, don’t ask me anymore,” he said gruffly. “That’s top-
secret, that is.”
“But Snape’s trying to steal it,” Harry stressed and Hermione shook her head.
“Rubbish,” Hagrid said again. “Snape’s a Hogwarts teacher, he’d do nothin’ of the sort.” But
someone else would, thought Hermione.
“Quirrell, then? He was also keeping eye contact. I know a jinx when I see one Hagrid, I’ve
read all about them! I told you, neither was blinking!”
“Quirrell can barely teach a class!” Ronald said
“I’m tellin’ yeh, yer wrong!” Hagrid said hotly. “I don’ know why Harry’s broom acted like
that, but Snape or Quirrell wouldn't try an’ kill a student! Now, listen to me, all three of yeh
— yer meddlin’ in things that don’ concern yeh. It’s dangerous. You forget that dog, an’ you
forget what it’s guardin’, that’s between Professor Dumbledore an’ Nicolas Flamel—” He
stopped. Hermione grinned. She looked at Harry, he was grinning as well.
“Aha! So, there’s someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?”
Hagrid mumbling furiously, kicked the three out of his hut.
“Why do you think it’s Snape?” Hermione asked as they made their way back to the castle.
Harry told her in whispers about what he had seen at Filch’s office. “But I knew that as well.”
She said and Harry widened his eyes, “I was trying to tell you that, but I couldn’t find time,
we only see each other on Fridays at Potions, and I wouldn’t risk gossip about Snape with
him there.”
“You wouldn’t risk gossiping in any class,” Ronald said and Hermione noticed it was lacking
his usual scorn, it was almost playfully. Maybe fighting a Troll together had changed a few
things.
“Anyway, when he took me to his office after the troll, I saw him bleeding and when I
mentioned it, he asked me what I knew about trolls and I said I knew they weren’t very
bright. He told me a troll wouldn’t be able to escape on its own, that something would have
to set it free on purpose. He said it would make a very good distraction and that there are
some things in the castle that people would want to use the distraction to steal them.”
“See! He even confessed!” Harry said.

“No—” Hermione said, “it didn’t sound like that, it sounded like he went straight to Fluffly to
see if anyone would try to steal it.”
“He’d want you to believe that, and throw the blame on someone else, he can’t have someone
suspecting him, can he?” Ronald asked and Harry nodded.
“I don’t know, it doesn’t sound—”
“He hates me, Hermione! You’ve seen it!” Harry said, “there’s something fishy about him, I
just know it.”
They parted ways after that, and Hermione went back to her common room where the rest of
her house was gloom with defeat. Marcus took a single look at her and snarled, “came back
after celebrating the win with your best friend Harry Potter? Quite a traitor you are.”
“I was doing no such thing.” She said as she passed, not wasting time and wanting to check
on their small library in the mezzanine. “Snarl at Terrence if you must, he was the one who
didn’t catch the snitch even with Harry dangling from his broom for twenty minutes.” She
snapped and caught Blaise smirking. She felt a little bit better when Marcus kept quiet.
Hermione soon found that she wasn't the only one who decided to have some quiet in the
Mezzanine. “Who was it, then?” Theo asked as a greeting, he didn't raise his head from the
book and she only knew he had talked to her because she was the only other person on the
mezzanine.
“I don’t know what you are talking about.” She replied and started looking through the
books.
“Fine.”
Hermione decided on a book and sat down on the armchair opposite to him. They read.
November passed in a blur, people were excited about the holidays approaching and the
castle had become almost entirely covered in snow. Hermione and Harry had decided to try to
look for Nicolas Flamel and who he might be. They searched in the library together when
they could and she also went by herself, just like Harry and Ron did when they had the time.
So far, nothing had come up, she even tried to ask Flitwick if he could sign her a slip so she
could search in the Restricted Session, but he had said nothing she’d need would be found
there. And he was her best choice.
As the weeks passed, she watched Professor Quirrell, who seemed to be stuttering more and
more with even passing day, his explanations were subpar and his class downright boring.
Hermione much preferred and learned more from the dueling club and the Actual Defence
Club that had been formed in the last week of October. She also watched Professor Snape and
he was the same: extremely rigid, actually mean to the Gryffindors, especially Ron, Harry,
Neville, and Seamus. But since Harry was certain it was Professor Snape, she paid attention.
On the first day of December, Pansy came down for breakfast announcing that her birthday
was in fifteen days and she’d hex whoever forgot to congratulate her. That announcement
made them talk about birthdays and an uncomfortable silence filled the table when Hermione
said hers had been back in September. She tried to wave off Daphne’s and Tracey’s
exasperated reaction, telling them it was okay. Theo, for reasons that escaped her, glared and
looked at her with furrowed eyes for the remainder of the day.
Mid-December, the teachers began decorating the castle: Hagrid was often seen carrying
huge Christmas trees around the grounds and Flitwick putting up decorations around the
castle. Their common room had become icy cold and even with all their fireplaces lit and
Professor Snape coming to cast heating charms in their dormitory every night, they spent
most of their time in the dungeons with mist on their breath. Hermione was so glad she had
become good friends now with the girls because they started to stay huddled together near the
fire, arms linked, trying to share heat. Everyone in Slytherin had one of what the entire castle
was calling Hermione’s Blue Fire. It had become so popular that Professor McGonagall had
awarded her thirty points.
One week before Christmas break, Draco had started to go on and on about his family Yule
Ball that would be happening after Christmas. Hermione learned it was a big thing because
the girls were whispering about it and Tracey and Milli were wondering if they’d be invited.
Pansy and Daphne had been attending it since they were nine and even without being able to
stay in the same room as the adults for most of it, only had wonderful things to say about it.
Hermione saw a few people start sucking up to Draco even more, in hopes to get an invitation
that way, his only reply was that only the most refined and respected wizards and witches
attended his family’s ball. Hermione knew she wasn’t going to be invited.
She tried not to be upset about it and think that she’d see her parents again and tell them
everything she’d been learning so far. Hermione had been writing, but her parents didn’t
know how to use owl and so she never got any reply to her letters.
Two days before the day they’d be leaving for home, an envelope came for her in the
morning owl. It was the same black envelope with silver writings, everyone, around her and a
few others had received.
Draco, who was sitting in front of her was glaring at the envelope in her hand. She knew at
once what it was.
Hermione’s name was written on the back. Daphne’s beside her had Daphne Greengrass in
silver, while hers only had Hermione. She opened it and with fancy writing read,
Miss Hermione,
Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy request the honor of your presence at the highly esteemed and
prestigious 17th Annual Yule Ball
To be held on the twenty-seventh of December, at seven o’clock in the evening

At Malfoy Manor
The dress code for the event is green and silver formal attire
To accommodate your particular circumstances, this invitation will become a single portkey
trip straight to the Malfoy Manor on the date and time of the event.
She had been invited. Not only that but she’d also had been given a way to arrive at the
Manor magically. The thing about Draco was, he liked to boast, loud and clear to whoever
was around, regardless of who’d listen. She’d known the only way to arrive at the manor was
by magic, Draco’s house was filled with wards repelling muggles and she had figured, if for
some miracle, she was invited, she couldn’t ask her father to drive her there as he did in the
only birthday party Hermione had been invited to. She knew about the many kinds of wizard
transportation: broom, apparition, Floo, and portkey. Brooms were out since the Quidditch
game, Hermione had no interest in flying in that thing after watching Harry dangle from it;
apparition she’d only be allowed to learn once she turned seventeen; it was against the law to
connect a muggle fireplace to the Floo network and portkeys were regulated by the ministry.
“Green and silver!” Pansy exclaimed, “I will have to owl mother immediately to get me a
dress.”
“I’m sure mother can get us the prettiest dresses if we ask her,” Daphne said, her eyes already
far, probably thinking on her dress.
“I always wanted a reason to shop at your mother’s shop Daph!” Milli gushed, “now I can
finally ask father for a dress.”
A dress. Hermione had never had a reason to buy a formal dress, much less one along with
the wizard standards, she knew most of her friends in her year were ridiculous rich, with
vaults filled with old money. Hermione knew about Daphne’s mother’s shop; she knew it was
a high-end shop with branches in Italy and France.
As much as she wanted to go, she couldn’t help but feel a little unsuitable and unrefined, as
Draco had said. She barely knew magic, eating every single book in the library was not the
same thing as attending a ball with only the more influential wizards and witches, with
people who had generations of the magic behind them. A ball with witches and wizards who
probably shared the same views as the rest of her house. She didn’t see any black envelopes
being delivered to the other tables. Her stomach churned in insecurities and she bit her
bottom lip wondering if she’d have the same safety she had in the castle. Her housemates
defended her from the other houses, she doubted they’d defend her from their families.
Hermione put the invitation away and pretended that her stomach wasn’t turning, and her
knees didn’t feel like rubber as she laughed at the girl’s dresses ideas.
Draco was in a terrible mood the entire day; he would have gotten into a fistfight with Ron if
it weren’t for Snape appearing at the stairs right on time and ducking points from Gryffindor.
“What was it that you said about muggles fighting like animals?” She whispered to Theo,
who had been watching the scene a couple of meters from them. Theo glared at her and left,
joining Draco, Vince, and Greg.
She spent the day searching for more information about Flamel and yet again had no success.
They were in the library, Ronald was a few rows behind them, pulling books out at random,
she wasn’t sure he’d find anything in Greatest Plants and their Uses, but she used the
opportunity to talk to Harry on her own.
“Are you staying in the castle, right?” Hermione asked.
“Yeah,” Harry said, “are you going home?” Hermione nodded, “Parvati and Lavender were
all gushing about some kind of party Malfoy’s family throw for Christmas.” He said and
Hermione only made a sound of consent, “Were you invited?”
“I was, but I don’t know if I’m going,” she confessed, “it seems—” she stopped and sighed,
“too much if I’m honest. I’ve barely been accepted in Slytherin, I don’t think I’d be very
welcomed in a ball thrown by the Malfoy Family. Draco has yet to say a word to me. I mean,
aside from being mean. He clearly was displeased when he saw I got an invitation.”
“I don’t understand how you cannot hate him.” Harry said, shaking his head, “I only have one
class with him and can avoid him whatever I want, but I still hate him. And I thought Dudley
was bad.”
Hermione chuckled, “he’s not that bad.” Harry raised a brow at her in disbelief, Hermione
chuckled again, “I still have to meet his good side, but Blaise said so, and Blaise is very nice,
I trust him.”
Harry clearly didn’t believe her, and Hermione didn’t bother to say anything else, Draco
didn’t deserve it. “Well,” he shrugged, “if you want a reason to go that has nothing to do with
balls and everything to do with what the dog’s guarding—” he stopped and Hermione
furrowed her brows, “Nicolas Flamel wasn’t in Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century, or
Notable Magical Names of Our Time, or Important Modern Magical Discoveries, and A
Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry.” He cited, counting them off on his fingers, “but
I learned in Notable Magical Names of Our Time that the Malfoy Library is the most
extensive library in Britain. If Nicolas Flamel is in any book, I bet this book is there.” He
winked at her and she grinned.
“I think I will have to find out.”
The next morning, another surprise came for her during breakfast. Two owls dropped on her
lap a parcel, prettily wrapped in pastel green, a letter tucked into it. She opened the letter first.
Dear Hermione,
A gift,
Don’t open at the table.
She showed the letter to Daphne, who was beside her and the letter was passed around the
girls. “Well, let’s go to the common room see what it is, then,” Tracey said.
“Wait, Hermione!” Greg called, “you said you’d check my homework before I gave it to
Flitwick.”
“Honestly Greg,” Pansy said, rolling her eyes. “What are you going to do if she checks it
now? You don’t have time to redo it anyway. It’s better to go unaware than to know you
messed up. That’s what I think.”
Greg grimaced and Vince, who was still stuffing his mouth only shrugged. “I will help you
next time,” Hermione said and the boy nodded glumly.
The five girls rushed back to their dorm and down the corridor to their dorm. They all
huddled together on top of Hermione’s bed.
“Salazar’s balls this place is freezing,” Milli complained and Hermione could only agree.
She ripped the wrapper paper and Daphne gasped first at the package. “It’s from my mom’s!”
Hermione’s brows furrowed in confusion and opened it, revealing a beautiful forest green
dress, Hermione pulled it out from the box, revealing the dress completely.
“It’s so beautiful!” Tracey cried.
And it was. The bust part was long-sleeved and in lace, with small flowers embroidered in it;
the gown was puffy tulle, the same forest green of the bust, with silvery voile underneath.
“You are going to look like a princess!” Daphne said, “I can’t wait to see what mother
separated for me!”
“It’s—” Hermione couldn’t find words to describe it, she wasn’t one to care much about
dresses, or clothes in general, she couldn’t understand most of Daphne and Pansy’s
conversations about fashion and colors, but she knew expensive when she saw it. “I don’t
know who could have sent it,” Hermione said.
The girls looked between the dress and Hermione, only then seeming to remember something
important: Hermione didn’t have anyone who could have sent this dress.
“Put it back on the box,” Pansy said, hand in her chin.
“You don’t think it could be cursed, do you?” Daphne asked, crossing her arms. “My
mother’s clothes are extremely expensive, and they have charms preventing any piece from
being cursed.”
“I don’t know Daph! Don’t you think it’s weird? Hermione is a muggle-born! Her parents
couldn’t have sent it to her! They wouldn’t even know this shop existed!” Pansy said, “and
the timing too! She got a dress in the morning after the invitations were sent. I wrote to mum
yesterday and she hasn’t even written me back, I hardly believe a dress like this, in her size
and matching the dress code of the party would be ready this quickly.”
“Why would people curse clothes?” Hermione asked, her brain had stopped in that bit of
information.
“Men,” Pansy rolled her eyes in exasperation. “There have been cases of dresses and other
pieces of clothing being gifted to women and when they put it on, some kind of lust charm is
activated.”
Hermione’s stomach twisted in disgust. “We are only eleven! Why would—” Milli stopped
midsentence, her face turning in revulsion.
“I can write mom.” Daphne said, “ask her who bought it, she will know.”
“Take it to Snape.” Pansy said, “he will be able to check if there’s anything weird on it. I
don’t like it.” She said, side-eyeing the box, the dress now back inside it. “You were invited
to the Malfoy ball, no offense, but no one thought you would be. One day later a dress arrives
for you without a name? It looks like—” she stops midsentence, grimacing, Hermione
noticed that Milli was looking at her shoes instead of her.
It looks like someone didn’t like that Hermione was invited, she thought. Hermione nodded.
They left the box in the room and went to Charms; Hermione’s mind was trying to make
sense of what they had said. She had heard of drugs in the muggle world, of course, one of
their neighbors last year had overdosed on speedballs and since then her mother had taught
her the dangers of accepting anything from strangers. Hermione didn’t realize the magical
world would have something similar to being roofied.
Both morning classes went in a blur, Hermione’s mind was far, far away, thinking about the
dress back in her dormitory and who could have sent it and why. When Quirrell’s class
ended, she went back to her room during the break before lunch to grab and take it to
Professor Snape as Pansy had suggested.
“Come in,” she heard after knocking.
“Sorry to bother you, Professor,” Hermione said and he motioned her to come forward. There
were still a few cauldrons on the tables, and he was bottling up some potions. “I received this
during breakfast.” She said, showing him the box. “But my parents are muggles, they
couldn’t have sent it to me. Pansy thinks it may be cursed, someone who wasn’t pleased with
me being invited to a Malfoy ball.”
“Miss Parkinson is well aware of the people in her world,” Snape said and turned to her.
“Was there any note?”
“Just this one,” Hermione replied, handing the letter to him.
“Miss Parkinson was right. You did well in coming to me, you shouldn’t trust gifts from
strangers, especially expensive ones. Two points to Slytherin for quick thinking.” He handed
the letter back to her, “but there’s nothing wrong with this dress. I know who sent it.”
Hermione’s eyes widened at that. “The person foretold this situation apparently and told me
in advance. You are going to meet them at the ball. It really is just a gift.”
“Oh,” Hermione looked at the box in her hands. “Why would they want to give this to me? I
didn’t think the people invited would like someone like me.”
Snape looked at her and she noticed that there wasn’t any of his usual animosity whenever he
looked at the Gryffindors. “Think of them as a fancier dressed Slytherins.”
...
Hermione hugged Harry and wished him Merry Christmas after breakfast before going with
the others to the train. The trip back was spent pleasantly, she and the girls shared a
compartment, while the boys shared the one next door. They were being boys, yelling and
laughing and making a ruckus out of their exploding snap game.
They all separated on the platform and Hermione crossed the pillar back to muggle London
already missing the magical world.
“Mum!” She greeted upon seeing her mother on the other side. “Dad!” Her father pulled her
into a hug.
“I missed you girl.”
“I missed you too! I’ll show you how to write back over the holidays, so we can’t talk once
term starts again.”
The drive back to her house was spent with Hermione retelling everything that had happened
to her since the first moment she stepped on the castle, her parents only stopping to ask a few
questions about things they didn’t understand.
“My God, Hermione, it seems very dangerous in the castle.” Her mother said after she told
the story about the troll on Halloween.
“Of course, not!” Hermione said, “It was my fault that I wasn’t where I was supposed to be!
And the teachers got there right in time, too.”
“And I don’t like to hear about this boy,” her father said, “I don’t want any pretentious kid
looking down on my daughter just because he was fed with a silver spoon all his life!”
“And the other one, too!” Her mother said, shaking her head in the front seat.
“Oh yeah! Making you cry! What business an eleven-year-old has in calling you evil? No,
no. It sounds no good to me.”
Once in her room, she unpacked her things and pulled a few heavier sweaters and stockings
to take it back to the castle with her, because winters in the Scottish Highlands were no joke.
It was good, being back home, but Hermione still felt that something was missing, maybe it
was the weight of her wand, which she left inside her trunk; maybe was the silence, now that
she wasn’t sharing a room with four other girls and most of her days with hundreds of other
children.
Hermione listened to her father's stories about his patients and when she showed him a few
wizard sweets, he spent the rest of the day muttering something about cavities under his
breath. Her mother filled in with the story they had told her relatives about her boarding
school and when her aunt stopped by a day before Christmas, Hermione told Aunt Cecilia
everything about her all-girls school.
Two days before Christmas, Hermione convinced her mother to drive down to London so she
could buy her friends Christmas presents and she managed to sneak a trip to Diagon Alley to
send them via owl. She got Harry, Ron, Vince, and Greg chocolate frogs and other muggle
sweets; Daph, Pansy, Milli, and Tracey got a charm bracelet each and she got a muggle book
to Blaise: Good Omens. She knew he had enough sense of humor to enjoy it. She didn’t get
anything for Theo and Draco.
On Christmas morning, she came down to find the Christmas tree filled with gifts. “Why are
there so many?” She asked. Her parents usually gave her one present each and between her
grandparents, her aunt, and uncle, there was never more than half a dozen of parcels beneath
the tree.
“Your father and I came down to put them under the tree and we found a dozen owls perched
on the windows. They are from your friends, I imagine.” Hermione grinned.
Sitting on the floor next to her parents, she opened her presents. Her father got her the first
and second book of Howl’s Moving Castle, saying “now you know what’s true and what’s
fake” and winking at her. Her mother got her fifty pounds, “so you can choose a couple of
books from that bookshop.”
Blaise gave her a set of quills and ink in different colors, Pansy got her a book called Witches
in Power, Daphne got her another book, this time a novel; Milli and Tracey got her a gift card
to Flourish and Blotts. Surprisingly, she had a gift from Theo and one from Draco. Theo’s gift
was a book called The Missing Sister, it didn’t look new and it even had a few pages marked;
Draco’s gift was a very beautiful pair of hair clips. Hermione thought it matched perfectly
with her dress.
On Boxing Day, Hermione told her parents about the Yule Ball she had been invited to and
asked if she could go. Of course, she didn’t tell them the ball would be at the pretentious
boy’s house and when her mother asked what she would wear, Hermione showed them her
dress and might have said in a way that her parents believed was given by Daphne’s mom.
Her mother helped her with her hair—not that she needed much help now that she has been
using Blaise’s mum products for months, and clipped Draco’s gift on her hair. On her wrist
was her own charm bracelet, her charm was a book, obviously.
“God Hermione,” Her mother gasped, “you look wonderful.”
“Thanks.” She said and felt herself blushing. She did look really nice.
“I’ve never been this fancy my entire life.” Her father said, “not even in our wedding, Love.”
He joked and her mother swatted at him. “How are you getting there? I don’t suppose you
need me to drive you.” Her father asked.
“No,” she shook her head, “the invitation will become a portkey—a magical method of
transportation when it’s time for me to go. I just need to be holding it.”
“Are you spending the night?” Her mother asked, “if this thing is starting at seven, I don’t
think it will end early. Do these people know you are only twelve?”
“They are aware mum.” She said, “and I don’t know, really. But I think I probably will. I will
let you know.”
They still had a few minutes until seven and Hermione and her parents stood in their living
room. All windows were carefully drawn to keep any muggles from peering inside and
seeing a girl holding a long stick of wood disappear. Exactly at seven, Hermione felt
something like a hook pulling somewhere behind her navel, and her living room disappeared.
It was a very strange sensation and Hermione felt slightly nauseous as she felt her body
twisting in space. She arrived at the foyer of Malfoy Manor on her bum.
“You did better than me.” a man in dark green robes said beside her. Hermione quickly got up
to her feet and arranged her dress. “I arrived nose first.”
“Mr. Bagman, welcome!” A voice said and Hermione saw Narcissa Malfoy approaching
them. She wore an absolutely stunning silver gown. As she walked, Hermione saw its small
stones shimmering against the light, Hermione wondered if it were diamonds or other crystals
almost as shiny. “Lucius was asking about you already.”
“Mrs. Malfoy, you look absolutely charming as always. It’s a pleasure. I must go then, can’t
leave Lucius waiting.” The blond wizard said and with a polite nod to both of them, left.
“I knew this dress would look absolutely stunning on you,” Narcissa said and Hermione felt
her eyes widening in surprise.
“Oh!” She said dumbly and blushed, “thank you so much, Mrs. Malfoy. I loved it, really, you
didn’t need to, I—”
“Don’t worry my dear,” Narcissa said, placing a hand delicately on Hermione’s left cheek. “It
was my pleasure. Your friends are already here, you can go find them in the ballroom. It’s the
double door behind the main staircase. I’m afraid I have to stay here for now, while I wait for
all the guests, the downside of hosting an event, I suppose.” Narcissa said, her face didn’t
show any annoyance at having to host, on the contrary, she looked quite pleased with her
herself.
“Thank you for inviting me,” Hermione said with a smile and the woman smiled warmly at
her.
Hermione walked towards the ballroom and had to bite down on the inside of her cheeks to
keep from gasping at the sheer size of the house. Manor was indeed an appropriate name.
The staircase in the middle was actually two beautiful curved ones that met in the middle on
the second floor, it had no landing and its banister and balusters were most likely gold,
alongside the balusters there were little fairy lights and upon taking a closer look, it was
indeed fairy lights, tiny fairies twirling around. On top of the stairs, hanging from the second
floor was a massive and obscenely ornated chandelier, with ridiculous, twinkly crystals that
flickered thousands of colors and were enchanted to have snow falling from it. Hermione
thought she might crack her neck with how much she was craning to look at it.
She crossed the doors to the ballroom and again was gobsmacked with everything. The
ballroom was a wide, high ceilinged sumptuous oval room. Hermione had visited the
Versailles Palace with her parents last year for their summer holidays and the Malfoy Manor
ballroom had the same old-French style to it. There were statues in the corners and three
chandeliers adorned the room; there were cream marble columns spread around the room,
holding a balcony on the second floor. The walls were of a dark oak paneling that opened in a
stained-glass window on the opposite side of the room.
When Hermione was about to begin looking at the decoration, Theo suddenly appeared in
front of her, looking slightly panicked. “What are you doing here?” He hissed and began
pulling on her arm, quite forcefully, and dragging her out of the room.
“Ouch!” She said and tried to break free from his hold, “you are hurting me!” She said.
“If he sees you—” he said, eyes frantically looking around in the crowd.
“Hey!” She heard and found Blaise coming in quick steps in their direction, “what are you
doing? Let go of her, Theo.”
“You don’t understand,” Theo hissed again, and his blue eyes were wide. “He—”
“Theodore.” A voice called behind them when they were by the doors of the ballroom.
Hermione, who was looking at Theo, saw pure panic flashing through his eyes.
“Get her out of here now Blaise. I will send Pansy when—”
“Are these your friends from school?” The man asked and before Hermione could look
behind Theo’s shoulders, Blaise gave a curt nod and pulled her inside an adjacent door.
Blaise closed the door, leaving only a small crack open. “Father.” Hermione heard from the
other side. “No.” Theo made a small pained sound. “Yes. That was Blaise Zabini. He’s from
school, he and his mother came to England—”
“Zabini, you say? I know of his mother. The woman has been killing off her husbands since
her first left her with a child. Every time she gets richer.” Theo’s father said and Hermione
saw Blaise stilling beside her. She didn’t say anything when his grip on her arm tightened.
“Father.”
“A pureblood family, nonetheless. I don’t know of her views, but we could always trust the
Italians. You didn’t write about him, aren’t you friends? And who was that girl?”
There was a pause and Theo’s voice was slightly quivering when he spoke again. “As you
said, we don’t know their views, I decided it was best to keep my distance for now, and what
girl?” He asked. “The one with him? I don’t know her. I think she’s his relative or something
like that, she doesn’t go to Hogwarts, I think she goes to Beauxbatons.”
“Ombrelune, I hope.” His father said with a sneer.
“I wouldn’t know.” Theo said, “but let’s go. He was taking her for air, her mother passed
away and she’s staying with the Zabinis for the holidays.”
Theo’s father scowled, “Weak character right there Theodore. Death is—” Hermione and
Blaise couldn’t hear the rest of his sentence as their voices grew smaller as they walked away.
Hermione shared a glance with Blaise. She was certain her expression mirrored Blaise’s.
Theo’s entire character made a lot more sense now.
“Let’s find a place to hang around while we wait,” Blaise said, his expression was still a little
tense, probably still upset about the comment on his mother.
The room they were in seemed to be the drawing-room. There were a couple of dark green,
almost black velvet chaises, as well as a large fireplace on one side and a dining table on the
other side. The flooring was dark while the marble on the columns and the walls were of the
same cream color as the ballroom.
Blaise didn’t stop in that room, choosing to cross the room and open the door opposite to
where they entered. “Now it’s getting interesting.” He said with a grin.
“Should we be in here?” She asked and looked around; it was a music room. There was a
grand piano in the middle, as well as several other instruments, including a beautiful harp.
“If we shouldn’t, soon an elf will pop asking us to leave.” He said with a shrug and sat down
on the piano bench. Hermione came to sit next to him.
Blaise ran his fingers through the key without making a sound, almost as if testing the keys in
his memory.
“Blaise,” she called quietly, “I think Theo was protecting me.” She said something that was
on her mind since the initial shock of being grabbed and dragged around dissipated.
“He was. Theo’s not so bad after all, is he?” Blaise asked with a small smile. “I’ve heard of
his father, of course. I think everyone in the magical world has.” He said and his fingers
finally played a few keys. “You’ve heard of You-Know-Who, haven’t you?” Hermione only
nodded, “They were classmates, Theo’s father and him. People say he was You-Know-Who’s
first follower.”
“What? I thought Voldemort was very old when he died.”
“Don’t say his name,” Blaise said automatically, “especially not in here. They call him the
Dark Lord, no one speaks the name. He wasn’t very old, fifty-five at most. I know Theo’s
father is in his mid-sixties. People, his people don’t believe he’s dead, just gone for now and
he’s waiting to return.” Blaise spoke as he played, Hermione chilled to the bones.
“The views, he was talking about,” Hermione started, “it has to do with me, hasn’t it?”
“Yeah. You’ve seen it. They must have learned it somewhere, right?” He asked, “Draco,
Theo, Vince, Greg, Pansy, and Milli. Mother says all of their fathers were part of You-Know-
Who’s circle. I don’t remember much of mother’s third husband, but he was a British chap
with similar views, that’s how she met Draco’s mother. And Hermione, they are a bunch of
prejudiced people, we lived here for a year while they were married, I heard a few things,
saw others, it’s—” he shook his head as if trying to erase his memory. His playing stopped.
He turned to her. “I’m black, Hermione. Only one percent of Italy’s population consists of
black people, when we talk about the magical community, the number is literally two.
Mamma and me. I know prejudice, I know racism; I came here prepared to deal with white
aristocrats and everything that entailed. Fortunately, the British wizard community cares
more about blood than skin color. Especially the Slytherins. I have to admit, it was also
fortunate that you came and stole the show.”
Hermione grimaced, “you are welcome.”
Blaise let out a small laugh, “I surely am. I think you noticed anyway; Theo has been
watching us since the first day. After what just happened, I have now realized it has more to
do with his father than with his own views.”
“Do you think I was invited on purpose?” Hermione whispered, thinking back on the pure
panic of Theo’s expression.
“I don’t know why you were invited. But I doubt Narcissa meant to harm. Mother says it’s
not her style. Maybe the prefects were right: Slytherins protect their own and once you
became one of us, that was it, you are one of us.” Blaise shrugged again and resumed his
playing, Hermione listened in silence, she didn’t recognize the melody.
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” Pansy’s voice rang from the door and both of them
jumped and turned to face her.
“Hey, Pans.” Blaise greeted and very politely, got on his feet, and bowed to her.
“I like my men with manners.” She said, her trademark smile plastered. She was really
beautiful. Her dress was pearly silver, sleeveless, and with ice flakes-like embroidered on the
gown. She looked like an ice princess.
Blaise scoffed. “That’s funny, cause I’m sure I’ve seen you with Vince and Greg quite a few
times.”
“A princess needs her subjects.” She said with a flick of her raven hair and a wink of her
green eyes. “Hi, Hermione. I knew the dress would look amazing on you.”
“Thank you.”
Pansy neared then and extended her wrist towards both of them. “I loved my present
Hermione, it was perfect.” She said and Hermione grinned, the crown charm twinkling.
“Theo told me to fetch you two, he muzzled his father or something like that.” She said and
Blaise smirked.
She guided them back to the ballroom, talking as she went. Pansy informed them they hadn’t
missed much, just boring greetings and that Narcissa had arranged a table for the ten of them
and the others were all there already.
They reached the ballroom and saw it was much more crowded than when she arrived, people
already mingling and with glasses in their hands. On their feet, the floor looked like a giant
chessboard, with the parquet flooring made of huge white and black squares. All around them
there were ice sculptures and the same snow enchantment on the entrance chandelier was on
the ceiling. Everything was decorated in winter colors and the details on the tables were in
Slytherin green.
“So, you met the monster,” Pansy said, it wasn’t a question. “Mother hates him, and Father
tries to avoid him if he can. Apparently, Father is not as active as he should be, whatever that
means.” She said with a shrug and brought them to their table.
“Hermione!” The girls sad in unison and they all flashed their wrists in her direction,
Hermione grinned and found herself a seat between Milli and Tracey.
It was nice, seeing them again, even if it was only after five days. Pansy sat down in the seat
between Daphne and Greg, while Blaise sat beside Vince. Theo and Draco were absent and
even with Hermione's quick scanning of the room, couldn’t find them.
Daphne was telling about her Christmas in Marseille and Blaise was saying something about
the city, one of his mother’s husbands had been French and from Marseille. Milli had invited
Tracey to go to her house after tonight, to spend the rest of the break together, Milli was red
in the face and apologetic when she told Hermione she couldn’t be invited because her father
wouldn’t approve.
Hermione waved her off, after Theo’s reaction and what she quickly learned, she understood
the situation and found that she was really glad all of them seemed to like her regardless of
their parents’ opinions.
Even Vince and Greg, who took the longest and still made a few comments or jokes that were
borderline offensive, Hermione realized it was more out of habit than anything. Tonight, at
least, they were singing praises because they loved their muggle sweets.
Theo and Draco appeared and if Pansy was an ice princess, Draco looked like an ice prince.
Draco’s robes were in the same shade of silver as his mother’s gown and made his eyes look
a lot more silver than blue. Theo’s robes were of a very dark green, almost passing as black,
just like Vince’s and Greg’s, neither had Blaise’s confidence to wear a brilliant green and
look handsome in it.
They were still talking about presents when Theo sat down by Blaise and Draco followed,
ending up on Greg’s other side and right across from her at the round table. “I think you
might have missed my gift Granger, for I haven’t received anything,” Draco said as a
greeting, he was already smirking. Hermione noticed him eyeing her hair clips.
Hermione smirked, “Well Malfoy, there were a few misjudgments of character, Theo’s
getting one, after all, you have till the end of the night.”
Vince whistled and the others tried to stifle their laughter but gave up when they noticed the
small grin on Draco’s face. “Well Granger,” he mimicked her, and the others laughed, “I
suggest start by the food, it’s delicious.”
The dinner had just appeared on their plates and it was a banquet to rival the entrance feast at
Hogwarts. There were roast turkeys, roast and boiled potatoes, platters of chipolatas, and a
tureen of buttered peas.
As the night went by and the guests danced and mingled. Hermione spotted Professor Snape
talking with a beautiful woman that Hermione assumed was Blaise’s mother and with a
plump-looking man with balding hair. Narcissa stopped by once, asking about the food and if
they were enjoying themselves, “Draco, take them to the music room, I’m sure all these
adults might be a little boring.” She had said, just as Hermione had spotted Theo’s father
again, he was returning from the gardens, beside him was a blond man who could only be
Draco’s father, because their features were extremely alike.
It could have been a coincidence, but when Theo put himself as far as he could from Blaise
and she as they moved, Hermione knew there was no such thing as coincidences with
Narcissa.
For a bunch of children raised with dozens of tutors and fed by silver spoons, they sure knew
how to behave like children when there weren’t expectations around them. Hermione noticed
that not even once, back in the castle, she had seen this version of Draco. He unbuttoned the
first buttons of his robes as soon as the door closed behind Vince and chucked his fancy shoes
off, before throwing himself carelessly in one of the armchairs.
Greg sat down in front of the harp and began an atrocious attempt of playing, that had all of
them clutching on their ears and Theo throwing Draco’s discarded shoes at him.
“You should play, Theo.” Daphne said and turned to Hermione, “he is the only one of us who
can play the harp. We all had the same teachers, but somehow he was the only one to learn a
thing.”
“Mother wanted me to focus on the piano,” Draco said with a shrug, throwing his legs over
the arm of the chair.
“Alright,” Theo said and stepped over Vince who was sprawled on the floor at Pansy’s feet,
and pushed Greg off the ottoman.
Just the way he sat and held the harp was very different from Greg and all of them stopped to
pay attention to him.
Hermione’s father used to put classical music for her to sleep and when she recognized the
famous melody of Clair de Lune, her eyes widened.
Theo played and Hermione was transfixed by the way his hands moved; it was really
beautiful, she had heard this song being played on a piano and a violin before, but it was the
first time listening to the harp.
“Beautiful,” Blaise said, in awe when Theo finished, and Hermione nodded her agreement.
Daphne clapped excitedly and Greg muttered something about his song being better. “That’s
my brother, ladies, and gentlemen,” Daphne announced and Hermione raised an eyebrow at
the same time Draco and Pansy groaned.
“Don’t start,” Pansy said and when she caught Hermione’s confused expression, she laughed.
“We grew up together,” Theo explained. “My mother died when I was very small, Daph’s
mom raised me and this crazy girl keeps calling me brother still.”
“Once a brother, always a brother!” She laughed,
“Shut up, Daph,” he said, and Hermione noticed it had a warmth to it.
They spend the next three hours like that: laughing, telling stories, and taking turns in playing
an instrument. Hermione learned there were many tutors indeed in their upbringing and
Pansy and Daphne were very good in the violin, while Draco, Milli, and Blaise were good on
the piano. Greg despite his terrible performance on the harp, knew how to play the flute and
Vince shrugged and said his father didn’t think drums was a good choice and then he stopped
attending the lessons. Tracey didn’t know how to play any instruments and they made
Hermione try to see what she remembered when she mentioned her piano lessons when she
was seven,
Daphne was the first to leave; around nine, a small creature with long ears and pointy nose
appeared in the room with a crack, calling for her.
The scene was repeated many times throughout the evening. Milli and Tracey left together
next, followed by Pansy and then Blaise’s mum appeared by the door, Hermione was right by
thinking the woman talking with Professor Snape was his mother and up close, she was by
far the most beautiful woman Hermione had ever seen. Vince openly stared and Blaise glared
at the boy all the way out of the music room.
As Greg was leaving with his elf, Narcissa appeared. “Vince, your father waits for you.
Draco, come with us please.”
Then it was only her and Theo in the music room. He still had laughter on his face and
Hermione was afraid to say something and make him close off again. But to her surprise, it
was him who spoke first. “I’m sorry about earlier.” He said, “My father—” he stopped and
scowled at the floor. “He’s not a good man Hermione.” He said and looked at her, “I know
you think I hate you and your kind, but it’s not that.” He shook his head a little and a burst of
small, sardonic laughter escaped his lips, “living with him, there wasn’t any space for hate,
not when everything was already filled with fear.”
“Thank you, then.” She said.
He nodded and stared at her, Hermione felt the sudden need to look at a mirror or down on
her dress; she felt watched, studied. “I think you will find the book I gave you very
interesting,” Theo said, his tone quiet, “All the many rumors around her. My father didn’t
know I had the book, I was always scared he’d find and destroy it. She’s older than Potter,
definitely Hogwarts age, if she’s alive, she should have appeared by now.” He said and got up
from the sofa he was sitting on, he stretched his limbs and as if he was about to inform the
weather, said: “He’d kill her if she were to appear, just like he’d have killed you if he knew
you are a muggle-born. Goodnight.”
And he left. Just like that.

Blaise had hinted at a few things, Pansy had straight up used the word monster, but hearing
from Theo, the man’s son, that whoever was Nott Sr. was someone capable of killing, made
Hermione shiver.
Before Hermione could start feeling a little creeped out by being by herself in the music
room, Draco returned, carrying a grin and two plates of dessert. “Flaming Christmas
puddings.” He said and gave one to her. “Do I deserve a Christmas present yet?”
“Is your character defined by the food you bring?”
“I don’t know, tell me. Take a bite.”
She did and it was delicious, maybe magical food had something extra because everything
she ate tonight was amazing. “Wow,” she said, mouth full.
“Good, right? It’s my favorite.”
When they finished dessert, she and Draco did what they hadn’t done in the previous four
months: they talked.
Draco was a completely different person when he wasn't with everyone else. He didn’t have
Vince and Greg to entertain, nor Theo and Pansy to play the Royal Three-part for the others
Slytherins who seemed to hold them in some kind of pedestal. They talked about school and
books and when she mentioned the size of his house, he began telling her the story of the
Manor, and Hermione was surprised at how good of a storyteller he was.
Narcissa found them one hour later, Draco finishing up the part where his grandfather,
Abraxas created a new breed of winged horses.
“Hermione, my dear. Did you enjoy yourself tonight?”
“Immensely, thanks again for inviting me.”
“It was my pleasure, I assure you. It’s getting quite late; I think I will be a terrible host if I
send you out now. What do you say about spending the night? I don’t think your father would
mind if you stayed, would he?”
“I don’t have anything with me, I wouldn’t want to be a bother—”
“Nonsense, my dear.” Narcissa said with a wave, “there are plenty of rooms in the manor and
I’m sure we can find something for you to wear to sleep. I will send an elf to inform your
parents. Draco, dear, please show Hermione where she will be staying. I will ask Dipsy to
send a change of clothes and toiletries to you.”
Severus wasn’t a big fan of Narcissa’s annual parties and tried to escape them as often as
possible, but he knew this year he’d have to go because Hermione was attending, and
Severus couldn’t trust more than a handful of the guests attending.
He put on the only formal robe he owned and charmed it, so it looked a little less black and
more like a very dark green. Severus found that his year color scheme was better than last
year’s, where he refused to go because he wouldn’t be found dead in blue robes.
Of course, Narcissa had outdone herself yet again, the place was beautiful, and everyone was
well dressed. Severus saw Hermione way before she saw him; Narcissa was already on her
way when Hermione arrived, and Severus had to use Occlumency to hide his reaction at the
sight of her. He looked away; Lily should have been alive to see her daughter all grown up;
she should have been alive to be her mother.
Severus found his godson talking with Theo, both looking like younger versions of their
fathers, both in looks and outfits. His blood froze when Adeodatus appeared in his line of
sight. Lucius was about to become a widower because was going to murder Narcissa.
He marched towards the woman, fire in his eyes. “What do you think you are doing?” He
hissed.
Narcissa looked unbothered by his tone, “I’m hosting.”
“You are hosting a funeral, then, since you thought putting Hermione and Nott in the same
room was a good idea.”
Narcissa laughed, resting a hand on his arm, in a very much practiced reaction, “You do have
a sense of humor Severus.” She said. “There’s no need to overreact, look.” Narcissa pointed
her shin over his shoulder and Severus watched Theo dragging Hermione away, the boy on
the outside was a very good representation of what Severus was feeling on the inside.
Blaise joined the scene, trying to pull Theodore’s hand away from Hermione. “The Zabini
boy will make a fine man, someday,” Narcissa observed. “Theo is already a better man than
his father has ever been.”
They couldn’t hear what was being said, but Severus watched Blaise take Hermione away
and Theo steer his father in another direction.
“You can’t control everything, Cissy.” He said.
“You just watch me, Severus, just watch me.”
“If you didn’t despise Dumbledore, I’d say you learned it from him.”
“We always learn the most from our inferiors and enemies Severus,” she said, and Severus
didn’t know for sure in which category she had put Dumbledore. Narcissa left him there and
resumed her job as hostess of the night.
The ball didn’t seem to end, Severus had to talk with more people than he liked, making
pointless, small talk with people he cared very little for. He saw that Lucius was in charge of
keeping Adeodatus away from the kids as well as Walden Macnair and Alecto and Amycus.
Slughorn was even fatter, the retirement bringing nothing but the extra weight for him; he
talked with the man as well as Nneka Chappuis and saw Slughorn boast about his Slug Club
and how he regretted not having the opportunity to teach such brilliant witch.
Throughout the night he snuck glances at Hermione and felt his insides pulling every time
he’d caught her smiling or laughing. As much as he hated to admit, Narcissa had been right,
this was beyond his expectations. Hermione had gone to him about the dress and he felt
immensely proud of her smart thinking, even if it was mostly Miss Parkinson’s doing.
Hermione and the others were nowhere to be seen in the ballroom, Narcissa had sent them
away when the alcohol made tongues lose and unsavory topics of conversation appear.
Slughorn had all but disapparated midst a conversation when Lucius and Adeodatus
mentioned how the Dark Lord wasn’t dead but hidden and would soon return. Towards the
end of the ball, Narcissa came to stand beside him and people-watch with him.
“Stay the night,” Narcissa said just as Lucius joined them.
“Right in front of your husband, Cissy?” Lucius asked, a pale blond eyebrow raised. Severus
felt like puking at the mere thought of it.
“You offend me, dear, thinking I’d be this careless,” Narcissa said with a smile and a hand on
Lucius’ cheek. Severus really felt like being sick.
“I think I might go soon,” Severus replied.
“Hermione’s going to sleep over. I think I can convince her to stay for the rest of the holidays
as well, Merlin knows Draco can be a little difficult sometimes and they still haven’t
befriended.” Severus snorted.
Lucius looked quite proud. “I raised him well.” Severus didn’t say anything about that, since
their opinions on how Lucius had raised the boy were slightly different.
“And you want me to stay for the rest of the holidays as well?”
“You are Draco’s godfather, it’s not like you haven’t spent a few days here before. It will be
good for you Severus.” Narcissa said and yes, he had stayed at the Manor before, when Lily
had died and he had a two-year-old in his care. “We’ve worked so hard Severus, all these
years. You deserve this, don’t you think?” no, Severus knew he didn’t deserve this, any of
this. Lily did. And because of him, Lily didn’t get to see any of her children grow. Lily didn’t
get to live and be happy. Severus might hate James and wished it could have been him, but he
knew she was happy during her last year, he knew she had got everything she wanted until
she died.
But at the same time, he was still selfish, and Hermione was his daughter, his beautiful,
brilliant daughter and he might never be able to be her father, but he wanted to clutch at every
opportunity to be with her.
Chapter End Notes

The title of this chapter and the quote, in the beginning, belong to Augustanas' Life
Imitating Life
Excerpts were taken from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, they belong to the
author.
this pain wouldn't be for evermore
Chapter Notes
I rewind the tape but all it does is pause

On the very moment all was lost
Sending signals
To be double crossed
Chaper Five
The Manor was amazing, Hermione soon learned. When morning came and breakfast was set
on the table, Hermione and Draco appeared in matching striped pyjamas and messy hair.
Professor Snape was there as well and Hermione almost dropped the bacon on her plate when
Draco called him Uncle Sev. Hermione was invited to stay for the remainder of the holidays
and Draco had been so excited, saying “I can show you the winged horses!” that Hermione
had grinned and thanked, already thinking about the many hours she’d spend in the famous
library.
And the library was a dream come true, Hermione had been mesmerized by the Hogwarts
Library, but the Malfoy library, for a private library, was something else. The shelves were so
high that Hermione needed a ladder thrice her size to reach the books on the top; it had all
these different categories: plants, animals, spells, history and it was organized by subject as
well as by decade. The first time Draco showed her the room, he had snorted and left her on
her own after two hours when Hermione hadn’t shown any indication she planned to stop
browsing any time soon.
Harry was right, surely something about Nicolas Flamel would be in there somewhere, she
might even ask Narcissa.
The second thing that impressed Hermione and even caused a few wrong turns was the sheer
size of the house. There were so many rooms. The first floor had the drawing-room, the
dining room, a study, the music room, Narcissa’s morning room, Lucius’ sitting room, a
duelling hall, a games room, a winter garden and a conservatory attached to it. The second
floor was entirely made up of bedrooms and bathrooms, Hermione had counted at least
twenty. And of course, the library consisted of the entirety of the right side of the house, with
a circular stair in the middle connecting both floors.
Outside, the grounds seemed to be endless. “My family has this house for ten centuries,”
Draco explained as they walked through the terrace gardens, “The house was given to
Armand Malfoy when he came to Britain with the Norman conquest, the land was a gift from
King William I, because he had helped with the invasion.” He said and in front of them was
Narcissa’s beautiful rose garden and the three greenhouses.
Hermione wasn’t jealous, because that would be ridiculous, but she was a little envious of
how much of British history was tangled with the Malfoy name.
They passed through the aviary to reach the stables and Hermione recognized Draco’s eagle
owl perched in a branch. Even magical stables smelled like horse manure, but this was the
first stable where the horses were absolutely gigantic and had wings.
“Our family has always raised horses,” Draco began explaining as he patted the first one,
Hermione had to bite down on her lower lip to keep from mentioning how they had the exact
same hair colour. “Grandfather said our Aethonan horses came from Aethon.”
“The horse in Greek mythology?” Hermione asked, “the one which pulled Helios’ chariot?”
Draco nodded, “There are people who believe the Greek gods were the first wizards and
witches, many of the myths when we think about it, is just magic.” He had said it so simply
like it was a normal fact in his life that he and the mythological Greek gods were the same.
Hermione had to stop and reevaluate her entire existence. “These are the Abraxans,” he said,
motioning the horse he was currently patting.
Hermione smirked and he rolled his eyes, probably already expecting what she’d say. “I did
notice a resemblance in hair colour.”
“Theo made the same joke. You two aren’t funny.”
Hermione laughed. “They are really beautiful.” The Abraxans were the biggest horses in the
stable, with their almost white hair and palomino skin.
“The grey ones are called Granians, they are unbelievable fast, they can even surpass a few
brands of brooms.”
Spending time with Draco was surprisingly pleasant, there were times where he’d start
boasting about his family grandeur, but he’d stop every time he noticed Hermione was
already impressed by it without all the flare.
One evening, Draco taught her how to fly on a proper broom, they weren’t old like the ones
in the castle and responded to commands easily. Hermione was in a constant repetition
between refraining from rolling her eyes and slight amusement. She should have known,
given his friendship with Vince and Greg—which was mainly the two other boys clapping at
and praising Draco’s every movement, that Draco was someone who needed constant
validation about anything and everything. He’d always try to show off in a way and another,
expecting some reaction and he’d shrug off when she didn’t give the responses he was used
to. It took him three days to stop showing off altogether, at least in front of her; as he was
always, constantly, tirelessly, trying to get some sort of approval from his father.
They were in the library - Draco always went with her and kept her company for a couple of
hours before leaving her to her devices. Narcissa usually appeared to inform that Lucius had
invited Draco for a game of Quidditch, to which the boy would jump from his chair and
almost run to find the man. On the fourth day of her stay, Narcissa also told Hermione that
Professor Snape was in Greenhouse Two picking up a few ingredients from his potions and
might need some assistance.
“Oh!” She said excitedly and closed the book she was searching in, “I will go! I read that
picking up your own ingredients for potions can influence the result of the potion, making it
even more effective.”
Narcissa smiled, “That’s right. He’ll be glad to know that at least one of his students is
interested in Potions.” Hermione nodded, “you seem to be looking for something,” Narcissa
said, tilting her head and picking up the book Hermione had been reading. “Anything I can
help you with?”
Hermione pondered, there wouldn’t be a problem in asking her about Flamel, would there?
“Yes. I read this name back in the castle, and I was curious about who he is or what he does,
there wasn’t anything else about him but his name.” Hermione said, trying to not look like
what she was doing was suspicious.
“Who is this person?”
“The name is Nicolas Flamel.”
“Flamel? Oh my, why are you looking for him? He is one of the most famous alchemists in
our world. Very, very old as well, he is way past six hundred years already—” Hermione’s
eyes widened and Narcissa chuckled, “Yes, he is very famous for his age, people have been
after him for half a millennium asking him about the Philosopher’s Stone. That’s what
allowed him to live this long, it’s a legendary stone with extraordinary powers, one of them
being producing the Elixir of Life.”
“Elixir of Life?” Hermione asked, “this means he can’t die?”
“For as long as he has the Philosopher’s Stone and can make the elixir, he will live. But this
doesn’t mean he’s immortal. If someone uses the Killing Curse on him, he will die.”
Hermione absorbed the information; Harry had told her the package Hagrid had taken from
the Gringotts’ vault was something small that he could slip inside his pocket and a stone
made sense. A stone with extreme powers and that could extend longevity? This definitely
sounded like something worth stealing and needing a three-headed dog to protect it.
“Thank you,” Hermione said, at last, realising she had got lost in her thoughts and Narcissa
was looking at her weirdly. “I had no idea. It makes sense his name was there now; I was
reading about which extracurriculars Hogwarts offered and mentioned his name as an
example for the Alchemy class.” She lied, well, it wasn’t exactly a complete lie, she had read
about the electives at the moment she first learned about them and it had Alchemy, but there
wasn’t anything about Flamel anywhere. Narcissa didn’t seem to believe in her, “I will go
find Professor Snape, then. Thank you, again.” She tried a smile and knew she probably had
made things worse, so she just left the library and went to the Greenhouse.
Professor Snape was in the second row of plants in the greenhouse, with his head bowed and
the sleeves of his robes up to his elbows. He had his back to her, and Hermione decided to
announce her presence by knocking on the threshold of the Greenhouse. He looked up at
once, his eyes widening a little at the sight of her. “Narcissa told me you might need some
assistance and—” She stopped when Professor Snape’s expression went from surprise to
confusion.
“Narcissa said that?” He said, voice wary. It didn’t look like he had called for assistance.
“I can go if you don’t—”
“Come.” He said instead and she nodded. He was picking through a purple flower in one of
the many trays on top of the long trestle table. He removed the gloves he was wearing and
with his wand duplicated and shrunk them, so they’d fit her hands. “Put these on.”
Hermione did as she was told and looked at him eagerly. She had shown so much interest in
Charms that Professor Flitwick had agreed to tutor her alone once they returned to the castle.
Pansy had gone for ‘you harassed Flitwick and bullied him into tutoring you’ instead.
Hermione knew there was no way she’d do that with Professor Snape and vowed to hold
back a few questions.
“Which plant is this, do you know?”
“It’s aconite, isn’t it?”
He nodded. “Since you probably already memorised the book, I don’t need to explain to you
what it does and why we are wearing gloves.”
“Because the leaves are extremely toxic,” she said before she could stop herself. He didn’t
ask, echoed in her head, it sounded suspiciously like Blaise’s voice. Snape nodded again.
“I brew Wolfsbane Potion for a consumer, and I collect the roots to take back to the castle
since Aconite is very difficult to find nowadays.” Hermione nodded, she had read that the
plant once was widespread, but it quickly disappeared when Damocles Belby created the
potion in the mid-eighties and many people who suffered from lycanthropy went after it, as it
was one of the main ingredients. Now the plant was mainly found in the wild and sold in
apothecaries at a very high price. Hermione should have expected to find it in the Malfoy’s
Greenhouse. “You can remove the flowers from the strings and put them in the mortar.” He
instructed, “Don’t touch the leaves, even with a glove, with potions is better to always be
careful.” He said and Hermione nodded again.
In the beginning, they worked mostly in silence, but she had so many questions, that every
other flower she put inside the mortar, she’d sneak a glance at the professor to gather the
courage to ask something. He seemed to take pity on her because he started speaking after the
umpteenth glance in his direction.
“In potion-making, it’s always better to forage and grow your own ingredients instead of
buying them in apothecaries.” He started, “the quality of the ingredients is determinant to the
potion’s effect. That’s why you shouldn’t buy ingredients that are on sale or suspiciously
cheap.”
“Maybe that’s why Ron’s potions are always terrible,” she muttered under her breath.
Between him, Seamus and Neville, it was hard to say who turned in the worst potions. If
Snape heard her, he didn’t comment.
He was a great teacher, Hermione soon realised. Back in the castle, his explanations had been
curt and his comments often rude, he didn’t have time for mistakes or antics in his classroom,
but different than she had originally thought, she found that he wasn’t averse to teaching at
all, but his methods weren’t quite fit for classrooms. He’d instruct her and answer her
questions concisely but effectively.
They had finished with the aconite and Snape didn’t send her away, instead, he handed her a
knife and instructing her how to rightly cut dittany to extract its essence.
She had finished with the dittany and was separating the petals from the flower he had given
her next when she remembered a passage in the book Theo had given her. “I think it’s
fascinating,” she started, “how something as simple as a plant can be part of something really
complex.” She motioned to the flower, “I was reading and something so common as
wormwood, can be used as a potion ingredient.” She said, “There are bushes and bushes of
the plant around my house and I’d never imagined it could be used in blood rituals, for
example.”
Professor Snape stilled beside her; his hands stopped centimetres away from the string of
dittany he was about to cut. He looked at her, Hermione thought he had gone slightly pale.
“You are twelve.” He noted, “What business a twelve-year-old has with blood rituals?” He
asked.
“I wasn’t reading about them.” She replied, a little taken aback. “It came upon the book, it’s
about all these rumours around Harry’s sister—” Snape seemed to grow even paler, maybe
Harry was right, maybe Professor Snape really hated him, “one theory talked about it because
a person can be tracked by blood and it makes no sense that no one could find her.”
Snape stared at her and slowly put the strings back into the tray. “Did Narcissa give you this
book?”
“No,” Hermione replied, “it was Theo. He gave me it as a Christmas gift. He said his father
didn’t know he had it and was afraid his father would burn it if he found it because she
should be at Hogwarts by now.”
“You speak like she’s alive.”
Hermione shrugged, “The author believes she is. But the lack of evidence, on both sides,
makes everything a big supposition. What do you think?”
“I don’t have the habit to take part in gossip and listening to rumours, Miss Granger.” He said
curtly.
Hermione nodded and resumed her task in silence.
She joined Professor Snape at the greenhouse in the next couple of days as well, Draco joined
a few times, during which Hermione learned that Draco called him Uncle Sev because their
professor was Draco’s godfather. Draco never stayed throughout it all, because Narcissa
always appeared and called Draco for something else, leaving her and Professor Snape to
cutting and powdering ingredients. Each day had their long silences shortened by
conversations regarding potions and ingredients.
The room Hermione was staying in was next door from Draco’s room and they’d stay up
until late in the night in his room, talking. Draco told her about the first time his magic
manifested and in return, she told about hers; he also told her about when he met the others
and Hermione noticed by the way he spoke, that despite always having Vince and Greg with
him, Theo was his best friend. Hermione learned that Theo hadn’t always been quiet, that
once he was very talkative and outgoing, but since the death of his mother, he became
withdrawn. Hermione told him in whispers that Theo thought his father would kill her and
Draco looked away at that, he didn’t say anything, and Hermione saw he might agree with
Theo.
...
On Sunday morning, she used the Flu network with the rest of the Malfoys to go to King
Cross; she had gone home to see her parents and pack her trunk the day before.
But once they stepped onto the train for the journey back, Hermione thought she had spent
the last week in a feverish dream and hallucinated the entire holiday. Draco had said his
goodbyes to his parents and jumped on the train without a look behind her, leaving her to
thank Narcissa and Lucius for the hospitality by herself. She found him in a compartment
with Vince and Greg, where both boys grinned and waved at her, but Draco kept his eyes
fixed on the window. It wasn’t the first time he ignored her, but this was the first time his
dismissal hurt.
Hermione tried not to dwell on Draco’s behaviour, because the two weeks away from the
castle and consequently, away from her, seemed to have been enough to make everyone else
forget she was still in Slytherin and that she wouldn’t disappear from the dungeons in a
Christmas miracle. She had more pressing things to worry about than Draco’s chicken-ish
behaviour: The taunts had resumed. But this time Hermione had Pansy, as well as the other
girls and Blaise, who remained unwavering.
The first years Slytherin were, for the most part, separated into three groups. Draco, Vince
and Greg; Blaise and Theo; Hermione and the girls. But they all gathered when it was time to
study and Vince and Greg would stop laughing at Draco’s nastiness and be true to
themselves. In the first few weeks after Christmas, Vince and Greg’s duplicity bothered her,
but Pansy had explained that the whole thing had much more to do with Lucius and both
boys’ parents than it had with anything else and she pretended to not remember all the
laughter they got on her. Draco and Theo were the only ones to not join them in the library
and Hermione thought it was for the best, she was quite hurt by Draco’s behaviour.
It also helped that Harry seemed as desperate to talk to her as she was to talk to him. She let
him start and he filled her in everything that happened during Christmas, he showed his
father’s cloak and even with Snape’s warning to not accept gifts from strangers, she didn’t
have in her to say anything, not when he looked so incredibly happy to finally have
something of James. He also told her about the mirror and his eyes shone when he told her
what he had seen.
“I didn’t even realize I was thinking about her as well.” He said, after telling Hermione about
Dumbledore’s explanation of the Mirror’s powers. “If I’m being honest, I don’t think I’ve
consciously thought about her all that much. I don’t even know her name, I keep thinking,
would I recognise her, if I saw her? Would I know? The Dursleys never said anything, did
they know? It’s so—” he shook his head, “At least I know my parents are dead. I always
knew that, but no one knows about her. The mirror—I saw their faces, my mum and dad, but
her face was blurred. What is that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know Harry,” Hermione said honestly. “What do you believe?”
“I think I want her to be alive, like Dumbledore said, I’ve never known my family and I see
them standing around me. Even with me not knowing anything about her, she’s there.”
Hermione had read Theo’s book back to back at least twice, but she didn’t think Harry would
like to read it, there were quite a few unsavoury suppositions, Harry didn’t need to wonder if
his sister had been kidnapped by Voldemort and spent the last nine years being raised to be
the next Dark Lord. She told him the only information she had that would be useful. “Her
birthday is in September. I read it in a book, September twenty-first, it’s only a date, but it’s
something.”
“Thank you, Hermione.”
She smiled at him and then he asked about her holidays and she told him everything about
the ball and the Slytherins and he listened with wide eyes when she told him they had started
to grow on her.
Hermione told him she had found who Nicolas Flamel was and about the Stone, he too
agreed it was probably what Fluffy was hiding. “I don’t think it’s him, Harry,” Hermione said
and she didn’t need to specify.
“Hermione. There’s no other option. Quirrell? It just does not make any sense.” Harry said.
“I spent half of the holidays with him at the manor. He’s—he’s curt and sardonic, but he’s not
evil. He even answered all my questions and—” Harry started smirking, “It was holidays and
he didn’t mind teaching me—”
Harry laughed, “I wish I could say I don’t believe you harassed Snape during the break, but I
know you would.”
“Shut up, I didn’t harass him.” She snapped, but a chuckle escaped anyway, “I was helping
him pick and cut ingredients.” Harry only laughed harder. “I know you won’t believe me
Harry, but I think we are missing something.”
Their meetings grew scarce as his quidditch practice resumed in full force, Hermione thought
Harry was spending every single moment not in class, on top of a broom flying. She shivered
thinking about how far in his studies he must be. It also didn’t help that Professor Snape
would be referring the game and Harry had become so stressed by the news, that he’d gone as
far as thinking Snape was following him around the castle and thinking Snape would simply
kill him out there in the field.
The days passed and one afternoon, Hermione, Pansy, Daphne, Blaise, Theo and Draco - in
one of the rare moments he spent with them since Vince and Greg were in detention -, were
enjoying their free period out in the courtyard when Harry approached them, he looked quite
angry, and what was worse, he looked angry at her.
“How can you say he’s nice?” Harry snapped when he reached them. “When he keeps doing
shit like this?”
Hermione saw, in the corner of her eye, Blaise growing a few centimetres beside her,
“What?” She asked.
“Malfoy!” Harry spat, pointing at the boy who had suddenly become very interested in his
fingernails.
“You came to defend his honour, Potter?” Draco snarled.
“I came to defend my friend, clearly, you don’t know what that is.” He said and turned to
Hermione, “I don’t think you know too,” he told her. “It’s not right, the shit he does. Not to
Neville and not to you, too.”
“Tell Neville to report to McGonagall.” Hermione said and she felt Draco’s eyes burning the
back of her head.
“He won’t. He doesn’t want more trouble. Because Neville’s nice. He’s nice, Hermione.”
“Longbottom needs to learn how to stand up for himself,” Pansy drawled.
“Yeah?” He asked, an eyebrow raised, “That’s what you tell her as well?”
“It’s not my fault he’s pathetic.” Draco said, coming forward to stand in front of Harry.
“Think of it like I’m helping him grow character. Moulding him to Gryffindor’s standards,
he’s lacking courage now.”
Harry looked behind Draco at Hermione, his look clearly said she was out of her mind to
hang around with him. Hermione looked at her feet. She knew. But she also really liked the
time they spent at the Manor and was hoping they could go back to that. “He’s worth twelve
of you, Malfoy. He’s got enough courage. After all, he’s with us, not with you, in stinking
Slytherin.”
Hermione gasped and when their eyes met again, Harry looked a little apologetic. He left and
Hermione felt her throat burning. Her friends were all looking at her. She looked at Draco,
there was a second in which Draco seemed anxious. “Leave him alone.” She said tiredly, “I
know you think everyone is beneath you, but some people are too far down that it only makes
you seem cowardly.”
She didn’t believe for a second that Neville was beneath him, or that people were better than
others, Merlin, she had had enough of that already, but she knew the only way to get through
Draco was through his own delusional idea of grandiose.
“Wow.” Theo mouthed and Blaise knocked shoulders with him, his dimple threatening to
appear.
Draco shifted, his perfect pose now presented: the smirk, the pale blond eyebrow raised and
his pointy nose tilted. “You are right, I’ve been wasting my time.” He said.
Hermione realised she might have just made things very much worse for her.
She and Harry didn’t talk for two weeks. And yeah, Malfoy laid off Neville but if he thought
he’d use his new free time to make fun of her, he was hugely disappointed. Blaise, just like
Hermione, had learned pretty early that his mother’s standing in the magical world granted
him a free pass with Draco. And since he didn’t fit anywhere in the Slytherin pyramid, he
was relentless. Twice, Pansy had arrived at their dormitory giggling and saying, “if I didn’t
know what he was doing, I’d say he was in love, Hermione” and “it’s pretty hot, what he
does.” And it was, not hot, but very nice at least. Blaise was always telling whoever would
listen, especially if Draco was present, how Hermione was the best student in the year and
how many points she got them that day and anything that came to his mind. Once, she even
caught Theo whispering something to Blaise that seemed suspiciously like he was telling
Blaise what to say.
Harry came to apologize for what he said and they had a long conversation about friendships
and Hermione told him about the days she and Draco spent together and he said something
very simple that Hermione decided to follow: If Draco was ashamed of her, he wasn’t
someone worth befriending, it didn’t matter how nice he’d been when they were alone,
because what he was in front of everyone spoke louder.
She knew he was right, because everyone else, even Theo, who had a very good reason to
stay away from her—his father might kill her— talked to her and spent time together with her
and Blaise in the library.
It didn’t take very long to Hermione realize that Draco, now unable to taunt Neville – in case
someone called him coward—, or Hermione – in case Blaise started his A Hundred and One
Reasons Why Hermione is Incredible speech—, would go after someone else and that
someone else turned to be Harry and Ron.
On Saturday morning, as they walked through the stands to find a seat to watch Gryffindor
and Hufflepuff, Hermione saw Ron and Neville a few meters from them and rolled her eyes
in advance. Draco was leading their line of Slytherins and he poked Ron in the back of the
head. “Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn’t see you there,” Draco said and turned to Vince and Greg,
waiting for their complementary laugh. They promptly complied.
“And here we go,” Hermione whispered to Blaise and he snorted.
“Wonder how long Potter’s going to stay on his broom this time? Does anyone want a bet?
What about you, Weasley?”
Ron thankfully didn’t answer, and Hermione craned her neck to watch the game, or better,
watch Harry. She wanted a nice view of Quirrell and this whole thing was beginning to annoy
her because Draco had decided there was a good place to stay and they all had to press
themselves against one another. Hermione had her elbow almost pressed on Blaise’s ribs and
he kept squirming away.
“You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?” Draco said loudly a
few minutes later, just as Professor Snape awarded Hufflepuff another penalty for no reason
at all. He really didn’t make things easier for him. “It’s people they feel sorry for. See, there’s
Potter, who’s got no parents, then there’s the Weasleys, who’ve got no money — you should
be on the team, Longbottom, you’ve got no brains.”
Hermione snuck a glance towards Neville and saw the boy going bright head and stuffing his
chest, “I’m worth twelve of you, Malfoy,” he stammered. Hermione smiled at him even as
Draco and his cronies howled with laughter.
“You tell him, Neville.” Ron said absentmindedly and Hermione rolled her eyes.
“Great friend that one is.” Blaise said.
“You tell him, Blaise.” Theo mocked and she chuckled.
“Longbottom, if brains were gold you’d be poorer than Weasley, and that’s saying
something.”
“I’m warning you, Malfoy — one more word—”
“Ron!” Hermione called, “Harry —” she stopped, because Draco was glaring at her and more
importantly because Harry was diving towards the ground, flying like a bullet.
“What? Where?”
“You’re in luck, Weasley, Potter’s obviously spotted some money on the ground!” Draco
snarled.
“Come on, Harry!” Hermione screamed and she jumped because Harry had just pulled from
his dive and in his hand was the Snitch. A body knocked against her and someone wincing in
pain, she turned around to see Ron and Draco wrestling beside her and Blaise helping Pansy
on her feet, who had been accidentally hit by Ron’s flying arm.
“For the love of God,” Hermione snapped as Draco’s kicked Daphne instead of Ron.
“Someone please get Draco off the floor.”
On Sunday, Harry rounded her after breakfast and told her about what he overheard between
Quirrell and Snape. “I told you Quirrell was suspicious!”
“I think Snape is trying to force Quirrell to help him get the stone.” Harry said and Hermione
wanted to shake him. “Hermione, Snape asked if Quirrell knew how to get past Fluffy! Why
would he ask that? Because he got bitten last time! And he said something about Quirrell’s
hocus pocus—I think that means there’s something else guarding the stone, loads of
enchantments, probably, and Quirrell would have done some anti-Dark Arts spell, he’s the
Defence teacher after all,” not a very useful teacher, Hermione wanted to add. “I think Snape
wants to know what else he needs to break through—” Hermione elbowed him, “Ouch! What
was that for?” Hermione didn’t reply, only looked ahead, where Snape was coming in their
direction. He passed without sparing a glance in their direction.
They watched Quirrell in the upcoming weeks and Hermione saw him getting thinner and
paler and stuttering through his hellos. Snape on his part, had become moodier and even
Hermione was struggling to reach the Professor’s standards in her potions and assignments.
The exams were coming, and Hermione had begun colour coding all her notes and drawing
up study schedules for all the subjects. Blaise told her she was crazy but accepted the
schedule she drew for him anyway. She spent so many hours tutoring Vince and Greg that the
Philosopher’s Stone somedays didn’t even manage to escape her subconscious. Milli joined
the tutoring sessions and so did Daphne. One evening a second year had come up and asked
for Hermione’s help. Since Draco was the second-best student in their year - and needed to be
the centre of everything - she got him, complaining and not really unwilling, to be in charge
of checking if the others were following their study schedules.
It was quite amazing how both of them managed to work in partnership without actually
speaking to one another. Blaise thought it was annoying, with all the ‘someone tells
Hermione’ or ‘someone please tell Draco’ going around their table. Differently from the
Christmas holidays where most of their house went home, now everyone seemed to have
stayed and the entire week was spent either in the library or in their common room studying.
Pansy refused to walk all the many stairs every day to the library so she was responsible for
waking up earlier than everyone else and scoring their group a table at their common room. It
was quite a feat to get a table for ten every day and the days when they couldn’t, it was
Hermione’s Table, for the ones with more difficulty and Draco’s table, for those who weren’t
drowning in homework.
“I need to get a book at the library,” Hermione said one day, and Greg almost cried when
Hermione made to get up.
“Don’t leave me.” he said.
“I will be right back. Keep studying the twelve uses of dragon’s blood, I will quiz you guys
when I come back.” She said and Greg cried then.
A few students shouted requests from the library to her as she passed and she nodded, leaving
the common room and using all the secret passages to get to the library faster.
Hermione saw Hagrid at the library, talking to Harry and Ron, she went over to say hi.
“Yer not still lookin’ fer Nicolas Flamel, are yeh?” She heard Hagrid asking Harry and Ron.
Harry and Ron spotted Hermione coming and Harry smiled at her. “Oh, we found out who he
is ages ago,” Ron replied, trying to seem impressive. “And we know what that dog’s
guarding, it’s a Sorcerer’s St—”
“Shhhh!” Hagrid looked around quickly to see if anyone was listening. “Don’ go shoutin’
about it, what’s the matter with yeh?”
“There are a few things we wanted to ask you, as a matter of fact,” Harry said, this time
whispering, “about what’s guarding the Stone apart from Fluffy—”
“SHHHH!” Hagrid said again. “Listen — come an’ see me later, I’m not promisin’ I’ll tell
yeh anythin’, mind, but don’ go rabbitin’ about it in here, students aren’ s’pposed ter know.
They’ll think I’ve told yeh —”
Harry smiled, in fact, Hermione spent so much time around smirking at people that she
recognised that as Harry’s brand of a smirk. “See you later, then,” said Harry.
They watched him leave and Hermione asked with an eyebrow raised. “What was he hiding
behind his back?”
“Do you think it had anything to do with the Stone?”
“I’m going to see what section he was in,” Ron said and came back a minute later with a pile
of books in his arms and slammed them down on the table. “Dragons!” Ron whispered.
“Hagrid was looking up stuff about dragons! Look at these: Dragon Species of Great Britain
and Ireland; From Egg to Inferno, A Dragon Keeper’s Guide.”
“Hagrid’s always wanted a dragon, he told me so the first time I ever met him,” Harry said
and Hermione hummed. He already had a three-headed dog, why on earth would he want a
dragon?
“But it’s against our laws,” Ron said and managed to impress her for the first time with what
he said next. “Dragon breeding was outlawed by the Warlocks’ Convention of 1709,
everyone knows that. It’s hard to stop Muggles from noticing us if we’re keeping dragons in
the back garden— anyway, you can’t tame dragons, it’s dangerous. You should see the burns
Charlie’s got off wild ones in Romania.”
“But there aren’t wild dragons in Britain?” Harry asked.
“Of course, there are,” Ron replied with a roll of his eyes. Sometimes he, just like the
Slytherins, forgot neither Harry nor Hermione had grown up around magic. “Common Welsh
Green and Hebridean Blacks. The Ministry of Magic has a job hushing them up, I can tell
you. Our kind has to keep putting spells on Muggles who’ve spotted them, to make them
forget.”
“So, what on earth’s Hagrid up to?” She asked. Hermione only hoped there wasn’t a dragon
hidden in the castle’s dungeons.
“Let’s find out.” Harry said, “come with us to visit him, Hermione.”
“Alright.” She said and Ron almost managed to hide his displeasure.
“Let’s meet at ten to eight near the Main Entrance.” Harry suggested and she nodded.
“Okay. See you two then.”
She returned to the dungeons to finish their study session for the day, if any of them noticed
that she ended it without any complaint about them not studying enough, no one said a thing.
Hermione should have known that sneaking out of the castle almost by the curfew to visit
Hagrid would result in some trouble, but she didn’t quite imagine the size of the trouble
they’d be in. The only good thing that had come out of that visit was that they now knew that
there were at least five things between Fluffy and the stone. Hagrid, as absurd as it was, had
managed to get himself a dragon’s egg and decided to keep it, which not only was illegal, but
he lived in a wooden house. The upcoming weeks were spent agonising over whether Draco
would tell or not and in how to get the dragon out of the grounds as soon as possible so
Hagrid wouldn’t get into trouble. Things were already difficult as it was, with having to
juggle all the many homework they were given with studying, helping the others and
watching out for Draco. It didn’t help any that Ron had to go to the hospital wing with a
dragon’s bite that he couldn’t have possibly gotten and that Draco had the information about
when and where they’d be meeting Charlie. Draco spent the days preceding the exchange
smirking at her whenever they crossed paths. She only glared at him. It was safe to say,
Hermione had given up all hope that they’d ever get back to what they had over Christmas
and maybe she had hallucinated the whole thing.
Hermione had even celebrated under Harry’s cloak when Professor McGonagall had given
him a detention, it didn’t matter that he had lost them twenty hard-earned points.
Only to find herself in detention as well moments later.
Hermione and Draco were standing at Snape’s office, with the Professor towering over them
with crossed arms. “Seventy points lost in a single night.” He drawled and Hermione blinked
back tears, Draco was trembling slightly beside her.
“My father—”
“Lucius and Narcissa will know about it first thing in the morning Draco, don’t you worry.”
He said and Hermione had thought it impossible, but Draco paled even more.
“What were the pair of you doing at the tallest Astronomy tower at one o’clock in the
morning and why do pray to tell, were you caught?”
“Draco—”
“Hermione—”
They glared at each other. Snape sighed and turned to Hermione. “Explain.”
“Hagrid got in possession of a dragon,” she told, and Snape’s furrowed eyes widened a little.
“We knew it was illegal and were trying to find a way to convince him to get rid of it. Draco
heard when we were talking about it and we were scared he’d tell, but he didn’t, deciding to
taunt us instead,” she glared again at Draco. “He learned of when and where we would be
giving the dragon to Charlie Weasley and followed us, he went to McGonagall in hopes to get
us caught.”
“You carried a dragon all the way from Hagrid’s hut to the astronomy tower?” Snape asked,
voice as low as a whisper.
“It was in a crate, he's still really small of course, he's just a few weeks old.” Snape’s lips
tinned and Hermione thought that if Snape were capable of losing his cool, he’d be doing it
now.
“Of course,” he drawled. “Do you have any idea of the sheer size of the danger you were in?
A twelve-year-old smuggling a dragon through the castle? In a castle full of children? Do you
think you are invincible Miss Granger? First the do—troll, now a dragon. Why bother
finishing your education? Do you want a recommendation for magizoologist?” Snape
snapped and Hermione wanted to shrink and hide inside her shoes like Alice in Wonderland.
“I’m sorry.” She mumbled.
“And you?” Snape turned to Draco, “Don’t you think you are going against your mother’s
wishes enough as it is? You might not like it, but Hermione is in the same house as you,
didn’t you think before setting off to purposefully get her in trouble? That all the points she
and the other house members worked hard through the entire year to get, would be lost?”
“It was Potter—”
“Congratulations. You made the Gryffindors lose a hundred points tonight, are you
satisfied?” Snape asked, Draco shook his head. “Get your wand out of your ass Draco.”
Severus snarled and Hermione winced, remembering that Snape was Draco’s godfather as
well as his Head of House. “You knew there was an illegal dragon in the castle, and you
didn’t come to me. You, for all that you talk, seem to have forgotten Slytherin’s most
important rule: we protect our own.”
Draco visibly recoiled, almost as if slapped. Hermione didn’t think there was anything that
would offend him more than say he wasn’t following Slytherin ideals.
“I’m sorry.” He said, his head bowed. For all that Hermione hated the way Draco carried
himself, she didn’t think he was born to have his head bowed.
“Go back to your Common Room.” Snape snarled and both of them almost tripped on their
feet in their haste to leave.
Severus sat back on his chair, hiding his eyes with his hands, enjoying the sense of calm the
complete darkness brought him. Merlin. He should have sent her to France and had her sent
to Beauxbatons instead because he thought he might not survive the year. Severus wasn’t a
believer of fate and destiny, but he had considered once or twice going to Sinistra and asking
a few questions because of all the people in the castle to befriend, Hermione had to become
close friends with her brother.
He wished he could talk to Narcissa about all his many reservations regarding Hermione and
Harry’s friendship, but for all that he trusted Narcissa, there were things that he didn’t want
her to know. Especially when said things had to do with her Lord lurking in the shadows of
the Forbidden Forest. Severus raised his head from his hands and noticed the set of potions
on top of his table. He cursed under his breath. With the night’s ordeal, he had forgotten to
owl Lupin the month’s batch.
Severus picked them up and put on his cloak, left his office. He couldn’t tell Narcissa, but he
could tell his daughter’s godfather.
He knocked on Lupin’s door at a quarter past two, good manners and common sense ignored.
The man took his time opening the door and Severus couldn’t help but to notice how terrible
Lupin looked.
“You look terrible.” Severus said and Lupin rolled his eyes.
“I should’ve expected something like this when the owls failed to show.” He said and made
space so Severus could come in. “You could have come in a better hour though, or I don’t
know, give a notice first. Proper manners and all that.”
Severus didn’t bother to reply, he looked around the place. It looked filthy and Lupin didn’t
have a single piece of furniture that matched or looked intact. It was a far, far cry from how
he looked the last time they met. Had it been what? Five years? Six? “You do look quite
terrible,” Severus said and handed him the potions, Lupin grabbed them at once, cradling
them against his chest.
“It’s called unemployment and earth-shattering betrayal and heartbreak.” Lupin snarled, eyes
on the potion, he downed the first one at once, his face twitching due to the taste, “you should
try sometime.”
“You need to—”
“Severus. If you even try to tell me to move on I will be conscious enough during the full
moon to remember to find you and bite you.”
Severus only snarled, “Is this safe to seat?”
“There are no venereal diseases if that’s what you are asking.” Lupin replied with a snort and
went to the kitchen, which was really a fridge, a stove and a cupboard on the other side of the
couch.
“I do not doubt that,” Severus muttered to himself, even though he was sure Lupin, this close
to the full moon, might have heard him. Narcissa had often called Severus hopeless in terms
of romantic affairs. For Lupin, Severus would use the word pathetic. Surely Black didn’t
deserve years of… whatever this was.
Lupin gave him a glass and poured firewhiskey, seating on top of a card box. “So, what do I
owe this visit? The last time we saw each other, Hermione was six.” He mentioned, pouring
firewhiskey on his glass. Lupin sighed. “Thank you for telling me she had been sorted to
Slytherin. It isn’t the house I’d want for her, but I appreciate being told.”
“You are her godfather.” Severus muttered. Lily had a funny sense of humour, leaving him
stuck with someone who almost killed him at school.
“You are here to talk about her, aren’t you?” Remus asked and Severus saw him trying to not
look so eager.
Between the three of them—Severus, Narcissa and Remus—Remus was the one who had
been in more contact with Hermione in the years that came. His longest-lasting job was in a
bookshop near the Granger’s house and Hermione had been his most loyal customer. If it
weren’t for the many pictures Remus snuck when small Hermione visited, Severus would
have missed a few years of her growing up.
In the first few years after the war, Dumbledore had kept such a close eye on him that his
curfew might rival one of a first year. He couldn’t do much without fearing being tailed by
the man or someone else. Remus was ostracized enough that he managed to slip past the old
man’s half-moon spectacles when Sirius was condemned.
It was one of the many things that bothered Severus, how Dumbledore seemed to ignore
Remus existence those first few years, even with the man being Hermione’s godfather and
the only one who could say for sure if she was dead or alive.
“There is a fine line between parenting and being someone’s head of house.” Severus said.
Remus shrugged, “I wouldn’t know.” He said in a snarling tone.
“Were you always this pleasant?”
“Why Severus? Have your standards increased? Last I knew, your friends were Narcissa,
Lucius and myself.”
“You are not my friend.”
“I have to be. Otherwise, the wolf has more friends than me.”
“You have no friends.” Severus pointed out.
“Well, thank you, Severus, you are as pleasant as always. I did need the reminder that all my
friends are all dead.” Lupin glared.
“A few things are happening at the castle that I can’t tell Narcissa.” Severus said instead and
Remus raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “Dumbledore believes You-Know-Who is close to
returning and that his weakened state is somewhere in the forbidden forest, depending on
someone else’s help to survive.”
“What?”
“There was a break-in in Gringotts a few months ago.” Severus said and Remus nodded,
“The vault they tried to break in had been emptied by Hagrid earlier that same day, Harry was
with Hagrid when he emptied it, Dumbledore says it was a coincidence—” Severus scoffed,
“I don’t think so, not with everything that has happened this year.” He poured a little more of
firewhiskey on his glass, “The thing from the vault, is now at the castle and it’s nothing less
than the philosopher’s stone.”
“Flamel’s stone?”
“Yes. Voldemort wants it, probably so he can return to his original form. Quirrell is helping
him—”
“Quirrell? He was no one back in school, another swot from Ravenclaw. Isn’t he teaching
muggle studies? Why would he want anything to do with Voldemort?”
Severus felt pained just by thinking of the annoyance that was Quirrell. “He went abroad last
summer, to explore the world and another bunch of nonsense, he must have found something
in his trips. At first, we weren’t sure if it was him, but he’s been out of it since the beginning
of the year. Remember Benjy Fenwick? He’s stuttering worse than Fenwick did during
exams. Dumbledore believes he’s being forced to, I think Quirrell went looking for
Voldemort and wasn’t prepared to deal with what he found. A Ravenclaw, obviously.” He
rolled his eyes. “He’s teaching Defence now, an utter buffoon doing so if you ask me.”
“Quirrell’s doing Voldemort’s bidding all the while teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts?
Dumbledore is doing what exactly?”
“Dumbledore is having fun.” Severus snarled, gripping the glass with so much strength, the
glass might shatter at any second. “He wants to see if Harry will fulfil his destiny. That
bloody forsaken prophecy. The stone is in the castle, he asked all of us teachers to help
protect it, even Quirrell, but it’s almost like he wants to get Harry to find it more than he
wants to keep Quirrell out. I don’t know if Hagrid is doing it on purpose, or if Dumbledore
counted on Hagrid being inept to keep his bloody mouth shut, but because of that oaf, they
already know where the stone is, and which teachers are helping protect it.”
“They?”
“Harry and Hermione. They became friends, really close friends.” Remus’ eyes widened,
Severus snorted. “yeah, it’s everything that I needed. Dumbledore is already sure that
Hermione is her, it sure didn't help that they have become friends even in enemy houses. That
only makes the old man euphoric.”
“Is that why you look ready to down my entire bottle of firewhiskey?”
“No. I drank to that already. Hermione got a detention tonight. She was caught by
McGonagall smuggling a dragon out of the castle with Harry.”
Remus spluttered and Severus thought the man was going to cough his lung out. He eyed him
in case Hermione lost her godfather. “A dragon? How did they get a dragon in the first
place?”
“Hagrid, of course.” He said, “I came here after scolding her. I don’t know if I scolded her as
her father or as her teacher.”
“I don’t think you can separate the two Severus.”
“I have to. I might lose my mind if I don’t. There was the three-headed dog, the troll, now the
dragon, Harry’s going to drag her with him if he decides to go after the stone—”
“Wait, wait. A three-headed dog? A troll? What’s going on at Hogwarts this year?”
“I told you, each teacher did something to protect the stone. The dog was Hagrid’s, the troll
was Quirrell, which he let out on Halloween, to have it as a distraction as he tried to get past
the dog. I went after him and got bitten instead.”
“Merlin, and they survived both the dog and the troll? Dumbledore might as well give them a
free path.”
“I have no idea how they managed to knock the troll out, but in the memory, I saw of the dog,
they escaped when the thing was still confused about their presence.”
“It’s not right to look in other’s people minds. I don’t care if she’s your daughter.” Remus
snapped.
Severus scoffed, “It’s not like I did it on purpose. She has the same guilty expression as
Lily’s. Sometimes she gets me by surprise and when I look into her eyes, I see everything
that’s running through her mind.”
Remus sipped on his drink, “how are they, Severus? Hermione and Harry, how are they like?
It’s been years since I’ve seen Hermione and I always felt too guilty to go see Harry.”
Severus understood guilt, if there was something that he and Remus were similar, was in how
familiar with guilt they both were.
“Hermione is brilliant.” He said, “she’s the top of her year and she tutors both her classmates
and a few second years in Slytherin, she’s part of so many study groups that I’m sure soon
she’ll be tutoring third years as well.” Severus told proudly, “She has to deal with snobbish
brats in Slytherin, but she doesn’t lower her head, she’s very proud. They call her names and
she rolls it off her shoulders and proves them wrong, she proves them wrong every single
day.”
“She sounds like Lily.”
“She is just like Lily, it’s—Hermione has a few mannerisms that—Remus, it shouldn’t be
possible, not after everything we did, but I see Lily in her all the time.” Severus stammered.
“The ritual transfused her blood, so locating spells wouldn’t work, but her core, her magic
and a big part of DNA are the same. We only altered the things that would make her
physically look like Lily, everything else is there.” Severus hummed, he knew, of course, he
was there for it. But it surprised him all the same.
“Hermione set fire to my cloak.” He said just as Remus was taking another swig of his drink.
“On purpose.”
“Now, that’s something I wanted to see. Did she have a good reason, or do you still inspire
our worst instincts?”
“She’s not Potter’s child.” Severus snarled, if he had to listen to another word about how
Harry and Hermione had taken James’ troublesome attitude, he was going to hex someone.
“Harry’s broom was being jinxed. Quirrell was doing it, but both jinx and counter-jinx
require you to look straight at your target and your eyes fixed on it. She tripped Quirrell,
knocking him headfirst in the row in front of him and set fire to my cloak. She didn’t know
which of us was the one harming him and decided to count her losses.”
“I was wondering why she was in Slytherin,” Remus mentioned, trying very hard to keep
from laughing. “Did you see her doing it?”
“I saw her blue fire—she has created a blue fire in a jar to keep warm. The entire Slytherin
house had one around winter and even a few people from the other houses—she scooped it
out and on my cloak, and waited for me to notice I was on fire before scooping it back. I
pretended not to see her hiding under the stands and kept Quirrell face down so Harry could
get back on his broom.”
“Merlin! That’s my girl.” Remus said. “Let me guess, now they think you are the one after
the stone? You do play the part of evil quite well, it’s all your charming and bubbly
personality.”
“I can stop brewing those, you know.”
“You wouldn’t.” Remus grinned and Severus scowled at the blatant Sirius Black’s brand of a
grin. It annoyed him that Remus was right, he wouldn’t keep the man from his potions, he
looked terrible enough with them.
“But yeah, Harry and the youngest Weasley boy think it’s me, Hermione of course is smarter
than that and insists that they are missing something and Quirrell should be doubted. But
Harry is as stubborn as his father. That boy is exactly like Potter.” Severus growled, it
annoyed him to no end that he had to look at James Potter’s face on a daily after eleven years.
James Potter’s face with Lily’s eyes.
Remus rolled his eyes, “You hate James, try to think of Lily when you talk about the boy.”
Severus scoffed. “He has Lily’s eyes and kindness.” He said, “The Weasley kid keeps trying
to fill his head with nasty things about Slytherin and Hermione, but Harry won’t listen, at
least not to the things about Hermione, choosing to befriend her despite everything Weasley
says.”
“Just like Lily.” Remus said and there was something akin to kindness in his tone that had
Severus wanting to throw the glass at him. He knew Lily had her fair share of people talking
her out of her friendship with Severus. Only for what? For him to repay her with death.
“Harry’s on the quidditch team. The youngster player in years and I’m not being biased when
I say he looks like Potter. He does. His quidditch skills, the easy way magic comes to him.
He’s no Outstanding, but he’s Exceeds Expectations with ease. And he has a knack for
disregarding the rules that sometimes I think Potter and Black reproduced.” He said and it
wiped Remus’ smile from his face.
“Don’t speak of him.” Remus snapped.
“Have you vi—”
“I said, don’t speak of him.” Remus growled, actually growled and picked the bottle of
firewhiskey.
Severus didn’t know exactly when Remus and Black had gotten together, but he knew it was
sometime around the fifth year because that’s the earliest he remember catching them around
the castle. But he knew Black has spent more time in Azkaban than they spent together, and
Severus was quite sure Remus’ current situation had more to do with Black than it had to do
with unemployment.
“The Dursleys didn’t tell Harry about him having a sister.” He said instead and was
successful in redirecting the man’s anger. “They also didn’t tell show him pictures of them.
He didn’t know what his parents looked like. It was Hermione who did. She told him about
their picture in the trophy room.”
“Lily had told me a few things about her sister, but omitting them from Harry? He didn’t
know he has a sister?”
“He learned about it as the other students bombarded him with questions. After Christmas,
Dumbledore told me he caught Harry with the Mirror of Erised. Harry sees him with his
parents and Hermione, I mean, he doesn’t see Hermione exactly, but he sees his sister.”
“I imagine that an artefact as dangerous as the mirror, lying around in the castle, serves a
purpose?”
“Of course. You know Dumbledore. The mirror has changed places now, I don’t know where
he put it, but he left it there for a while, enough for Harry to find it and learn about it.”
“Do you think Harry’s going to fall into Dumbledore’s plans?”
“I think so. Dumbledore plays God like no one else.” He snarled, “he is sure Hermione is the
missing sister, he can’t prove it without you, but he doesn’t need much when Hermione and
Harry get closer and closer each day. I can’t do anything about it, Narcissa has been trying to
make Draco befriend Hermione and keep her away from Harry, but Lucius’ did quite a job on
him. He’s the only in their year that hasn’t befriended her.”
“But why would Draco be able to keep Harry and Hermione from befriending?”
“You don’t know the Malfoys.” Severus snorted, “They are quite a handful. Their friendship
can be quite demanding. It also helps that Draco and Harry despise each other. The only
reason why Hermione and Harry were caught tonight was because Draco told on them.”
“Well, be my guest to finish my fire whiskey.” Remus said with mirth, “Hogwarts might give
you a few early white hairs.”
“I will poison your potion next month.”
“You do that. I will go back to bed; you can see yourself out when you finish.”
“What a host, Lupin.”
“My sorrows have made residence Severus; you are the only one that I’ve talked to in a long
time.” He said, picking his glass and moving to the sink. Severus watched his frame and how
his shoulders didn’t have the same stance they had when Black and Potter walked on each
side of him.
“I hope you are not inviting me to stay.” He drawled as Remus back retreated into the only
other room in the house.
“He’d kill me too,” Remus replied, and it was the last thing he heard before Remus closed the
door.
Chapter End Notes
The title of this chapter and the quote, in the beginning, belong to Taylor Swift's
Evermore
author.
maybe we'll work it out
Chapter Notes
I walked the streets all day

Running with the thieves
'Cause you left me in the hallway
Chapter Seven
The weeks leading to Hermione’s detention were trying for both her and Harry, especially
Harry. He went from one of the most popular people in school to the least popular overnight,
the other houses had been so excited about Slytherin finally losing the house cup that both
Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff began picking on him. The Slytherin cheered him on as he passed,
and Harry had told her he was thinking about resigning from Quidditch.
Draco hadn’t originally told anyone about the part he played in having Hermione lose fifty
points and she had endured a week of insults on her own, before finally having enough and
throwing Draco under the bus. She was so used to receiving glares from him that she didn’t
even mind when he became even nastier as the other students criticized him for his actions.
They were having breakfast when a note came for both of them. Draco glared at her before
opening his and she did the same.
Meet me at my office at half-past ten. Your detention will take place tonight.
Professor Snape.
Draco complained that he had been hoping that McGonagall would have forgotten about their
detention as they went on their way to Charms that day and Hermione scoffed. As if
Professor McGonagall would forget anything. “This is your fault.” She repeated for the
millionth time because Hermione and Draco had the misfortune to get paired together since
all their friends were avoiding them and their bad temper. Pansy had called it the cold war.
Hermione had been so impressed she knew about the cold war that she didn’t even mind.
“You were out after curfew with an illegal creature.” He snapped.
“I was doing something about the illegal creature.” Hermione hissed.
Blaise rolled his eyes beside them and murmured something to Theo that Hermione didn’t
hear, but had Theo laughing.
Their entire day was spent similarly and after dinner, Draco left the common room to meet
Snape without her. “He’s still trying to get me in trouble.” She snarled and stomped out of the
common room.
“Good luck! Don’t kill each other!” Pansy called from her armchair and Hermione scoffed.
Of course, Draco was already there and looking annoyed.
“Miss Granger, good evening,” Snape said in a tone that made Hermione feel like it was
anything but a good evening. “As I was telling Draco, both of you will have to go to the
Forbidden Forest to serve detention.”
“The Forbidden Forest?” Hermione asked, “we can’t go in there!”
“Uncle, there are werewolves—” Draco tried.
“I tried to change the detention, believe me. Now go. You have to meet Filch and the others
at the entrance hall at eleven. Try not to cause more trouble on the way there.”
“Yes, Sir,” Hermione replied.
“Draco. Don’t forget what I told you.”
“Yes, Uncle.”
They found Filch first and waited a couple of minutes for Harry and Neville to appear.
“Follow me,” said Filch. He sounded quite cheery. “I bet you’ll think twice about breaking a
school rule again, won’t you, eh?” he said leeringly. “Oh yes…Hard work and pain are the
best teachers if you ask me….It’s just a pity they let the old punishments die out…Hang you
by your wrists from the ceiling for a few days, I’ve got the chains still in my office, keep ‘em
well-oiled in case they’re ever needed…Right, off we go, and don’t think of running off, now,
it’ll be worse for you if you do.”
Hermione exchanged a glance with Draco and by his expression, he too seemed to wonder
whether Filch was speaking the truth. Neville kept sniffing beside Harry.
She noticed they were heading towards Hagrid’s hut, and then heard a shout that proved her
right. “Is that you, Filch? Hurry up, I want ter get started.”
Harry had smiled when he heard Hagrid's voice. Filch leered, “I suppose you think you’ll be
enjoying yourself with that oaf? Well, think again, boy— it’s into the forest you’re going and
I’m much mistaken if you’ll all come out in one piece.” Filch said to Harry and Neville let
out a little moan. Hermione saw that McGonagall didn’t bother to tell her students where they
were going to go.
Hermione thought it was for the best, she didn’t think Neville would have left the common
room and Draco wouldn’t have had time to practice his cool.
“You shouldn’t be too friendly to them, Hagrid,” Filch said coldly, “they’re here to be
punished, after all.”
“That’s why yer late, is it?” Hagrid asked with a frown. “Bin lecturin’ them, eh? ‘Snot your
place ter do that. Yeh’ve done yer bit, I’ll take over from here.”
“I’ll be back at dawn,” Filch said and Hermione’s eye widened. Professor Snape hadn’t said
anything about them spending the night in the forest. “For what’s left of them,” Filch added
nastily.
“I’m not going in that forest,” Draco announced. He had seemed to process as much as
Hermione, the idea of spending the entire night was not on his plans.
“Yeh are if yeh want ter stay at Hogwarts,” said Hagrid fiercely. “Yeh’ve done wrong an’
now yeh’ve got ter pay fer it.”
Draco began complaining, saying he’d tell his father and all his usual speech, Hagrid wasn’t
having any of it. Draco used his glare on Hagrid, but it wasn’t effective when Hagrid was
twice Draco’s size.
“Right then,” said Hagrid, “now, listen carefully, ‘cause it’s dangerous what we’re gonna do
tonight, an’ I don’ want no one takin’ risks. Follow me over here a moment.”
Hermione shuffled closer to Draco as they reached the edge of the forest and for once, the
boy didn’t say anything. “Look there,” Hagrid said, pointing to a silvery thing on the floor.
“See that stuff shinin’ on the ground? Silvery stuff? That’s unicorn blood. There’s a unicorn
in there bin hurt badly by summat. This is the second time in a week. I found one dead last
Wednesday. We’re gonna try an’ find the poor thing. We might have ter put it out of its
misery.”
Draco’s head snapped up. “And what if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first?” He asked
and Hermione heard his fear as clear as if it was her own.
“There’s nothin’ that lives in the forest that’ll hurt yeh if yer with me or Fang,” said Hagrid.
“An’ keep ter the path. Right, now, we’re gonna split inter two parties an’ follow the trail in
diff’rent directions. There’s blood all over the place, it must’ve bin staggerin’ around since
last night at least.”
“I want Fang,” Draco announced at once, looking at Fang’s long teeth.
“All right, but I warn yeh, he’s a coward,” Hagrid said and Draco turned a little paler. “So
me, Harry, an’ Hermione’ll go one way an’ Draco, Neville, an’ Fang’ll go the other—”
“No.” Draco said again, “I want Hermione too.” Hermione looked at him with raised
eyebrows. Was he planning to leave her in the woods?
“All right, Neville you are with me then,” Hagrid said and Neville seemed relieved. “Now, if
any of us finds the unicorn, we’ll send up green sparks, right? Get yer wands out an’ practice
now— that’s it— an’ if anyone gets in trouble, send up red sparks, an’ we’ll all come an’ find
yeh— so, be careful — let’s go.”
The forest was very dark and silent. Hermione lit up her wand at once. A little into it they
reached a fork in the earth path, and Harry, Neville, and Hagrid went to the left while her,
Draco and Fang went to the right.
“I’m telling you, if you try anything funny, I will hex you,” Hermione announced.
“I won’t.” He said, and Hermione recognised at once his tone. It was the same he used with
her at his house. Hermione didn’t know whether to feel angry or relieved. “Uncle asked me to
not let you go with Potter if Hagrid tried to split us,” Draco told her.
“Why?”
“He said that there are some things in the forest that might be attracted to Harry, because of
You-Know-Who.” He shrugged and waved his wand around, lighting the path around them.
“It wouldn’t be good if you were with him, since you—”
“I’m a muggle-born.”
“Yeah, that’s what he said.”
“What do you think it’s killing thing the unicorns? I read that they can easily outrun
werewolves. What could be fast enough to kill them?”
“I don’t know.” He said, “But it must be something desperate because killing a unicorn brings
only bad things. They have many magical properties, its horn and tail hair are used for
potions and wand-making, and its blood—” he made a face of disgust, “there’s a terrible price
in drinking it, it can extend your life, but it’s going to be a half-life, a cursed one.”
“Do you think whatever is killing the unicorns, is drinking their blood?”
“It must be. You don’t need to kill a unicorn to have their hair or horn. It’s a terrible thing to
kill a unicorn.” He said and Hermione thought he was probably right.
They walked in the dark, their wands illuminating only the ground in front of her. Now and
then they'd spot silver-blue blood on the fallen leaves. Hermione couldn't help but think that
it was quite creepy, to follow a trail of blood.
Hermione heard a twig creak and snapped her head towards the sound, her blood froze; and
she stopped dead on her feet. She grabbed onto the sleeve of Draco’s robe. “What?” He
asked, his voice barely a whisper.
“Look,” she said, pointing with her chin. She held Draco’s wand arm when he motioned to
point the light where Hermione was pointing. “Don’t. I don’t want it to see us.”
It was a man, probably, it was a cloaked thing, slithering over the dead leaves, a few meters
in front of them. Hermione couldn’t see its face, but she felt all the hairs in her body raising
and an uncontrollably shaking took over her. It felt like an iron fist had her heart and was
squeezing it. The thing stopped on its way and Draco gripped her hand on his. A flash of
green and a cloaked figure came through her mind, like her old nightmare.
They stood there, hands clasped and frozen on their spot, Hermione was gripping Draco’s
hand so hard she worried she might break his bones. She didn’t breathe for the time it took
for the creature to resume its walking.
“Draco,” she cried once the only thing they could hear was their breathing. “I think that’s
what is killing the unicorns.”
“We shouldn’t be here, Hermione.” He said, his eyes were wide, and it was as grey as the
moon above them. “I think that—I think it was—” he was trembling, and his chest was
heaving. “I think it was him.” Draco said it came out of him like he was punched.
“Him?” Hermione asked.
Draco, still holding her hand, pulled her with him, back to the way they’d come. “Uncle was
being very weird when I met him, he made me promise and threatened to put me in detention
for the rest of the year if I let you alone with Potter. And over Christmas—” He stopped,
“Father was nervous, anxious even, talking with people over the ball, I heard a few things,
they mentioned him—the Dark Lord, You-Know-Who, they mentioned the rumours were
getting stronger, that there had been sightings and—” he choked, this time it was him who
almost crushed her bones, “they say he’s going to return.”
At that moment, they heard a scream and both Draco and Hermione clutched at each other.
“Harry,” she gasped.
“Hermione!” They heard Hagrid’s voice and Hermione jumped, it was Hagrid. He was
coming with Fang and a crying Neville. “Yer alright!” He said.
“Where’s Harry?” Hermione asked.
“I don’t know,” Hagrid said, “Neville and Fang came running, Neville still hasn’t spoken, I
don’t—”
“How can you not know?” Hermione cried, “Hagrid where’s—” She stopped, hearing the
sound of calves on the ground. She untangled herself from Draco and ran to Harry, “Harry!
Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” Harry said. But Hermione thought he was quite shaken. “The unicorn’s dead,
Hagrid, it’s in that clearing back there.”
“This is where I leave you,” The centaur that brought him murmured as Hagrid hurried off to
examine the unicorn. “You are safe now.” Harry nodded and slid off his back. “Good luck,
Harry Potter,” the centaur said. “The planets have been read wrongly before now, even by
centaurs. I hope this is one of those times.”
“What’s he talking about?” She asked.
“I will tell you later.” He said, “are you all right?”
“Yeah. I had Draco.” She said.
They waited for Hagrid so they could return to the castle and they were so shaken by the
night’s events that it was a quiet walk. Hermione hugged Harry goodnight at the entrance hall
and climbed down the stairs towards the dungeons.
“Hermione,” Draco called before the stone wall. He looked apologetic. She thought he even
sounded apologetic, which she didn't think was possible of him. Hermione felt like she knew
what he was going to say.
“When we cross this door,” she started, “we are back to glaring at each other.” Draco looked
away and Hermione knew she was right.
“I want to be your friend.” He said, “but—”
“You are ashamed.” She finished for him and with prickling eyes said the password and
crossed the passage without looking behind her.
Yet, the cold war between them had ended. In the days that came, Draco had quit glaring,
resorting instead to Theo’s methods: social distancing and staring. Their study sessions
resumed in the same fashion, Hermione helping the ones with more difficulty and Draco with
the rest. Before coming to Hogwarts, Hermione had wanted to go to Ravenclaw, but as the
exams were drawing closer, she saw she much preferred Slytherin, not only because between
of the top five students in the first year, three were from Slytherin, while only two were
Ravenclaws, but also because the Ravenclaws seemed to be fighting one another and hiding
their homework and Hermione would often find one hidden in a random alcove of the castle
studying. Hermione liked studying and she could understand hiding away her homework—
she had caught Vince twice already trying to open her bag—but she also liked to teach and
have the others coming to her for help, she liked the sudden position of importance she had in
the house, as the others, sometimes second and even third years would come to her with
questions.
The exams were fast approaching, and Hermione wished she could help Harry more, be with
Harry more. He was having a hard time processing what the centaurs had told him and even
Hermione felt chilled to the bones at the thought that Draco had been right, that it was
Voldemort lurking in the forest, living off drinking unicorn’s blood, waiting for the stone to
give his strength back. Hermione hadn’t told him about Professor Snape asking Draco to keep
her from Harry that night, because she knew it would only serve as fuel to the fire in Harry’s
already long list of reasons of why Snape was helping Voldemort.
When the exams came, Hermione wished she could have prepared more, they had both
written and practical exams, for the written exams they had to use a special anti-cheating
quill and for their practical, Hermione made a pineapple tap-dance across a desk for charms;
in Transfiguration, they had to turn a mouse into a snuffbox and Hermione even managed to
get extra points for how pretty her was; in Potions, Snape asked them to brew a forgetfulness
potion and for Defence, they had to cast Flipendo and completely knock the target
backwards, but Hermione thought if hers had danced instead, Quirrell wouldn’t notice with
how nervous and anxious he had been.
Hermione was celebrating the last exam of the year, History of Magic, while Harry was
stressed about the pain in his forehead. Hermione told him it might be nerves, every time he
mentioned his nightmare Hermione thought it sounded quite similar to her own. She thought
it had to do with the fact that both of them had seen the cloaked creature, however, Harry’s
encounter with it had been much more terrifying.
“We need to see Hagrid now!” Harry snapped suddenly and Hermione jumped. Harry was
positively white.
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“Don’t you think it’s a bit odd,” he said, “that what Hagrid wants more than anything else is a
dragon, and then, a stranger turns up who just happens to have an egg in his pocket? How
many people wander around with dragon eggs if it’s against wizard law? Lucky, they found
Hagrid, don’t you think? It’s so obvious!” He snapped and quickened his steps towards the
hut. Hermione gasped and followed him.
They found Hagrid sitting in an armchair outside his house. “Hullo,” he said with a smile.
Hermione felt dread, she had an idea about what Harry was suspecting and just by looking at
Hagrid and remembering everything Hagrid had told them unintentionally, the odds of them
not being the only ones with some information they shouldn’t have... Well, they were good.
“Finished yer exams? Got time fer a drink?”
“No, we’re in a hurry.” Harry said, “Hagrid, I’ve got to ask you something. You know that
night you won Norbert? What did the stranger you were playing cards with look like?”
“Dunno,” Hagrid said casually, “he wouldn’ take his cloak off.” Harry and Hermione looked
between them with stunned looks and Hagrid shrugged. “It’s not that unusual, yeh get a lot o’
funny folk in the Hog’s Head— that’s the pub down in the village. Mighta bin a dragon
dealer, mightn’ he? I never saw his face, he kept his hood up.”
And Hagrid managed to stun them more and more with every question Harry asked, because
of course Hagrid had mentioned Fluffy in midst of all the drinks the strange man had bought
him, of courseOr not. Hermione thought as the professor’s tone was already suspicious.
“Why?”
“It’s sort of secret,” Harry said, and Hermione wanted to slap him. Professor McGonagall
grew a few centimetres as her stance changed and her nostrils flared.
“Professor Dumbledore left ten minutes ago,” the professor said coldly. “He received an
urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and flew off for London at once.”
“He’s gone?” Harry asked frantically. “Now?”
“Yes, he’s a very great wizard, there as many demands of his presence and—”
“But this is important!” Harry snapped and Hermione winced. If it were her head of house
Hermione was about to see another fifty points disappearing from the Slytherin house.
“Something you have to say is more important than the Ministry of Magic, Potter?”
“Look,” Harry started, and Hermione braced herself. “It’s about the Sorcerer’s Stone—” By
the look on McGonagall’s face and the books on her hand suddenly tumbling to the floor, she
wasn’t expecting that to come out of Harry's mouth. “Professor, I think— I know— that Sn—
that someone’s going to try and steal the Stone. I’ve got to talk to Professor Dumbledore.”
She glanced at each face staring back at her; her face was a mixture of surprise and suspicion.
“Professor Dumbledore will be back tomorrow,” she announced. “I don’t know how you
found out about the Stone, but rest assured, no one can possibly steal it, it’s too well
protected.”
Harry tried to argue more, but McGonagall wasn’t hearing it and Hermione knew they had
just busted their only chance. She left and Harry voiced what she was thinking. “It’s tonight.”
“What should we—” She stopped midsentence because Snape was suddenly standing in front
of her. He gave her a look that was almost daring her to keep talking.
“Good afternoon,” Snape said smoothly. “You shouldn’t be inside on a day like this,” There
was an odd smile on his face. Hermione was grasping at straws now, there was a natural
suspicious aura around professor Snape that she couldn’t quite explain.
“We were—” Harry began, only to be cut off by Snape.
“You want to be more careful,” he said, “Hanging around like this, people will think you’re
up to something. And Gryffindor really can’t afford to lose any more points, can it?” Harry
flushed bright red and Hermione looked down to her feet. She had managed to recover her
lost points, only barely putting Slytherin back in the lead. “Be warned, Potter — any more
nighttime wanderings and I will personally make sure you are expelled. Miss Granger,” he
called her, “Mr Malfoy was looking for you. Good day to you.”
Harry set out a plan, Hermione was to ignore Draco and keep watch on Snape in the
staffroom, while he and Ron were going to keep watch on the third floor. Hermione felt like
there were quite a few points of the plan that were lacking.
It didn’t take long for her to be proved right. Snape left the staffroom after thirty minutes of
keeping watch. “Miss Granger.” He drawled.
“I was waiting for Professor Flitwick Sir, I think I marked one of my answers wrong and I
was thinking if—”
“Flitwick was squeaking just now about your score Miss Granger.” He told her, “a hundred
and twenty percent. It’s the highest score ever recorded in Hogwarts. Miss Granger, there
wasn’t any wrong answers in your exam.”
“Really?” She squeaked, she had known that of course, Flitwick had told her already.
“Really. You know what else is surprising?”
“No Sir,”
“Is that he also told us that he couldn’t keep secret and already revealed your score to you.”
“Oh.” She said, voice cracking. Hermione could feel her face burning in embarrassment. “It
might have slipped my mind.”
“I doubt it.” He drawled. “Now tell me, where are Potter and Weasley?”
“I don’t know Sir.” She lied.
“Miss Granger, I hope you know that you need to improve your skills in stealth.”
“Yes Sir,” Hermione replied automatically, she almost slapped her face. Snape made a sound
that could have been amusement.
Professor Snape opened his mouth to say something else, but McGonagall appeared in the
corridor, she was fuming. Her nostrils flared even more at the sight of Hermione there.
“I just caught Potter and Weasley lurking outside Fluffy’s door.” McGonagall snapped and
Snape levelled Hermione a look. “You too think you are harder to get past than a pack of
enchantments!” She stormed, “Severus get your student back to her common room before I
remove another fifty points. She won’t have time to earn them back this time.” McGonagall
announced and entered the staffroom, banging the door closed behind her.
Hermione looked at the professor, if he was the one who wanted to steal the stone, now he
clearly knew they were onto him and alone in a corridor, would be the perfect time to silence
her. He only looked at her, he had an eyebrow raised in question.
“How much you know of what we know?” She asked in a low tone, her shoulders hunching
sheepishly.
“Everything.” He replied and Hermione almost stumbled on her feet. “Should I thank you for
not thinking I’m the one trying to steal it?”
“It was lacking evidence.” She replied.
“You do belong in Slytherin Miss Granger. Your rational thinking belongs to nowhere but
Slytherin.”
“Thank you, sir,”
“Go back to your Common Room. Rest assured I’m not going to steal the stone and that
Dumbledore is here to protect it.”
Hermione froze, “but Dumbledore—”
“Go back to your Common Room. I shouldn’t be talking about the stone with a student. If
you get caught outside tonight, Slytherin might begin next year owing points.”
He didn’t know. Hermione thought as she returned to her common room. He didn’t know
Dumbledore had left. It couldn’t be him, could it? Snape had let her walk away freely, he
didn’t even follow her back to the dungeons, he trusted she was going back to her common
room because he, just like McGonagall, didn’t have any interest in the stone and thought it
was impossible to anyone steal it.
If he was the one after the stone, surely, he’d have done something to make sure she didn’t
say anything to anyone. He wouldn’t congratulate her on her thinking skills. Hermione
crossed the stone wall deep in thought, thinking about what they were going to do now. She
agreed with Harry, whoever was going to steal the stone, would use it tonight, taking chances
with Dumbledore’s absence. Hermione also knew he would be coming up with a plan to go
there himself. Harry wouldn’t allow Voldemort to return, not after what happened to his
family. Hermione of course didn’t like the idea of a man like Voldemort returning to power,
not after all the books she read about the first war, but with Harry was personal. The man had
tried to kill him as a baby and killed his parents, his sister was missing.
Her friends were comparing answers, Greg was already desolate, Daphne tried to cheer him
up saying there was still a week till the results were announced. Draco and Theo were already
planning their summer.
“Hey, Hermione,” Blaise called when he spotted her, “where were you the whole afternoon?”
“I was with Harry,” she replied and the rest of the Slytherins made a face of disgust.
“Did he lose any other points?” Greg asked, “that would make me happy.”
Hermione thought of McGonagall storming inside the staffroom. “I think it’s probable.” She
replied and a cheer went around the common room. Hermione rolled her eyes but couldn’t
help but chuckle at Greg wiping away a fake tear.
“I was counting our points earlier,” Pansy said. “As things stand now, we have four hundred
and forty-two points and Ravenclaw has four hundred and twenty-six. I heard the Ravenclaw
Patil talking about it to Goldstein, they were the ones we worried about passing us after you
and Draco lost us a handful.”
“I only lost us twenty,” Draco murmured, and she kicked him on his thigh.
“Anyway,” Pansy waved, “I don’t think Hufflepuff has reached four hundred and of course if
Gryffindor has managed to reach three hundred it’ll be a miracle.”
“It’s ours then,” Blaise said proudly. “I heard Sprout saying there should be a few last-minute
points due to the exams' results. The top three students of each year get ten points.”
Draco grinned proudly and high-fived Theo and after just a bit of consideration, high-fived
Hermione as well. “Thirty more points then,” he said, and Hermione grinned as well.
Robb, the sixth-year prefect entered the dungeons whistling and his eyes glittered when he
spotted them. “Zabini, Professor Snape is calling for you.” The prefect told, laughter in his
voice. “Something about a catastrophic exam score.” He announced to the crowded common
room and almost everyone present winced. Blaise visibly paled.
“Mother is going to kill me,” he muttered and Theo, who was sitting beside him, patted him
comfortingly in the thigh.
“Not if Snape kills you first,” Theo said and Blaise glared at him, but Hermione saw him
squeezing the hand Theo had on his thigh before getting up.
“I’ll meet you guys at the great hall.”

“If you survive,” Pansy and Daphne sing-sung together and he flipped the bird at both girls.
Professor Snape, Hermione had learned, for all his temper and animosity, cared about his
students’ performance and always called the students that had the worst performances to talk
about it or, like Greg had said, threaten to return them to his or her parents in pieces.
They went to the Great Hall for dinner together, Theo and Hermione were comparing
answers and she was happy that most of their answers were the same in the History of Magic
exam. Just as they were about to enter the hall, Hermione spotted Harry and Ron and told
Theo to go ahead.
“You know his father is evil, don’t you?” Ron said as a greeting.
“His father. Theo is very nice.”
“I bet, just as nice as Malfoy.” Ron sneered.
Hermione glared at him and turned to Harry. “I want in. Whatever you are planning to do.
I’m going with you.”
“Hermione—”
“No, Harry, listen. Between the three of us, I’m the best in magic. Sprout, McGonagall,
Quirrell, Snape and Flitwick all did something for the stone. I bet they are all related to their
subjects. You need me.”
“I wasn’t going to deny you,” he said with a smirk and handed her his cloak. “I was going to
tell you to come to pick us outside our common room. It can fit the three of us and no one
will see us on the way to the third floor.”
“Good. At what time?”
“We have to wait for everyone else in Gryffindor to go to bed, they can’t see us leaving the
Common Room after curfew again, they will try to stop us. Meet us outside at ten.”
Snape had told Lupin he didn’t have the habit of entering his daughter’s mind without her
knowledge, but it was getting quite hard to keep his promise of protecting Harry and
Hermione without it. He had thought James and his gang were bad in their Hogwarts years,
but the pair of siblings were proving to be quite a match in their first year.
The moment he found her lurking outside the staffroom he knew they were up to something.
Not even an hour had passed between his warning and finding Hermione outside, his
previous advice clearly ignored. Severus had the upper hand and accessed the situation,
quickly finding that yes, they knew how to get past Fluffy, that fucking oaf telling them
everything, and yes they knew it was Voldemort in the forest waiting for the stone; and
unfortunately, Hermione was losing her belief that Snape didn’t want to steal it for him.
Severus had tried to salvage one of the three situations and learned something new:
Dumbledore had left the castle. The year was almost over, it was too perfect to be a
coincidence. Quirrell was going to act tonight. A quick conversation with McGonagall and
both agreed that the trio would try something and whether they should let Dumbledore have
his way or not.
McGonagall was fuming, calling the Headmaster all sorts of names that had Severus
surprised.
“They are children! Children, Severus!” She paced, the bun slightly misshaped with all the
movement, “He just wants us to do nothing? To let them try?” Her nostrils flared, “He wants
to test Harry and prove that Hermione is Renee, all the while dragging the Weasley kid along!
He’s out of his mind!”
“We have to keep an eye on Quirrell and be sure to know when they move. I don’t think we
can do anything now.”
“I can lock them inside that tower, see if Harry will leave!” Minerva snapped.
“I’m sure the boy will find a way, Minerva.” Severus drawled.
“That bloody cloak! What was Albus thinking?” She cried, “giving the cloak to him! How
are we supposed to keep the students safe when the headmaster goes out handing magical
artefacts that enable them?”
“He gave the cloak to Potter twice.” Severus reminded her, she only glared at him.
“Are we supposed to just watch then? Let them go after Quirrell, after You-Know-Who?
They are children.” Minerva stressed.
“I’m well aware.” He said. Minerva decided Severus wasn’t much help and fuming, left the
staffroom, probably going to watch them in cat form.
Severus decided to put someone in Hermione’s tail, so at least he’d known if the girl decided
to go with her brother and Weasley. He found his sixth-year Prefect and called him. “Mr
Faulkner!” He barked.
“Sir, good evening.”
“Send Mr Zabini to my office. I got his scores results and I want to ask how he managed to
get into Hogwarts without his brains.” He snapped, “never seen anything so catastrophic.” He
said and the boy paled as if his grades had been that bad.
“I will, Sir.”
Severus went to his office to wait. He tried sitting on his chair but found himself too nervous
to stay put and decided to pace around his table. Zabini knocked on his door not long after.
The poor boy looked quite pale.
“You wanted to see me, Sir?”

“Yes. Sit down.” The boy obeyed and Severus stopped his pacing to sit down on his chair. “I
didn’t call you to talk about your grades Mr Zabini,” Severus announced and Zabini almost
slipped from his chair. “They are fine. You ranked eighth in the first-year rankings, fourth in
Slytherin.”
“Oh,” Zabini said, clearly relieved.
“I called you because I need you to keep an eye on Hermione tonight. By tomorrow morning,
I’m sure you are going to learn the full story, but I can’t tell you anything now. I want you to
tell me the moment she leaves the Common Room tonight.”
“You don’t want me to stop her?”
“No,” he said, sighing. “I don’t think she’d let you try and get away with it,” Severus added,
remembering his cloak on fire back in November.
“I don’t think so too.” Zabini agreed.
“You can go,” Severus said and the boy nodded, getting on his feet. “Look miserable when
you meet your friends, I have a reputation to maintain.”
“Certainly Sir,”
Dinner came and everyone was where they were supposed to be. Hermione was at the
Slytherin table, sitting between Theodore and Miss Parkinson, Zabini was doing his job and
sneaking glances at Hermione now and then. Hermione would do well to learn from him one
or two things about sneakiness.
Potter and Weasley were also at the Gryffindor table, but Severus thought it had more to do
with Minerva glowering at them from her seat than anything else. Quirrell was sweating,
squirming and quite honestly, stinking beside him. Severus doubted the man had removed his
turban once since the beginning of the school year. Severus snarled and was pleased to see
Quirrell jump a little beside him.
When dinner ended, he exchanged a look with Minerva, who was already looking quite grim
and forced himself to go back to his office to wait. Zabini would come and he’d go after
them.
Only that waiting turned to be almost unbearable, eight o’clock turned into nine o’clock and
then into ten o’clock and nothing of the boy.
It was half-past eleven when his door banged open and Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson
came hurling through it, both were wearing their pyjamas.
“I’m sorry professor,” Zabini said. Severus’ stomach churned. “I saw her going to bed after
dinner and I stayed in the common room for two hours, I was hidden so she wouldn’t see me
as she exited her room. I swear Professor, she didn’t pass me. I decided to go to the girls’
dormitory, ask for her and Pansy almost hexed me when I woke them up.”
“Blaise made such a ruckus to wake us up that all of us girls woke up, all of us but Hermione.
He asked me if she was there and I said yes because she was, I could see her hair and her
breathing, and he made me go check. She wasn’t there Professor.” Parkinson said and
Severus glared at the girl, “she transfigured one of her pillows, making it look like her hair.
The other pillow was charmed to mimic our chest when sleeping—”
“Fuck.” He cursed and both students winced. “Why did she have to be so intelligent?” He
murmured and got to his feet. Severus was going to cut down her study groups to half next
year, no more advanced transfiguration for her, surely there was a rule somewhere he could
pull.
The transfiguration explained how she evaded Parkinson and the other girls, but how did she
manage to go past Zabini? Hermione would only learn disillusionment charms in the fifth
year and—the cloak.
That fucking cloak of invisibility.
“I know where she went. You better pray I find her alive or else Slytherin is losing every
single point tonight.” He snapped and both pairs of eyes widened in shock. “Go back to your
Common Room. Now!” He roared.
They scurried and Severus left soon after, running to the third-floor corridor. He met the
headmaster there and one look at the old man had Severus wanting to commit murder. “They
went after him.” Albus said, “but you know that already,” he said with a grin.
“I had the Zabini boy to warn me if Hermione left the Common Room.”
“You know that’s not her name Severus.” The man said and Severus scowled. The dog was
still sleeping, and they passed through it easily enough. “I met her and the Weasley boy at the
entrance hall as I was returning.” Severus stilled. “They are both fine, Weasley has a twisted
ankle.”
“And what about Potter?”
“I’m afraid of what we will find,” Dumbledore said and they passed through the other
enchantments with no problem, having the headmaster with you quickened things. But it
didn’t help to ease his rabbiting heart as he saw everything his daughter had gone through.
The devil’s snare, the winged keys, a giant chessboard, the fucking troll and his potions.
They got there just in time. For a second, Severus thought they had been too late. “Harry!”
Dumbledore shouted and wrenched Quirrell from the boy. Severus stared, wide-eyed at what
was at the back of his head. No doubt now why the turban had smelled so bad.
The boy fell and Severus grabbed him before his body reached the floor, he was unconscious,
and Severus felt his body sizing when he noticed he wasn’t breathing. No. He wouldn’t fail
Lily again, no. no. no.
“Harry!” Dumbledore called again and reached them, Quirrell’s body laid on the floor. Albus
got Harry from him and started chanting a series of spells, mumbling and waving his wand
over Harry’s body. Severus took trembling steps back. “He’s alive.” Dumbledore said, “he
survived.”
Severus felt faint. How, how this boy wouldn’t die? How the most powerful wizard of all
time, with a body or not, couldn’t kill him? “How is he alive Albus?” Severus asked.
“Lily.” The headmaster replied, “it’s still Lily. Or maybe it’s his sister this time.”
“What?” He asked, his voice failing him, coming out in a whisper.
“I’ve told you before Severus. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love.
Lily’s love for him, Lily who died for him; his sister, who also was present that night and
tonight—” Severus scowled, “you can’t deny it anymore Severus, you’ve seen the
enchantments, you know quite well she’s the only one bright enough to have gotten them
through here. Not the chess, the chess I’m sure it was the Weasley boy, I’ve seen him play
over Christmas and—”
“Headmaster.”
“Of course, forgive me, I tend to derail.” He said with a grin, Severus found it quite morbid
since he had Harry’s unconscious body in his arms. “His sister, even if that fact remains
unknown to both of them, risked her life for him. Since the year started, they have forged a
friendship that is pure and free of all the prejudice the others around tried to instil in them.
Quirrell couldn’t touch him tonight just like Voldemort couldn’t touch them that night.”
“Weasley did the same thing. Weasley came with Potter just as Hermione did.”
“Weasley is a very loyal friend. Harry is lucky to have such loyal friends. But it’s different
Severus, don’t fool yourself. You’ve seen it just like I have.”
Severus had indeed seen. “I’m going to check on my student, if you are done testing your
ideas with her, that is.” He turned away to leave.
“I understand you are trying to protect yourself,” Albus said and Severus froze, he was glad
to have his face away from the headmaster and put all his Occlumency walls in place when
he turned around again.
“Excuse me?”
“Lily. It pains you to see Harry. Lily’s child with another man. I understand your reservations
towards Hermione, with her in your house.”
“Do you think,” he started, “because of my feelings for Lily, I wish for her other child to be
dead instead of alive and well? Because of jealousy?”
“You can’t tell me you like Harry, Severus.”
“I don’t.” He said, “I find him as arrogant as James. But I don’t wish him dead Albus. Or did
you seem to forget how hard it was to keep the boy alive this year? They found the dog
during their first week in the castle, they faced the troll in a bathroom, you sent them to the
forest where Voldemort was and allowed this lunacy to take place.” He motioned around
them, where Quirrell’s body still lay. “If Hermione is the missing sister, I can only imagine
the double of the work I will have to do, with the amount of trouble they seem to get
themselves into.”
“You know it’s her Severus.”
“Prove it to me.” He said, demanded even. Dumbledore smiled and Severus still had his
Occlumency to keep his emotions in check. “Call Lupin here, have him prove it once and for
all.”
“I can’t.” Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling, “I can’t ask anything of Lupin, not yet.”
“Why not?”
“Everything has your own time.”
Severus had had enough, he turned around and left, leaving Dumbledore to deal with the
mess he made.
Hermione was in the hospital wing with Weasley, who was telling in detail everything that
had taken place that night to Minerva.
“Professor!” Hermione cried and Severus felt relief running through him when his girl came
in his direction, scratched, but well, alive. “Where’s Harry? We found Dumbledore and--”
“Potter’s fine. He’s unconscious but he’s going to be fine. Dumbledore is bringing him now.”
And as he said that, the doors opened again, allowing Dumbledore and the boy in his arms.
“Put him here.” Madam Pomfrey said and muttered a series of things that went lost to him,
certainly her displeasure with the night’s events.
“We need to retrieve Quirrell’s body.” Dumbledore said, “I’m afraid he didn’t survive
Voldemort’s possession and sharing such a darkened soul.”
“And the stone, Headmaster?” Minerva asked.
“I believe it’s better to be destroyed, I will have to owl my friend Nicolas to talk about it. It
proved to be too dangerous, too much of a temptation.”
Minerva gave a curt nod; her displeasure was clear in her face.
“There are too many people in here.” Madam Pomfrey snapped. “Harry is—he’s critic
headmaster.” She said, “he’s going to survive of course, but I need to work on him. I must ask
you to leave.”
“Certainly, certainly.” Dumbledore said, “We still have things to do tonight. Mr Weasley,
please accompany your Head of House back to the Gryffindor Tower. Miss Granger,
Professor Snape will lead you to the Slytherin Dungeons. Amazing work, both of you,
amazing work.”
Severus noticed, curiously, how Hermione had taken to glaring at Dumbledore since he told
her the news that Harry was going to be fine.
He took her to the dungeons, and she followed him in silence, well, as silent as she could be
with all her huffing and scowling. Hermione exploded when they reached the stone wall. “He
knew!” She exclaimed and threw her leg down in a tantrum. “I was dragging Ron back, we
were going to the owlery to owl Dumbledore, only to find him in the Entrance Hall. He took
a single glance at us and said ‘he went after him, didn’t he?’” She said in a passable imitation
of Dumbledore’s tone. Severus felt warm inside in learning that the headmaster’s tone
annoyed his daughter as much as it annoyed him. “I’ve been thinking and the enchantments,
they—” she huffed in annoyance, “it was like they were tailor-made. The Devil’s Snare is a
plant we learned during our first month here in Hogwarts! What Defence Against the Dark
Arts teacher, fake or not, wouldn’t be able to get past it?” She exclaimed, throwing her arms
in the air. Severus just watched. “Everyone knows that Ron is the best wizard chess player in
the castle, gigantic or not. Having to fly? Harry is the youngest Seeker in a century! And
honestly professor, your puzzle was just too easy.”
He arched an eyebrow at her. Hermione had clearly taken after him in terms of modesty.
“What do you want me to say, Miss Granger?”
“That I’m thinking too highly of myself!” She snapped, “That everything that happened
tonight—no, the entire year, wasn’t on purpose. Hagrid told us everything we needed to
know about Fluffy, you told Draco to keep me away from Harry in the forest because you
knew what was there. Everything that happened this year served a purpose and it was to get
Harry down there! And it’s—it’s—he could have died! It was dangerous. If I hadn’t gone,
he’d get suffocated by the devil’s snare. He had no idea what the plant was!”
“You are right Miss Granger.”
“I know I’m right!” She snapped, and his eyebrow went even higher. “I’ve been right about
everything this year; I knew it was Quirrell and he didn’t believe me!”
The stone wall opened and Zabini and Parkinson came out of it, the others started appearing
as well. “We heard her shouting, we thought—” Zabini said and Snape looked at the dozen
faces and craning necks. He sighed.
“Get back inside all of you.” He snarled, “I need to tell you something.”
They all obeyed and Hermione, still fuming, marched inside. What a temper. Severus called
the rest of the students and they appeared, one after another, wrapped in duvets or
nightgowns. It was almost three in the morning and they were barely awake, but Severus
decided to tell them now and tell them himself before Hermione shared her version of the
story.
He told them. Hermione glared throughout the story. He told them about their year-long
suspicions of Quirrell and about why the third-floor corridor had been out of bounds that
year. He told them about the stone and all the enchantments between the dog and the mirror;
they listened attentively to Hermione and everything they had to do to pass each test. Snape
told them about what he had seen when he found Potter and Hermione resumed her glaring to
the floor. He told them, these students who had parents and relatives that served the Dark
Lord in the first war, that You-Know-who wasn’t dead, but he was without a body and was
trying very hard to return. He told them, quite clearly, that what happened to Quirrell, would
happen to anyone greedy enough to try to help him.
When Severus finished, they were all staring at Hermione like she had grown a second head
and that she was the most amazing thing that had ever happened to them. In that, Severus
could agree. “Go back to sleep. In three days, you will be getting on the train home, try not to
lose the house cup until then.
Ron Weasley had been kind enough to tell her that Harry had woken up and they went
together to see him. He told them what happened in the last room and how he had the stone in
his pocket and everything that Dumbledore had told him, about why Quirrell couldn’t touch
him. Hermione was sniffling by the time he finished telling about the power of a love as
powerful as his mother’s. Harry also told them Snape had been trying to save him the entire
year, not trying to kill him as he had thought, and Hermione couldn’t help but say ‘I told you
so’ to that.
“He hated my father and my father saved his life. Dumbledore says it was his way of
repaying him.” Harry told them.
They also told him how they got back, and Hermione felt angry again as Harry defended
Dumbledore. “He’s a funny man, Dumbledore. I think he sort of wanted to give me a chance.
I think he knows more or less everything that goes on here, you know. I reckon he had a
pretty good idea we were going to try, and instead of stopping us, he just taught us enough to
help. I don’t think it was an accident he let me find out how the mirror worked. It’s almost
like he thought I had the right to face Voldemort if I could….” She didn’t like the thought of
that, she didn’t like that she and Ron were dragged into a game they had no business playing,
that they risked their lives just so Dumbledore could prove something.
Comparing to the Start of the Term Feast, the End of the Term was much louder, almost
chaotic. Of course, the entire castle already knew what had happened with Quirrell and
everyone was talking about it as well; Hermione refused to leave the Common Room alone,
in fear people would swarm her like they did when the story spread, she went everywhere
with Theo beside her, even if he complained the entire time. People feared Theo’s father
more than Draco annoyed them.
Hermione was listening to Pansy, the girl was already making plans for their summer, writing
in a sheet of parchment where she would be going for each week. Hermione laughed when
Pansy announced she had a week open for the manor. “I haven’t even invited you,” Draco
said.
“But you will,” Pansy waved him off, “You need to invite all of us Draco, for at least a
weekend.”
“Yeah, I heard Hermione stayed I whole week after Yule, it’s not fair,” Daphne said, crossing
her arms.
“Alright,” Draco said, pretending to be annoyed, Hermione knew better. He loved being the
centre of attention. “I will talk to mother; we have enough rooms for all of us anyway.”
Beside her, Blaise asked Theo, “you can come over if you want. Mother won’t mind having
you, now that she’s single again, she will barely be at home, out to find another husband.”
“Thanks,” Theo replied and Hermione, curious as she was, drowned out the other’s ruckus to
hear him. “I don’t think father will allow it though.”
“You can say you will stay at The Manor.” Blaise said, “or you could really stay at The
Manor. Don’t stay with your father, Theo.”
“I don’t want to,” Theo said and Blaise nodded, their conversation over for now.
Theo was probably the only one besides Harry dreading to go home. She had heard Harry’s
stories and Hermione hated to think that Theo’s might be similar, or worse.
Speaking of Harry, the boy appeared at the Great Hall’s doors. A hush fell over the hall, with
every conversation stilling and then starting again loudly. She caught Harry's name in almost
every mouth, a few people were even standing over their chairs to look at him.
Everyone only fell quiet when Dumbledore arrived moments later. “Another year has gone!”
Dumbledore said cheerfully. “And I must trouble you with an old man’s wheezing waffle
before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully, your
heads are all a little fuller than they were. You have the whole summer ahead to get them nice
and empty before next year starts!” He said and a feel people chuckled. Hermione tried not to
glare at him again, she was still annoyed at him, even more after her talk with Harry.
“Now, as I understand it, the house cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus: In
fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and twelve points; in third, Hufflepuff, with
three hundred and fifty-two; Ravenclaw has four hundred and twenty-six and Slytherin, four
hundred and seventy-two.” Hermione and her friends cheered and Hermione looked up
proudly to the green and silver banners over their heads. “Yes, Yes, well done, Slytherin,”
Dumbledore said, “However, recent events must be taken into account.”
Hermione stilled and the room went very still as well. She saw her friends and the other
Slytherins dropping their smiles. Penelope Padgett, the seventh-year prefect that had sneered
at them whenever they lost points had gone red and Hermione could swear fumes were
leaving her ears. “Ahem,” Dumbledore said. “I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let
me see. Yes… First to Mr Ronald Weasley, for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has
seen in many years, I award Gryffindor house fifty points.”
Hermione’s heart was hammering in her chest. The Gryffindors cheered and the walls seemed
to tremble with the strength of it. Pansy was already scowling. At last, there was silence
again.
“Second, to Miss Hermione Granger, for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award the
Slytherin house fifty points.” Hermione buried her face in her arms and her friends around
her cheered, their smiles all back in their faces. But their happiness didn’t last long. “Third, to
Mr Harry Potter” Dumbledore began, and the room went deadly quiet again. “For pure nerve
and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house a hundred and fifty points.”
The din was deafening. Hermione had added up the points while the Gryffindor yelled
themselves hoarse. “They passed Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff.” She told them. “They are ten
points behind us.”
“For one second I thought—” Blaise stopped midsentence, for Dumbledore had raised his
hand again.
“No.” Pansy bit, “No.”
“There are all kinds of courage,” Dumbledore said with a smile and Hermione knew nothing
good would come for them. “It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but
just as much to stand up to our friends. I, therefore, award twenty points to Mr Neville
Longbottom.”
“This is bullshit!” Someone along the Slytherin table yelled just as the entire castle shook.
The Gryffindors were all yelling and celebrating; even the Ravenclaws and the Hufflepuffs
were celebrating as well, happy to see Slytherin lose the cup for the first time in six years.
It was an unbearable noise coming from the three other tables and the Slytherins looked at
each other in a horrified stupor. “Which means,” Dumbledore called over the storm of
applause and the boos from her table. “We need a little change of decoration!” He said and
with a clap of his hands, the green banners became red and gold with the Gryffindor crest.
Hermione felt her eyes burning and her throat closing, she really wanted to cry.
“Welcome,” Penelope said, voice loud enough to carry throughout their table, “To
Hogwarts.” It didn’t sound like a welcome at all.
“I did—” Hermione started and surprisingly, it was Draco who cut her off.
“It’s not your fault.” He said, “that’s exactly what father always said.” Draco scowled and
even he found the food tasteless after their humiliating loss.
“The points distribution—” Theo scoffed. “Really? Longbottom deserved twenty points for
standing up to his friends?” He rolled his eyes, “Hermione should have earned another fifty
just for that!”
“A hundred!” Blaise said and his green eyes were burning in rage.
“Fifty for playing chess?” Pansy laughed, “I doubt he learned a single spell this year! This is
absurd!”
“He just wanted Gryffindor to win this year and decided to give points away as he thought
fit.” Theo said, “unlucky for him, he couldn’t do that without awarding Hermione points. I
bet he did all kinds of math to find the numbers he needed. That stupid loon.”
The only thing that cheered her a bit, was the results of their exams. Severus handed them
their scores and she even got congratulations from him for her seven Outstandings. She came
in the first place, to no one’s surprise and Draco came second, with an Exceed Expectations
for Transfiguration. Theo was in third and he too got an Exceed Expectations for
Transfiguration, but his overall scores were a single point lower than Draco’s.
What surprised them was that both Vince and Greg managed to pass everything, they even
hugged Hermione for her effort and they all laughed. Snape watched the scene with visible
aversion.
Soon they were piling themselves inside the Hogwarts Express, Hermione let them go ahead,
knowing they’d save a seat for her. She found Harry in a compartment with Ron and he
showed her the photo album that Hagrid had given him.
“There are so many pictures, look.” He showed her excitedly. There were indeed many
pictures, most of them were of his parents in Hogwarts, but there was also a few from their
wedding and baby Harry and his missing sister. The girl didn’t have the same eyes as Harry,
but their hair was of the same colour.
The three of them talked for a bit and then Hermione left them just as the train began rolling.
She found her friends and she saw that they indeed had saved her a seat. Differently from
Christmas break, when the girls sat all together; this time she sat beside Draco with Theo,
Blaise, Pansy and Daphne.
“Theo’s going to stay with Blaise for the first two weeks,” Draco told her, Hermione was glad
that Blaise had managed to convince Theo, “Pansy said she can come mid-July, after her trip
to France with her parents. They and Daphne said that works for them too. Mid-July, that is.
Do you think you can come too?”
“Yeah,” Hermione felt someone kicking her feet, but she didn’t see who, because she was too
busy grinning at Draco. “I think I can. My parents didn’t say anything about travelling this
summer.”
“Great.” Draco smiled. “That makes everyone.” He said, “Greg and Vince always come, the
other girls said they might come too.”
She was excited about summer.
Chapter End Notes
The title of this chapter and the quote, in the beginning, belong to Meet me in the
Hallway by harry styles
author.
I wanna hold your hand while we're growing up
Chapter Notes
Hello! Hope you enjoy this new chapter! We finished the first year last year and now we
are going to enjoy the summer with them before they return for the second year.
As always, I love reading your comments and I'm going to reply to all of the new ones
as soon as I can! I love reading your thoughts and suspicions!
past love,
burned out like a cigarette
I promise, darling, you won't regret the best years
Chapter Eight
Summer of 1992
Hermione had been talking her parents’ ears off since the moment she stepped down on the
train and met them on the other side of the platform. The car journey back was spent again
with Hermione’s monologue about everything that happened since Christmas. Well, not
exactly everything because the mention of her and Harry carrying Norbert, the baby dragon
under a cloak of invisibility was enough to have her parents ranting about security measures
again.
So, Hermione decided to edit the events of her school year in a more family-approved
version. She told them about Voldemort and the Philosopher’s Stone as something that she
had no part in and only learned everything from Harry. Her mother cried when Hermione
showed her the school’s year report and saw that Hermione had scored full marks in every
subject. “I was top of my class, mum! Professor Flitwick said no one had ever scored as high
as I did in his exam!” She said proudly, and her mother beamed at her.
“That’s my girl!”
Hermione enjoyed her first month of summer with her parents; she went hiking with her
father and accompanied him in his fishing trips—she always with a book reading out loud for
both of them. She also had to have a very long conversation with her mother about periods
and Hermione blushed thinking about how to ask Narcissa about the magical versions of
tampons and pads.
Her cousins came to visit and both Hermione and her parents felt uncomfortable throughout
their entire visit because most conversations were stilled as the majority of Hermione’s recent
life events had to be kept in secret. She felt even further apart from them and the other
children in her neighbourhood. Her favourite bookshop now seemed dull in comparison to
the Hogwarts library and the one at Malfoy Manor.
“It’s not the same anymore,” Hermione told her mother one evening as they walked back to
their house, “I mean, it was nicer when the kind man worked there and gave me free books,
but now, reading fantasy has lost its appeal when it has become something that you’ve seen.”
“Well, I will read it,” her mother said and picked one of the books she had gotten, “I haven’t
seen any dragons, so it’s still a good read for me.”
Hermione laughed merrily, “did you know they grow so fast as almost doubling their size in a
matter of days?”
“Of course, I didn’t,” her mother replied, rolling her eyes.
It was very nice, spending time with her parents, but Hermione was beyond herself when the
first owl appeared on her window. She had yet to receive a reply from Harry. Hermione
hadn’t written to the others, since she knew they were busy with their trips.
The letter was from the Malfoys, she recognized Draco’s eagle owl.
Hermione,
Father says Hogwarts will send out the school list on August twelfth. We can meet at Diagon
Alley and you can return with us after our shopping and spend the remaining of the summer
at The Manor.
Mother says August nineteenth works better for her.
Theo and Blaise are going to arrive on the twenty-first, along with Vince. The girls and Greg
will arrive on the twenty-third.
Owl me back.
Draco Malfoy
“Mum!” Hermione called excitedly, “can we go to Diagon Alley on August nineteenth?

Draco invited me to stay over. He said I can meet him there and spend the rest of the summer
with him and the others. Everyone will be there.”
“Oh, God. Everyone?” Her mother asked, “where will all of you fit?”
“Mum, Draco lives in a mansion! There are loads and loads of rooms.”
“Oh my, do you want to go then?”
“Yes!”
“Alright, I can’t see why not. August nineteenth, you say?” Hermione nodded and her mother
sighed. “A fortnight till then.”
The two weeks before her trip to Diagon Alley was spent in movie marathons with her
parents and catching up on what she would have seen in year seven in a muggle school
because her mother thought it was important for Hermione to still have a good base in math,
science, geography and history.
At Diagon Alley, Hermione found Harry and the Weasleys before she found Draco, for her
parents’ misery and probably life-long trauma. Mr Weasley had so many questions, absurd
questions that Hermione had to leave them on their own so she could laugh.
Thankfully Mrs Weasley saved them as she stirred her husband in another direction and they
left Hermione and her parents to exchange money in peace. “He was—” her father started;
her mother was already stifling giggles. “Quite odd.”
“A lot of wizards haven’t seen or interacted with muggles before,” Hermione said, “it’s quite
—” she tried to find a word that better described it, but her mother beat her to it.
“Bizarre.”
Money exchanged, Hermione and her parents met Harry and the Weasley again at the marble
steps in front of Gringotts, where Mr Weasley dragged her parents for a drink at the Leaky
Cauldron. Hermione only grimaced at her parents’ expressions as they left. Hermione thought
that was probably the last time her parents would be accompanying her to Diagon Alley.
She strolled around with Harry and Ron, Harry bought them all ice cream and told them
about his encounter with Draco and Lucius at Borgin & Burkes. “His father was berating him
for coming second to you,” Harry told her and Hermione made a face, hoping Draco
wouldn’t be completely unpleasant after a month with his father.
When it was time to meet up at Flourish and Blotts they found that the store was crowded
with people, much more than the usual students and parents buying schoolbooks. “Who is
he?” Ron asked because on the window was a large banner announcing a signing event from
the man who wrote most of their schoolbooks for the year.
“We can meet him!” Hermione squealed. “He wrote almost everything we will be using this
year!” She said excitedly and along with Harry and Ron tried to squeeze past the many
women inside. Hermione bumped on quite a lot of people in trying to avoid hitting the books.
Gilderoy Lockhart was very handsome and had a very dazzling smile, accompanied by very
white teeth. His robes matched his eyes and Hermione found herself sighing at the man in
front of the crowd. Someone jostled Ron out of the way and he snapped, but Hermione didn’t
bother looking away from the man who was staring to her left at where Harry was.
“It can’t be Harry Potter?”
The crowd parted, whispering excitedly, giving space for Gilderoy Lockhart to seize Harry by
the arm and get his assistant to click away dozens of pictures. Hermione winced and felt
sorry for Harry, especially when the man threw an arm around him and clamped Harry to his
side.
Someone poked her on her side, Hermione turned around and found Draco, hidden from view
from the rest, his body leaning on a bookshelf.
“Draco!” She said and grinned at him.

“You are going back to the manor with us, aren’t you?” He asked.
“Yeah.” She nodded and he grinned at her.
“Cool.”
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Gilderoy Lockhart said loudly, waving for quiet. “What an
extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I’ve
been sitting on for some time!” Draco rolled his eyes at that.
“He’s going to teach us, that’s the announcement,” he muttered and Hermione’s eyes
widened.
“When young Harry here stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, he only wanted to buy my
autobiography—” Hermione scoffed and Draco mimicked fainting beside her, she giggled.
“Which I shall be happy to present him now, free of charge—” The crowd applauded. “He
had no idea,” Lockhart continued, shaking Harry a little, “that he would shortly be getting
much, much more than my book, Magical Me. He and his schoolmates will, in fact, be
getting the real magical me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride in
announcing that this September, I will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts
teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!”
“Father says he’s stupid,” Draco said and Hermione was quite used to his tone by now. “But I
guess he’s better than Quirrell.”
“As in he knows the subject, or he won’t try to kill us by the end of the year?”
“I hope he doesn’t try to kill us,” he said with a snort. The crowd was still cheering and
clapping, and Hermione watched as their new professor put his entire work on Harry’s hand.
Finally, Harry managed to escape and came to the edge of the room, standing by Ron’s sister.
Draco poked her again and with a smirk, announced, “it’s my time to shine.”
“Draco, don’t—”
“Bet you loved that, didn’t you, Potter?” Draco said as he passed Hermione and she took a
long breath. Gone was his easy grin and in place was his usual sneer. “Famous Harry Potter,”
he said. “Can’t even go into a bookshop without making the front page.”
“Leave him alone, he didn’t want all that!” Ron’s sister said as she glared at Draco.
“Potter, you’ve got yourself a girlfriend!” Draco drawled and Ginny went scarlet, Ron was
fighting his way over and Hermione decided to interject before it escalated.
“Oh, it’s you,” Ron said, his usual look of distaste when faced with Draco. Honestly,
Hermione sometimes understood. “Bet you’re surprised to see Harry here, eh?”
“Not as surprised as I am to see you in a shop, Weasley,” he retorted. “I suppose your parents
will go hungry for a month to pay for all those.”
“Draco!” Hermione snapped and he pretended to not hear her. Ron made for Draco, but both
she and Harry caught him by his jacket. Hermione glared at Draco over Ron’s red.
“Ron!” Mr Weasley appeared, bringing her mom and dad with him. “What are you doing?
It’s too crowded in here, let’s go outside.”
“Well, well, well — Arthur Weasley.” Hermione went cold. Draco’s eyes met Hermione’s and
the same thing seemed to pass in their minds. Her parents and Lucius weren’t a good idea to
have in the same place.
Hermione squeezed past, going for her parents. She heard Mr Weasley greeting Lucius.
“Busy time at the Ministry, I hear,” Mr Malfoy said. “All those raids, I hope they’re paying
you overtime?”
“Come on,” Hermione tugged her parents, “not a good idea.” She murmured; her father
narrowed his eyes at her.
Hermione couldn’t and wouldn’t explain why she willingly wanted to spend time at the
Malfoy’s house when the entire family disliked, not to say hated, her parents for something
so stupid.
“Obviously not,” Mr Malfoy said. “Dear me, what’s the use of being a disgrace to the name
of wizard if they don’t even pay you well for it?”
“We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy,” Arthur said
and Hermione had almost succeeded to pull her parents away when Lucius’ eyes found her
father’s.
“Clearly,” Lucius said. “The company you keep, Weasley, and I thought your family could
sink no lower—”
They escaped the bookshop just as Mr Weasley had thrown himself at Lucius.
“Oh my!” Her mother exclaimed, the scene inside the bookshop was quite a sight, as dozens
of books came thundering down as they knocked on the bookshelves.
“What was that all about?” her father asked, tone angry.
“They don’t like each other.” Hermione said the obvious, her father only glared harder, “they
have a different point of view in a lot of things.”
“That man was being very offensive towards Arthur. No man should disrespect another in
front of his own family,” he said, “not to mention, ridicule him because of money!”
“I know dad, he’s not—” she stopped because Hagrid was wading towards both men, his size
bringing all the attention to him at once. Hagrid easily separated both men and Hermione saw
that Mr Weasley had a cut lip and that Lucius had a blackened eye, Hermione didn’t know
whether it came from a punch or a book.
Mr Malfoy said something to Ginny that, from outside the store Hermione and her parents
couldn’t hear. Draco and his father left the shop and he was so angry that he didn’t even
notice Hermione standing outside, Draco mouthed later at her.
Hermione and her parents entered the bookshop again and Hermione caught the tail end of
what Hagrid was saying. “Yeh should’ve ignored him, Arthur. Rotten ter the core, the whole
family, everyone knows that— no Malfoy’s worth listenin’ ter— bad blood, that’s what it is
— come on now— let’s get outta here.”
Hermione lowered her head, ashamed. Draco was her friend, or she thought, hoped even,
ridiculously. She knew a part of her knew that Draco wasn’t a very nice person and that
maybe, her desire to befriend him, was more of an unconscious desire to be accepted by him
as if she needed some kind of approval of her worth from him.
She looked up and found her father glaring yet again at her. “I recognize now, the name.” He
said and Hermione cringed.
“He’s the father of the boy that has a mansion. His mother sent you that beautiful dress. Is
this the kind of people you want to be friends with?” Her mother asked.
“No.” She muttered; eyes downcast. “They are—it’s not—” she sighed. There wasn’t
anything she could use to defend them other than they’ve been nice to me.
Hermione and her parents resumed their shopping, soon Hermione had everything she needed
for the new school year, all the many books—she again managed to convince her parents to
slip two or three more books into her cauldron. She also had to buy more parchment and ink,
having gone through most of it the year before. Finally, they returned to the Leaky Cauldron,
where they had stored her trunk with the rest of her things.
“Do you still want to go to his house?” Her father asked. Lucius and Draco were standing
near the Floo Fireplace. Hermione’s father didn’t want to go near Lucius, he said he thought
he wouldn’t be able to be polite. Hermione thought it was for the best.
“Yes.” She mumbled, “the others will be there. Blaise and Daph, Pansy as well. Even Theo, I
miss them.”
“I don’t like this.” Her father said and sighed. “But I know how I’ve raised you. And I’m
proud of the work me and your mother have done. I trust you to know what’s best for you.”
“Thank you.” She said and hugged each of them goodbye.
When she met the Malfoys, Lucius still had a blackened eye was looking positively
murderous, but he managed to nod at her somewhat pleasantly, Hermione thought it was the
only reason why her father allowed her to follow Draco inside the Floo.
Narcissa was waiting for them in the drawing-room, she had a smile on that dropped the
moment she saw her husband’s face. She turned to Hermione first, because Narcissa still had
manners and was an incredible host. “Hermione, dear, it’s so nice to see you again,” Narcissa
said with a smile. “Dobby!” She called and Hermione noticed he looked a lot more ragged
than he was over Christmas. “Take Hermione’s things to her room.”
“Of course, Mrs Malfoy” the elf squeaked and with a pop disappeared with Hermione’s
things.
“Now, tell me, Lucius, what happened with your eye?” Narcissa asked, just as Draco began
pulling her away.
“That flea-bitten, Muggle-loving fool Arthur Weasley—”
Hermione and Draco missed whatever Lucius said next because they crossed the door from
the drawing-room and Lucius’ voice got cut off.
Draco took her to the room she’d be staying in, the same as last Christmas, and Draco
promptly threw himself over the bed she’d be sleeping in a show of ‘this is my house'.
“How was your summer?” She asked and began unpacking a few of her things.
“Boring.” He drawled and sprawled his limbs on top of the bed. Hermione glared at him.
“Father and Uncle Sev are at odds about something. Uncle Sev came here a few times and
they would argue for hours every time.”
“Did you hear anything interesting?” she asked.
“Nothing that I could make sense of. Father wants to do something, and Uncle disapproves,
and he said something about Father not having control over it. Mother dragged me away
when she caught me eavesdropping. Now the entire manor has anti-eavesdropping charms in
every room.”
“Oh, that’s why we couldn’t hear the rest of your father’s euphonious.”
“I have no idea what you said but I will take it as sarcastic,” he said and she smirked. “And
why, pray tell, are you doing that without your wand?” He asked, finally getting up from the
bed and walking towards her.
“Because we can’t use magic outside of Hogwarts.” She said in an obvious tone and Draco
looked at her as if she had grown a second head.
“Yeah, but no one will know.” He said, “the manor is one of the most magical places in
Britain, we are just behind Hogwarts, the ministry and St. Mungus. We can do whatever and
no one will even notice.” He explained and to prove his point he waved his wand and
Hermione clothes all arranged themselves in the drawer and her books over the dresser.
“Why you didn’t say that over Christmas?” Hermione asked.
“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “I thought you knew.”
Well, she didn’t, but she couldn’t help but grab her wand and twirl it around, feeling her
magic. She had missed this feeling.
They talked for a bit, knowing that it was better to wait for Narcissa or an elf to come get
them, instead of walking into a row between Draco’s parents. Narcissa had looked quite
angry at the sight of Lucius.
Draco told her of what he knew about Theo and Blaise’s summer so far and Hermione was
excited to see all of them again.
When one of the elves popped to inform that dinner was ready, Hermione and Draco found
Draco’s parents already at the table, Lucius’ black eye was gone.
“Hermione, how was your summer?” Narcissa asked after they all sat down.
“It was nice. I went hiking and fishing with my dad and watched movies with my mum.” She
said.
Lucius, who was chewing, suddenly looked like the food tasted terrible. Hermione, after the
performance at Diagon Alley, knew it wasn’t the food at all. Draco was sitting very still
beside her.
“That sounds nice,” Narcissa said, her voice was fake and practised and Hermione blushed.
The Malfoys didn’t seem to have a problem with her, for some reason that Hermione hadn’t
figured out yet, but it was clear that it didn’t reach her parents.
“I don’t enjoy fishing or hiking, I find it quite boring, but watching movies is nice, especially
when it’s about something that we know it exists, but for muggles, it’s just myths.”
“I never watched a movie,” Draco murmured under his breath, but it wasn’t low enough to
escape the glare his father sent him.
The rest of dinner was spent in pleasant conversation that didn’t mention muggles. Narcissa
told her that she was going to donate quite a sum to Flourish and Blots to apologize for
whatever unpleasantries that might have surfaced after the day’s events. Hermione couldn’t
wait to see what kind of new books the bookshop would have after a donation.
After dinner, Draco and she found themselves in pyjamas and surrounded by the fifteen
pillows in Draco’s four-poster bed. He had a slight redness to his cheeks when he asked her
about what she meant by fishing. It had escaped her that probably all of the Malfoys hadn’t
understood what she said over dinner.
The next morning, Draco groaned over breakfast when his mother told him that it wasn’t
because Hermione was there that his tutoring would be over. Draco glared at his eggs for the
rest of the meal.
She could understand, because in the next two days, as they explored the contents of their
school books and practised the things they’d be seeing beforehand, his mother or an elf
would come and fetch him for French lessons, piano lessons, speech lessons, dance lessons,
political lessons and things that Hermione didn’t even know existed tutoring for.
It finally made sense the way Draco mostly behaved like a little lord: he was being raised to
be one. Often, he’d leave her wearing casual clothes and come back in formal robes, only to
shrug them off haphazardly while huffing in annoyance.
Blaise and Theo arrived after breakfast on her third day at the manor, while Hermione and
Draco were out in the gazebo.
“This summer is looking like a funeral,” Blaise announced, and Hermione snapped her head
up, finding him standing a few meters behind them, Theo on his side.
“Blaise!” She greeted with a smile, “Theo!”
“Hello Granger,” Blaise said and both boys reached them. Draco and Blaise knocked fists
with each other, and Blaise did the same with her. Theo nodded at her and sat down next to
Draco.
“How was Italy?” Draco asked.
“Good,” Blaise grinned, “look, Theo even managed to get some colour,” Blaise said and
pulled on Theo’s shirt, showing her a slightly red shoulder. The boy’s cheek matched his
shoulder.
Hermione laughed, “You should have taken Draco with you, sometimes I see him and think
it’s a ghost, with how pale he looks.”
Draco glared and pushed her thigh away with his leg, she did the same back. “I thought there
was a ghoul in the manor this morning, only to realize it was you after waking up.” He said
and they glared at each other.
Theo snorted.
“Well, it’s nice to see you two are already best friends,” Blaise said sarcastically.
Draco rolled his eyes and made a face at Hermione one more time before shifting his
attention back to Theo “I thought you would be away for two weeks only,” he mentioned.
“Yeah, but Blaise held me, hostage, in the Sicilian beaches.”
“I’m sure you suffered a lot.” Draco drawled and Theo nodded, Hermione saw him sneaking
a glance at Blaise, who had one eye closed and the other squinting, the sun right on his face.
“I did,” Theo said and Blaise snorted.
“Anyway,” Blaise said, rearranging his limbs, “our book list, what was all of that about?”
Draco scowled, “the new Defense teacher.”
“Someone got a crush on him or something?”

Draco snorted. “Yeah. He has a crush on himself. He’s the new teacher, it was announced
already, didn’t you see?”
“I didn’t read the newspaper yet. I save reading for Hogwarts only.” He said and Hermione
honestly to God gasped, it was almost like he had offended her. All the boys laughed, and
Blaise turned to her, his best grin in place. Hermione thought he got even more handsome
over the break. “I missed you.” He said with fondness and Hermione grinned.
Draco kicked at her again. “Stop that,” he said, “you look ugly.”
“You are so annoying,” Hermione rolled her eyes.
“Have you two been like this for the past days?”
“Nah,” Theo said, shaking his head. He looked like he held all the secrets of the universe in
his smile. “They are putting on a show. Merlin forbids we think they are friends.” This time
Draco threw his glare at Theo.
They talked through the afternoon and a little before dinner Vince came through the Floo.
The days between the boys’ arrival and the girls’ were spent in laziness and with boys being
boys: competing about everything, making fun of each other and daring each other for the
most ridiculous things. Hermione was glad when Pansy and Daphne finally arrived.
Lucius wasn’t so glad, he showed up less and less during the meals, Narcissa always giving
an excuse for her husband. Hermione knew he wasn’t a very big fan of eight children in the
same place. Even if the place was as huge as the manor.
Narcissa, being Narcissa, said that it wasn’t because they were all together that their tutoring
would be forgotten and many times a day an elf would pop and announce the arrival of a
different tutor for one of them. The only ones to escape were Hermione and Blaise. These
times would leave both of them to talk and Hermione would fall victim to Blaise’s
unstopping tale about his summer with Theo. She noticed how he’d retell the stories, but in a
more detailed way. Hermione realised she could probably explain the exact way Theo’s
eyelashes created shadows on his cheeks when the sun shone on him and that he’d freckle
under the sun, not only on his face but on his collarbones as well. Like she said, a lot more
detail.
Theo, in turn, was so quiet that she could count in her fingers the times he spoke to her. He
also hadn’t glared at her at all, instead, she’d usually find him looking at her, the same
furrowed expression he had while studying. More than once, she found him holding his
breath when Lucius talked to her as if waiting for the Malfoy man to strike her or offend her.
When nothing of the sort happened, he’d resume his observation. Hermione was beginning to
grow used to always having his eyes on her when it suddenly stopped. One morning he was
in his usual staring behaviour during breakfast, but then Narcissa asked him to stay behind
for a moment and when he found them again, his eyes didn’t stop on her not even once.
One Saturday, they decided to use the duelling hall to practice. Hermione drew up a playoffs
board with all their names and Hermione took advantage of their complete unawareness of
anything muggle to pretend that she had come up with the system.
The first round had been decided on a draw, which had Draco and Pansy, Theo and Daphne
on one side, and Blaise and Greg, Vince and Hermione, on the other. Draco, of course,
wanted to go first, so he and Pansy were the first ones to duel. Hermione finally learned what
Theo had explained to her that first week of classes as she watched the twelve-year-old
royalties bowing at each other.
Pansy surprised Hermione with the jinxes she threw, the girl had a very good knowledge of
hexes and jinxes, but without proper learning of them, their effects weren’t so strong and
most of them didn’t do much when they hit Draco.
They fired spells at each other and in twenty minutes, Draco had begun singing something
after a successful Cantis, Pansy in return had danced after Draco’s Tarantallegra and when
Draco threw a Langlock on her, keeping her from speaking, he won the duel after knocking
Pansy off with a Flipendo.
Blaise and Greg were next, and they all cheered for Greg even though the boy had no chance
of winning against Blaise. They threw spells at each other and Greg’s poor aim had a chair
being thrown back on the wall with a loud bang. They all looked at each other and to the
door, waiting for one of the Malfoys to come barging in. When nothing happened, they
resumed their duel and they all cheered when Greg threw a successful Jelly-Legs jinx on
Blaise. Blaise retaliated and this time it was Greg who was sent back with a bang, thankfully
Theo had the forethought of placing many pillows behind both of them.
Theo and Daphne were next and much like Draco’s and Pansy’s duel, both of them were very
good at duelling, Theo cast things that Hermione had never heard of, Daphne was very good
at shielding it and rebounding them, which had the ones watching ducking and jumping away
every time a jinx was rebounded.
Vince and Greg cheered loudly every time a piece of furniture from the duelling hall was hit.
Hermione had begun wondering if the anti-eavesdropping spells in the manor kept the loud
bangs and crashes from being heard. Surely Narcissa wouldn’t like her furniture being sent in
different directions or turned into ducks.
Theo won because Daphne had gotten so embarrassed when he made her bald that she
dropped her wand to take her hands to her head and he sent her away flying. Her bald head
hit Blaise in the chest, and she snarled at him. “This is not how you treat a lady.”
Theo rolled his eyes, “I saw you practising the jinx that inflates testicles before we started.”
He said and Hermione, Pansy and Blaise choked on air. “I was being nice,” he said with a
smirk and waved his wand at her hair, giving back her blond locks.
Finally, it was Hermione’s turn. She wasn’t so excited by it because she knew it would be
easy to win against Vince, but she stepped in place with the mind that soon she’d fight Blaise
and later Draco because of course she’d win against Blaise.
Vince, like the snake he was, tried to win advantage by hitting her before the bow was over,
getting her head incased with a pumpkin. Hermione glared at the hoar of laughter that echoed
in the room and in retaliation, sent the many pillows behind her at him with Oppugno.
Hermione felt vindicated when a few stray pillows hit Draco and Greg. She used the
opportunity to attack again, since Vince was occupied trying to swat away the attacking
pillows and in revenge, cast Tentaclifors, turning his head into a tentacle.
Hermione won when Vince failed to remove the spell and stumbling with the size of his new
head, fell off the platform.
Theo cast a finite on Vince, but nothing happened. They all looked at each other in
apprehension. “How do we get this off now?”
“Er—” Hermione started, “I don’t know?”
Blaise snorted, “that’s great. Is he even listening to us?” Vince-tentacle head nodded in
response.
“Can you see us?” Pansy asked and this time Vince-tentacle head shook his head, little pus
things flew off and hit Daphne.
“Ew.” They all said in unison. “Let’s take him to my parents, they’ll know how to revert the
spell,” Draco said and pulled on Vince’s arm; Hermione went to his other side. “Get the room
back in order before they come here to hex us.” He said and the other five nodded.
Hermione and Draco stirred Vince along the corridors, the boy often stumbling on his feet
due to the weight of his head and not being able to see. They found Draco’s parents and
professor Snape sitting in Narcissa’s morning room. Hermione smiled at her professor in
greeting, she didn’t know he was in the Manor.
“What in Salazar’s name is this?” Narcissa said, getting on her feet.
Hermione had the once in a lifetime opportunity to see Lucius Malfoy laugh without any
derisiveness. “Merlin, is this Nicodemus’ boy?”
“We were duelling,” Draco said and sat Vince down in a chair. “It was Hermione against
Vince, she cast that but we don’t know the counterspell. Finite didn’t work.” Draco told them
and Snape sighed and silently walked to them, waving his wand and making the tentacle
disappear.
“So that was all the noise we were hearing,” Narcissa said, she had a small smile on her face.
“Did you win?”
“The first round, yes,” Draco announced proudly. “It was against Pansy. We just finished the
first round.”
Lucius nodded at his son and Hermione saw Draco puffing his chest with pride. “Who else
won?” Lucius asked.
“In one bracket there was me, Pansy, Theo and Daphne, while the other had Hermione,” he
pointed at her, “Vince, Greg and Blaise. Blaise beat Greg, Theo beat Daphne and Hermione
beat Vince.”
“We saw,” Lucius said with a smirk.

“Now, it’s me and Theo in the semifinals with Blaise and Hermione.”
“I was a very good duelist back in Hogwarts,” Narcissa said with a smile and Hermione saw
with the corner of her eye, professor Snape rolling his eyes. “Let’s hope you took after me.”
She told Draco and he nodded, offering his mother his proud smirk. “Off you go then.”
The trio left the adults and Hermione apologised to Vince all the way back to the duelling
hall, where the others were waiting. The duels resumed and Theo and Draco faced each other
in what Pansy called a Dick Size competition. Blaise snorted and murmured something under
his breath that Hermione failed to catch but it sounded suspiciously close to Theo’s name.
In the end, after two knocked down chairs, Draco won, sending Theo back with a smirk.
Draco seemed to have improved his smirk because Hermione found it utterly disarming. She
only hoped he didn’t use it as a weapon when they faced each other.
“Well, why don’t we speed things up and have me facing Draco now, instead of going
through Hermione?” Blaise asked, his voice carrying all the sleaze that was in his expression.
There was a sigh somewhere behind Hermione and she snorted. “Please, we all know you
won’t win.” She said and got onto the platform.
Pansy hooted and Vince wolf-whistled. Hermione smirked at Blaise, who only threw his head
back in a laugh, all throat and white teeth on display. Daphne swooned and Greg laughed, she
heard “don’t be ridiculous,” from Theo.
Blaise was so ridiculously arrogant and full of himself that Hermione decided to end this as
quickly as possible.
“Relashio!” She cast as soon as the duel began, before Blaise could even finish the first
syllables of his spell. His wand fell to the floor when his grip released, “Flipendo!” She
threw, and Blaise completely knocked backwards.
The room erupted in laughter and Hermione grinned proudly when the girls came to cheer for
her.
“Well, that was humiliating,” Theo announced from his seat in one of the armchairs that were
safely out of the way of any stray jinxes.
Blaise got up from the floor and when he passed her, whispered, “hex his sorry ass, Granger.”
He winked and went to seat on the arm of Theo’s chair.
Draco and Hermione stood on the platform, both wearing matching smirks. The opportunity
to finally hex Draco tasted sweet on her tongue.
“You can give up now.” She said with a grin when they faced each other, Draco scoffed.
“I’m not letting you win as Blaise did.” He told her and she rolled her eyes.
They got into position and Draco was quicker in the first spell, she raised her shield just in
time, the spell ricocheted, and Hermione saw Greg and Daphne ducking down. Hermione
threw a tickling jinx on him that had him twisting and biting his tongue to keep from
laughing.
“Do you want to stop, Draco?” she asked in a singing voice.
“Furnunculus!” He cast, and Hermione gasped when boils erupted from her face. She heard
both Daphne and Pansy shrieking in horror at what Hermione could only imagine was a
terrible sight.
Hermione threw a stinging jinx on him and Draco winced, jumping in place and pressing on
his side, where the spell hit him. He threw the same spell at her and she sidestepped just in
time, “Immobulus!” She cast and Draco froze. He couldn’t move but his eyes still could glare
at her.
“Well, well, well.” Blaise sing sung, coming forward to inspect Draco’s frozen form.
“Someone has gone through all the spells in The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Two.” He
said with appraisal and cast a finite on Draco.
“You little—” Draco started and Blaise tsked at him.
“No, a proper man knows how to admit defeat and that was one,” Blaise said with his grin in
place.
“At least I lasted longer than you.” Draco snapped and everyone snorted, the double meaning
apparent to all of them.
“Good for the ladies, Draco.” Blaise laughed and Hermione saw that Draco’s blush started
first on the tip of his nose and spread to his cheeks.
Daphne and Pansy blushed at the innuendo and the boys howled in laughter, like a—well,
like the twelve-year-old boys they were.
“Let’s do something else,” Draco said and stomped out of the room. Laughter followed him.
“It’s a good thing to last long!” Greg called and they could hear him snarling even from a
distance.
They passed the adults as they followed Draco outside, and it took the adults a single look at
their laughter and Draco’s scowl for them to understand that Draco had lost his duel.
Severus had agreed to visit the manor again after Narcissa had written that Hermione had
come to spend the rest of the summer with the Malfoys, but only because of her. He and
Lucius had yelled themselves hoarse in the last couple of times they saw each other, and he
wasn’t eager for a third round.
He knew that Lucius had quite a collection of dark objects and that a few of them had been
given by Voldemort himself, so when Lucius told him he was planning on getting the Dark
Lord’s diary that could open the Chamber of Secrets, he wasn’t particularly on board with the
man’s idea.
Severus knew Lucius was desperate, knew that with the confirmation that his Lord was
indeed alive and planning his return, Lucius couldn’t get caught living comfortably all these
years without doing a single thing to help. Arthur Weasley and his raids surely weren’t
helping and Lucius had Narcissa on him to get rid of a few things.
But Severus couldn’t and wouldn’t agree with Lucius’ plan. Not only was reckless, but
completely unpredictable. Not to mention dangerous, but clearly, Lucius didn’t see a problem
with that, not when his son would be safe and sound with generations of magical blood in
him.
Arriving at the manor, Severus found one of the Malfoys’ elves waiting for him. “Madam
Malfoy asks Dobby to take Mr Snape to the morning room.” The elf said and Severus nodded
at the creature, who had both hands wrapped in gaze. Severus’ lip curled; Lucius had taken to
take out his frustrations on the elves again.
Severus arrived at the Morning room and found both Malfoys there, enjoying a book and a
cup of tea. Narcissa smiled pleasantly at the sight of him and Lucius pretended to not see
him. Mature just like his son.
“Severus, I’m so happy you could come.” Narcissa greeted and a loud bang could be heard
from their left.
“Renovations?” He asked as he took a seat, the elf served him a cup. Lucius scoffed, but his
eyes remained on the Prophet on his hands. “I hope it’s not my daughter causing that ruckus.”
“I think the kids are duelling,” Narcissa said and took a sip on her tea.
“Dueling?” He asked, an eyebrow lifted.
“Yes, they are practising, I believe.” She said and another bang could be heard.
“They seem to be destroying the room,” Lucius muttered.
“I thought only Hermione was here,” Severus mentioned and by Lucius’ long-suffering sigh
and an eye roll, he saw that wasn’t the case.
“The place has turned into a daycare.” Lucius glowered.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Narcissa said with a wave of her hand, “in a daycare the parents pick
up their kids at the end of the day.” She said, her tone lofty. “They are going to stay with us
until September first.”
Lucius shuddered another bang from their left, followed by loud laughter.
“Everyone is here?”
“Not everyone, Miss Bulstrode and Miss Davies couldn’t come.”

“Don’t waste your time trying to convince me to stay this time Cissy. There are six children
more than I can deal with when I’m not getting paid.” He told her and took another sip of his
tea.
Severus had barely drunk the tea when Draco and Hermione appeared at the door, between
them was one of their friends, Severus couldn’t identify who because the head had been
replaced by a tentacle.
His chest twisted when Hermione grinned at him.
“What in Salazar’s name is this?” Narcissa asked and got on her feet, motioning to put the
boy in the free armchair.
Lucius laughed, finally dropping the act of reading his newspaper. “Merlin, is this
Nicodemus’ boy?” It was. Severus recognised him now.
“We were duelling,” Draco explained and helped Vincent Crabbe down in the chair. “It was
Hermione against Vince, she cast that but we don’t know the counterspell. Finite didn’t
work.” Draco told them and Severus let out a sigh. Of course, it was his daughter. Of course.
He had a vague memory that this spell was taught during their fourth year. He silently went
over to them and made the tentacle disappear with a wave.
“So that was all the noise we were hearing,” Narcissa said, she had a small smile on her face.
“Did you win?”
“The first round, yes,” Draco announced, the same proud tone Severus was used to hearing
from him in the corridors. “It was against Pansy. We just finished the first round.”
Severus took the opportunity to inspect his daughter. Her hair was a little wild and there was
a slight blush on her cheeks, probably from exertion, her eyes were crinkled in a smile and
Severus thought, she’s happy Lily, our girl is happy.
“Who else won?” Lucius asked his son.
“In one bracket there was me, Pansy, Theo and Daphne, while the other had Hermione,
Vince, Greg and Blaise. Blaise beat Greg, Theo beat Daphne and Hermione beat Vince.”
Severus wondered who had come up with the pairs and why they’d given a free pass to his
daughter.
“We saw,” Lucius said with a smirk.
“Now, it’s me and Theo in the semifinals with Blaise and Hermione.”
“I was a very good duelist back in Hogwarts,” Narcissa said with a smile and Severus rolled
his eyes. He remembered the days when Narcissa and her sisters would hex any boy that
came close to any of them. Severus suspected Lucius still had a scar or two from Narcissa’s
hexes. “Let’s hope you took after me.” She told her son and the boy nodded; the same proud
look Lucius always carried with him. “Off you go then,” Narcissa told them and waved the
trio away.
“I think your daughter is reading textbooks that are not for her age,” Lucius murmured once
they were gone and the adults could hear the kids cheering.
“Fourth year,” Severus said with a nod. “That was a fourth-year spell.”
“Is the Potter boy any good in magic?” Lucius asked, an eyebrow raised. Cold filled Severus’
bones.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Lucius scoffed. “Just that.”
Severus rolled his eyes, “it’s never ‘just that’ with you. And the Potter boy is average in
magic. He was nowhere near the top twenty students in his year.”
“Hermione came first, didn’t she? Draco went on and on about the Potter boy the entire
summer, one of the things he mentioned was how Hermione helped the boy study.”
“She did. Your son was second, I’m sure you know.”
“Yes, I wasn’t pleased with Draco coming behind a Mudblood.”
“She’s not a muggle-born,” Severus said in gritted teeth.
“Of course,” Lucius said, circling his cane around the room, as a reminder that she was in the
manor and a muggle-born wouldn’t have a place there. “But that’s what you need that old
fool to believe, isn’t it? People thinking she’s a muggle-born.” Severus' only reply was to
glare. Narcissa remained focused on her newspaper, probably weighing the pros and cons of
intervening. “If she were to be in dan—”
“No,” Severus growled. “I’m not using her as bait,” Severus said, his grip on his teacup
tightening. “Someone died last time. I’m not willing to play my odds between seventeen kids
among two hundred and eighty.”
“I was just saying,” Lucius said with a smirk. “It would be easier if there was some way to
make sure people believed she was a muggle-born, with her magical skill.” Severus was
about to say something else when they saw the children passing. Draco came first, stomping
his way, the others were all laughing. “I think Draco lost.” Lucius scowled.
“I’ve been teaching Theodore Occlumency,” Narcissa announced and both men turned to her.
“The boy deserves a weapon against his father,” Narcissa explained and Severus nodded,
Adeodatus was extremely versed in Legilimency and Theodore spent way too much time
looking at his daughter. He scowled, hoping he wouldn’t have to deal with a crush so early in
his life as a parent.
Gone for the day was his patience with Lucius, Severus decided to pay a visit to the
greenhouse and pick a few ingredients.
Severus didn’t bother excusing himself, being well acquainted with the manor and its owners.
On his way to the greenhouse he caught his daughter and the others on the grounds, each one
had a broom in hand. Severus tilted his head when he saw Hermione also had one. Now, that
was a sight. Severus decided he could pick his ingredients later.
Severus accioed a book from the Malfoy library to his hand and sat down in one of the
recliners in the veranda, he had a good view of the children. Narcissa appeared on his side not
long after.
“He hasn’t said a thing about that damned book since he returned from Diagon Alley,”
Narcissa told him, sitting beside him. Severus sighed, apparently it was too much to ask for a
moment alone in a manor with over forty rooms. “He returned with a black eye from Arthur
Weasley that day.”
Severus turned to Narcissa. “I didn’t know Lucius was adept at brawling.”
“He isn’t,” Narcissa said with tight lips. “I’m quite tired of those Ministry raids and the way
Arthur Weasley and his team snoop around my house.”
“Well Cissy, you do have hundreds of dark objects here. I doubt yours is the only mansion
they are looking in.”
“No. They paid a visit to The Parkinson Estate and the Nott Manor as well.”
Severus hummed, his attention suddenly on the group of children huddled together,
whispering and pointing at one of the adults. “Why does that look suspicious?” He asked.
Narcissa chuckled, “because it is.” From what Severus could guess, it involved Hermione and
one of the adults. There was a lot of pointing and shaking heads.
Narcissa waved her wand and their conversation carried to where they were seated.
“You should do it,” Vincent Goyle was saying. “He likes you best.”
“He’s Draco’s godfather! He should do it!” Hermione said and Severus raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah, but you are his best student and he didn’t say no to teaching you during Christmas.”
Draco retorted.
“Because that was teaching!”
“Come on, we don’t have all day—" Gregory whined.
“We do actually,” Theodore said with a shrug.
“Ugh! Fine!” Hermione snapped and thumped her way over.
Narcissa chuckled and cut the spell as Hermione reached them. “Yes, Dear?” Narcissa asked,
her smile already in place.
“Aunt Cissy, sorry to bother you,” Hermione said and Severus almost choked on air at that.
His daughter turned to him, “Professor, they were—we were wondering if you could referee
our game. Since you refereed once.”
“You? Playing quidditch?” He blurted, his eyebrows furrowed.
Hermione huffed indignantly. “Yes. I can’t sit out because then they are uneven. They put me
as a goalie. It’s the only position they trust me not to fall off my broom.” She told them in an
annoyed voice.
Narcissa chuckled and Severus didn’t voice that he quite agreed with them.
“Very well.” He drawled and got to his feet. He saw the others cheering behind Hermione.
“Give me five minutes.”
Hermione nodded and ran back to her friends. Narcissa tsked beside him. “You are too
pliable with her. They already learned that they can use her to push you. She might do the
same someday if you keep bending to her every wish.”
“Cissy, I don’t remember ever commenting on your parenting.” Severus drawled.
“Well, from one mother with a spoiled child to a father of a not spoiled child, I say you are
spoiling her.”
“I’m not.” He glared.
“I thought you said there were six too many children in here,” Narcissa murmured, a clever
grin on her lips.
Chapter End Notes
A few excerpts were taken from Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, no copyright
infringement was intended, harry potter belongs to the original author.
The title of this chapter and the quotes in the beginning belong to The Good Years by
5SOS
Please comment or leave a kudos! If you want to yell at me or write me your guesses
you can find me on Instagram: camilajvnskt or Twitter: moonyhoax
See you next Friday!!

the stubborn will of gravity
Chapter Notes
Hello! I'm so sorry for the late update! I went away for the weekend and couldn't post
the new chapter.
We have started our second year!! Thank you to everyone who has followed this story so
far and have left such lovely comments!! I really appreciate all of them and I try my best
to reply to everyone.
like the ocean swells,

we exhale, inhale and reset
every little thing
is in this constant state of unrest
Chapter Eight
September 1st, 1992. Hogwarts Express.
The end of summer took too long to arrive, in Hermione’s opinion. She enjoyed immensely
her time at the manor with everyone else, but she was dying to return to the castle and start
her second year.
Their last morning was spent with a really big breakfast, all the elves had done amazing in
cooking everyone’s favourites and at a quarter to eleven everyone was lining up at the
Malfoy’s main Floo fireplace.
King’s Cross was exactly as Hermione remembered and she grinned at the sight of the train
and everyone else already on the platform. They found Milli first and the girl showed them
her new cat, “Tracey is already inside, she managed to get us two compartments by kicking
one first year out.” She announced and everyone grinned. Hermione rolled her eyes.
She followed Milli inside one of the compartments, after two weeks of constantly spending
time with the five boys, she wanted a bit of a distance from them for a while. By the looks on
Pansy's and Daphne's faces, they had the same idea because both girls followed Hermione
inside, and Pansy went as far as locking the door.
“Morgana’s tits,” Pansy groaned as she sat down next to Tracey. “How can they be such
children?”
Hermione chuckled and Daphne agreed, “I think Draco’s obsessed.” The blonde said,
“Hermione’s friends with Potter and not even her talked that much about him.”
“Well, Potter’s famous,” Tracey said with a shrug.
“Don’t we know?” Pansy drawled. “But anyway, how was your summer, girls?”
They exchanged summer stories throughout the first hours of the trip and during the second
half of the trip, Hermione let herself fall asleep against the window.
The moment the train stopped at the station and Hermione saw the carriages in front of them,
she baulked. Pulling the carriages were strange skeletal winged creatures that resembled
horses. None of her friends had stopped at the sight of the creature and Hermione looked
around seeing that everyone seemed oblivious to them. How could they? When that's how
they looked like? Hermione thought that she’d need years of looking at them before she
stopped flinching. They didn’t have any flesh and they were black as the night, with a
dragon-like head and bat-like wings. She looked around again and found Theo squinting at
her. She blushed and hurried inside. Theo followed her and sat down in front of her.
“You see them too.” He said, his voice quiet.
“See what?” Draco asked.
“The creatures that pull the carriages.”
“Nothing pulls the carriages,” Draco said, looking outside and at them like they had gone
insane.
“Only a few people can see them,” Theo said and Hermione knew he wasn’t making fun of
her because he was looking exactly at where they were.
“Why? And what are they” She asked.
“Are you two being serious right now?”
Theo ignored him, Blaise was also looking strangely at them. “I don’t know.” He said, “There
are a few of them back home, father always called them ugly bats and I was scared of them
when I was smaller, but I realised that not everyone could see them when Draco or Daphne
came to visit and they passed by them without a single glance.”
“They are so—” Hermione stopped, trying to find a word that matched them. “Eerie.”
“What do they look like?” Blaise asked, arching his neck, trying to see something that clearly
wasn’t there for him.
“Like death.” It was Theo’s response. Really, Theo was so sombre sometimes.
“I think they are horses—”
“This is some horseshit,” Draco muttered under his breath, still looking at the carriages’ front
suspiciously.
“They have wings and are completely black.” She said.

“They don’t have flesh, nor white in their eyes. We can see their bones and their wings are
like ones of bats.”
“Death sounds like a good description to me.” Blaise shrugged and looked back inside.
“Good thing I can’t see them, they sound creepy.”
“They are.”
“Why can’t I see them?” Draco snapped and threw a pebble in a random direction; it missed
the creature. Theo surprised her by rolling his eyes at Draco.
They arrived at the castle and again, Hermione looked for Harry but still couldn’t find him.
Where was he?
Sitting in her usual place at the Slytherin table, Hermione and the others were all looking
important, finally, they weren’t the youngest students in their house. They were all arching
their necks trying to catch a glance at the new students.
“Is there anyone we know, this year?” Marcus asked.
“I don’t think so,” Daphne replied.
“I thought your sister would be coming this year.” A third-year girl told Daphne.
“Next year. Tory is a September baby, so she has to wait almost an entire year.” Daphne
explained.
“There is,” Theo said, and they all had to guess where the boy was looking because pointing
or explaining himself was apparently beneath Theo.
It was Adrian Pucey who guessed it first. “The Carrow twins.” He said and Theo nodded.
Hermione looked for a pair of twins in the group of the first year.
Now that she had been sorted, it was quite boring waiting for everyone to be sorted, it took
close to an hour for everyone to be seated. Hermione took it as a win when the only kind of
comments she heard was a whisper from Higgs saying ‘at least we didn’t have any nasty
surprises’ that she knew it was about her; and a glared ‘so you are her’ from one of the twins,
Hermione had no idea who was Hestia, who was Flora.
All through dinner, Hermione tried to spot Harry and failed, it didn’t help that by dessert
people had begun whispering about flying cars being spotted in muggle London.
“I hope he’s expelled,” Draco announced when they were going down the steps to their
dungeons.
“At this point,” Pansy muttered to Daphne, “I hope too.” Daphne giggled.
When morning came, the rumours of flying cars were proven true during breakfast. “—
STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN’T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY’D
EXPELLED YOU,” They could hear from the other end of the hall.
“What’s happening?” she asked.
“Weasley got a Howler,” Greg told between bites and sniggers.
“YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU, I DON’T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO
THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT WAS
GONE” Ron’s mother’s voice screamed around the hall. A few glasses trembled on their
table due to the shrill of Molly Weasley’s voice. “— LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE
LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME, WE DIDN’T
BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU AND HARRY COULD BOTH HAVE
DIED—” There was a collective mutter of ‘of course’ at Harry’s name. “—ABSOLUTELY
DISGUSTED— YOUR FATHER’S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, IT’S ENTIRELY
YOUR FAULT AND IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE’LL BRING YOU
STRAIGHT BACK HOME.”
The Slytherin all cheered when the howler stopped and Hermione wished she could see Harry
or Ron from where she was.
“Weasley’s face must be as red as his hair.” Blaise sniggered.
“The last of them was sorted last night,” Pansy said with a fake shiver. “How many of them
are here, now?”
“Five, I think,” Milli said with a shrug and Pansy shivered again.
When Snape came handing out their schedules, Hermione was happy to see that they’d have
Professor Lockhart today. She had read all his books so many times during the summer that
she couldn’t wait to have classes with him.
Tracey and Daphne beside her were sighing and swooning already and when Hermione saw
them drawing hearts around the new Defense teacher, Hermione blushed but swiftly did the
same.
But before they could have an hour with him, Hermione and the other second years had to
suffer through Professor Bins first thing in the morning and then get their hands dirty in
Herbology,
Of course, half of her friends fell asleep during History of Magic. Greg even jumped on his
seat twice with how loud he was snoring. “I’m not going to teach you anything later if you
don’t even manage to stay awake!” She hissed at him and he nodded, propping his head on
both hands, trying very hard to stay awake.
Next, they went over to the greenhouses, where they’d have Herbology with the Ravenclaws.
Professor Sprout took them to Greenhouse Three and put a large box with dozens of earmuffs
on top of one of the benches. They all clustered by one side as the professor separated the
trays over the table. “Today, we will be repotting Mandrakes,” Sprout said. “Now, who can
tell me the properties of the Mandrake?”
“Three, two—” Blaise had been counting when Hermione’s hand shot up. He sniggered
beside her and she paid him no mind.
“Mandrake, or Mandragora, is a powerful restorative,” she explained. “It is used to return

people who have been transfigured or cursed to their original state.”
“Blah,” Draco drawled, and she stepped on his feet.
“Excellent.” Professor sprout said with a grin. “Ten points to Slytherin.” Hermione threw a
pointed look in Draco’s direction and mouthed ‘you did what exactly?’ at him, before getting
her attention back to class. “The Mandrake forms an essential part of most antidotes. It is
also, however, dangerous. Who can tell me why?”
Her hand shot up again. Vince and Greg were mimicking her, trying to see who could reach
higher between the two. “The cry of the Mandrake is fatal to anyone who hears it,” she said
promptly and glared at the boys who were all sniggering around her.
“Precisely. Take another five points,” Professor Sprout said. “Now, the Mandrakes we have
here are still very young.”
Hermione took a look at the one hundred or so tufty little purplish-green plants. At this size,
Hermione noticed they didn’t look like much and was impressed by their power.
“Everyone take a pair of earmuffs,” Professor Sprout said and everyone moved to the box at
once.
“Animals,” Pansy muttered as she waited for everyone else to make way.
Since she, Pansy and Theo were the only ones not to scramble forward, they all got stuck
with the pink and fluffy earmuffs. Theo’s nose went as pink as his earmuffs when Blaise
reached over and said “So cute, Theo,” in a baby’s voice.
“When I tell you to put them on, make sure your ears are completely covered,” Professor
Sprout instructed. “And when it is safe to remove them, I will give you the thumbs-up. Right
— earmuffs on.”
After Hermione snapped the earmuffs, all the sound shut out completely and by reading
everyone’s mouth she could only assume they were all shouting at each other. Professor
Sprout put the pink, fluffy pair over her ears and everyone turned to her, she rolled up the
sleeves of her robes, grasped one of the tufty plants firmly, and pulled hard.
Something very ugly popped out of the earth, it slightly resembled a baby, a very ugly one at
that. Professor Sprout took a large plant pot from under the table and plunged the Mandrake
into it, burying him in compost until only the tufted leaves were visible, then she dusted off
her hands gave them all the thumbs-up, removing her earmuffs.
Everyone did the same and once everyone had their earmuffs in hand, she explained. “As our
Mandrakes are only seedlings, their cries won’t kill yet.”
“Kill?” Vince asked, eyes wide.

“Didn’t you read before coming to class?” Hermione asked.
“Of course, not.” Draco said on her other size, “I doubt he reads at all.”
Sprout, who was on the other side of their long table, hadn't heard their exchange and
continued, “However, they will knock you out for several hours, and as I’m sure none of you
wants to miss your first day back, make sure your earmuffs are securely in place while you
work. I will attract your attention when it is time to pack up. Four to a tray,” she said, and
groups began forming. Draco placed himself beside her and Blaise did the same, dragging
Theo with him.
“Every time is the same thing,” Pansy complained as she went over the tray next to them, the
other girls with her.
“— There is a large supply of pots here,” Sprout pointed at where the pots were. “Compost in
the sacks over there— and be careful of the Venomous Tentacula, it’s teething.”
“Honestly,” Draco muttered, “this is an elf’s job.”
Hermione was about to snap at him, but one of the Ravenclaw’s boys that had joined Vince
and Greg talked to her. “Hi, I’m Anthony.” He said, “I know who you are, of course.” He
offered her a smile. “You should have been sorted in Ravenclaw,” Anthony told her and
beside her Draco huffed in annoyance. “You are more intelligent than everyone else, surely
Ravenclaw would have been great for you.”
“Oh, I—”
“Look at that,” Draco said, cutting her off. “Time to put on the earmuffs.”
Unfortunately, he was right, and she gave an apologetic smile to Anthony and put on her
earmuffs, losing whatever Blaise said. She figured it wasn’t important, with the smirk he was
wearing.
Differently from what it had seemed with Professor Sprout, the mandrakes hated being pulled
out of the earth and they also fought against being pulled back in. They spent the entire hour
being kicked, thrown dirt and almost bitten. Everyone had to head back to their common
room for a shower before their class with Lockhart.
“What is this smell?” Draco asked when they all met in front of the defence classroom. “The
lot of you smell like flowers and fruit, why?” He asked, wrinkling his nose.
Milli giggled and Tracey blushed a little. All of them had in fact changed and put on some
perfume and Pansy had gone as far as applying make-up on her eyes.
They all entered the classroom, Hermione and the girls found themselves a place right
upfront. Daphne and Pansy were on her each side and Blaise was in the seat behind her, with
Theo and Draco on his side.
In perfect timing, professor Lockhart appeared from his office in the mezzanine of the
classroom when everyone had found a seat. “Hello,” he grinned and winked at them.
Hermione could swear his teeth shone. “I know all of you are quite acquainted with my face.”
He said with a dazzling smile, Milli sighed loudly from where she was. “But let’s make all of
you acquainted with what’s more important.” He said and gave them a pause. “Me,” he said,
pointing at himself and giving them another wink.
“Wow, for one moment I thought learning how to defend against the dark arts was more
important,” Draco muttered and Hermione turned sharply to glare at him.
“Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force
Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly’s Most-Charming-Smile Award —
but I don’t talk about that. I didn’t get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!” He said
and the girls laughed, Draco and Theo seemed to be gagging. Lockhart came down the stairs
and Hermione’s eyes followed his every move. His robes were a perfect match to his eyes. “I
see you’ve all bought a complete set of my books—” he commented, a finger running to the
tall pile of books on Daphne’s table. “Well done. I thought we’d start today with a little quiz.
Nothing to worry about, just something to check how well you’ve read them, how much
you’ve taken in.”
“I haven’t even opened them.” Hermione heard Vince murmur and Greg made a sound of
agreement.
Lockhart handed them the test papers and informed them they had thirty minutes to do it.
Hermione began as soon as he gave the sign.
“Are you joking?” Draco muttered, “Is this real?”
“Fifty-four questions,” Theo mumbled. “About him. His favourite colour? Merlin, I don’t
even know my favourite colour.” He snorted.
Hermione huffed, trying to ignore them behind her. Blaise chuckled. “Oh Theo, it’s blue, the
blue in your eyes.” He said over sweetly, and Hermione rolled her eyes as she started on the
third question.
“Are we going to have to answer about his underwear as well?” Theo mumbled annoyed and
the boys sniggered.
“I don’t know,” Blaise said. “Hey Hermione, what did you put in the question about his
underwear?”
Hermione turned and sent him her most potent glare.
She doubted any of the boys had answered a single question and she sneaked a glance at
Pansy’s test and saw that she had gotten the question about his secret ambition wrong.
Lockhart collected the papers and rifled through them. “That’s disappointing.” He said with a
long sigh. “Hardly any of you remembered that my favourite colour is lilac.”
“What a shame,” Blaise said loudly, fake compassion all over him.
“I say so in Year with the Yeti. And a few of you need to read Wanderings with Werewolves
more carefully — I clearly state in chapter twelve that my ideal birthday gift would be
harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples — though I wouldn’t say no to a large
bottle of Ogden’s Old Firewhisky!”
Blaise, who was sitting behind her, had a foot propped on the back of her chair and Hermione
could feel how he was trying very hard to not laugh out loud, his entire body was shaking.
“—But Miss Hermione Granger knew my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and
market my own range of hair-care potions, amazing!” He smiled and Hermione could feel her
entire body blushing.
“Of course, she knew.” Theo snorted; he too was shaking in silent laughter.
Hermione paid them no mind. She watched in rapt attention as he flipped her test over, and
her heart jumped when he opened an even wider smile. “What a good girl—” Blaise gagged
behind her, “in fact, she got full marks! Where is Miss Hermione Granger?”
She raised a hand; she was trembling slightly now that she had his full attention. “Excellent!”
He beamed; Pansy voiced her thoughts with a swoon. “Quite excellent! Take ten points for
Slytherin!”
Lockhart then explained what he was going to do and how to face the foulest creatures in the
world, she felt especially safe when he told the class to not fear while he was with them. He
placed a cage on top of his table and with a hand keeping the thing from shaking too
violently, looked at every one of them straight in the eye. “I must ask you not to scream,” he
told them in a low voice. “It might provoke them.” Hermione was almost at the edge of her
seat as he whipped off the cover and tiny blue creatures came into view. “Yes, freshly caught
Cornish pixies.”
The boys had had enough and the five of them snorted. Draco went as far as being loudly
rude. “That’s ridiculous,” he scoffed.
Lockhart tutted at him, “I know your kind. You are those that look down on something just
because it’s small and looks inoffensive.” This time it was Hermione who couldn’t control a
snort. She felt a paper ball being thrown at her hair. “Don’t let their size trick you, these
creatures can be devilishly tricky little blighters!”
They were very small, Hermione noticed, but they were making quite a racket, jabbering and
rocketing around, rattling the bars.
“Right, then,” He said loudly. “Let’s see if you remain laughing now.” He opened the cage.
Instantly, the pixies shot in every direction like they were mad. The creatures started picking
on their books, their quills and Hermione had to swat twice one of them off her hair. “Come
on now, round them up,” Lockhart said. “Weren’t they only pixies?”
“Just immobilize them,” Hermione said and her friends all nodded. In the chorus, they
shouted “Immobulus!” and the blue creatures all froze in the air. Hermione saw that one was
centimetres away from snagging Lockhart’s wand from his hands.
They all looked up and grinned when they saw the tiny devils frozen and only their huge eyes
were blinking. “Very good, very good,” Lockhart said and Hermione noticed how he was
looking more dishevelled than all of them. “Another ten points to Slytherin.”
The bell rang and they all left the classroom. “Did you see that?” Blaise snickered. “And I
thought no one could be worse than Quirrel!”
“He’s not bad!” Hermione defended, “you saw all his books and everything he did—”
Theo scoffed. “I think he’s a very good storyteller. If that.” While the boys badmouthed their
professor all the way to the great hall, the girls talked about his smile.
Hermione hoped that the first day of the term wouldn’t be an example of what the year would
be. Because on their way to Transfiguration, Draco spotted Harry and Ron and Hermione had
to pull them apart when Draco, scathingly as always, announced that Harry was giving out
signed photos and then later, just like his father had done, insulted Ron and his family.
Hermione tugged him away, the boy was beside himself in laughter when Lockhart had
appeared and offered to take pictures with Harry for the Gryffindor boy.
Thankfully, the week passed without much more trouble and Hermione resigned herself to
listen to sniggers throughout every D.A.D.A class.
She was already up on Saturday morning when the quidditch team got together in their
common room. Hermione raised an eyebrow when she saw Draco in their midst. Since when
he was a player?
They didn’t seem to see her, half-buried behind a pile of books, but she caught snippets of
their conversation and the words ‘hex Gryffindor ass’ made her quickly pack her things and
follow them out.
Right as expected, the Gryffindors were already on the field when the Slytherins arrived and
both quidditch captains began arguing who had the right to train that day.
Marcus gave Wood a slip of paper, all the while smirking with his ugly crooked teeth. Again,
Hermione thought of her parents.
Hermione fought her way to their midst. She reached Flint just as Wood was asking, “You’ve
got a new Seeker? Where?”
Draco was the new Seeker? And why hadn’t he said anything? Hermione frowned, that
wasn’t Draco-behavior at all.
But his smirking self, easy swagger when he came forward was Draco-behavior alright.
One of the Weasleys twins arched an eyebrow. “Aren’t you Lucius Malfoy’s boy?”
“Funny you should mention Draco’s father,” Marcus commented, with an air of someone
who was dying to say something. Hermione frowned again when the whole Slytherin team
smiled even larger. “Let me show you the generous gift he’s made to the Slytherin team.”
Hermione saw the broomsticks they were proudly showing off, they all looked brand new.
Hermione snorted. She understood why Draco had become the new seeker without having to
go through try-outs.
“Very latest model. Only came out last month,” Marcus told them carelessly, “I believe it
outstrips the old Two Thousand series by a considerable amount. As for the old
Cleansweeps,” he paused and took a moment to smile nastily at the Weasley twins, who
Hermione figured had those brooms. “They sweep the board with them.”
Hermione snuck a glance at Draco, he was wearing his worst smirk, the one that made him
ugly and filled Hermione’s stomach with uneasiness.
Ron had arrived then. “What’s happening?” He asked Harry. “Why aren’t you playing? And
what’s he doing here?” He asked, pointing at Draco.
“I’m the new Slytherin Seeker, Weasley,” Draco said smugly. “Everyone’s just been admiring
the brooms my father has bought our team.” Ron gaped, and Hermione knew, not only from
Lucius’ constant remarks about the family financial situation but from her own experience as
well, that these brooms that Lucius simply gave to the team were probably around two
hundred galleons each and she had noticed how everything Molly bought at Diagon alley was
second, sometimes third, handed. “Good, aren’t they? But perhaps the Gryffindor team will
be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep
Fives; I expect a museum would bid for them.” He said smoothly and the Slytherins howled
with laughter.
It irked her the way he treated the others, especially when his place at the quidditch team had
nothing to do with talent but with his father ability to throw galleons. “Just like the team bid
their price.” Hermione couldn’t help herself, and she blurted it louder than she intended.
Draco’s grin vanished and his eyes flickered. A few Slytherins were whistling, and the
Gryffindor team had begun chuckling. “No one asked your opinion, you filthy little
Mudblood,” he spat at her.
The moment he said those words Marcus jumped in front of Draco with a cry of “are you
insane?” and someone pulled her back by her cloak when both Weasley twins jumped on
Draco.
One of the girls from the Gryffindor team shrieked. “How dare you!” Hermione didn’t know
what the offence meant, but she had a vague idea, especially because there was something to
do with her blood in the name he called her.
“You’ll pay for that one, Malfoy!” Ron snarled and pointed his scotch-taped wand at
Malfoy’s face. There was a bang, Hermione saw Ron get sent reeling onto the grass.
The commotion stopped for a second, everyone turned to look at the fallen boy and when he
opened his mouth to speak, he looked like he was going to gag instead, and several slugs
dribbled out of his mouth.
She made a face of disgust and she seemed to be the only student clad in green that wasn’t
throwing herself on the ground in laughter. Meanwhile, the Gryffindors were gathered
together but no one was trying to touch him because he was still dribbling out slugs. Harry
was glaring at everyone and when his eyes found hers, he glared even harder. “You could
help.” He snapped, “he was defending you.”
Hermione only nodded and went to help. Together, they dragged him to Hagrid, who was
closest and neither of them thought that Ron would appreciate more students seeing him in
that state. Harry was fuming and she hunched in one corner listening to them go off about
Draco.
Mudblood. It was what he had called her. It was the foulest offence someone could use to call
a person who had muggle parents, she had learned. Not wanting to cry in front of them, she
excused herself when it was clear Ron was in good hands.
Hermione went straight to her bedroom, making sure to take the longer route back to the
castle, so she wouldn’t risk seeing blond hair and mean grey eyes. She spent the entire day
inside and she guessed word had spread about what Draco had said because the girls took a
single look at her and didn’t press when Hermione told them she didn’t want to go out.
She ignored him the entire week, not that it was hard because the boy would always look
away whenever she caught him looking and he’d drag Vince and Greg with him when the
group was together. Hermione decided to see it as him being embarrassed about his
behaviour and too ashamed to apologize.
Hermione ignored Harry's eye rolls when she told him that. “I just can’t see it, Hermione.”
He told her. “He’s not nice, I still have to see him being nice to you.”
“He’s—” Hermione shook her head. “Draco is complicated. Everyone in the dungeons speaks
highly of his family, everyone looks at him and see a young prince and his father—”
Hermione shook her head again. “I have no idea why his father tolerates me; his mother even
likes me, she asked me to call her Aunt.” She told him. “And I know how Lucius Malfoy is,
but he has never made a single comment about me. The only thing that comes to mind is that
because I’m Draco’s friend, they are trying. But then again, it doesn’t make sense when
Draco behaves like a prat.”
“I think you are trying to see some good in them that doesn’t exist. Arthur commented after
that whole thing at Diagon alley that Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy had always acted in regards
to their gain, never thinking of someone else. I think they see you as someone they can use,
after all, you are the muggle-born in Slytherin.”
“This last part was Arthur’s as well or it’s really what you think?”
“It’s what he said.”
Hermione frowned; she didn’t like that someone she barely knew was talking about her. She
doubted the Weasleys had all the many flaws that her friends liked to go on and on about, but
she was learning that they liked to stick their noses in things that didn’t concern them.
They talked a little more and Harry told her about what had happened at his defence class and
how Ron’s broken wand was causing all sorts of trouble. Hermione stilled when he told her
about Dobby’s visit at Private Drive and how the elf almost begged him not to return to
Hogwarts this year. “It was so strange Hermione, he kept trying to punish himself every time
he thought he was badmouthing his masters and it was almost like he couldn’t speak the
things he wanted to tell me, and he was thoroughly upset when I showed him the barest hint
of manners.”
She didn’t say anything to that. She knew which family Dobby served and couldn’t be a
coincidence that Draco had told her about his father and Professor Snape arguing about
something. “What did Dobby tell you?”
“He told me there is a plot to make terrible things happen in here this year, that I shouldn’t
come because the world couldn’t afford to lose me. I tried to ask him if it had anything to do
with Voldemort, but he said no. He was the one confiscating my letters Hermione! The entire
summer I thought you and Ron hadn’t written, but he was the one hiding them from me,
making me believe I wasn’t missed.”
It was all very fitting, Lucius wanted to do something, Dobby being his personal elf, would
know about it; Lucius would ask for Professor Snape’s help since they were friends. If it was
something that terrible like Dobby had said, it made sense that Professor Snape wouldn’t
agree, Draco had told her Snape said something about not having control over it. Hermione
wondered if she should tell him what she knew.
She thought of Professor Snape and how Harry had told her earlier that Snape seemed to have
grown in his hatred towards Harry and it was still fresh in her memory how he had refused to
believe in her last year when she said he wasn’t the one siding with Voldemort. She doubted
this time it would be any different.
Hermione also didn’t have all the information, maybe it was a coincidence that Dobby was
the one to warn him, maybe Lucius hadn’t anything to do with it and both his and Snape’s
disagreement was about something else, maybe it was about Lucius’ idea of buying his son a
spot in the quidditch team. She tried to think back on her summer at the manor, Lucius had
made himself scarce then. More than twice, Narcissa had told them Lucius had gone do
business with Mr Nott and Mr Goyle, maybe he had taken Dobby with him and the elf
learned of something from the other men.
“You look like you’re thinking of something important.” He said and Hermione realized she
had stayed quiet for too long.
“I was thinking about what it could be, these terrible things,” Hermione said. She decided to
keep the secret of Dobby’s masters for a while longer.
With another week gone, her birthday was approaching, and Hermione wasn’t like Pansy or
Draco who would announce their birthday to everyone around, making sure people would
remember. She didn’t say anything and wasn’t too bothered that none of them had mentioned
anything as well. Hermione went to bed early on the eighteenth, thinking of starting her day
bright and early.
“Hermione!” Someone called when she was about to fall asleep, “Hermione get up!” The
person said again, this time shaking her. Hermione recognized the voice as Pansy’s.
“What?” she mumbled, trying to shake the girl off her.
“Draco got in trouble—” Hermione jumped off her bed, blinking at Pansy, “we need your
help downstairs.”
Hermione nodded and followed Pansy out, not bothering to throw a robe over her flannel
pyjamas. It was dark in the girl’s corridor and when they reached the common room,
Hermione almost jumped out of her skin.
“SURPRISE!” People cheered and laughed at her reaction.
Blaise was holding a cake, there were thirteen candles in it and snakes reading books. She
chuckled. Everyone was there: Daphne, Milli, Tracey—Hermione hadn’t even noticed that
the girls weren’t in the dorm when she left, Theo, Vince, Greg and Draco. Even a few older
students, the ones from the Day-to-Day Transfiguration study group and Gemma. She spotted
Marcus and a couple of other quidditch players.
They sang her happy birthday and she smile through the song, really glad that they had
planned a surprise for her.
“You have to make a wish,” Blaise told her. “but it can’t be anything regarding best grades,
that’s too boring and you don’t need it.”
“You also have to say out loud so we can know what it is to make it happen,” Daphne said
and winked at her.
Hermione nodded and thought of something. “I wish for us to win the house cup this year.
Again.” She added, “without any chances of Dumbledore awarding the Gryffindor two
hundred points in a sitting.”
They all cheered and enjoyed the cake, they were probably making too much noise for a
Wednesday at two in the morning, because Professor Snape appeared by then, snarling at
them for stuffing themselves in the cake so late. He didn’t ask them to return to their rooms
and even wished her a happy birthday, leaving them to a series of complaints and whines of
unfairness.
“I wish I could be his favourite student.” Flinch moaned around his bite.
“With the way you always score the bare minimum to pass?” Cassius Warrington said with a
snort, and they laughed. “You will never be his favourite student.” Hermione saw Flint look
away in embarrassment, before cracking a joke of his own regarding his poor scores.
They talked for an hour longer and when she was on her way back to her dormitory, Draco
stopped her, “Hermione,” he called. “Happy birthday,” Draco handed her something small
that was in his pocket. “I’m sorry for what I said.” Draco had both hands behind his back and
his head slightly bowed. “I—”
“Don’t do it again.” She said, her arms crossed on her chest. “I didn’t know what it meant
when you said it, but I know now. Don’t ever call me that again Draco Malfoy.” He nodded.
“I know that you are ashamed of me because of my blood. I don’t care about that, because I
know my worth and it’s not defined by you.”
Draco looked away, Hermione wasn’t going to tell him that it indeed bothered her that he
wore his many layers of prejudice as soon as they stepped on the castle, that it hurt. If there
was something that she learned in her previous year in Slytherin, it was that if people knew
your feelings, they could use them against you.
“Good night, Draco.”
“Good night, Hermione.”
After eleven years of teaching, Severus knew that the first day of the term was a good
parameter for the rest of the year, so when he had to stay outside the great hall waiting for
Potter and Weasley to show up after almost destroying—and getting killed in the process—
the Whomping Willow upon arrival, he knew he was in for a tumultuous year.
He saw the two troublemakers entering the castle and eyeing the doors of the great hall.
“Hang on,” Potter muttered, holding Weasley behind him. “There’s an empty chair at the staff
table. Where’s Snape?” Potter asked and Severus snarled from where he leaned.
“Maybe he’s ill!” Weasley said, there was hope in his tone. Severus’ decision to undermark
his assignments for the rest of his school years stood.
“Maybe he’s left.” Potter replied in the same hopeful tone, “because he missed out on the
Defense Against the Dark Arts job again!”
Severus glowered. Lily forgive him, but this boy was as annoying as her late husband. “Or he
might have been sacked!” Weasley cheered enthusiastically. “I mean, everyone hates him—”
Stepping up behind them, in his best fashion and usual glowering stand. “Or maybe,” he said
in his most cold voice, “he’s waiting to hear why you two didn’t arrive on the school train.”
Potter spun. Severus offered a smile that was anything but friendly. “Follow me,” he said.
He took the two annoyances to his office, opening his door and hissing at them to enter.
“So,” he said softly. “The train isn’t good enough for the famous Harry Potter and his faithful
sidekick Weasley. Wanted to arrive with a bang, did we, boys?”
“No, sir, it was the barrier at King’s Cross, it —”
“Silence!” Severus said coldly. “What have you done with the car?” He unrolled today’s issue
of the Evening Prophet, showing them a picture of a flying car. “You were seen,” he hissed,
showing them the headline and reading aloud. When he finished, both boys were looking
quite pale. He turned to Weasley, “I believe your father works in the Misuse of Muggle
Artefacts Office?” He shook his head and tsked, “Dear, dear, his own son.”
Neither boy said anything and Severus, not feeling deterred, went on. “I noticed, in my
search of the park, that considerable damage seems to have been done to a very valuable
Whomping Willow,”
“That tree did more damage to us than we—” Weasley cracked first.
“Silence!” He snapped. “Most, unfortunately, you are not in my House and the decision to
expel you does not rest with me. I shall go and fetch the people who do have that happy
power. You will wait here.”
Severus felt like whistling. Lily, please forgive me, but your boy causes way too much trouble
for our girl. He thought as he went to fetch Professor McGonagall who accompanied him. He
tried very hard not to smile as he retold the night’s events to her and saw her mouth thinning
and her expression growing hard.
He almost chuckled at the flinch Weasley gave when the woman raised her wand upon seeing
them. Well, he had to admit, Minerva had quite a sense of humour.
“Sit,” she said, and they both obliged. “Explain,” she demanded.
Weasley launched into the story, starting with a tale of the magical barrier at the station
refusing to let them through. Such special boys they were. “— so we had no choice,
Professor, we couldn’t get on the train.”
“Why didn’t you send us a letter by owl? I believe you have an owl?” Professor McGonagall
said coldly to Potter, who gaped, the thought of having an owl seemed foreign to him.
“I — I didn’t think —”
“That is obvious.”
There was a knock on his office door, and he went to open it. It was a first that the sight of
Dumbledore almost made him crack a smile. There was a long silence between them, both
boys looking dejectedly. And in his usual calm tone, Dumbledore asked. “Please explain why
you did this.” It was Potter who flinched this time. Severus could at least understand that the
headmaster always could make you feel less with his tone and kind eyes.
Potter explained everything with his eyes to his knees and hands on his lap. Severus decided
to imagine it was James in his place and how much he’d have given to be able to see that
arrogant boy looking even half as penitent as Potter looked. Dumbledore said nothing while
Potter spoke and the three adults remained quiet regarding the owner of the car. It would be
too much of good luck to have Arthur Weasley punished by his illegal tweaking.
“We’ll go and get our stuff,” Weasley said. Yes, please. Severus thought.
“What are you talking about, Weasley?” Minerva barked and at this, even he snapped his
eyes at the woman. Please, no.
“Well, you’re expelling us, aren’t you?”
“Not today, Mr Weasley,” Dumbledore said. “But I must impress upon both of you the
seriousness of what you have done. I will be writing to both your families tonight. I must also
warn you that if you do anything like this again, I will have no choice but to expel you.”
Of course, Severus thought with a snarl. Because being spotted by six muggles, flying an
illegal tweaked car all the way from London to the Scottish Highlands, damaging that
godforsaken tree wasn’t enough to warrant expulsion for our Savior Potter. “Professor
Dumbledore, these boys have flouted the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry,
caused serious damage to an old and valuable tree — surely acts of this nature—” He was
about to continue, but Dumbledore cut him off.
“It will be for Professor McGonagall to decide on these boys’ punishments, Severus,”
Dumbledore said in his annoying calm voice. Severus hated to agree with Lucius, but
sometimes he wished him gone. “They are in her House and are therefore her responsibility. I
must go back to the feast, Minerva,” Dumbledore said, turning to her. “I’ve got to give out a
few notices. Come, Severus, there’s a delicious-looking custard tart I want to sample—”
Merlin forbade the man to miss his custard tart.
He shot a look of pure venom at the boys and vowed to turn a blind eye to everything that his
students might do this year.
“Don’t look so murderous Severus,” Dumbledore said on their way, “You knew what you
were getting yourself into when you swore to protect him.”
“You don’t believe in their story, do you? The magical barrier closing on them?” He asked,
“I’ve never heard of that.”
“There are all kinds of magic that we don’t know of,” Dumbledore said and Severus rolled
his eyes. “It comes as no surprise that they’d come for Harry.” Dumbledore said with a hum,
“and his sister? Have you seen her yet? I believe she arrived properly.”
“I will take that you are talking about Miss Granger, and I haven’t no, as I was waiting for
them to make their entrance.”
“I heard from Arthur that she spent part of her summer with the Malfoys,” Dumbledore
mentioned and Severus nodded, his expression impassive.
“What else have you heard from Arthur? Maybe he told you about his car that those two
arrived in?”
Dumbledore smiled, “Please, Severus. There’s no need to get Arthur in trouble for that. But
tell me, what do you think Narcissa Malfoy and Lucius Malfoy want with a muggle-born?”
“I wouldn’t pretend to understand what goes into Narcissa’s mind, Headmaster.” He told him.
“It’s curious, don’t you think?” Dumbledore took a hand to his long beard. “Especially when
Lucius votes every year for the board to sign on his No-Muggleborn Act. I’d think one
wouldn’t be allowed to step foot in his house, much less spend the holidays.”
“I will ask Lucius about it next time we meet, inconspicuously of course.”
“Thank you, Severus, it’d be most upsetting if they were to do something to her. You should
keep an eye on her as well since she is in your house.”
They had arrived at the hall by then, “any other requests for the year, headmaster?”
Dumbledore smiled, “It’s still too early to know.”
Indeed. Severus thought. The dinner was on its end and Severus only got a few bites on the
dessert before the prefects were ushering their students to the common rooms.
The next morning, he handed out his students timetable and noted that he’d teach his
daughter on Wednesdays and Fridays and her brother first thing on Tuesdays.
When Severus reached Marcus Flint, almost on the end of the table, he called for the boy to
follow him, to which the boy almost tripped on his feet in his scramble to get up.
“Sit.” He said once they reached his office.
“Is something wrong, professor?”
“You tell me,” Severus said and put two different documents on his table. “This right here is
the announcement of the scores that were posted last year. And these are your exams. Take a
look.”
Flint was looking slightly sick when he reached for his exams scores. His eyes widened and
he gulped. “They are lower.”
“Yes.” Severus drawled, “significantly. You would have flunked all your O.W.L.S if I hadn’t
manipulated your scores.”
“Thank—”
“Don’t.” Severus snapped, “this wasn’t done out of the goodness of my heart. This is a
warning. You can’t be Captain if you flunk. I won’t manipulate your scores anymore. You
will get tutoring; you will get your grades up or I will personally reveal that you cheated on
your O.W.L.S and get you thrown out. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Off to class then.”
When Severus decided to keep Flint from having to retake his fifth year, he didn’t think that
he’d have the boy wrapped around his finger, but it came out as better than he expected
because he learned first-hand what dear Draco had done on Saturday morning. Flint had told
him that Lucius’ miniature had called Hermione a filthy little mudblood to everyone in the
Slytherin and Gryffindor quidditch team and Weasley—who still didn’t get any points with
him for that—had been hexed trying to defend her.
Whatever had conspired on that quidditch field were kept under wraps on the coming week,
he didn’t catch a single whisper about it, and he would have only noticed that something was
off by the way Hermione ignored Draco and the boy avoided the girl like the plague. But
because he knew, he took special care in glaring at his godson wherever he could.
Severus watched with concealed glee one morning when Draco’s eagle owl that brought him
pastries every day came empty-handed. Sometimes Severus had to admit, at least to himself,
that Narcissa had an impeccable sense of humour. The owl flying in and landing in front of
him without anything attached to its legs spoke louder than if the owl hadn’t come at all.
The week of Hermione’s birthday started without problems, she had already single-handed
gotten her house over fifty points, putting them in the lead. He had just escaped the Staff
Room after hearing Minerva telling Vector what a delight it would be to have Hermione as a
student next year. Not to mention that they were still in September and students would only
need to declare what subjects they’d take by May.
Minerva spoke of Hermione with a reverence that matched how the woman spoke about Lily
and it made Severus’ throat clench. Gone was the Minerva who thought Dumbledore was out
of his rocker for thinking she was the Missing Sister. Minerva told Vector that no one had
shown that much promise in Transfiguration and calculations in years. Severus thought that it
wasn’t all due to Hermione’s brilliant brain, but also that she was one of the very few
students who had basic algebra before coming to Hogwarts. Not to mention some atrocious
grammar and spelling they had to deal with from a few students.
Thinking back, he should have paid more attention when he spotted Daphne Greengrass
talking to one of the kitchen elves, and definitely should have gotten suspicious when he saw
Blaise Zabini leaving the kitchens on Tuesday morning. But as it was, when noise and
laughter reached his quarters at two in the morning, he knew he had missed something.
He marched to the Slytherin common room, ready to snap at them for making such a ruckus
and throwing a party in the middle of the week, but the scene waiting for him left him frozen
by the threshold of the dungeons.
There was a cake and some ridiculous party hats, but in midst of it all was Hermione, a huge
grin on her face and sparkling eyes. The second years were all accounted for, there were a
few third years as well, alongside the quidditch team.
They all grew quiet upon seeing him, “You shouldn’t be stuffing your face in sweets this
late.” He snarled. “If I see a single one of you yawning tomorrow during my class, I will
remove points.” He snapped and then turned to Hermione; whose party hat was slightly
crooked on her hair. “I assume congratulations are in order.” He said, keeping his voice in his
usual tone. “Happy birthday, Hermione.”
“Thanks.” She squeaked and he left the common room, a bitter taste on his mouth. Severus
tried not to dwell on the fact that it was the first time in his life that he had wished his
daughter a happy birthday.
The next morning, for Draco’s continuing annoyance, his eagle owl came but it stopped in
front of Hermione and Severus watched from the high table as the girl removed the package
and offered one of her biscuits for the animal. There was still nothing for Draco.
Severus wondered how long it would take for the Malfoy boy to cave.
October arrived and the Halloween pranks started on the first morning of October. Often, he
and Flitwick would be interrupted by an angry Filch, who’d let out a string of curses as he led
either teacher to undo something a student had done. Peeves, who had been quiet the year
before, had upped his game and seemed to have an unlimited supply of dung bombs.
But nothing compared to what found them by the end of the Halloween feast. Severus heard
the murmuring and the gasping before he saw them and before he saw it. On the wall, written
in blood were words that made his fingers curl and his heart clench. And of course, right in
the middle of everything, was Hermione, her brother and Weasley.
Filch was screeching, accusing the Potter boy of having killed his cat and the three kids
looked pale and slightly frightened, Hermione kept looking between her brother and the wall,
her brilliant brown eyes probably going through all the possible answers for that.
“Come with me, Argus,” Dumbledore said to Filch. “You, too, Mr Potter, Mr Weasley, Miss
Granger.”
That ridiculous fool stepped forward. “My office is nearest, Headmaster, please feel free—”
“Thank you, Gilderoy,” Dumbledore replied, and they all followed Gilderoy’s strut, feeling
way more excited and important than he should’ve.
Neither he nor Minerva waited for an invitation as they followed them inside Lockhart’s
office. Severus hadn’t had the pleasure to visit this place yet and winced with all the many
pictures of the man around the room. He was glad when they all dodged and hid upon taking
a look at the seemingly dead cat.
Dumbledore laid Mrs Norris on the desk and began to examine her. The kids were clustered
together and exchanged tense looks. Severus and Minerva approached Dumbledore as he
inspected the cat, his face almost buried on the animal’s fur, while his fingers prodded and
poked, Minerva was also bent over and Severus kept his distance, he was already planning on
marching to the Manor and forget wands, he’d be throwing a punch on Lucius’ face as soon
as he spotted that ridiculous hair.
Not even the appreciation he felt from that annoying cat being gone was enough to dissipate
the anger he felt simmering inside of him.
Meanwhile Dumbledore’s inspection, Gilderoy gave wrong input after wrong input, making
Filch let out dry, racking sobs and Severus couldn’t help but think that sight was enough of a
Halloween prank.
“She’s not dead, Argus,” Dumbledore said softly and finally cut off Lockhart’s ridiculous
lies.
“Not dead? But why’s she all— all stiff and frozen?”
“She has been Petrified,” Dumbledore explained, and they collectively ignored Lockhart
comment, Minerva’s lips tinned considerably though. “But how, I cannot say.”
“Ask him!” The caretaker shrieked, pointing at Potter.
“No second year could have done this,” Dumbledore said firmly. “It would take Dark Magic
of the most advanced—”
“He did it, he did it!” Filch spat, his face almost purple in anger. “You saw what he wrote on
the wall!” Severus took the opportunity that everyone was looking at the trio and tried to see
which guilty face looked the worst, tuning out Filch blabbering about Potter finding out that
the man was a Squib.
“I never touched Mrs Norris!” Potter said loudly, “And I don’t even know what a Squib is.”
“Rubbish!” snarled Filch. “He saw my Kwikspell letter!”
Hermione was still shifting her weight from left leg to right leg and avoiding looking in her
brother’s general direction. Severus sighed. “If I might speak, Headmaster,” he said from
where he stood, “Potter and his friends may have simply been in the wrong place at the
wrong time.” Which they had quite a knack for, but it also didn’t explain Hermione’s
behaviour and how she seemed to be about to explode. “But we do have a set of suspicious
circumstances here. Why was he in the upstairs corridor at all? Why wasn’t he at the
Halloween feast?”
The trio started speaking at once. Severus caught snippets of the party behind their eyes as
they launched their explanation.
“But why not join the feast afterwards?” He asked and they stopped altogether. They looked
between each other and Hermione worried her bottom lip with her teeth. There. “Why go up
to that corridor?”
This time Weasley also sneaked a glance at Potter, Hermione looked down to her feet. He
knew that he’d find out with only a look into her eyes.
“Because— because —” Potter began the lie he was about to tell, still not thought on his
mind. “Because we were tired and wanted to go to bed,” he said and Severus raised an
eyebrow. Hermione winced beside her brother. She, just like Severus and Dumbledore and
Minerva, was quite aware that her common room was nowhere up in the castle.
“Without any supper?” He asked a smile flickered on his face. The kid clearly hadn’t taken
his ability to lie from his father. That man was known to be professional. “I didn’t think
ghosts provided food fit for living people at their parties.”
“We weren’t hungry,” Weasley announced, just as his stomach gave a huge rumble. Severus
arched an eyebrow at the boy.
“I suggest, Headmaster, that Potter is not being entirely truthful,” he said. “It might be a good
idea if he were deprived of certain privileges until he is ready to tell us the whole story. I
personally feel he should be taken off the Gryffindor Quidditch team until he is ready, to be
honest.” He tried and it was worth it only by having Minerva scoffing.
“Really, Severus,” she said sharply, “I see no reason to stop the boy playing Quidditch. This
cat wasn’t hit over the head with a broomstick. There is no evidence at all that Potter has
done anything wrong.”
Dumbledore didn’t say a thing, just kept looking at the boy. Severus knew that Dumbledore
was going through the boy’s mind. When the old man turned around, he said firmly.
“Innocent until proven guilty, Severus,”
Dumbledore had found something. Severus fumed. He was forbidden to snoop through the
boy’s mind but apparently, Dumbledore didn’t see fit to follow his own rule.
“My cat has been Petrified!” Filch shrieked again. “I want to see some punishment!”
“We will be able to cure her, Argus,” Dumbledore said patiently, it only served to annoy
Severus further. “Professor Sprout recently managed to procure some Mandrakes. As soon as
they have reached their full size, I will have a potion made that will revive Mrs Norris.” The
Mandrakes they had were babies, it would take months before they reached their full size.
“I’ll make it,” Lockhart butted in. “I must have done it a hundred times. I could whip up a
Mandrake Restorative Draught in my sleep—”
“Excuse me,” Severus cut in icily. “But I believe I am the Potions master at this school.”
Severus would be dead before he let that impostor touch any of his potions or ingredients.
Dumbledore told the trio to go and asked for Severus and Minerva to follow him. The
corridors were empty by now, but the portraits were wide awake, and they all followed the
professors along the way, trying to catch anything. He knew that by morning, every single
portrait would know about it.
Severus closed the door of the headmaster’s office behind him. “Potter’s lying.” He said and
Minerva turned at once to glare at him.
“Your antipathy with the boy—” She started.
“He’s right, Minerva,” Dumbledore said from his chair. Minerva whipped around; eyes wide.
“You don’t think he—”
“No. No, of course, it wasn’t him. But he wasn’t being truthful then. Harry thought he had
heard something and went to follow. Whatever it was, it led them to Mrs Norris.”
Minerva sighed. “Do you think it’s true? The writing on the wall? Could it be some sort of
Halloween Prank?”
“I’m afraid the markings of Petrification in Mrs Norris are the same of those petrified the last
time the Chamber was opened,” Dumbledore told them. Severus’ jaw clicked.
“But, how? The heir? What heir of Slytherin?”
“There’s only one heir Minerva,” Dumbledore said, running a hand through his lengthy
beard. “But how is the question we should try to answer.” He turned to Severus then, “gather
your students Severus, ask if anyone has been learning a few things from their parents.”
Severus glared. “Do you think it’s one of my students?”
“The Chamber was first opened in forty-three, Severus. I think Avery’s son and Nott’s son are
in your house, aren’t they?” Dumbledore asked, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon
spectacles.
“They are,” Severus replied. “The Dark Lord didn’t have friends, he had followers. I doubt he
told any of them how to open the Chamber.”
“Well, we must start somewhere!” Minerva retorted. Severus refrained from scowling. Merlin
forbade someone to start by inquiring Gryffindors.
“I will keep an eye on them,” Severus replied icily and with a swish of his cloak, left
Dumbledore’s office.
Chapter End Notes
The title and quotes at the beginning belong to Overture by Sleeping at Last.
Excerpts were taken from Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, all rights go to the
original author of the series.
See you on Friday with a new update
this fearful constant state of comparison
Chapter Notes
Hello!! Thank you for the lovely comments on the last chapter!
The attacks have begun and they are on yet another dangerous year of schooling yay
what a school
Patterns form and feel important,

The starting lines of a living blueprint.
All this information in formation is key
To draw a distinction between waking life and our dreams
Chapter Nine
November, 1992. Hogwarts.
Hermione had decided to keep quiet about what she knew, especially because in the next few
days, the castle only seemed interested in talking about what had happened. Everyone went to
that corridor to see the writing on the wall and the place where Mrs Norris got petrified.
Severin Avery and Theo found themselves very popular after what had happened, much to
Theo’s horror. It chilled Hermione’s bones to know that the man who had killed Harry’s
family might have sat in the same armchair that she was now listening to Severin’s tale.
“Father only told me once about it. He was on his fifth year when the Chamber was last
opened.” He told and Hermione couldn’t help but notice how deathly pale Theo was looking.
“There weren’t any writings on walls, nothing like that. Muggle-borns were getting hurt,
petrified like that cat, there had been five attacks before a girl was killed.” A gasp echoed in
the dungeons. “They found her body in the girl’s bathroom, the one that is out of order
because of Moaning Myrtle.”
“How was she killed?” a student asked.
“I don’t know. Father said her body was covered when they took her.”
“There’s a creature inside,” Theo said, his hands clasped together on his lap. “They called it
Salazar’s monster. It’s a creature only Salazar or his heirs can control, nobody knows which
creature it is. The rumours about the Chamber go back to when the founders were still alive,
over a thousand years ago.”
“But how come the creature is still alive after so long?” A student asked.
“And who’s the heir of Slytherin?” Someone else asked,
“It must be a first-year, right?” Pansy asked, “otherwise they would have tried opening the
chamber before.”
“I doubt it,” a sixth year said, “no one knows where the Chamber is. It’s a myth as old as the
castle. I don’t think an eleven-year-old would manage to find the Chamber, learn to control
the creature and began the attacks in just two months.”
“But maybe they didn’t have to look for the chamber or learn how to control it, maybe the
knowledge was passed down.”
“Who opened the Chamber fifty years ago?” Draco asked Theo, the latter looked down to his
feet.
“I don’t know. My father didn’t say.” At that, Severin shook his head as well. Theo
continued, “I only know that a student was expelled for it.”
“A Gryffindor.” Severin snarled. Hermione raised an eyebrow at that. Why a Gryffindor

would be expelled?
“Maybe we should—”
“Maybe you should all get to bed and stop talking nonsense.” Snape’s cold voice drawled,
and they all turned to the door, where he stood glaring at them. “Go to your rooms. All of
you.” Everyone jumped to their feet at once.
It wasn’t any help really, because Hermione was certain that everyone continued the
conversation in the darkness of their dormitory, just like Hermione and the girls.
The next day, Hermione found Harry and Ron in the library and Harry told her about
Professor’s Binns reaction to them asking him about the Chamber. “He reckons it’s a foolish
myth and the chamber doesn’t exist,” Ron said and Hermione placed a book on top of her
parchment since the boy was trying to read it.
Hermione frowned. “He’s lying.” She said and Ron rolled his eyes.
“Of course, you know more than our History of Magic teacher who probably has been here
for hundreds of years.”
“No.” she glared at him. “Just yesterday, Severin Avery was telling us back in our common
room about it. The Chamber was opened before.”
“What?” Harry asked, his green eyes wide.
“Yes. He told us his father was in school when it happened. Someone opened the Chamber in
1943. A girl was killed by the monster, Harry. It’s not a myth.”
“And do you believe in them?” Ron asked with a raised eyebrow, “you know how they are all
snakes—” Hermione glared at him, “maybe not all of them, but maybe they are just lying to
get a rise out of you because you are, you know—”
“I’m what?” She snapped.
“A muggle-born. Binns said the creature was supposed to purge the school of muggle-borns,
and—”
“He wasn’t lying.” She said, “and besides, Theo’s story matched Severin’s and even if I
didn’t believe in him, I believe in Theo.”
“Should we go see it?” Harry asked.
“What?”
“The place where it happened.”
Hermione hesitated; she didn’t want to be found twice at the crime scene. She was surprised
how she had managed to escape losing points that night.
“Let’s go!” Ron said and not one to lose the opportunity of forgoing studies, shoved his
books inside his bag.
Hermione trailed them up to the corridor and watched from a corner when Harry dropped on
his hands and knees on the floor and alongside Ron, started exclaiming about scorch marks.
She looked away, too much secondhand embarrassment. Hermione glanced at the window
and tilted her head when she saw twenty or so spiders on the topmost pane. “Hey, come
here.” She called, “look at this!”
The spiders were all scuttling, fighting their way out through a very small opening. “I’ve
never seen spiders behaving like that.” Harry said, “have you, Ron?”
Hermione turned and found Ron standing a few steps behind them, looking green. “I don’t
like spiders.” He said. Hermione giggled.
“What?” She asked, biting the inside of her cheek. He glared at her.
“It’s not funny.” He said fiercely and told the story of his Teddy Bear, which only made
Hermione giggle harder.
Harry pulled on Hermione’s sleeve. “Remember all that water on the floor? Where did that
come from?” He asked.
“It was about here,” Ron said and pointed to a door past Filch’s guarding chair. Hermione
looked at the door and froze. It couldn’t be a coincidence, could now? Ron reached for the
door but withdrew his hand sharply. “Can’t go in there. That’s a girls’ toilet.”
Hermione rolled her eyes, “There won’t be anyone in there,” She said and opened the door.
“That’s Moaning Myrtle’s place. Come on, let’s have a look.”
They entered and Hermione had been there a few times before, for a quick look on her
reflection after being insulted by her housemates, always taking advantage of the toilet being
empty.
Myrtle was there, standing between two stalls, she was glaring at Harry and Ron. “That’s a
girls’ toilet.” She reminded them.
The girl was found dead here, maybe Myrtle had seen it? Was she already here when it
happened? Or did she die after? Harry poked her, whispering to Hermione to ask her
something.
“What are you whispering?” The ghost asked, coming near Harry and glaring at him behind
her huge glasses.
“Nothing. We wanted to ask—”
“I wish people would stop talking behind my back!” She exclaimed; her voice already
choked with tears. Hermione made a face; she knew how easy it was to get Myrtle weeping
by Milli’s and Pansy’s tales of the many times they bet against each other who could make
her cry faster. “I do have feelings, you know, even if I am dead—”
“Myrtle, no one wants to upset you,” she tried, “Harry only—”
“No one wants to upset me! That’s a good one!” Howled Myrtle. “My life was nothing but
misery at this place and now people come along ruining my death!”
“How did you die?” Hermione asked, already losing her patience with her dramatics.
It didn’t seem to be a good question, because even Ron, who had the emotional range of a
teaspoon, winced. Myrtle gave a tragic sob and flew around them shrieking, before diving
into the closest toilet to them, drenching their shoes and pants in water.
“Ew!” Ron exclaimed. “Nice, Hermione. Really nice.” She shrugged. “Maybe next time try
to be a little more sensible?”
“That was nothing.” She said, “Pansy once told me she got her entire hair wet after saying
something to Myrtle.”
They left the bathroom and ran face-first into Ron’s older brother, the Prefect one. Hermione
tried to quietly walk away from the berating going on so she wouldn’t lose her house any
points for something that was clearly personal. Especially when Percy, Ron’s brother, took
five points from Gryffindor. Hermione was well aware that with Slytherin’s luck, he’d take
ten from her just by wearing green.
“Speaking of detective work,” Hermione said once he had left. “If the chamber’s really open,
who can it be, though? Who’d want to frighten all the Squibs and Muggle-borns out of
Hogwarts?”
Ron rolled his eyes. “Let’s think,” he said in mock puzzlement. Hermione found him a
terrible actor. “Who do we know thinks Muggle-borns are scum?”
He looked at Hermione. Hermione looked back, narrowing her eyes. “If you’re talking about
Draco—”
“Of course, I am!” He said. “You heard him — ‘You’ll be next, Mudbloods!” She had, yes,
heard him. “Come on, you’ve only got to look at his foul rat face to know it’s him—” Draco
was a lot of things and had quite a few traits, but a foul rat face wasn’t one of them. And he
had come and had stumbled over his ‘I swear I didn’t see you there, I wasn’t—Hermione I
wasn’t calling you—’ apology.
“Malfoy, the Heir of Slytherin?” She asked sceptically, but a nagging thought came to the
front of her mind: his wealth, his manner, his father.
“Look at his family,” Harry said, joining in. Hermione had taken a look at his family. There
were many busts of Malfoy man and woman in that house. “The whole lot of them have been
in Slytherin; he’s always boasting about it. They could easily be Slytherin’s descendants. His
father’s definitely evil enough.”
Hermione glared at him. “Narcissa is not evil. She has been nothing but kind to me and—”
“They could’ve had the key to the Chamber of Secrets for centuries!” Ron interrupted her.
“Handing it down, father to son—”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She snapped. “Draco has nothing to do with it! Just yesterday, he—”
“I wish I could know what’s going on down there, they are probably planning—”
“I know what’s going on down there!” Hermione snapped and waved her green tie in front of
Harry’s face. “I told you, he didn’t know about the Chamber, he was asking—”
“Of course, he was pretending,” Ron said and Harry nodded vehemently. “And they wouldn’t
tell you!”
Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. For someone who didn’t care about her blood, he sure
made a lot of comments about it.
“I mean, he would probably lie and try to pretend he had nothing to do with it to let your
guard down and—”
“This is ridiculous, Ron.” She snapped, crossing her arms around her chest.
“If only we could find a way to go there and ask a few questions—”
“I can go in there!” Hermione almost shrieked. “That’s my common room!”
“Ron’s right, they wouldn’t tell you, no offence.” Harry said, “they’d only tell someone who
they think hates muggle-borns as well.”
“Like Crabbe and Goyle!” Ron exclaimed, “they are Draco’s closest friends—”
“It’s Theo actually.” She said but they ignored it.

“If Malfoy is the heir, they probably know and would be dumb enough to tell—”
“It’s not Draco, there’s a tapestry of his family line at his house there’s no Salazar Slytherin
in it—”
“If only we could pretend to be them—Harry you need to eat all the sweets and then you can
be Goyle,” Ron said with a mean laugh and Harry snorted.
Hermione paused. “There’s one way.” She said.
“What?”
“There might be a way for that, but it would be difficult. And dangerous, very dangerous.
We’d be breaking about fifty school rules, I expect—”
“If in a month or so, you feel like explaining, you will let us know, won’t you?” Ron snapped
irritably.
She turned to glare at him. How Harry put up with him was beyond her. “Polyjuice Potion.”
“What’s that?” both boys asked.
She rolled her eyes, “Honestly, Snape mentioned it in class a few weeks ago—”
“D’you think we’ve got nothing better to do in Potions than listen to Snape?” Ron asked.
“I’d only hope so!” She snapped, “Anyway, the potion transforms you into somebody else. If
you want to be ridiculous and think it’s Draco behind it, you could transform into Slytherins,
I could get us entry and you go on being stupid asking questions no one there knows the
answer to. And you will see I’m right!”
Harry seemed to completely ignore the last part; he had started grinning when she said
transform you into somebody else. “Malfoy would probably tell us anything! He’s probably
boasting about it in the Slytherin common room right now.” Hermione groaned and decided
to let the two make fool of themselves. It was a really nice opportunity for her to try to brew
a potion that otherwise she wouldn’t be able to do it.
“This Polyjuice stuff sounds a bit dodgy to me, what if we were stuck looking like three of
the Slytherins forever?”
Hermione didn’t comment that she was already a Slytherin. “It wears off after a while, of
course.” She sighed. “But getting hold of the recipe will be very difficult. Snape said it was in
a book called Moste Potente Potions and it’s bound to be in the Restricted Section of the
library.”
“Well, you are his favourite, ask him for a slip!”
“Of course, Ron.” Hermione rolled her eyes, “he’d gladly give me.”
“Honestly, you are our best chance.” Harry said, “I heard a sixth year Gryffindor talking how
you are tutoring a sixth-year student in Snape’s office—”
“What?” Ron snorted, “someone’s that dumb?”
Hermione wondered how the information that she was tutoring Marcus had already slipped.
She doubted he had told a lot of people; he had looked like he was about to combust when he
asked for help. Professor Snape had almost expelled Marcus right then when the boy
appeared at Snape’s office with Hermione in tow. Maybe it had been Higgs, he was from
Marcus year and a prefect— “Anyway,” she said, “Snape won’t ever fall for anything I say.
We need someone thicker.”
In the coming days, the most gullible teacher they could find was Lockhart. Hermione’s
crush, as well as the other girls, had all disappeared and they all pretended that it had never
happened. With each passing day, they grew certain that everything that was written on his
books was nothing more than very good stories, it seemed impossible that he had done any of
that.
“This is ridiculous.” Draco murmured that afternoon, as Greg and Milli were the chosen
students to act the most dramatic parts, “someone opened the Chamber of Secrets, letting a
millennial creature out and we are stuck with a professor for D.A.D.A that only cares about
which side his smile is better.”
“The left side.” Blaise pointed out and Theo snorted. Hermione shook her head. Lockhart,
just like Binns, didn’t care much about the students, Lockhart was always more interested in
showing a good performance to his portraits than teaching anything.
“I’d never thought I’d say it, but I kind of miss Quirrell,” Theo said.
“If we forget about the small matter of You-Know-Who under his turban, you say,” Pansy
said, she was too busy painting her nails and didn’t bother looking at them.
“I think I might write anything for the next class assignment and give myself a full grade and
ask him for an autograph, he wouldn’t even notice.” Vince said sniggering, “Marcus said it
worked the other day, that he was glad he didn’t need to worry about Defense this year.”
Hermione frowned. She was spending a good two hours with Marcus almost every day,
tutoring him, just to learn he was going to fake his scores.
“You shouldn’t do that!” Hermione hissed, “we need to learn things not only to pass a class
but because it’s important and—” she stopped, tongue halfway out when she caught the
expressions of her friends. “Not funny.”
“Oh, yes, it was.” Draco snickered, “how long Blaise?”
“Fifteen seconds. I thought it was a good time, last time—”
“Argh!” She exclaimed, Hermione knew she was blushing and by their snickers, they thought
it was very funny, she turned around on her seat, focusing on the last bits of the performance
happening on the makeshift stage, she thought Greg was a werewolf or something.
Hermione watched Lockhart throughout the rest of the class and Vince’s comment gave her
an idea. She pulled the slip of permission for the Restricted Session from her bag and studied
it. She only needed a signature. Hermione filled in the rest of the information she needed,
making her letters small that with a glance it wouldn’t be easy to read.
“What are you doing?” Theo asked beside her and she jumped, splaying a hand over the slip
of paper.
“Nothing.” She croaked.
Theo snorted. “Sure.”
When the class finished, she waited for everyone to leave and approached Lockhart.
“Professor Lockhart?” Hermione stammered. He offered her one of his big smiles, it was
very nice indeed and worthy of winning awards. “I wanted to get this book out of the library.
Just for background reading.” She held out the piece of paper to him. “But the thing is, it’s in
the Restricted Section of the library, so I need a teacher to sign for it. I’m sure it would help
me understand what you say in Gadding with Ghouls about slow-acting venoms —”
“Ah, Gadding with Ghouls!” he said with a huge grin, taking the note from her. “Possibly my
very favourite book. You enjoyed it?”
“Oh, yes,” Hermione said eagerly. “So clever, the way you trapped that last one with the tea-
strainer—”
Lockhart chest filled with pride and really, Hermione wondered how she could have found
him attractive in the first place, especially when he looked like a pompous git, just like
Draco, which annoyed her to no end.
“Well, I’m sure no one will mind me giving the best student of the year a little extra help.”
He said with a wink and without another glance at the title written on her paper, signed it
with a flourish.
Hermione was quick to get the paper from him and slip out of the classroom. She had barely
gone through the door when someone snatched the paper from her. “Hey!” She exclaimed
and found Theo holding it over his head. She hated how much taller than her he was. “Give it
back.”
“Moste Potent Potions?” He asked with an arched eyebrow. “What Little Miss Potioneer here
wants with Moste Potent Potions?”
“To have a look!” She said and jumped to get the paper from him, he let her have it easily. “I
was wondering what kinds of potions there are after Professor Snape mentioned it and—”
“You heard Vince talking about how he’d sign anything you give him, and you thought it was
easier to trick our high-esteemed teacher there, appealing to his ego than to ask Snape or I
don’t know, Draco and I, for a book that we sure have in our libraries?” He asked, his smirk
already in place. “Cunning, Granger. I thought you didn’t have it in you.”
Hermione glared. “I’m glad I ticked another item on your list. What’s next?”
Theo’s smirk widened. “You are only lacking on traditionalism, really.”
“I will wear a bonnet tomorrow, how’s that?” She asked and Theo snorted.
“Blaise was right,” he said and offered his elbow for her to grab, she rolled her eyes and
ignored it, following him to their next class. “We don’t know what we are missing, do we?”
Hermione kept the slip safely stored in her bag for the remainder of the day and before
dinner, she went to the library to get the book checked out. Madam Pince looked at the paper
and then at Hermione suspiciously. Hermione tried her best to not look suspicious, trying to
channel her inner Draco Malfoy. She had almost managed to copy the air of superiority when
the librarian sighed and went to retrieve the book.
It was a big, mouldy-looking book, Hermione’s eyes twinkled, and she wondered just how
often someone opened that book. She put it inside her bag and already used to it weighing
more than it should, went down for dinner. Harry and Ron were coming down as well and
they agreed to meet at Myrtle’s bathroom after dinner. Harry wanted to go straight away, but
Hermione didn’t want to risk missing another meal with the two of them. She had scored her
house ten points at Charms that morning.
Hermione sat down next to Pansy and Blaise who were talking about the first quidditch
match on Saturday. She snuck a glance at Draco, who besides the easy grin and squared
shoulders, had a nervous glint in his eyes. He must be nervous, she thought. It would be his
first game and people would expect Slytherin to win because of their fancy, expensive
brooms. She reached his calf with her shoes, kicking it slightly and when she caught his
attention, she smiled encouragingly at him. Something twisted in her belly when his feet
bumped against her and he kept it pressed against hers.
She knew she was right. Harry and Ron were being ridiculous, Draco had nothing to do with
the chamber.
They enjoyed dinner, the game on Saturday soon gave way to what had happened, and they
tried to guess who could be the Heir of Slytherin. Hermione only listened and much like the
Hufflepuffs, her housemates believed Harry was the one behind it all.
“Aren’t you going back to the common room?” Pansy asked her when she noticed Hermione
turning to the other way.
“I wanted to check something in the library first.”
Blaise had stopped too, Theo beside him. “You shouldn’t be on your own,” Blaise said, he
had his arms crossed on his chest.
“Harry is meeting me there.” She said and Blaise’s expression grew harder, Pansy scowled.
“Now it worries me more.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, “it’s not him. In fact,” Hermione said with a chuckle, “he believes
it’s Draco.”
“Me?” Draco asked his blond eyebrow arching. “I didn’t know Potter thought that highly of
me.” He said with a scoff.
“Or lowly,” Hermione murmured and after promising she wasn’t at risk of being attacked on
the way to the library—or the girl’s bathroom, in this case, went to find the boys.
“What took you so long?” Ron asked as a greeting.
“My friends, differently from what you two believe, were worried about me walking alone in
the castle.”
Myrtle, who had been quiet in her corner, let a loud sob and began crying noisily in one of
the stalls, they could hear her lamenting how no one cared about her.
Hermione opened the book on her lap, not wanting to risk it getting wet, Ron and Harry bent
over it and they quickly understood why the book belonged in the Restricted Section. She
didn’t think it was necessary a few of the illustrations on some pages. “Here,” she said
excitedly as they reached the letter P. There were a few drawings of people halfway through
transformation. It didn’t look pleasant.
She read the ingredients list and her eyes widened. “This is the most complicated potion I’ve
ever seen. Lacewing flies, leeches, fluxweed, and knotgrass—Well, that’s easy, they are in the
student store-cupboard—no, where are we going to get that? I don’t think there’s any skin of
boomslang there, shredded or not—ah, of course, a bit of whoever we’re changing into—
that’s easy enough and—”
“Wait, stop there,” Ron said. “What do you mean? A bit of whoever we’re changing into?
I’m not drinking anything with Crabbe’s toenail in it—”
She ignored him, sometimes he was as dense as Vince. “That’s for last, of course. It makes
sense,” she said as she kept reading the instructions.
“Hermione,” Harry called, “You realize how much we’re going to have to steal, right?
Shredded skin of a boomslang, that’s definitely not in the students’ cupboard. What’re we
going to do, break into Snape’s private stores?” He said and Hermione nodded, she had come
to that realisation as well. It shouldn’t be a problem, with how much time she was spending
in his office with Marcus, maybe she could find a— “I don’t know if this is a good idea—”
Hermione shut the book with a snap. She glared at him. She wanted to brew this potion now.
Hermione had never seen anything similar. All those ingredients, steps and having to pick a
few ingredients under the full moon and focus, she thought to herself. “Well, if you two are
going to chicken out, fine,” She snapped. “I already said it’s a ridiculous notion, it’s not
Draco and I don’t want to break rules, you know, for something this ridiculous. But I agreed!
And yes, I think someone in Slytherin must know something and I think finding out who
want Muggle-borns out of Hogwarts is more important and we should do it even if it comes
with brewing a difficult potion!”
Ron looked at her like she had grown an arm on her head like one of the illustrations they had
just seen. “I never thought I’d see the day when you’d be persuading us to break rules,” He
said. “All right, we’ll do it. But not toenails, okay?”
Hermione waved him off, hair would be fine. “How long will it take to make, anyway?”
Harry asked her.
“Well, since the fluxweed has got to be picked at the full moon and the lacewings have got to
be stewed for twenty-one days—” she hesitated, “I’d say it’d be ready in about a month if we
can get all the ingredients like today or tomorrow at most.”
“A month?” Ron asked, mouth hanging open. Really, he had no idea how potions worked.
“Malfoy could have attacked half the Muggle-borns in the school by then!” Hermione’s eyes
narrowed at him and she saw him gulping. “But it’s the best plan we’ve got, so full steam
ahead, I say.”
“It is.” She said icily, “and I will tell you again, it’s not Draco.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Ron said and muttered to Harry, “It’ll be a lot less hassle if you can just knock
Malfoy off his broom tomorrow.” Hermione pretended not to hear him.
As it turned out, knocking Malfoy off his broom wasn’t on the plans, because no matter what
Harry did, the Bludger wouldn’t leave Harry’s side. Vince and Greg were sniggering, and
Hermione had snagged Theo’s binoculars so often that he gave it to her and decided to share
Blaise’s.
“Why isn’t anyone doing anything?” She hissed. “Can’t they see something is wrong?”
Hermione asked as the game stopped and the Gryffindors seemed to argue among
themselves.
“They are going to blame us for that, do you want to bet?” Blaise said and Theo nodded.
“If any of you—” she started, and Theo pulled on her scarf.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” He rolled his eyes, “It would be too risky, Dumbledore would forbid
Slytherin to play at all and—”
“Theo!” She shrieked.
“What? I’m just telling you; no one is crazy enough. And besides, our brooms are no match.
There’s no reason for us to pull anything.”
“I think Wood did it on purpose.” Blaise said, “got scared to play us and wanted to find a way
to forfeit the game.” Hermione didn’t mention that it sounded a lot like something they’d do,
not the Gryffindors.
The game resumed and the rain began falling even harder. Hermione was certain she hated
Quidditch by now. She and Daphne were squeezing themselves under the umbrella, but the
boys were having so much fun with the Bludger going after Harry that they often jostled
them in their celebrations.
Draco had found Harry and they were probably antagonizing each other, a hundred meters
high in the air and Hermione squeezed Daphne’s hand in apprehension when the Bludger hit
Harry square on his arm. From up there and with that much rain, they couldn’t see much,
only Harry lunging for Draco, Hermione squeezed Daphne’s hand again as the boy made a
wild grab with his good arm, inches from Draco’s face. Draco swerved and Harry went down,
both arms crossed around his belly and holding the broom with only his legs. Hermione was
almost on the edge of her seat, roaring all around her, she watched in a mute yell as Harry hit
the ground.
Harry waved his good arm, the Golden Snitch shone in his hand, but then his arm fell limp
and he fainted. She gasped, “Harry!”
There was a crowd of Gryffindor’s around Harry and Hermione couldn’t properly see what
was happening, even with the binoculars. She saw Lockhart arriving there first and then Fred
and George helping Ron take Harry out.
The Slytherins around them were already leaving the stands, complaining and throwing
insults for another loss. Pansy grabbed Hermione’s sleeve. “I know you want to see how
Potter is,” Pansy said, and Hermione saw the raven-haired girl eyes’ flashing, “But we just
lost.” She said, “Draco just lost, he—” Hermione noticed she was working her jaw; whatever
Pansy was trying to say wasn’t coming easily. “You should be there for him. We should.”
Pansy said, “we are his friends. Potter was walking, it’s just a broken arm. Madam Pomfrey
can deal with it in a blink.”
Hermione nodded. She was worried about Harry, but there was something in Pansy’s tone
that compelled Hermione to stay.
The mood in the Slytherin common room matched one of a funeral. They were all wet and
dispirited, much different from the high spirits that left the common room that morning.
Marcus entered first, swearing and kicking around, Higgs was much the same. Draco wasn’t
the most charming person and his negative traits were numerous, but she felt something
twisting her heart all the same at the sight of him. Hermione didn’t think Draco was created
to be defeated, there was something intrinsically wrong with the sight of Draco Malfoy
looking down, with his shoulders slouched and shame on his features.
He went straight to them, sitting between her and Pansy. Hermione wanted to reach, wanted
to offer comfort, but everyone else simply struck a conversation that had nothing to do with
the match and let Draco wallow on his defeat in silence. She did the same and ignored her
pounding heart when Draco pressed the side of his quidditch boots to her shoes.
The Slytherins were known for their self-preservation and they knew better than go out of
their common room after losing yet again the first game of the season. They all spread
around, it wasn’t as cold as it could get, but Hermione’s blue fire had already made a
presence in their dungeons, especially after spending the entire morning out in the rain.
She had a book on her lap, and her legs tucked underneath her, Draco had gone to the floor,
where he was playing a game of Exploding Snap with the boys. Pansy and Daphne were
testing spells on each other to dye their hair. Daphne’s hair was lighter, so she was having
better results than Pansy. Milli and Tracey were playing Wizard Chess and Milli’s cat was
poking the pieces with its paw and twice a knight had swatted at the cat’s paw.
They left the common room for dinner, but it was a quiet and quick meal because the rest of
the school were making loud comments about Slytherin’s performance and Hermione could
see the Weasley twins reacting to what Hermione could only assume was Marcus berating
Draco’s performance. She knew she was right when she caught Draco’s deadly glare in their
direction.
“Ugh,” Pansy said when Hermione had just finished her dinner. “What’s wrong with the elves
today?” She asked in her snob tone, “this food is horrible.” She complained. Hermione knew
there wasn’t anything wrong with the food. “Let’s go back, I think I still have some baked
goods my mother sent me this morning. I can’t eat this.” She pushed the plate away from her.
Draco nodded.
“I still haven’t eaten des—” Vince complained, and Blaise elbowed him, grabbing a few
chicken wings from the table and shoving at the boy.
Draco was the first to get up, Pansy was right after him. The two went ahead and Hermione
helped Vince and Greg to fill their plates with whatever they could bring back to their
common room.
“Do you want more potatoes?” Blaise asked Theo, “they are your favourites.”
Hermione watched through the corner as Theo blushed and shook his head. “I’m full.”
“That’s why you are skinny,” Blaise said and put a few potatoes on a plate anyway. Hermione
exchanged a glance with Daphne, who was already smirking.
“You are not my mom,” Theo complained and with a huff stalked away.
“Potatoes are also my favourite, Blaise,” Daphne said, with too much fluttering of eyelashes.
“I didn’t ask you.” He said with a smirk and Daphne snorted.
“I’m onto you Zabini.” Daphne sing-sung and strutted away, leaving Hermione with the
feeling she had missed something.
Blaise was looking at her with an amused expression, which only made her annoyed. “Not
everything is on a book, Hermione.”
Severus had already retreated for the night, after spending an entire afternoon with Flitwick
trying to find out who had bewitched that Bludger, he was exhausted. Not to mention that
they had to work under the watchful eye of Madam Hooch who complained through it all,
saying they were going to fix the balls with all that tampering they were doing. He was more
than glad to go straight to his quarters after dinner and enjoy an early night.
But of course, nothing went as planned in his life and he was awoken by Dumbledore’s
Patronus calling him and all the other teachers to his office at two in the morning.
Severus arrived with Aurora, who was the only one looking like she hadn’t been woken up by
Dumbledore’s Patronus.
Minerva was looking quite pale and Albus was walking from one side to the other; Flitwick
was on top of a chair muttering something under his breath and the other teachers were all
glancing between them in apprehension. Even the half-giant was there. The only professor
missing was Lockhart. Severus doubted Albus had even remembered him.
“Forgive me for taking all of you out of your beds at this time,” Albus said after he had
stopped pacing. “I’m afraid we had another attack.”
Severus’ chest constricted. He wanted to bolt from there and go straight to his dungeons, to
check on his daughter, make sure she was still sleeping on her bed.
A few professors gasped. “Who?”
“Collin Creevey.” Minerva replied, “he’s a first-year student in my house,” there was a pause,
“a muggle-born.”
“Is it true then, Headmaster?” Burbage asked, “The Chamber has been opened?”
“Yes.” He replied, his voice uncharacteristically sombre, “Our students are in grave danger.”
“But it’s only the muggle-borns, right? Last time the attacks were—” Flitwick stopped.
“Last time?” Grubbly-Plank asked, “has this happened again? The myths were true?”
Flitwick, small as he was, seemed ready to disappear. “Yes, Professor. The chamber was
opened fifty years ago and as result, a muggle-born was killed. She haunts one of the
bathrooms up to this day.” Albus told them. “We almost had to close the school, but with the
expulsion of a student and the end of the attacks, we were able to make the story about the
Chamber disappear.”
“So, whoever did it last time was caught?” Babbling asked.
“No,” Dumbledore said and Hagrid, due to all his size, was quite clear when the man was
uncomfortable. “The student expelled was nothing but a pawn to hide the true responsible
behind those acts.”
“We have no idea who’s doing it this time?”
“I believe it’s the same person who was behind it the last time, the only question is how they
are doing it when they were supposed to be dead.” Ominous Albus, Severus thought. Exactly
what they needed at almost three in the morning of a Sunday.
Minerva was glaring again, just like him, she didn’t appreciate Albus’ sense of humour in
times like these. “We are going to have to search the school again,” she said. “Many times,
the school was searched for the Chamber, without success, but we are going to look again.
Collin has been petrified, but we can’t guarantee the next student attacked won’t have the
same fate as Myrtle.”
“Precisely!” Flitwick squeaked.
“At the moment, we have seventeen muggle-born students. Seven in Ravenclaw, five in
Gryffindor, four in Hufflepuff and one in Slytherin.” Minerva told them.
“She’s not really a muggle-born, is she?” Vector asked, with an eyebrow raised.
“We are going to find out,” Albus murmured and Severus felt the urge to throw the Pensive
the man was about to peer inside on his long nose.
“Albus!” Minerva reprimanded. “As far as we know, she’s a muggle-born.” Minerva turned
to them, “We have to keep an eye on them. Us, Head of Houses shall instruct the students to
not let any muggle-born walk around the castle unaccompanied, it’s better to be in groups
than alone. You can wake them up or tell them first thing in the morning. I don’t want any
muggle-born going to breakfast by themselves tomorrow morning.” She said and sighed. “I
think it’s all for now.” Minerva finished, after turning to Albus, who only nodded.
“Severus, if you don’t mind staying a bit more.” He said.
The other professors left, Hagrid and Minerva lingered. Hagrid was looking rather anxious
and only left when Dumbledore said they were going to talk in the morning. Severus
furrowed his eyebrows. “Was Hagrid the student blamed for the attacks?”
Dumbledore’s eyes glinted. “Nothing escapes you, Severus,” he said amused. “Still surprises
me sometimes.” The man let out small laughter. “But yes, it was him. Tom blamed Hagrid’s
Acromantula for the attacks and Hagrid was expelled. But I knew it wasn’t neither Hagrid
nor Aragog attacking students fifty years ago, that’s why I allowed both to remain in the
castle.”
“Both?”
“Yes, Aragog lives in the forest now, Hagrid told me he made a big family during these
years.”
“Lovely,” Severus muttered.
“Tell me, Severus. How do you think the Chamber has been reopened?”
Severus, if being truthful, could admit that there were a few traits that he admired and
respected in Albus Dumbledore, but his preference for evading the main question wasn’t one
of them. “Lucius Malfoy,” Severus replied, not one to play another man’s game.
After thirteen years, he still felt like the man was testing Severus’ loyalty.
“Yeah, I thought so. Since his master showed signs of returning last year, and all those many
raids at the Manor, I’d believe he must be feeling restless.” Albus commented, “I don’t think
Voldemort will appreciate learning that his faithful servant has been living comfortably all
these years.”
“I doubt it,” Severus said, as he knew quite well just how restless Lucius was.
“How has Lucius done it? I don’t think he’s using his son for it. The Malfoy boy might not
show much, but I don’t think he’d wish harm on the girl, not when the boy is fascinated by
her.”
Severus decided to ignore the last bit. “It’s a diary. It’s Voldemort’s diary from his time at
school. Lucius only told me the diary had the instructions of how to open it, but when I saw
it, it was filled with blank pages.” Severus explained, “Of course, he didn’t let me hold it, so I
couldn’t study it for any dark magic.”
Dumbledore hummed and looked intrigued. “Do you know who has this diary, now?”
“No. It’s not his son, he wouldn’t risk the boy or their name. I’ve been paying attention to my
house, I have yet to find someone suspicious.”
Albus nodded. “This kind of magic is bigger than any eleven to seventeen-year-old can
handle, we will know it soon.” Severus turned to go as he watched Albus remove a memory
from his head and drop it on the pensive.
He returned to his office, now feeling wide-awake. He considered storming to Malfoy Manor
and tearing Lucius a new one for indeed going for it and finding a way to get that cursed
diary inside the castle. Severus had no doubts that if it weren’t for him knowing that the diary
was a part of Lucius’ collection, they’d have nothing connecting the man with the opening of
the chamber. That slippery snake.
Severus went back to bed, trying to catch a couple of hours of sleep before talking to his
students first thing in the morning.
A little past seven, with not even two hours of sleep, Severus was leaving his quarters to
wake his students up. It was Sunday and he knew most of them wouldn’t get up for at least
three more hours, but since he didn’t get to sleep a lot, he decided they wouldn’t as well.
He used a Sonorus and called everyone down. A few came wrapped in their duvets, others
leaning on their friends, more than a few came with nests as hairs. Severus’ heart only
quieted when he saw a particular exhibit of nest exiting the girls’ corridor.
“Wat go’ on?” A student slurred. He was rubbing his bare chest and Severus glared at him
and twirled his wand at the boy, conjuring him a shirt, for girls and a few boys with barely
opened eyes, were eyeing him up. Not to mention the eleven, twelve-year-olds gaping at the
boy’s toned chest.
“Is everyone here?” He asked when the common room seemed crowded enough. His prefects
looked around and nodded in response. “I’m only going to say this once.” He begun. “Last
night a student was attacked: Collin Creevey, from Gryffindor. He’s a muggle-born in his first
year. He has been petrified.” The students were fully awake now, there was no more yawning
around the room. He glared at all of them for good measure. “I strongly recommend that the
responsible come clean right now,” he started, his voice pure ice. “I might be able to keep
you out of Azkaban for that because this—" Severus removed from his pocket a small vial,
he showed it to them, “might not be allowed to use on students, but I’m going to sit every
single one of you and pour a drop down your throats if I even think any of you has anything
to do with these attacks. And if I find the culprit, the person is going to spend a long stay in
Azkaban.” He threatened.
Slytherin worked better under threats and fear, he knew that quite well. He also knew that
probably none of them knew anything, but it was always better to be sure.
“Miss Granger,” he called, and the girl jumped, he noticed that she was gripping Parkinson’s
hand quite tightly. “Starting tomorrow, I don’t want to see you walking around in the castle
unaccompanied.” He told her, “I don’t care if you have to use the bathroom, I want someone
outside your stall.” He hissed and the girl nodded with wide, scared eyes. “This is my
warning to all of you, now. There are seventeen muggle-borns in Hogwarts, one has already
been attacked. There’s only one in Slytherin. The other houses all have at least four to worry
about and starting tomorrow every muggle-born is to be accompanied at all times. Do you
understand?”
Everyone nodded, Parkinson even tugged Hermione closer to her. Good.
“Avery, Nott. With me, now.” He said and since Theo was closer to him, he could see the
boy’s reaction. Mr Zabini, beside Theo, glared at Severus.
The brunette boy scoffed, “this is the only kind of shit I can expect from that man.” He
muttered and Severus understood the feeling.
“That’s bullshit.” Zabini snapped, his green were eyes on fire. Interesting. “Theo has nothing
to do with the attacks.”
“I know Mr Zabini.” Severus drawled, “Had your father attended Hogwarts fifty years ago
and could tell us about the attacks that happened then, I’d invite you along.”
The boys followed him to his office, still with pyjamas pants and bed hair. As soon as
Severus closed the door, Avery spoke. “Listen, professor, I’m only trying to finish the year,
alright?”
“I know neither of you has anything to do with this.” He said.
“Good.” Avery sighed. “I just wanna graduate, get my things and my mama and get the fuck
away from him before I end up branded.”
Theo was much quieter beside him, just nodding along, in what Severus was almost certain
was an unconscious reaction. “I just need some information. Anything you two might have of
what happened fifty years ago. Any passing comment or mention of the chamber.”
“There isn’t much professor.” Avery said, “we were talking about it the other day, of what we
knew. I’m not stupid enough to say who opened it back then, I don’t think Theo did either—”
Theo shook his head. “People don’t remember his name, I don’t think father has mentioned it
in years, not after You-Know-Who stopped using it entirely after being denied a position here
in the castle.” The boy said and Severus was surprised that the boy knew this much. “I was
five the first time I heard of the Chamber, I only remember because mother got upset that
they were talking about murders in front of me, father said it was the last time the school got
close to a cleansing and You-Know-Who said time would come soon. He only talked once
more about it, when he told me about the girl who was killed. I don’t remember much more.
If you promise I get to leave, come July, you can have my memory.”
“There’s no need, Severin,” Severus told the boy.
“I don’t think my father has anything to do with these attacks. He didn’t say anything that
might lead me to believe he knew something was going to happen.”
“We are inclined to believe that as well,” Severus told him and Theo shuffled next to him.
Theo knew more, Severus noted. “The location of the chamber remains a secret, as well as
what lies inside. That’s why we called you two, after all, besides the headmaster, there aren’t
many people who were here when it happened, especially people who knew him from
before.”
Severin scoffed, “People out of Azkaban, you mean.”
“That as well.” Severus said, “you may go. I will speak with Mr Nott, now.”
Severus watched as Theo’s blue eyes glazed over and he became emotionless. He had to
admit, Narcissa knew how to teach Occlumency. “Tell me, Theo, what your father and
Lucius’ been up to?” Severus asked. Nothing, not even a crack could be seen in the boy’s
eyes. “If Dumbledore hadn’t reached his quota with me and Mrs Babbling, I’d tell him to
invite Narcissa to teach Defense Against the Dark arts, because her teaching skills are truly
remarkable.” He said with a scoff. The boy still didn’t twitch. “I know it’s Lucius doing,
Theo.” He snarled, “now tell me what lovely things your father might have told you about the
first opening of the chamber.”
“The girl found all those years ago, she had no marks on her body, almost as if she had been
killed by the Killing Curse. So, whatever it is that lives inside the Chamber, can kill without a
trace.” The boy told him, “Father also said that only You-Know-Who could control it,
because of his lineage. You-Know-Who has no heirs professor, as dead men do not
procreate.”
“I’m aware of that, Theodore.” Severus snarled.
“It’s him controlling the creature, from whatever form he chose this time.” Theo said, “but
you also know that. I spent the summer at the Malfoy Manor, I know less than you,
Professor.” Theo said with a shrug. “But father already wrote me asking if anything
interesting is happening, so should I write him back?”
“You didn’t learn Occlumency to write things to your father.” Severus scowled. “Go. Keep an
eye on her.” He said and Theo gave him a small smirk.
“I don’t think we need to do that.” He murmured and with a chuckle, Theo let himself out.
Severus frowned at the place the boy had been. He had to have a word with Narcissa
urgently.
Chapter End Notes
The title of this chapter and the quote at the beginning belong to Sleeping At Last's
Mind.
Excerpts were taken from Harry Potter and the Chambers of Secrets, they belong to the
author.
Updates come every Friday!
Please leave a comment! I love reading all of them.
stitch by stitch, i tear apart
Chapter Notes
Hello! Thank you so much for the comments on the last chapter!
While I was editing this chapter I realised that it was a bit short so I decided to add the
next on to this update, so it's a double update, sort of?
Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!!
You let me set sail with cheap wood

So I patched up every leak that I could
'Til the blame grew too heavy
Chapter Ten
December, 1992. Hogwarts
True to Professor’s Snape requests, her friends began a rotation system to follow her around,
which was equal parts heart-warming and annoying. Sometimes Daphne or Tracey would go
as far as follow her into the bathroom in their common room; Blaise would simply link their
arms together and go from class to class. Their only problem was Hermione’s library time: no
one was willing to go with her, as she was known to spend hours in there.
During breakfast on that first morning, Hermione had to be escorted through the short
distance between the Slytherin table to the Gryffindor table by Vince and Greg, their excuse
was: if she died no one would proof-read their assignments.
After safely arriving at the Gryffindor table, she and Ron went straight to the girl’s bathroom.
They didn’t have time to waste. Harry knocked on the stall they were brewing ten minutes
later, and he squeezed himself inside.
“Dobby came to visit me again last night,” Harry said and Hermione froze mid stir. He told
them what the elf had said, and Hermione furrowed her brows throughout the entire story.
“I told you!” She said, annoyed, “I told you all that days ago!”
Harry at least looked apologetic, “I’m sorry Hermione, it’s just—”
She huffed. “It baffles me that you would trust a creature you never met before and only
brought you problems rather than me just because I’m their friend. I told you all of this
before. I told you the chamber had been opened.”
“I know, I’m sorry, I should’ve listened to you.”
“Well,” Ron started, he looked unimpressed with Hermione’s previous information. “We are
right about Malfoy, though.” He said and Hermione gaped at him, she was certain her chin
was reaching the floor.
“What?” She managed to formulate.
“Lucius Malfoy must’ve opened the Chamber when he was at school here and now he’s told
dear old Draco how to do it. It’s obvious.”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “What is obvious,” she started, a hissing to her voice that was
perfected after months with the snakes. “Is how terrible at maths you are. I said the Chamber
opened fifty years ago. Lucius isn’t even forty!”
“Well—” Ron started, “Maybe he—”
“You are reaching because you think it’s Draco.” She pointed out, her voice flat.
Harry interrupted, which was something he often did when the three of them got together. “I
just wish Dobby had told me what kind of monster’s in there, though.” He said, pulling the
topic away from Draco.
Hermione nodded. That was something that intrigued her as well. “No one knows about it.
Professor Snape called a few students that had parents in school when the Chamber was
opened the last time,” she said, avoiding Theo’s name. Lest she needed was Ron pointing
fingers at Theo. “No one knew anything.”
Harry was polite enough to only sigh and not scoff as Ron had done. “How come nobody’s
noticed it sneaking around the school.” He said, clearly frustrated.
“Maybe it can make itself invisible,” she tried, eyes back on the cauldron. “Or maybe it can
disguise itself— pretend to be a suit of armour or something — I’ve read about Chameleon
Ghouls—”
“You read too much, Hermione,” Ron said, and she bit down a comment. He clearly read too
little. At least he was good at following instructions because he poured dead lacewings on top
of the leeches.
They talked about Dobby a little more and Hermione decided she would tell Harry, and only
Harry, about the elf’s masters if the creature did something again.
The weeks passed, thankfully without further attacks, but Hermione could see the strain
forming in their professors’ foreheads. They were busy looking for any indication of the
chamber around the castle and nothing so far had been conclusive. Professor Snape was
looking even sourer with each passing day and classes in the Potions’ dungeons were filled
with long silences. Hermione was dreading the moment she would have to steal from him.
In the second week of December, Snape asked around who was going to stay, and Hermione
furrowed her eyebrows when she saw Draco signing up. “Why are you staying?” Pansy
asked.
“Mother isn’t throwing a ball this year, she said it wouldn’t look proper with everything that
is going on.” He said, “and she said father has been in a right temper, so I decided to stay and
avoid whatever is going on.”
Hermione’s mind went straight to Dobby and Hermione wondered if Narcissa was writing
anything of importance in the long letters she’d send Draco every other day.
“Merlin forbids I stay here over Christmas,” Pansy said with a fake shudder and threw a
sleazy wink at the statue of the warlock.
Theo nodded in consent; Hermione knew he was going to spend at least part of the break
with Blaise, - his mother wanted to introduce her new boyfriend to her son - and Blaise
decided to drag a more than willing Theo with him. Hermione didn’t talk much with Theo—
which she found annoying because he was more pleasant than Draco and seemed to share her
passion for learning—but even so, she was extremely grateful for what Blaise was doing. She
saw dread colouring the boy’s features every time they got close to boarding the train back.
Draco barely had to ask for Vince and Greg to sign and Hermione, on a whim, signed her
name as well.
She said to herself that it was because of the potion and not because of Draco.
The potion was half-finished, the only thing left was the ingredients in Snape’s private stores.
She needed a plan. In the days that came, besides the times they went to the potions’
dungeons for classes, she also spent a few afternoons with Marcus as part of their tutoring.
Hermione used her time with Flint when Snape would be often busy marking assignments or
brewing something on his corner, to make a plan.
Hermione would need a full classroom. There was nothing she could do in the few hours that
she spent with Marcus, Snape wouldn’t even look at them, but they were too scared to even
breathe too loudly. It also didn’t help that every time she explained something that was from
the years ahead, she’d sweat and expect the Potion’s Master to snarl and say she was wrong.
That had yet to happen, but Hermione feared anyway. She would see boggarts next year,
Hermione wondered if hers would be him telling her she was wrong.
During Potions, Snape would always walk around them throwing criticism and waspish
remarks about their works, the only ones to escape his berating were Hermione and Draco,
but even then, it didn’t compare to what the Gryffindors had to deal with. Hermione saw her
opportunity when Greg did something to his potion that filled the classroom with heavy
smoke and a terrible odour. It took Snape five minutes to make the smoke clear and another
two minutes of berating Greg.
After that class, she cornered Harry and told him half of her plan. She had learned not to put
all her eggs in a basket and decided to keep a few parts of it to herself, in case something
went wrong. They had to make something explode, cloud the classroom with enough smoke
that Hermione could leave her desk, enter his stores and return without being seen. Harry
offered his cloak and Hermione grinned at him.
It took Harry less than a day to pass her two of Fred’s Filibuster fireworks between classes
and it took Hermione less than that to coerce Greg and Vince to sacrifice a grade in exchange
for a lifetime of proofreading and her notes.
When double Potions with the Gryffindors arrived in the next week, there was an Invisibility
Cloak in Hermione’s bag, as well as Filibuster fireworks in Vince’s, Greg’s and Harry’s.
Neither party knew of the other.
Like perfect little soldiers, Vince and Greg sat in front of Finnigan and Thomas that day,
earning a curious brow from Theo and Draco. Theo’s curious brow soon turned into a
suspicious one when he looked at her. Hermione remembered that he caught her whispering
with Vince and Greg at the library the other day and the same arched eyebrow, he had given
her then, was on his face now.
Hermione sat at her usual seat, right in front of the class. Theo, suspicious as a cat, sat next to
her. The class began as normal, Snape strolling around, eyes sharp and mouth twisting at
what he saw. Hermione remained in silence, no questions asked, because her signal for them
to act would be when she asked a question. She needed something inconspicuous, something
that they’d be expecting, both students and Professor Snape.
Thirty minutes in, when Snape was snarling at Brown’s potion by the back of the class,
Hermione called Snape.
The boys waited for Snape to make a beeline to her and just as he reached her, they heard it.
Three cauldrons exploded, Swelling Solution hit almost every student around those three
cauldrons. Hermione saw Draco’s face swelling like a balloon.
Theo, even as suspicious as he was, couldn’t help but to turn and crane his neck to see what
had happened. Hermione took the opportunity and quickly slipped the cloak on, sliding out of
her desk and rushing to Snape’s stores.
From all the days with Marcus, she had an idea of where the ingredients were and quickly
managed to find the shredded skin of boomslang. Smoothly grabbing it and putting it in her
pockets, she left the cupboard and sat back down on her desk. The entire class was in heavy
fog and Snape was still snarling at them, trying to clean the mess she had made. Half of the
classroom was in a line, some weighted down with arms like clubs, others unable to talk
through gigantic puffed-up lips.
She removed the cloak and quickly hid it in her bag. Theo didn’t even flinch, which told her
he hadn’t noticed her disappearance.
“Nice toy you have there,” Or maybe not. Theo said, without turning his head to look at her.
Hermione jumped and she felt herself blushing. His eyes were still fixed on the commotion
happening on the other side of the class.
“Thank you, comes in handy.” She replied, faking nonchalant.

There was a slight curve on Theo’s mouth, he still didn’t look at her. “First the slip from
Lockhart, now stealing from Snape. Should I curse my pockets in case you find yourself
wanting to try pickpocketing next?”
“Not unless you have something I need in there.” She replied and the curve of his mouth
grew. They didn’t say anything else, just watched as Draco complained and snarled.
When everyone had taken a swig of antidote and the various swellings had subsided,
Professor Snape swept over to the three cauldrons that had exploded and scooped out the
twisted black remains of fireworks.
Hermione made sure to look surprised.
“If I ever find out who threw this,” Snape whispered, “I shall make sure that person is
expelled.” He said and Hermione was lucky that the professor was glaring at Harry because
her expression was certainly one of guilt.
In between classes, she ran back to the bathroom and finally added the missing ingredient,
automatically getting rid of the evidence and finishing the potion.
Before dinner that day, Hermione passed to both boys a copy of her notes from
Transfiguration and their eyes glinted with appreciation, the small matter of having their
faces and hands swollen all forgotten.
Hermione knew there was a chance that Professor Snape suspected of her and Harry because
he had taken to glare at them every time they managed to look at the man in the eyes. The
only thing that eased her mind was that there wasn’t a thing Snape couldn’t do to prove it.
Finnigan had no idea what had happened, Harry for someone who played Seeker, showed
amazing aim and both Slytherin boys were too glad to have all the help Hermione was
providing that they swore for their lives that they didn’t say anything when Snape had asked
if they saw anyone throwing the fireworks.
A week later, their Potions Master appeared in their common room with parchment in hand.
Hermione froze for a second, thinking it was her expulsion notice but soon she could breathe
properly again when he just pinned it to their notice board.
He glared at her before leaving and Theo snorted beside her. “He knows it was you.”
“He can’t prove it.” She whispered, waiting for one of the students who had run to see what
Snape had pinned and shout to the rest of the house.
“And that’s why he’s in such a sour mood,” Theo said in agreement and Hermione shrugged.
“A duelling club!” Someone shouted and it peaked Hermione’s attention. “Finally, they are
making an official Dueling Club!” the boy said.
“And the first meeting is tonight,” Gemma said, “at eight o’clock in the Great hall.”
“We should go.” She said and her friends around her all nodded.
“Draco can get a rematch this way,” Blaise said with a grin and shot her a wink.
The boy in mention scowled. “I let her win.” He said and they all laughed.
“Mate, that’s the biggest lie you ever told, and you are a real liar,” Theo said with a chuckle.
They spent the remaining hour before eight talking about spells and with whom they’d like to
duel. Draco was in a rant trying to gauge whether would be a waste of time to duel Weasley
or it would be nice having the red-headed boy thrown back without losing any points.
At eight, they left their dungeons towards the great hall. Once there they saw that the long
dining tables had vanished and a golden stage had appeared along one wall, lit by thousands
of candles floating overhead. The ceiling was velvety black once more and Hermione thought
the entire school seemed to be there. Everyone was looking excited.
“Do you think we will get to see the teachers duel??” Draco asked.
“That would be cool,” Hermione said. “Someone told me Flitwick was a duelling champion
when he was young, maybe it’ll be him.”
“With all the notes you’ve been passing Vince, maybe he can even win against Lockhart.”
Theo sniggered and shoved her with his shoulder playfully. She looked around to see if
anyone had seen him doing it, to get confirmation that she hadn’t just hallucinated, but
everyone was craning their necks to see the platform.
That was an improvement, Hermione noticed. Theo no longer kept his distance and it had
been weeks since he last glared at her just for the sake of it. She didn’t know what had
changed but decided not to comment on it.
“Oh, please.” Draco sighed, “not him.” He groaned as Professor Lockhart could be seen
walking onto the stage. Professor Snape was behind him, he wasn’t looking particularly
excited, and his usual black robes only made Lockhart’s deep plum ones seem resplendent.
“Gather round, gather round!” Lockhart called from the top of the platform. “Can everyone
see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent!” He grinned and Hermione heard a few sighs.
“Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little duelling club, to
train you all in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I have done on countless
occasions,” he said and gave them an award-winning smile “for full details, see my published
works.” He finished with a wink. “Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape,” he said
and Blaise snorted.
“He may be a liar and a fake, but he has some balls, calling Snape an assistant.” He said and
Theo and Draco nodded.
Lockhart continued, “He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about duelling himself and has
sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin.” Snape beside him
was already fuming. “Now, I don’t want any of you youngsters to worry, you’ll still have
your Potions master when I’m through with him, never fear!”
There was a collective scoff around the Slytherins, Snape could have been the Herbology
teacher, and they’d all bet on him over Lockhart.
Lockhart and Snape turned to face each other and bowed. Lockhart, with much twirling of his
hands, and Snape barely jerked his head. “I’d be running away if he looked at me like that,”
Greg muttered.
“He looks at you like that.” Pansy sniggered.
The professors had just raised their wands like swords in front of them. “As you see, we are
holding our wands in the accepted combative position,” Lockhart told them. “On the count of
three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course.”
They counted and both of them swung their wands above their heads and pointed them at
their opponent. Professor Snape cast an Expelliarmus and had Lockhart blasted off his feet in
a second. All her friends cheered when he flew backwards off the stage, smashed into the
wall and slid down it to sprawl on the floor.
Hermione winced. “Do you think he’s all right?” She squealed through her fingers.
“I hope not,” Blaise said between laughter.
“Well, there you have it!” Lockhart said, tottering back onto the platform. His robes and hat
were askew. “That was a Disarming Charm. As you saw, I’ve lost my wand — ah, thank you,
Miss Brown” He said when the Gryffindor girl with fluttering eyelashes retrieved his wand
for him. “Yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don’t mind my
saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do.” Blaise snorted so loud Hermione
was afraid he had dislocated something. “If I had wanted to stop you it would have been only
too easy.”
“He has got to be kidding,” Theo muttered.
“—However, I felt it would be instructive to let them see—” he stopped mid-sentence,

Hermione looked around trying to see what had gotten his attention and saw Draco and the
other boys sniggering. Professor Snape was looking murderous. “Enough demonstrating!”
Lockhart said instead. “I’m going to come amongst you now and put you all into pairs.
Professor Snape, if you’d like to help me.”
They started with the Gryffindors, Hermione watched as Snape separated Harry and Ron,
putting Ron with Finnigan. Harry was almost next to her when Snape pulled on his cloak.
“Absolutely not,” Snape said with a hiss. “Draco, come here,” Snape said and Draco’s smirk
grew impossibly wider, he sauntered towards Harry.
“Oh boy.” Pansy groaned.
“This will be good,” Blaise said with a grin. Hermione wasn’t so sure.
Hermione ended up partnered with Marietta Edgecombe, a Ravenclaw in the third year, while
all her friends ended up together.
As the duels started, the great hall was filled with sparks of different colours flying all
around. She vaguely remembered Lockhart telling them to only disarm their opponent, but
she saw that wasn’t the case. Marietta cast a few hexes and Hermione managed to block all of
them. When the older girl realised she wouldn’t win against her with spells, she resorted to
name-calling. Hermione, used to that, simply cast a tickling charm on her and saw with wide
eyes as the girl jumped at Hermione, grabbing fists of her hair and pulling her in a headlock.
“You think you are better than everyone else! Your annoying know-it-all!” The Ravenclaw
shrieked.
“Hey!” Someone was calling, “Hey! Let go of her!” Hermione recognised Harry’s voice.
“Merlin’s tits what kind of animal are you?” That one was Blaise. He pulled Hermione away
and Hermione saw Harry, Draco and Theo pulling Marietta away. The girl was still throwing
words.
“You walk around with a snake up your ass!” She trashed against the three boys. Hermione
watched the scene with wide eyes. “You—You— insufferable swot!”
“Oh please, get lost!” Daphne snapped and with a wave of her wand, sealed the girl’s lips.
Snape arrived right at that moment. He glared at Daphne and everyone involved. He removed
the spell and with a scathing look, Marietta ran away.
“Let me remind you that spell is not acceptable.” He told Daphne.
“I forgot.” The girl said with a shrug.
“Dear, dear,” said Lockhart, who had just skittered through the crowd and saw that many
partners were in a similar situation. “I think I’d better teach you how to block unfriendly
spells,” Lockhart glanced at Snape, whose black eyes glinted in poorly concealed hatred.
“Let’s have a volunteer pair, Longbottom and Finch-Fletchley, how about you —”
Snape sighed and Hermione could swear he muttered a curse under his breath. “A bad idea,
Professor Lockhart,” he said and approached the other professor. “Longbottom causes
devastation with the simplest spells. We’ll be sending what’s left of Finch-Fletchley up to the
hospital wing in a matchbox.” He said, crass in every word. Poor Neville’s face went pink.
Snape looked around and seemed to find both Harry and Draco, who now were already back
at snarling at each other. Hermione wished she could have savoured the moment those two
were working together a minute longer. “How about Malfoy and Potter?” he suggested with a
twisted smile.
“Excellent idea!” Lockhart agreed, he seemed the only one to think so.
Hermione and her friends gathered around the platform, she knew they hadn’t played fair
before and doubted they would now with the entire school watching them.
Snape went over Draco and gave a few instructions to him while Lockhart fumbled around
Harry. This time, when Blaise muttered pathetic, Hermione thought he was somewhat right.
When the duel started, Draco was the first one to cast. “Serpensortia!”
Hermione gasped. A long black snake shot out of the end of his wand and fell onto the floor,
it was facing Harry, ready to strike. There were screams as the students in the front backed
swiftly away, clearing the floor.
“Don’t move, Potter,” Snape said, “I’ll get rid of it.”
“Allow me!” Shouted Lockhart and he pointed the wand at the snake. There was a bang and
instead of getting rid of the snake, he made it fly ten feet into the air, making more people
back away, in case it fell on them. Thankfully, it didn’t hit anyone, but the creature seemed
enraged with the treatment and began hissing furiously, slithering straight toward Justin
Finch-Fletchley.
Hermione closed her eyes, not wanting to see the boy being bitten, but as soon as she closed
them, she reopened them because Harry’s voice echoed around the room. He was hissing and
his eyes were focused on the snake. Everyone gasped around him, and Theo pulled Hermione
behind him by her wrist.
Harry could speak with snakes.
“What do you think you’re playing at?” Justin shouted. Hermione watched as Harry blinked
confusedly. Justin stormed out of the hall.
Snape moved at once and with a flick, made the snake vanish. Snape was looking at Harry
strangely and it unnerved Hermione.
Theo was still trying to pull Hermione behind him, and Hermione barely saw Ron tugging
Harry and pulling him out of the hall. The whispering that had begun when Harry spoke had
exploded now that Harry had left.
“Go back to your Common room.” Snape snarled and Hermione felt his eyes linger on her.
They all rushed to their dungeons; no doubt eager to gossip.
“Potter’s a Parselmouth!” Avery exclaimed, there was too much glee in his tone.
“That is fucking fantastic,” a student laughed, Hermione knew it was sarcastic. “Our hero is a
Parselmouth.”
“How can he be, though?” Pansy whispered. “It’s Salazar Slytherin’s trait.”
“Does that mean he’s the heir, then?” Daphne asked in a hushed voice.
Hermione turned to answer and only then realised that Theo’s hand was still around her wrist.
She also noticed that his eyes had returned to their turbulent shade of blue now. Something
twisted on her chest.
“Slytherin lived a thousand years ago, right? For all we know, it could be.” Hermione said,
her voice quiet. “but it doesn’t make sense, it’s not Harry behind these attacks.”
“We don’t know that.” Blaise snorted.
“I’m serious Blaise, he—” she stopped, remembering the day when he told them that he
heard a voice in the walls. “It’s not him.” She said instead, lamely.
By the next morning, the Common Room was so cold that no one seemed interested in
sleeping in and they were more than eager to leave for breakfast. There was so much snow
outside that all the windows were partially covered, and it was impossible to reach the
greenhouses or any other part of the grounds. But in the end, it didn’t matter much, because
no one wanted to go out anyway, especially when another student was found petrified
through the first period.
“He was right there!” The student walking in front of them was saying, “again, at the crime
scene!”
“It has got to be him!” The other said.
“But Headless Nick, though? Why would he attack a ghost?”
“Wasn’t he and Granger at the ghost’s party when the cat was attacked?” The boy asked and
turned behind him. “Oi, Granger! What happened at the ghost’s party?”
“Nothing happened.” Hermione hissed and sped up, bumping into them purposely. She heard
Theo and Blaise picking up their pace to follow her as she stormed inside the library.
She sat at their usual table, the one in the far back near tomes of Herbology books.
“Hermione,” Blaise called, his voice quiet. Well, the tone they were all supposed to be using
since they were in the library. “Do you want to go back with us? I don’t think it’s a good idea
for you to stay—”
“I will be fine, Blaise.” Hermione replied, “I know you don’t believe it, but it’s not him.”
Hermione said with a sigh. She found her life had been resumed in denying her friends’ part
on the attacks on both sides.
“I don’t care.” Blaise snapped. “He was the one to find the cat, Creevey was found outside
his window at the Hospital wing and now he was the one to find Flick-Fickolly—"
“Who?”
“—I don’t care if he’s the one attacking or not, I don’t want you to be next.”
His worry was welcoming, and Hermione felt herself warming with his words, but she knew
it wasn’t Harry and everything that was going on with him was a terrible coincidence.
“If it’s not Potter,” Theo began, “Someone is doing a hell of a job to frame him.”
Yes. Hermione thought. But, how could they? Who could know where Harry was all the time?
Just today, who knew that Harry was going to be in that corridor and find Justin? It didn’t
make sense.
But what about the stuff Snape had mentioned about having no control over it? It didn’t
match with what was happening. The attacks were being sporadic, giving them a sense of
security before throwing the castle back in an uproar, and—
“I can almost hear you thinking, Hermione,” Blaise said.
“Sorry,” she said, shaking her head. She would take the break to write down every
information she had. “I was trying to make sense of what’s happening.”
Blaise snorted and threw both legs on top of the desk, his left shoe resting too close to one of
the books. Hermione moved it away. “We had a cat petrified on Halloween, then we had the
Gryffindor who’s in the hospital wing. We should call him Creepy Creevey by the way, with
how he’s petrified with his hands like this—” he copied Creevey’s pose, making a face of
pure horror behind his mimicked camera. “Yesterday we found out that Potter can talk with
snakes and just this morning, because apparently, he thought there wasn’t enough news about
him, he found the Hufflepuff and the Gryffindor’s ghost petrified, almost in a domino line.
And it’s only December.” Blaise finished, holding up four fingers to them.
“Thank you, very succinct.” She said sarcastically and he grinned.
“I’m known as a raconteur.”
“You are ridiculous,” Theo said with a shake of his head.
They talked over their assignments, Blaise telling her what his mother had written him about
her new boyfriend and Hermione watched in bafflement as the two boys made their bets on
how long that relationship was going to last. Just as they were finishing up in the library,
Harry appeared, he was looking quite shaken.
“Hey, can I talk to you for a second?”
Blaise and Theo crossed their arms in front of their chests and put on their best glares. “Yeah,
sure.” She replied and Harry looked behind her, motioning for them to leave.
“Why? Want no witness this time?” Blaise asked, an eyebrow raised.
“Hermione?” He asked, ignoring Blaise.
“I will see the two of you back at the common room,” Hermione told the Slytherin boys.
“Alright.” Blaise said, “be careful.” He squeezed her arm and left with Theo, not before
sending another glare back to Harry.
Harry watched them leave for a moment. “Do you believe in me now?” she asked.
“I never thought it was them,” Harry replied. “And I never saw Malfoy do anything like that.
So, my opinion stands.”
Hermione sighed. “How are you?” She asked instead.

“Besides the fact that everyone thinks I’m the great-great-great-grandson of Salazar Slytherin
and that I’m attacking muggle-borns and anyone who comes in my way?” He snapped and
Hermione winced. “I’m sorry.”
“I had that coming.” She pulled him to sit next to her. “I think the potion will be ready in a
day or two.” She spoke. “Everyone is going back home. From our year only me, Draco,
Vince and Greg are staying. I already thought of what we can do to get the boys out of the
way for the hour the potion lasts. I just need to get it ready.”
“Speaking of those two, how did you manage to make their cauldron explode? I didn’t see
you throwing it at their cauldron.”
“I didn’t.” Hermione grinned. “I asked them to.” Harry’s eyes widened at that, “I told them
I’d give them my notes in exchange. They were more than willing to do it.”
Harry laughed, throwing back his head and everything, Hermione smiled. It was always nice
to see Harry grinning like that.
“I’ve been trying to find a pattern between the attacks and the only thing I could come up
with is—”
“Me,” Harry said, his face had closed off.
“You know I don’t think it’s you, Harry.” She said, “but Theo said something today and I
think he’s right. I think someone is trying very hard to blame you.”
“The only people that hate me in this place are Malfoy and Snape.” He said and Hermione
sighed.
“You didn’t see him, Harry.” Hermione told him, “Snape, I mean. I’ve never seen him so
angry. He threatened us all with Veritasserum if we knew anything and kept quiet. He called
two students to his office just because their fathers were in Hogwarts when the chamber was
last opened.”
“Malfoy has been looking quite sour today, almost like he’s angry everyone thinks it’s me,”
Harry told her.
“I haven’t spoken with him today. But anyway, we will be able to get this behind us in two
days. You will see, he doesn’t have anything to do with it.”
Harry sent her a look and Hermione felt uncomfortable under his gaze. “I hope you are
right.” He said, “for your sake.”
They talked a little bit more, putting the topic of the chamber aside for a moment. Harry told
her that Percy had held Ron and the twins hostage for scaring their younger sister with jokes
about Harry being the heir of Slytherin and Hermione rolled her eyes at them making fun of
something so serious. Harry also told her that he had seen Hagrid on his way to her and that
the groundkeeper was frustrated because roosters were being killed. When she asked him
about any strange voices on the walls, he said he hadn’t heard anything.
Blaise’s list was wrong, there was another strange thing happening that year because she read
for hours and the only thing she could find was: it was just as weird to hear voices in the
wizarding world as it was in the muggle world.
Harry went with her to her common room, and he had to deal with four Slytherins on the way
hissing what they believed to be parseltongue and another three asking if he was there to
change houses.
“Let’s meet tomorrow after breakfast.” Hermione said by the entrance, “the train will have
left, and the school will be empty.”
“We still need some of their hair,” Harry said.
“I can just pull at their head now and they won’t even blink.” Hermione shrugged.
When she crossed the entrance, the common room was quite chaotic, people were coming
and going, trunks were open around as they packed. A lot of people had decided to return
after the latest attack, and they were all packing at the last minute.
She spotted her friends in their preferred corner of the common room and none of them had
seen her, and she was surprised to hear what they were saying. “I don’t care if Potty and
Weaselbee are staying, you keep an eye on her, do you hear me?” Blaise was saying. “That
boy has all kinds of problem-vibes and weird shit happens around him. This is not something
she can risk getting herself dragged in it, Draco.”
“You are worse than my mother, you know that don’t you?”
“It has got to be you mate,” Theo said with a shrug. “No offence to you two,” Theo said to
Vince and Greg, “but you know.”
“Yeah, I know.” Greg shrugged and Vince nodded.
“But like honestly,” Pansy drawled, “I have no idea why she’s even friends with those
knuckleheads. They are bloody pathetic if you ask me.” Hermione rolled her eyes at that.
“They are not ashamed,” Daphne said. It was said so low that Hermione for a moment
thought she had misheard the blonde girl. But by watching the way everyone flinched at her
words, she knew she had heard it correctly. “Meals side by side don’t cut, not when he calls
her a mudblood in front of the entire Gryffindor team.” She said, pointing a finger to Draco,
“we may sit together in class and go with her everywhere, so she isn’t walking alone, but has
any of us actively spent time with her when it’s not down here or in that dusty Herbology
corner in the library where the only other student to ever sit there is Neville bloody
Longbottom?”
Hermione felt something pressing on her chest. It was the nagging voice in her head, the one
she had ignored all this time as she grasped at straws, overanalysing every small thing to
prove to herself they were her friends. It didn’t surprise her that the nagging voice came in
Daphne’s tone.
The blonde girl sighed, “I hate that she’s a muggle-born, I do.” Daphne said and Hermione’s
breath hitched. They finally noticed she was standing there and collectively widened their
eyes in surprise. Hermione saw six faces contorting and getting ready to explain themselves.
“Hermione—” Daphne started; voice filled with embarrassment. “That’s not—I wasn’t—”
If she hadn’t heard the other part, she would have come to the same conclusion they all
seemed to have made. “I know,” Hermione said. “I know what you meant.”
“We were not—” Blaise began, green eyes wide, the emeralds that filled their hourglass with
points had nothing compared to his eyes.
Her throat burned. “I know you were not.” She said, because that she knew. She had heard it
all. But still, she knew now, irrevocably, that they couldn’t openly be her friend because of
her blood. It was fine to talk to her, to spend time together, as long as no one else knew. And
that hurt. Daphne was right. Yes, they threw her a surprise party, but in the safe space that
these walls provided them and when Draco called her a mudblood in front of a lot of people,
not a single one of them had said anything, they all pretended it didn’t happen.
Hermione couldn’t hold back a snort. Just two days ago, she had thought of how Theo was
warming up to her, initiating conversations, touching her, as if she had some kind of disease
that kept him from doing so. Merlin, she had thrived over the fact he didn’t glare at her
anymore. But she forgot to realise he only did all that when it was only the two of them.
“We were talking about—” Blaise tried again and Hermione cut him off.
“I already said that I know you weren’t. It’s fine.” She said and shrugged, just like she had
seen Pansy do countless times, pretending it didn’t affect her. “It’s just like my father says,
you can’t teach a new trick to an old dog.” She said with a shrug. But she hoped, that their
doctrines weren’t so set in steal that she wouldn’t always feel like a nasty surprise, just as that
student had said over the beginning of the term feast. “I’ll be going to bed, I will see you
guys off before the train leaves, alright?”
She didn’t wait for them to reply, Hermione nodded to herself and went to her dormitory. A
part of her felt that it wasn’t fair to let them believe she had only heard the last bit, to not let
them explain themselves. But the part that felt hurt thinking that everything she had with
Harry, she couldn’t have with them just because of her blood, made her want to make them
hurt a little too.
Hermione was only thirteen, but she had been bullied throughout her school life. First by
muggle boys and girls, calling her weird and a freak, making fun of her for her hair, her teeth
and her preference for books. Those kinds of bullies, she knew how to deal with. She knew
how to ignore and wanted nothing more but to keep her distance. She hadn’t associated them
to what she had here in Hogwarts, because she had never had bullies that smiled at her or
held her hand. Maybe it wasn’t fair to call them bullies, but Hermione didn’t know another
name for people that made her feel less about herself for something that she couldn’t change.
She hoped that maybe they’d change, now that they thought she believed they were ashamed
of her.
On the next morning, she went with them to the carriages and wished them all a Merry
Christmas. Blaise was still looking uncomfortable with what had happened the night before.
Hermione chuckled and went to him. Hermione placed a hand on each cheek and saw him
widening those green eyes of his. “I heard the entire conversation.” She said, “I know exactly
what you guys meant.”
He let out a sigh and Hermione felt it on her face. “You could have said that yesterday.” He
grumbled.
Hermione smirked. “And not having all of you feeling bad for your bullshit?” She asked with
a grin, “I didn’t think so.”
Pansy huffed. The raven-haired girl flung her hair back and marched towards Hermione.
Pansy had a serious expression on her face and Hermione thought she was about to get hexed
but instead was surprised with a hug. This time it was Hermione who huffed.
When Pansy pulled away, she looked around, saw that a few people were looking and
announced: “Feel free to write to Parkinson Estate that I have hugged my muggle-born best
friend.” Theo and Daphne looked away, both taking steps away from Pansy and her newest
show. People were still looking. “And if you do, enjoy your Christmas because I will hex all
of your asses once we return.” The group closest to them scattered after the Slytherin’s glare.
“No offence to you,” she told Hermione. “But my dad might hex me.”
Hermione chuckled and with a shake of her head, watched them go.
pitch black, pale blue

there was a stained glass, variation of the truth
Christmas eve, 1992.
“Severus,” Remus greeted with a grimace. Still not welcomed, then.
“Bad time?”
Remus snorted and made space for him to enter. “I hate your sense of humour.”
“Thanks,” Severus replied and took off his cloak. “Why is so warm in here?”
“Because I’m always cold, especially as it gets closer to the full moon.” Remus sat down on
his armchair, picked the book on the arm and reopened, clearly, he didn’t have any intention
of hosting tonight. It was Severus fault actually because he didn’t announce that he was
coming.
Severus wasn’t also sure why he decided to visit the man, it was not like they were friends,
Merlin no. But it was Christmas, and Severus was certain that Narcissa might not appreciate
it if he and Lucius ended up throwing punches over the Christmas feast.
And yes, Remus had been right that day. His friend-list began and ended with the Malfoys
and Severus felt it was too pathetic to spend Christmas alone. He had seen Hermione
laughing with Draco and the other two boys over the Slytherin table, he knew she was happy
and tomorrow morning she’d have a birthday present from him under the tree and it was
enough, for now, it was enough.
Severus saw the firewhiskey sitting on the floor and helped himself, “Hermione stole from
me the other day.”
Remus grinned, his face still on his book. “What did she steal?”
“Shredded skin of boomslang.”
Remus’ brow furrowed. “Why does she need that? I don’t even remember using that
ingredient in Hogwarts.”
Severus frowned. “Exactly.” He sighed. “Which leads me to believe she’s brewing something
she shouldn’t and there aren’t many potions where these ingredients are needed.” There were
two in fact. Polyjuice and Beautification Potion. Severus had yet to decide which option was
worse.
Remus shook his head, amusedly. “Did you reprimand her for stealing? Grounded her?”
“She doesn’t know I know.” He said, “she’s becoming quite the mastermind. Got her
fingertips all over but nothing to connect it to her.”
Remus tilted his head to the side. “You know there’s a saying, don’t you?” He asked, “about
the Malfoys. You will never catch one at the scene, but their fingerprints will be all over the
weapon.”
“I’m aware of it, yes,” Severus said.
“It’s all that time she spends under that roof.” Remus shrugged. “How did she do it? Is she
better than the Marauders?”
Severus glared. “Her brother was on it, obviously. He got Filibuster fireworks from the
Weasleys twins and smuggled two to her. She then gave them to Crabbe and Goyle and
convinced them to take part and purposefully ruin their potions to cause a distraction. Potter
somehow managed to get his firework in Finnigan’s cauldron.” He snarled, remembering the
time it took to remove everything from the students. “Three cauldrons exploded, ten students
with swollen heads and hands and my classroom reeked of Swelling Potion the entire day.”
“Brilliant.” Severus only scowled. Remus stayed quiet for a moment longer and Severus saw
the hollowness beneath the man’s eyes match his entire expression. “Tell me,” Remus said,
voice sombre. “Is it true? The Chamber has been opened?”
“Yes,” Severus replied. “How did you know?” He knew Dumbledore hadn’t told anyone, to
not raise any alarms.
“I usually spend my full moons at the Forbidden Forest, I heard the centaurs talking.”
Severus nodded. “There have been three attacks so far. A muggle-born in Gryffindor, one in
Hufflepuff and Filch’s hell of a cat. They are all petrified.”
“Any clues on who’s behind the attacks?”
“Not exactly. Lucius had a book with the instructions to open it and somehow, he got that
inside the castle. We don’t know who has it now.”
“Still on his shit, then?” Remus snarled. “Does Dumbledore know?”
“Yes.”
“Hermione is not at risk, is she?”
“I’m not certain. We don’t know what’s inside the chamber that is attacking the students. If
the creature can smell muggle-borns—”
“That’s bullshit,” Remus scoffed.
“She isn’t in danger, but if the creature is following orders, then she is at risk.” Severus
finished.
“There is no such thing as being able to smell muggle-borns, there is no difference,” Remus
said, closing his book with a snap. “The myths said only the heir of Slytherin could control
the creature inside the chamber.”
“Yes.”
“Who is it, then? Which of the sacred twenty-eight families have antecessors that go back—”
Remus stopped, his eyes grew wide. This close to a full moon, there was a wolfish glint in
them. “They don’t think it’s Harry, do they?”
“He can speak with snakes.” Severus said, “frightened the entire the school talking with one
at the beginning of December.”
“Harry is a Parselmouth?” Remus asked, “James wasn’t—it’s not Harry behind the attacks,
he wouldn’t do anything like that.”
“It’s not him,” Severus surprised even himself by saying. “He has extremely bad luck though
because everyone attacked so far had something to do with him.” he said, “But it’s not him. I
checked.”
“You should allow people the privacy of their mind.”
“I do, usually.” Severus gritted. “But not when Hermione’s safety is at risk. And it’s not like I
read every single thought of that boy’s head, Merlin knows I have no time for that.”
Remus didn’t look impressed, and Severus couldn’t care less about the man’s opinion. He
was looking inside the mind of every student who gave Hermione a wrong look and Merlin,
there were many.
“Even if I didn’t know that neither the Blacks nor the Malfoys have antecessors going back to
Salazar Slytherin, I know Lucius wouldn’t use his son. Which makes me believe that
whoever is behind these attacks doesn’t know what they are doing.” Severus furrowed his
brows in thought. “Lucius doesn’t own a single thing that hasn’t got dark art in it. A book that
has instructions to open the Chamber of Secrets? Yeah, not suspicious at all. Last year
Voldemort possessed Quirrell, what if it’s the same thing?”
“What, Voldemort has possessed a book?”
“Don’t be purposely obtuse, it’s annoying.” Remus snapped, “What if the book is sentient?
Like the Sorting Hat.”
“The Sorting Hat can talk people into things if it wants to.”
“Lesser minds, yes. I’d say it can go as far as possess them if the hat were inclined to evil
deeds.”
“It’s safe to assume that the diary of Lord Voldemort might have a certain appreciation for the
dark arts.”
“That’s what Lucius had? Godrics, how is he not in Azkaban?” Remus asked and glared at
Severus when he was about to reply. “Don’t.” Remus hissed. Severus smirked, Lucius wasn’t
caught with over a dozen dead muggles and the small finger of his best friend. By Remus’
murderous expression, he knew that as well. “Anyway,” he said after a long sigh. “A book is
something small and personal, people bring them inside the trunks. Has Lucius been going
through kids’ trunks in his spare time?”
“No,” Severus said cautiously. “Narcissa had most of the kids in Hermione’s year over at the
manor this summer. Putting a book inside their trunks would be a direct link to the Malfoys,
he’s not stupid.” He concluded.
Remus was about to say something more then, but a pearly white cat had suddenly swooped
in the room. Severus tensed at the sight of Minerva’s Patronus.
“I’m sorry to interrupt your Christmas evening Severus, but I’m afraid we have a situation
with Miss Granger at the Hospital Wing.” The cat said in Minerva’s usual terse tone.
Severus jumped to his feet; Remus did the same. “Let me go with you.”
“Are you insane? They’d know at once.” Severus snarled.
“Write to me.” Remus said then, “send me a Patronus as soon as you can, Severus.”
“Alright.” He replied, already getting ready to Apparate. The last thing he heard before
arriving at the outskirts of Hogsmeade was Remus mutter of I didn’t even know it was
Christmas.
He stalked straight to the hospital wing, where he met with the sight of Potter and Weasley
sat heads bowed in front of a bed with—Salazar’s beard.
“Severus,” Minerva said, her expression tight, “thank you for coming so quickly.”
Hermione was covered in cat fur: her face had whiskers for merlin’s sake, he could see the
tips of cat ears hidden by her hair and there was also a tail swishing from side to side, her
eyes had turned yellow.
Severus had to hold onto a bed. “What’s the meaning of this?” he asked, already glaring at
the Gryffindor’s boys.
“Miss Granger thought it was a good idea to brew Polyjuice Potion on her own!” Minerva
said, her voice almost a shriek.
Madam Pomfrey was beside Hermione, setting half a dozen of vials on the girl’s bedside
table. “Her potion was perfect,” the matron said, Severus noticed Minerva glaring at Pomfrey
for that comment. “With the only problem that Miss Granger used cat hair instead and the
potion is not supposed to be used for animal transformation.”
Potter and Weasley were still with their heads bowed. Severus furrowed his brows. “And
what about them?”
“Mr Potter and Weasley brought Miss Granger,” Minerva said. “They found her in the
bathroom, they said.”
Neither boy raised their head and Severus couldn’t catch any glimpses of the lie. He sighed
and turned to Pomfrey. “How long until she returns to normal?”
It was Pomfrey who sighed this time, “It might take a while. A month at least, until all of it
disappears.”
At that, Hermione’s whiskered nose trembled, even in cat form, Severus recognised the
telltales of crying.
“I will have Mr Zabini and Miss Parkinson bring their homework and notes. I’m certain you
won’t have problems once the classes resume.” He said and the girl nodded.
“Since Miss Granger is under your house and therefore your responsibility—” talk about
responsibility, “I will leave it to you to decide how many points to take from this.” Severus
turned to Minerva and raised an eyebrow in question. “Well, the instructions to the Polyjuice
potion are not in Potions and Ingredients grade two, Severus,” Minerva stated the obvious. “I
will leave it to you.” She said and motioned for her students to follow her. “Straight to the
common room with you two.”
Severus waited for Minerva to leave with them. Pomfrey noticed him glaring and quickly left
for her private quarters. Hermione gulped.
“I’ll have the truth now, Miss Granger.” He said.
“It’s the truth,” Hermione mumbled. “I thought I had Mili’s hair, but it was her cat’s and—”
“Why would you want to become Millicent Bulstrode?”

“I just wanted a hair. I read about the potion and—” she looked down. “I wanted to see if I
could brew it. It seemed complicated and—” Merlin. Just like Lily. And him.
Severus had seen enough of Lily in Hermione so far, he was always looking for it, but he had
yet to see traits that she might have taken from him. But this? This arrogance was all his.
“The instructions for the potion are in a book in the restricted session.” He said. “How did
you get in there?” if Hermione said anything about Potter’s cloak, he was going to have a
serious conversation with Dumbledore about it.
“Lockhart signed it.” She mumbled. That was worse, he thought.
“He signed the slip allowing you to read Moste Potent Potions?”
“He didn’t even read it,” Hermione said, voice barely louder than a whisper. “I said I wanted
some background reading for Gadding with Ghouls. He didn’t even glance at the paper after
that.”
Severus could swear he heard Remus’ laughter in his ear. He glared. It wasn’t exactly at her,
but Lockhart wasn’t there to receive it. “And after checking the ingredients list, you saw that
you had to steal shredded skin of boomslang from my cupboard.” Hermione’s yellow eyes
widened at that. “Next time you decide to steal something—” he started with a sneer, “try to
pick something that is commonly used. There are only two potions in which this ingredient is
used.”
“I’m sorry.” She said, Severus, noticed her cat ears twitching.
“I know Potter helped you that day.” He said, “which leads to another problem that is: you
lied about them finding you in the bathroom. Now, Miss Granger, I will ask again, why the
three of you decided to brew a Polyjuice potion?”
“Professor—” Hermione started, her voice was trembling.
“You broke so many rules that I don’t even know from where to start punishing you.” He said
and she gulped. “Tell me, now.”
“Harry thinks it’s Draco. The one behind the attacks.” She blurted. Severus waited, his face a
permanent frown. “I told him, countless times that it’s not him, but he wouldn’t believe me.
He said I wouldn’t know because I’m muggle-born and they wouldn’t tell me anything. He
wanted to be sure and maybe ask other Slytherins about it. I—” she stopped, she had yet to
look at his face, her furry hands were much more interesting. “I got Harry and Ron hair from
Vince and Greg and I got Milli’s hair—well, I thought it was hers,” she said annoyedly. “We
were to sneak inside the common room—”
“Miss Granger, you don’t need to sneak inside your own common room.”
“I know.” Hermione snapped and he raised a single eyebrow at that. She quickly curved
around herself. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, “but I had brewed the potion, I had done
everything on my own. I wanted to see what it was like. To experience the transformation, I
just—” she sighed. “I should have been more careful when I found a hair on her pillow, I
decided at last minute that I wanted to drink it as well and—”
“You shouldn’t have done it at all, to begin with.”
“They wouldn’t believe me!” She said, “and I wanted to see if Draco or any of the others had
something to say if I wasn’t present. If they really weren’t telling me everything because I am
muggle-born.”
“And did they, now?”
“I don’t know. I couldn’t ask them. When they returned from the common room after the
hour was gone, they saw me and brought me straight here.”
Severus sighed. “How did you convince Mr Crabbe and Mr Goyle to stay out for your little
deception?”
“I didn’t.” She mumbled. “I stayed behind with them for dinner and then when we were
returning, I offered them chocolate cakes dosed with Sleeping Draught.” The gift that keeps
on giving, Severus thought. “After they collapsed, I hid them in the broom closet outside the
Great Hall. They are still there if Professor McGonagall took Harry and Ron straight to their
common room.
“Are they dressed?” He asked, “or did you steal their uniforms as well?”
She had the nerve to say: “Of course, not. I grabbed spares from their trunks at their
dormitory.” And there lay the proof that the magic that kept boys from going to the girl’s
dormitory was simply ridiculous when girls had free rein.
“You realise, don’t you? The number of rules you broke for this endeavour?” He asked his
voice pure ice. “You tricked a teacher, made a mess of a class while you stole from another,
you drugged two of your friends, hid them in a cupboard, allowed two outsiders inside the
Slytherin common room for the first time ever.” He counted off, “not to mention the risks of
brewing Polyjuice wrong—”
“I brewed it perfectly,” she retorted, there was an offence in her tone. Severus had to control
the urge to roll his eyes. Among everything, that was what she decided to retort. “And the
Sleeping Draught was simple enough. I had done it before during our potions study club.” Oh
yes, the study club for the fifth years.
“Do you want me to reward you with points?” He asked, he was trying very hard to control
his tone. He was livid.
“You could put everything in an equation.” She offered and Severus blinked at that.
“Thirty points from Slytherin.” He barked. “It’s not funny. There’s a creature attacking
students around the castle, how am I supposed to keep you safe if you are roaming around
looking like Millicent Bulstrode?” he snapped. “Not only that, if something had gone wrong,
from exploding cauldrons and brewing potions that a thirteen-year-old had no business in
brewing! You put your life, Potter’s, Weasley's, Crabbe’s and Goyle’s at risk.”
“I’m sorry,” Hermione mumbled, her chin was shaking.
“I’m not putting you in detention because I believe not being able to attend classes for a
month is punishment enough for you.” Her only response was to nod. “Miss Granger, this is
not the first time you and your friends decide to take matters into your own hands. Let it not
have a third.” She nodded again and he turned to leave.
“It was Dobby who sealed off the train passage and bewitched the Bludger.” She said once he
was almost at the door. He stopped. “I didn’t tell Harry who Dobby belongs to.” Severus
tensed and he worked his jaw. That was why Dobby had looked like that.
He turned. “Why haven’t you?”
“Because he was already blaming Draco for it,” Hermione said. “Draco has nothing to do
with it.”
“No, he doesn’t.”
“Can’t you stop it, professor?” She asked him, those yellow eyes huge on her cat-face.
“I don’t know who’s behind it.” He confessed.
When he saw the disappointment in her eyes, he left. Cat eyes or not, it hit too close.
When Hermione woke up the next morning, Draco was perched on her bed. On his lap was a
tray of eggs and toast. Over the bed, around her, there were a few presents.
She blushed, even though she doubted it showed on her face. Of all people, Draco seeing her
here was the worst. “What are you doing here?” She asked and pulled her blanket over her
head.
He chuckled. “I’ve already seen it, you know. I’ve been here for ten minutes waiting for you
to wake up.”
“How did you know?”
“I didn’t see you during breakfast and went to ask Uncle.” He said and Hermione felt him
tugging on her blanket. “I brought you food. Madam Pomfrey said you could eat this.”
She let the blanket fall and eyed the food he offered. “Thank you.”
“He told me what happened,” Draco said, there was a slight edge on his voice. “The
Polyjuice. Vince and Greg weren’t really Vince and Greg.” Hermione bit on her toast to keep
from answering. “Have you talked with Potter or Weasley?” Draco asked, he was fiddling
with his scarf.
“No. Why?”
“Nothing.” He said, “I should’ve known. Greg never asked that many questions.” Hermione
rolled her eyes at that.
“Do they know I put a sleeping draught on their food and hid them in a broom closet?” She
asked a small smirk on her lips.
“No.” Draco snorted and properly sat on the bed, moving a few of the presents before resting
his back on the footboard and his legs on the bed. He had the good sense of removing his
shoes. “I was already sleeping, but Uncle brought them back still unconscious. I think they
probably woke in their beds and went back to sleep afterwards.”
“Good.”
He nudged the presents with his knee, “I brought all of yours. Mother sent you something.”
Hermione grinned and began opening her presents. From her friends, she got a Never-Ending
Quill from Blaise, a small beaded bag from Pansy, a book on rare dark creatures from Theo, a
box of Chocolate Frogs from Milli, Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans from Vince and Greg, a
portrait with a picture of the ten of them from Daphne and Draco got her a luxury eagle
feather quill. She handed him the portrait, showing him the picture. It had been taken at
Malfoy Manor during the Yule Ball, she had forgotten how pretty she was in her dress.
Narcissa had given her a journal and a Revealer, that looked like an eraser and could reveal
anything written in invisible ink. The remaining present didn’t have a name on it, but she
opened it and found an old edition of Potions for Gifted Witches, it was a used book because
she found a drawing of a flower on the first page, Hermione thought it looked like a lily.
Draco spent the rest of the morning with her and at some point, she found herself inclining
her head so he could touch her cat ear. They giggled and Draco lost it when she showed him
her tail. “Merlin Hermione, you look ridiculous.”
She kicked his thigh with her feet and he almost fell trying to avoid it. “It’s your fault.” She
said, he raised a white-blond eyebrow at her, his expression told her he knew she was about
to say something ridiculous. “If you weren’t an ass, people wouldn’t think it was you
attacking other students and then I wouldn’t have to be extremely brilliant and brew a sixth-
year potion.”
Draco snorted. “How did that end up for you?”
“Shut up, you couldn’t recognise Harry and Ron.” She said, laughing.
Draco’s expression closed off and he looked away, clenching his jaw. “No, I didn’t.” He said.
It took Harry and Ron coming to visit her that evening after Draco had left, for her to
understand. Her throat constricted and something twisted on her chest as she heard Harry
telling her everything that Draco had said when he thought they were Vince and Greg.
Jumped-up Mudblood, Draco had called her. She knew the boys weren’t lying, not when
Harry was the most honest person she had ever met and the anger in his eyes told her enough.
“He doesn’t know anything about it, just like you said.” Harry told her, but his green eyes
were hard on her. “but he said he wished he knew, so he could help them.” Hermione’s breath
hitched.
But it was Ron who delivered the last blow. “He said that last time someone died,” Ron said,
he didn’t have the same caution on his voice as Harry’s. “He said it’s a matter of time before
someone died again and that he hoped it was you.”
She felt her eyes filling with tears. How could he be such a deceiving piece of shit? He had
laughed with her just this morning when last night he told who he thought it was Vince and
Greg, that he wished her dead.
Dead.
Inbred hatred she understood. It wasn’t an excuse, but she understood. Lucius was evil and
willing to clean the school from people like her. She was certain he’d have the support of
dozens of parents. But Theo, Theo who had the father that everyone was afraid of, had
defended her and showed himself worried about her. Pansy for all her meanness, had said to
hell with what her father said and hugged her in front of a group of students. What had she
done that Draco wished her dead? And what would the real Greg and Vince have said after
hearing that?
Harry had been right. Draco had never shown that he cared and Hermione had held
desperately for their time together at the manor when in reality, the only thing that proved
was that Daphne was right: he was ashamed.
She felt Harry squeezing her hand and she found him looking at her with the same worried
eyes from when he told her he hoped she was right, for her sake. She understood him now. “I
know whose family Dobby belongs to, Harry.” She said. Someone who wished her death
didn’t deserve her protection.
“What?”
“Yeah,” she said, her voice low, “I met him last Christmas and then again this summer.”
“You knew? This whole time, you knew?”
“You were thinking it was Draco.” Hermione said tiredly, “This whole time, you’ve been
blaming him. I was trying to get more information before I told you, there are a few things
that I heard from Draco in the Manor that I think might have to do with what’s happening,
but I wasn’t sure and I wanted to be sure before telling you anything.” She said and he
squeezed her hand again.
“What’s it?”
“I think it’s Lucius.” She said, voice barely louder than a whisper. She didn’t bother looking
at Ron. It was Harry who deserved this piece of information. “Draco told me during summer
that he heard his father arguing with someone about something, he couldn’t catch a lot of
things, but he told me Lucius wanted to do something that could be dangerous and
unpredictable.” She told him, making sure to keep Professor Snape’s name out of the story.
Harry was already looking at her eagerly. “And during the entire time I was there, Lucius was
mostly absent and when we asked why Draco was staying for Christmas this year, he told us
that’s because his mother and father are at odds and he doesn’t want to be there to hear them
fight. Dobby is Lucius’ elf, it makes sense that he would know whatever Lucius was
planning, he’s with Draco’s father all the time.”
“But how can Lucius be behind the attacks if he’s not here?” He asked, “Malfoy clearly
doesn’t know.”
“I don’t know.” She said. “That’s why I think the person that was arguing with Lucius said it
was unpredictable. Because they don’t have control over it.”
“So, you think he just opened the chamber, and the creature is out somewhere in the castle
without a master? Someonewrote something on the wall, Hermione.”
“I know.” She stressed. “That’s what I can’t figure out.
Harry and Ron left shortly before dinner and Hermione took a long breath afterwards. She
didn’t allow herself to cry.
Hermione was waiting for Draco the next morning, so she saw him looking around the
hospital wing for what Hermione now knew was Harry's or Ron’s presence before coming up
to her. She gulped when she saw the tray of food he had with him, a slice of the cake Narcissa
always sent him was there. He grinned at her when he sat on her bead and Hermione felt her
eyes tearing already.
Draco saw it too. He stopped his movements and tensed.
“Were you going to tell me?” She asked, her voice already shaky.
“What?” He asked and popped a tart inside his mouth.
“Yesterday when you came and asked if I had talked with Harry and Ron.” She said and she
noticed his jaw twitch. She fought the urge to snort, his pointy features were exaggerated by
the way he sat overly straight. Hermione noticed this was another telltale of him: to resort to
his simpering Malfoy grandness when confronted. She hated that she knew. “You were trying
to find out whether I knew that you wished to help whoever is behind the attacks and that you
wished I would be the fatal victim of these attacks.”
It felt like a slap. The way his entire body recoiled and the nerve on his jawline twitched.
“Hermione—”
“I broke dozens of rules to try to prove to them that you weren’t behind the attacks because
you wouldn’t do something like that.” She snapped. “Imagine,” she chuckled, there was only
animosity in the sound, “finding out that while I was going out of my way to defend you, you
were laughing with Vince and Greg, hoping on my death.”
“I didn’t ask you to defend me,” he said, voice too cruel for a twelve-year-old. She threw the
scones at him.
“What else do you say when I’m not around, Draco?” She asked, her voice trembling with all
the hurt and anger swirling inside of her.
“You don’t understand—”
She cut him off. “No, I don’t.”
“My father—”
“I know exactly what kind of person your father is.” She snapped. “Why do you hate me so
much because of my blood?”
“I don’t hate you—”
“Bullshit!” She cried, and she felt the hot tears on her furry face. “You keep saying it. That
word.” She said, “if it weren’t for you, I would still not know what it meant. You are the only
one to use it. The only one. I’ve been—” she stopped, her voice getting caught in her throat.
“I was your friend. I defended you.” She whispered and wiped her eyes with the back of her
hands. “I’m done.” She said.
“Hermione—”
“Leave, please.” She said and turned away, not wanting to face him any longer. “I am not
someone for you to be ashamed of.”
Hermione refused to look at him again, so she didn’t see his expression when he got up from
her bed and left the hospital wing.
He didn’t come again, not once after she sent him away, neither Vince nor Greg did.
Hermione thought it was poison, filling her head with what they might be talking about in the
common room if they were glad to be finally rid of her, to stop with the show.
Harry and Ron came every evening though, and they talked a bit before dinner. Once Harry
came on his own, it was way past curfew, and he had his cloak under his arm.
“What’s wrong?” She mumbled, she had already fallen asleep.
“I don’t know.” He said and without even asking, made space for himself on her bed. “I don’t
know if it was a memory or a nightmare.” He said and pressed two fingers on his scar. “It’s
hurting.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”

“The last time it hurt was when I faced Voldemort in the back of Quirrel’s head. It hurts when
I’m near him.”
“Do you think he’s here?”
“No, I think I saw him in my nightmare or memory.” He shuffled on the bed. “I think I saw
her too.” He said, this time his voice was much quieter.
“Who?”
“My sister.” He said. “We were on the same crib and she had her arms around me, I saw a
flash of green and then I woke up.” Hermione could picture the scene with strange clarity.
“Do you think it’s a memory?”
“You are smarter than me, don’t they say we don’t make memories until later?”
“Yes, scientists say we start retaining memory at two. But neurones start growing around nine
months, so yeah, before that it’s out of sight, out of mind. But after—” she shrugged, “it’s not
certain and there are many studies with many different results, but since it came in a dream,
dreams are unconscious and maybe what you dreamt was an unconscious emotional
memory.”
“How do you even know these things?”
She still had a few hairs on her face that kept Harry from noticing her blush. “When
Professor McGonagall came to tell me and my parents that I was a witch, I noticed she was
curious about me. She said she hadn’t seen a child with such control over their magic in
years. She kept asking questions such as if I remembered any strange person coming up to
me asking about me. I didn’t and my parents also didn’t. But it left me thinking if there might
have been something and I forgot, so I went to the public library after that and read about
memory and child development.”
Harry shook his head amusedly, “only you.” He chuckled, “when Hagrid told me, the only
thing I was worried about was how soon I could leave my aunt and uncle’s house.”
Chapter End Notes
Well, there we go. Draco reached his peak with his nastiness and Hermione is finally
done giving excuses for his behaviour. When I began writing this story, I always saw
Chamber of Secrets as a turning point in the relationships between the Slytherin. The
very first experience they have with what it means to have a "muggle-born" in their
midst and the weight of their words and choices. Pansy has made her mind, let's see how
long it will take for Theo and Draco to do the same.
I love to hear your thoughts, so please don't be shy!

The title of the chapter and quotes belong to Neptune, by Sleeping at Last
a stained glass, variation of the truth
Chapter Notes
Hi!! As always, your reaction has been amazing!! thank you so much for all the lovely
comments!
Excerpts were taken from Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, they don't belong to
me, they belong to the original author.
Stitch by stitch, I tear apart

If brokenness is a form of art
I must be a poster child prodigy
Chapter Eleven
January, 1993. Hogwarts
Her bed was covered with parchments and books, Madam Pomfrey had been kind enough to
enlarge it to fit Blaise and Theo as well, Hermione knew it had more to do with the matron’s
pity for overhearing Hermione’s and Draco’s fallout than mere kindness. But the woman
hadn’t commented on it, for which Hermione was thankful.
Around her bed was the curtain, magically placed so the gaggle of curious students couldn’t
spy on her furry problem, but she knew there were many rumours around the castle about her
situation. They were now two weeks into January and everything was almost gone now, only
her cat-ears and the yellow eyes remained.
The two boys and the girls came to visit her as soon as the carriages arrived, as she wasn’t
there to greet them. Hermione told them everything and even found herself laughing when
they made fun of her for being more upset about missing classes than the whole cat situation.
Vince came once, asking for help on a transfiguration assignment and Hermione pretended to
be sick so Madam Pomfrey would shoo him away. She couldn’t help him, not when the only
thing that she could think of was if he’d laugh and agree with wishing her dead. Hermione
knew Draco hadn’t told the two – or everyone else – about what had happened, because they
were treating her the same and updating her on what was happening outside the hospital wing
and more often than not, they’d bring news of Draco and Harry provoking each other in
corridors and having to pull the two apart.
“It’s like you are their self-control,” Blaise said with a grimace. He had a quill perched on his
ear and was balancing the ink bottle on his knees. Hermione was paying more attention to the
ink on his knee than on what he’s saying. “Now that neither of them has you between them,
they are going at each other throats at every given chance.”
Hermione only hummed in acknowledgement; she didn’t want to talk about Draco.
“It’s pathetic,” was Theo’s input. He removed the ink bottle from Blaise’s knee and put it
aside. Hermione felt herself smiling with the way those two always seemed attuned to each
other. “Not to mention unbecoming. I feel like a muggle, having to pry them apart with my
hands.” He said with a fake shudder.
“I’m certain it must be tiring having to cast smoothing charms all the time on your uniform,”
Hermione said sarcastically.
“I knew you would understand me,” Theo replied, equally sarcastic. She gave him a kick and
he grabbed her socked toe, pinching it slightly. “Let’s not get violent.” He said and placed her
foot on his lap, resting his hand around her calf.
She sniffed, she had been doing it a lot because of all the cat hair that neither boy thought
twice of it, but she knew it wasn’t because of facial hair, but due to Theo’s small gesture.
Hermione knew better by now; she’d wait for when she left the hospital wing before
believing Theo had a complete change of behaviour.
...
Thankfully, her discharge came three days later, she was already restless and annoyed with
how many classes she had missed and not even Theo’s notes were good enough for her.
There was one person who might have notes that she found worthwhile, but she didn’t want
anything from him.
When Hermione opened the doors of the hospital wing, Pansy and Daphne were there to
greet her. “Much better.” Pansy said upon inspection, “all that fur didn’t suit you at all.”
Hermione chuckled. “I can’t wait to go to class again.” She said and Pansy groaned and
rolled her eyes, pulling Hermione by the arm and linking their arms around the elbows.
“I almost forgot what a nerd you are,” Pansy said with a shake of her head. Daphne giggled
and linked her arm with Hermione’s other side.
“Ravenclaw is catching up behind us,” Daphne told her. “We need you back immediately.”
She said and Hermione felt Pansy tensing next to her when a group of Gryffindor passed
them. It was small, barely there, and for a second, Hermione thought Pansy was going to pull
away.
“I’m glad that you are back,” Pansy said instead, loudly, her green eyes intent on the
Gryffindors, “Milli and Tracy are fine,” Pansy said with a long-suffering sigh, “but I much
prefer our trio.”
Our trio.
“We should call ourselves the Silver Trio,” Daphne suggested and shook her wrist in front of
them, where the bracelet Hermione gave her rested. “I’m going to ask mother to get us a
matching charm.”
“You are not creative Daph,” Pansy told the blond girl. “They call Granger and the
dunderheads the Golden Trio, it looks like we are copying them.” She shuddered, “and a
cheaper copy at that because gold is worth more.”
“They do?”
“Of course, Granger, everyone knows that gold—”
“Not that,” Hermione cut her off, “they call us Golden Trio?”
“Yes.” Pansy replied annoyedly, “which I find extremely offensive. Because there’s nothing
golden in you, thank you very much.”
“You’d look terrible with all that red and gold.” Daphne agreed.
They reached the Potion classroom like that, with arms linked and talking about names. Only
the Slytherins were present, and she found him first. He was talking to Blaise and Theo and
stilled when their eyes met. It had been a little over a month since their last encounter and if
Hermione was expecting to see any trace of regret on his face, she would have been
disappointed.
“Hello stranger,” Blaise greeted, “I thought you were going to give us a chance on becoming
the student of the year.”
She heard a scoff coming from the corner and when they looked, they found Professor Snape
on the threshold. His only acknowledgement of her person was a nod. The Professor turned
to Blaise, “Even without attending classes her assignments were better than yours Mr
Zabini.” He told the boy. Hermione knew that this kind of comment would have resulted in
jeers from the Gryffindors, and the only reason Snape had said it at all was that none of them
had arrived yet, they always were the last ones to arrive, trying to stay away from the
dungeons for as long as they could.
Theo sniggered and Pansy flicked her hair over her shoulder as if Snape had just
complimented her.
Hermione found her seat at the front of the class, one that she supposed had been kept vacant
for the last month. Pansy plopped down next to her.
“If we are doing the whole best friends thing, I better start catching up. I need something to
argue against my father.” She said and winked at Hermione.
She felt her heart expanding and grinned at Pansy. Hermione tried not to, but she searched for
Draco then, found him already looking and she raised a single eyebrow at him, saying ‘see.
She’s not ashamed.’ Draco opened his textbook.
The Gryffindors arrived then, making a ruckus as they scrambled for their seats when they
saw Snape already glaring at them.
Harry smiled at her and mouthed ‘later’ at her. She nodded.
When the classroom began smelling like lavender and valerian and the fumes were strong
enough to hide the students on the last rows from view, when Snape had already barked at
Harry twice and vanished both Finnigan’s and Longbottom’s potion, she thought: It's so good
to be back in class.
They were finishing up the Hair-Raising Potion and most potions didn’t have the brownish
colour it was supposed to have, and Professor Snape was threatening to pour it down their
throats to see what would happen to them.
“A month in the hospital wing, at least,” Pansy murmured next to her; her eyes filled with
mirth. Hermione let out a chuckle.
When the class finished and Hermione went up to Snape’s table to deliver her homework, she
saw that his cupboard was now closed with a lock. Hermione blushed and she knew he
caught her looking. She decided to turn and leave before he could say anything.
Outside of the classroom, she found her two groups of friends glaring at each other. By the
looks Ron was giving Pansy, she suspected the raven-haired girl had said something about his
brains or his financial situation. Maybe even both.
“Potter says he wants to talk to you,” Blaise said, leaning on the stones on the other side of
the door as if the entire corridor belonged to him.
“And they think you need four bodyguards,” Harry added and Hermione sighed.
“Theo can wait for me, can’t he?” She asked. The school hadn’t had any attacks since the one
on Headless Nick and Justin, but that didn’t mean they were any less vigilant.
Theo only shrugged and Blaise nodded, finally removing himself from the wall. “We will
save you two a seat. Not that Binns will notice your absence.”
Pansy glared once more at Ron, who only scowled at her. “You are so ugly,” Daphne
commented offhandedly and she had pointed features just like Draco, but since she didn’t
wear them in the simpering grandness that he did, it usually went undetected. Now, her
perfect nose was so high that Hermione thought Daphne could easily beat Draco in arrogance
if she wanted to.
Harry waited for them to leave and Theo took Blaise’s position on the wall. Hermione stared
for a moment; it was a different kind of energy that Theo had. While Blaise was all come, talk
to me, Theo was talk to me, I dare you.
“We found this in the bathroom a few days ago,” Harry said, showing her a diary. “Myrtle
was crying, louder than usual if that’s possible. Someone had thrown it at her and she was all
offended by it.”
“It’s not like ghosts can feel a thing,” Theo muttered from where he was. Harry made a
motion that let her know he agreed with Theo.
“Try telling her that,” Harry replied, he didn’t bother to look at Theo, not that the Slytherin
had raised his eyes from his fingernails to speak. “She shrieked when I said it, went on and
on about making a game out of it, fifty points if it went through her head—”
“Draco came up with that, actually,” Theo said and this time Ron burned scarlet beside Harry.
She raised a single eyebrow at that, and Harry tried to hide a grin.
“Why do you have it?” She asked and Ron made a face that told her he as well had no idea
why Harry had kept it and decided to show it to her.
“Look at the year,” Harry said and showed it to her. “It’s from fifty years ago and whatever
this T.M. Riddle was, he was a muggle-born, because the diary is from Vauxhall Road.”
Hermione saw Theo straightening and finally turning to look at the diary, the curiosity finally
giving in.
“And who is he?” Hermione asked, from the corner of her eye, she saw Theo taking a step
closer to them.
“I only know that he received an award for special services to Hogwarts.” Harry said, “Ron
had to clean it during one of his detentions—” Theo snorted.
“Do you think it might have hidden powers?” She asked enthusiastically, taking the diary and
looking at it closely. Theo was by her side by then.
“If it has, it’s hiding them very well,” said Ron with a shrug. “Maybe it’s shy. I don’t know
why you don’t chuck it, Harry.”
“I wish I knew why someone did try to chuck it,” Harry said. “Why would someone have it
now? I wouldn’t mind knowing how Riddle got an award for special services to Hogwarts
either.”
“Could’ve been anything,” Ron started, clearly not taking the conversation seriously. “Maybe
he got thirty O.W.L.s or saved a teacher from the giant squid. Maybe he murdered Myrtle;
that would’ve done everyone a favour--”
Hermione felt Theo’s intake of breath beside her and turned to look at him. His jaw was
tense, and his eyes were the same nebulous shade they got every time he tried to mentally
distance himself from some thought.
“I wouldn’t expect you of all people to say that Weasley.” He said.
“What are you on about?”
“Myrtle was muggle-born. Isn’t your father the one who’s pathetically obsessed with
muggles? I don’t think he’d like one of his spawns saying something so controversial.”
There was a tense second where Hermione thought either Harry or Ron would blurt that
Draco had made the same controversial comment. “Fifty years, you said?” Hermione asked,
stirring the conversation away from wishing muggle-borns dead.
Harry nodded and she found from his arrested look that Harry had come to the same
conclusion. “What?” asked Ron, looking from one to the other.
“Well, the Chamber of Secrets was opened fifty years ago, wasn’t it?” he said. Theo shifted
from one foot to another. “That’s what Malfoy said.”
“Yeah,” said Ron slowly.
“And this diary is fifty years old,” said Hermione, tapping it excitedly.
“So?”
“Oh, Ron, wake up,” Hermione snapped, and she didn’t need to look to know exactly what
Theo’s expression was. “We know the person who opened the Chamber last time was
expelled fifty years ago. We know T. M. Riddle got an award for special services to the
school fifty years ago. Well, what if Riddle got his special award for catching the Heir of
Slytherin? His diary would probably tell us everything — where the Chamber is, and how to
open it, and what sort of creature lives in it — the person who’s behind the attacks this time
wouldn’t want that lying around, would they?”
Theo exhaled next to her and she felt a tentative tug on her wrist, she looked at him and
found the Slytherin looking at her with wide eyes and rigid. There was a slightly panicked
expression in his eyes and Hermione cocked her head in confusion. He was clearly trying to
tell her something.
“That’s a brilliant theory, Hermione,” said Ron, removing Hermione from her thoughts.
“With just one tiny little flaw. There’s nothing written in his diary.”
“It might be invisible ink!” She whispered, pulling her wand out of her pocket and tapping
the diary three times. “Aparecium!” Nothing happened. Undaunted, Hermione shoved her
bag into Theo’s hands and pulled out Narcissa’s Christmas present.
“It’s a Revealer, Narcissa got me for Christmas,” she explained. Theo gave a small nervous
laugh. Ignoring him, she rubbed hard on January first. Nothing happened.
“I’m telling you, there’s nothing to find in there,” said Ron impatiently. “Riddle just got a
diary for Christmas and couldn’t be bothered filling it in.”
“Let’s go,” Theo said, seeming to finally have enough. “We are going to be extra late. It’s
your first day back.” He pulled her away, putting her bag on his shoulder and all but shoving
the diary on Harry’s chest.
“Hey,” she complained, they were already turning the corridor and Theo hadn’t stopped
dragging her. “I can walk. What’s wrong? You are acting weird.”
“I’m not acting weird.” He scoffed. “I’m acting perfectly fine compared to you and Potter
who are thinking some old diary found in the out-of-order bathroom is the key to these
attacks.”
Just as Blaise had said, he saved them a seat and Binns hadn’t noticed they were late, but he
did notice that Hermione was back after thirty minutes of class and the ghost found himself
having to answer questions.
...
The days blurred together, and it was easy to ignore Draco when he had quidditch practice
every afternoon after classes and Hermione had the excuse of catching up on her study
groups. It also helped that they weren’t being offensive towards one another or avoiding one
another, they were simply not speaking. More than once, Draco would find her and the boys
in the library and sit down at their table to study, just like she’d do the same.
But her situation with Draco wasn’t the only thing on her mind. Actually, she had already
come to terms with it, or lack of anyway. No, it was the almost impossible task of finding any
information on who T.M. Riddle was and that Harry had gotten all secretive after valentine’s
day. Hermione mentioned it to Pansy and the girl had said it was his period coming and
Hermione sighed. Really, she should’ve known better.
Another thing on her mind was Theo. Hermione thought that whatever had made him weird
that afternoon, lingered for weeks. There was a vacant look in his eyes that even Blaise
seemed to have trouble getting him out of it. Every time she tried to mention it, he’d talk it
off, saying it was just stress. However, even with all his aloofness, he stayed close and had
taken to glaring at Harry at every given chance, much like he did to her during their first year.
...
Halfway through February, a day before the Slytherin against Ravenclaw match, she, Theo,
Blaise, and Vince were in the library. Greg was acting as a ball boy and picking up the
Quaffles from Slytherin’s practice, Daphne and Pansy were doing detention for spiking
Lavender Brown’s tea with a potion that turned Lavender’s hair well, lavender. No one had
seemed to know it had been the two girls, but one afternoon Snape came and sent them
cleaning cauldrons. Milli and Tracey had become such a duo that more often than not, they
disappeared just the two of them. Hermione thought it had been days since she really had a
conversation with either girl besides pleasantries in their dorm.
“You know,” Blaise said after almost an hour of silence. Hermione should’ve expected it. He
could never keep quiet for too long. “It took me three weeks to realise it.”
Hermione didn’t have to look up from her parchment to know that green eyes were boring
into her skull. She decided to keep writing, she had a vague idea about what he was talking
about. A few days ago, Hermione found herself in the Slytherin mezzanine studying with
Blaise when Draco appeared, and there was only too much silence one could endorse without
being weird. Since then, Blaise had taken to look between her and Draco.
“What?” Vince asked beside her.

“Granger and Draco are fighting,” Blaise announced and Hermione sighed, finally looking up
from her assignment.
“We are not fighting.” She said calmly. Hermione knew her expression gave nothing.
“What?” Vince asked again, “I didn’t see them fighting.”
“Because it happened over Christmas, didn’t it?” He asked, a perfectly done eyebrow raised.
A completely unrelated thought crossed her mind: Blaise Zabini got more handsome day by
day. She blinked it away. “You two haven’t talked once since we returned. I’d say you two
are becoming quite good actors, but I will give it to the fact that you were stuck in the
hospital wing and Draco is a terrific liar.” He pointed out, “but it’s harder to pretend when we
are together.”
“Why are you guys fighting?” Theo asked, genuinely confused. Hermione wondered if this
was something Blaise hadn’t run first with Theo, just deciding to drop the bomb on his own.
“I told you. We are not fighting.” Hermione snapped.
“This is your fighting tone,” Vince commented and Theo snorted.
“He has a point.”
“We are not fighting.” She repeated for the third time. “We are simply done,” Hermione said.
“Done? What do you mean?”
“I mean that Draco is a jerk. I don’t deserve to be treated like that and I won’t put myself in
his vicinity to allow him to hurt me again.” She exploded, louder than she intended and a
traitorous tear slipped from her eyes.
The three boys straightened in their chairs and were gawking at her explosion. Blaise was the
first to recover. “What did he do?”
Hermione took a deep breath. “I don’t want to talk about it.” She said. And it was true. Draco
didn’t deserve it, but she wouldn’t spill his nastiness to his friends and put them against the
blond, no. And not because she was good and the bigger person, but because she knew it ate
Draco inside knowing she hadn’t said anything to any of them. Especially when all of them
were going out of their way to show the entire castle that they were indeed friends.
“Hermione,” Blaise said. She knew his tone; she knew this meant he was going to get up and
corner Draco until he extracted the truth from the other boy.
A desperate corner of her brain pictured Draco saying all his ugliness to Blaise and Blaise
agreeing. Making Blaise leave. Her chest constricted. “He called me a jumped-up mudblood
and that he wished I would be the next victim. He hoped it would be fatal.” She blurted,
Hermione could taste venom on her tongue.
Theo’s and Blaise’s reactions were instantaneous: their whole body flinched, and similar
expressions of anger formed in their faces, one pale and one dark.
“He said that to you?” Theo asked, voice eerily calm.
“Has he lost his mind?” Blaise barked instead. Madam Pince shushed them from wherever
she was.
“Actually, he said that to Vince and Greg.” She said and both boys turned to glare at Vince,
who was thoroughly confused. “Not like that,” she amended. “I told you what happened
when Harry and Ron drank the Polyjuice. Draco thought he was talking to Vince and Greg.”
Blaise moved to get up. “I’m going—”
“No,” Theo said, stopping him by holding the boy’s arm.
“No?” Blaise asked, anger taking over him. “He crossed a line. No, he fucking took a portkey
to the other fucking side of the world with how far he has gone.”
“He won’t listen to you,” Theo said. “You are not the same.”
“What does that mean?”
“That Draco listens to nothing and to no one that he doesn’t believe is on the same level as
him,” Theo explained. “He will listen to me.” His tone was definitive, Blaise didn’t try to
argue. Hermione once again found Theo to be too intense for a twelve-year-old.
“I don’t want you to talk to him.” She told Theo. “I’m done Theo, I don’t want anyone
explaining to him that I am a person, and my blood has nothing to do with the kind of person
I am. I don’t want it.”
“It’s not right—”
“I know. He won’t get another chance.” She said and turned to Vince, who had been
uncharacteristically quiet. “What would you have said? If you were the one to hear that?”
Hermione had her answer when the boy lowered his head and she saw his ears reddening.
“I would have laughed.” He mumbled.
Blaise snarled.
“And?” She prompted.
“I would have said something that made him believe that I agreed with him.”
“Do you? Agree with him, that is.” She asked. “Do you want me dead as well?”
“No!” Vince said, shaking his big head. “And not because you help me with my homework
and help me study.” He said quickly, “I like you. I find you terrifying.” He blushed at that. “I
know that I shouldn’t like you, or even talk to you because you are a muggle-born, but I do.”
“You have got to stand up for this shit, Vince,” Blaise told him. “The things that are
happening in the castle, they are bound to get worse. You know what everyone isn’t saying
out loud. He’s getting stronger. People think he will return soon.” Blaise pushed, "You’ve got
to make your decision. This,” he motioned to all of them sitting together at the library table,
“won't be enough.”
It sent shivers down to Hermione’s spine. Voldemort had possessed Quirrell last year, it
couldn’t be a coincidence that muggle-borns were being attacked this year. Theo was looking
at his bare left arm, his shoulders were tense and there was hatred in his eyes that Hermione
thought he was seeing something there that no one else could. He must have felt her eyes on
him because he looked up at her and Hermione's breath caught at how endless his eyes
seemed. It was a blue so startling that it should have been impossible. Theo’s frown
disappeared while he looked at her, she watched as resolution took place and he nodded to
himself.
She had no idea what had just gone through his mind.
“I can’t,” Vince said, shaking his head. “My father has been on Lucius’ left side since they
left Hogwarts. I know my place. It’s the only thing that I have.” The boy said, showing much
more eloquence than Hermione had ever heard from him.
“I know about shitty fathers Vince,” Theo replied. “The thing about them is that you have to
make your decision before they decide for you.” He glanced at her again, “and I have made
mine."
“I'm not you.”
Theo scowled. Theo and Draco were similar in many things, but if there was one thing in
which they differed the most was how Theo abhorred any praise of high steam, while Draco
thrived on them. "My father doesn’t even know that Granger is a muggle-born.” Hermione
gaped at that. “No one is insane to write home about the muggle-born in our midst when she
gets us all the points, tutors half of our house, and is going to singlehanded make Marcus
Flint graduate.” She felt her cheeks blushing, “I doubt your father knows that you are friends
with her.”
“Lucius—”
“He clearly doesn’t care,” Theo said with a chuckle and he gave Hermione one of his rare
open looks, she caught awe in his blue eyes.
“So why is he like that?” She asked, her voice much more honest than she intended. The look
Theo gave her was similar to the one Harry used to give her when she was still trying to
prove Draco’s innocence.
“He’s a coward,” Theo said. “He has never used his head to think for himself and he won’t if
you let him get away with this shit. Being passive-aggressive won’t work with him.”
“I don’t have to prove myself to him.” She said. She was already tired of having to prove
herself all the time. To be accepted in Slytherin, to be seen as more than the muggle-born.
“You don’t.” Blaise said, “It’s their small, bigoted minds that can’t see it. And their fathers’.”
Blaise almost snarled. “No offence,” he told Theo, who only shrugged.
When they left the library that night, she knew Theo would talk to Draco, but she also knew
that the conversation wouldn’t take place that night or in the following morning, not when
Slytherin would be playing Ravenclaw and they all wanted Draco to get the snitch.
...
That Saturday, Hermione woke with Pansy on top of her and trying to smoulder her with a
quidditch sweater.
“Was it really necessary?” She asked after finally removing Pansy and the sweater from her.
She was slightly breathless.
“Yes,” Pansy said with a smirk. “I was certain that your hair would save you from being
smouldered. I had to try.”
Hermione flicked the wand she kept under her pillow. “Furnunculus!” She cast and Pansy
shrieked when boils erupted from her face.
“Get it off!”
“No,” Hermione said and finally inspected the sweater she had almost been killed with. It had
Draco’s name and his number on it. The sight of it had something twisting on her chest. She
brought it close to her nose and sniffed it. It smelled like him: cedar and spice. Was she stupid
for missing him?
Daphne was trying to calm Pansy down and both girls were already wearing their Quidditch
sweaters. Pansy’s sweater had Marcus’ name and Daphne had Adrian’s. They didn’t seem to
notice how pathetic Hermione had been just then burying her nose on the wool.
“I will go with you to Snape to get it off,” Hermione said, deciding it would be best to just
wear it and avoid having to explain anything.
“You better!” Pansy hissed and used her scarf to hide most of her face.
They left their dorm and found the quidditch teams already in the common room, receiving
well wishes from the rest of the house. Her heart fluttered when she saw Draco tripping on
his own feet at the sight of her with his number on her left breast and his name on her back.
He kept staring at her, his silver eyes shining and surprise colouring his features. Hermione
made a point of ignoring the stomping of elephants on her stomach. She was certain her
period wasn’t to come for at least another week.
They went to Snape and then up for breakfast and Hermione followed Draco with her eyes
throughout the entire meal and even forced herself to mutter good luck to him when the team
separated from the rest of the house. During the game, Draco had a small smile through it and
when he caught the snitch after a little over an hour, he flashed it with a wide smile straight at
her.
Hermione realised she was not in fact, done with him.
She should have known Theo had been watching her since that seemed to be Theo’s favourite
hobby from the moment he was sorted in Slytherin, so she wasn’t exactly surprised when he
intercepted another stolen look in Draco’s direction with a glare. Hermione watched him go
up to Draco and ask to talk to him in private. Blaise, obviously, followed.
There weren’t any smiles after that. In fact, the days went back to the same silent standstill
that they had been. Everything kind of returned to that post-Christmas morning normalcy.
Theo was still acting weird even though he denied it every time she asked, but now Blaise
was smirking every time Draco even dared to breathe in her direction. He also wiggled his
eyebrows suggestively after one morning when Draco, quiet as a mouse had sat two seats on
her left and murmured a well done when she had been the first to get the new spell right.
Hermione had completely ignored him.
...
The days turned into weeks, which turned into months, and finally, the entirety of the
Slytherin house seemed to realise that Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy weren’t
speaking to each other. The story somehow got out and Hermione had the feeling that Vince
was the one who cracked.
They entered May and Hermione was overflowing with tutoring sessions, homework, and
study group meetings that she could barely sneak two sentences with Harry every time they
managed to stumble on each other in corridors. Oliver Wood had decided to train his
quidditch team every night after dinner reducing, even more, the opportunities for the pair to
catch up.
She finally managed to catch him one evening after classes when he was returning a book in
the library. He quickly dragged her to a quieter corner and pushed their chairs together,
leaning into her space. Hermione braced herself for whatever was coming.
“I know who he is.” He told her. “T.M. Riddle. His name is Tom Riddle, and he was a student
in Slytherin fifty years ago.”
“How?” She asked, slightly offended. She doubted Harry had better researching skills than
her. Hermione had searched endlessly in the library about who T. M. Riddle could have been,
but she couldn’t find anything, not even why he had been awarded that trophy fifty years ago.
The diary gave her a bad feeling. It couldn’t be a coincidence that just when the chamber of
secrets reopened, a diary from the same time as when it was last opened would appear.
“I’ve been talking to him through the diary.” He said and Hermione almost jumped away
from him.
“What do you mean? You are talking to Tom Riddle through the diary?” She asked, Harry’s
sentence giving her all kinds of red flags.
“Just that.” Harry said and eagerly opened the diary, showing her that every drop of ink on it
disappeared and if he wrote something—he wrote hi as an example— the ink would
disappear and—every hair on Hermione’s body stood when the words ‘hello Harry Potter’
appeared on the diary. “It’s been a couple of months now, actually, since Valentine’s Day.” He
said sheepishly.
“And you didn’t think of mentioning it before?” She shrieked.
“I knew you would flip and—”
“Of course, Harry!” She chastised him. “Diaries are not supposed to write back!”
“He showed me what happened.” He murmured and she tensed.
“What?”
Harry then told her all about what he had seen on Valentine’s Day, how Hagrid had been the
one to open the Chamber, and about Aragog. Hermione could only gape at him.
“But Hagrid?” She asked, “I know he likes big and dangerous animals but—”
“I know.” Harry agreed. “But it’s not like he always had control over his creatures.”
“But why would Dumbledore allow him to stay in the castle after the attack? The monster
killed a student, Harry.”
“I know Hermione.”
“What if Riddle got the wrong person? He was desperate to stay in the castle, he might have
found the first dangerous creatures and blamed it.”
“How many dangerous creatures do you think Hogwarts is housing?”
“I don’t know! Last year we found Fluffy and Hagrid got a dragon! I wouldn’t put past me
that somehow there was something else besides a giant spider!” She snapped. “Can I see it
again?” Hermione asked and Harry nodded. He was about to hand it to her when Theo simply
materialised next to her, tugging on her wrist.
“I need to talk to you.” He said, getting in the way between her and the diary.
She narrowed her eyes at him, ready to snap at his manhandling. But Theo in front of her
made her stop. This Theo was angry: blue eyes cold as ice, there wasn’t warmth in them, and
Hermione felt like she had just been caught doing something wrong. Very wrong “Now.” He
said again, a little bit more forcefully.
It was Harry’s turn to glare, and when he dropped the diary on the table, Theo flinched, “get
this thing away from me.” He snarled. “Granger, it’s important.”
She knew it was. The longer Theo eyed the diary, the paler he became. Hermione realised he
was terrified. “Yeah,” she mumbled. “Let’s go.” Hermione swallowed. “I will talk to you
later.” She told Harry.
Theo tugged her to an alcove and completely ignored the two sixth-year students that
whistled when he pulled her behind the tapestry.
“What’s wrong, Theo?” She asked, turning her hand so he’d hold her palm, not her wrist. He
squeezed it and she gave him a small smile.
“You—” he started and shook his head. “You will drive me mad.” He told her. “You must
know by now, Granger.”
“Know what?”
“The attacks—” his throat closed, and he shook his head annoyed.
She narrowed her eyes again and huffed. “It’s not Harry—”
“I know!” He said, his voice rising. “Don’t you see?” Theo put his other hand on her arm,
near her shoulder. “That diary—” he hissed, and his face got pinched, as if in pain. “Think
Granger! I watched you, I saw your expression, I know you are thinking it too.”
“Do you think—”
“I know Granger, I know.” He hissed again.
“You know.” She whispered, understanding finally colouring her features. “You know,” she
said again.
“I can’t say it.” He told her, “I want to, but I physically can’t.”
“Your father.” She said and he gave her a curt nod.
“In the yearbook of 1943, there’s a picture of a group of Slytherins. My father is in the
picture, Avery’s father as well. There are no names, but I look exactly like my father, you will
know. It’s him. The one you can’t find anywhere. It’s him.” He told her and she could see in
the way his voice caught in his throat and his hands slightly shook that it was indeed
physically impossible for him to say it and he was trying everything to go around it.
“Tom Riddle is Vold—”
“Don’t say his name!”
“Harry is talking to him! He’s—that’s why you’ve been weird!”
“I’ve been trying to find a way around the Vow, to tell you, but I couldn’t, I was waiting for
you to start noticing, so I wouldn’t have to say it, but bloody Potter is fucking talking to the
thing and every spare second that you have you disappear with him and the attacks—” his
voice caught again, and she could only watch as he mouthed a string of swear words.
Her eyes widened. The attacks. It wasn’t a coincidence that a fifty-year-old diary had simply
appeared in the castle now. That was what Lucius Malfoy had brought into the castle. A
book. Small enough, inconspicuously enough.
If Hermione hadn’t been in the middle of a major discovery she’d be flattered by Theo’s
expression of amazement.
“They’d have no control—” she muttered to herself, remembering what Draco had said.
“Because they don’t know who’d find the book—But wait—Harry just found it—It doesn’t—
Who had it first?”
He blinked at her. “I lost you somewhere between you connecting the dots and ‘they have no
control’”
“That’s what Draco heard.” She explained. “When we were at the manor, he told me he heard
his father and Snape arguing a few times. Lucius wanted to do something, and Snape didn’t.
Snape said it would be too dangerous and that Lucius would have no control over it.”
Hermione explained and she knew her eyes were wide and brilliant like they always got when
she got into one of these moods. “Someone found it first—not Harry, and somehow was
responsible for the attacks, but this person, whoever they are, got rid of the diary and now
Harry’s found it.” She nodded to herself. “The creature in the Chamber can only be controlled
by the heir of Slytherin and since the book can talk—”
Theo released a breath, his body sagged on the opposite wall. “You are brilliant Granger,
fucking brilliant.”
She smiled at him. “You are not so bad yourself.”
The tapestry was pulled apart then and revealed Professor Snape on the other side. Theo and
she were smirking at each other and both had crazed looks in their eyes. Snape looked
between the two of them and glared. He looked ready to snap.
“What are you two doing hidden behind a tapestry?” He snarled. “Get out.” He told Theo.
“We were—”
“I found you two by following giggles and insinuations all down the hall.” He barked. “Don’t
you two have a class to be going to?”
And just as he said it, the bell rang, and Theo and Hermione quickly left the alcove and
sprinted to class.
Theo only shook his head when they found their seats in Transfiguration and Hermione
understood it as a sign to keep that between them. But she knew she had to talk to Harry. He
needed to give that book to Dumbledore immediately. Before another attack happened and he
became responsible for it.
…
Severus knew that sooner or later he’d have to deal with his daughter and boys in hidden
alcoves, he actually suspected it’d be sooner rather than later with the amount of time she
spent in the presence of boys. He just didn’t expect that it would come on her second year
and with Theodore Nott of all people.
Severus had placed his eyes on the Malfoy boy and the Zabini boy. But Draco had all of his
father’s nastiness and Severus hadn’t found an excuse to punish the boy yet and Zabini, well,
Zabini paid even more attention to Nott than he paid Hermione.
But quiet Nott with his hidden thoughts and schooled expression had been a surprise. He was
going to add this occurrence right now to the list of things he blamed Narcissa for. It was her
fault that she taught the twelve-year-old boy occlumency and he had mastered it over the
summer. Severus, being skilled as he was couldn’t read the boy’s mind when he needed it,
having to retort to sneaking attacks when the boy was caught off guard, usually when Zabini
was going on and on over something. That boy simply didn’t seem to know how to keep his
mouth shut.
After making sure his daughter had made it to class without any detours, he went to his office
to enjoy his free period with a glass of fire whiskey. Day drinking was not an exactly healthy
habit, being his father’s son more than proved it, but just a glass would keep the sight of his
daughter behind a tapestry out of his brain.
Severus always hated teaching Fridays, the students were always too eager to leave the
classroom and forgone books for the weekend, but Fridays preceding Quidditch games were
the worst. There was the constant humming of energy and their excited whispers of who’d
win the game: would Potter catch the snitch? Would something happen to him this time?
What if another cursed Bludger is after him? Severus was more than tired of the name.
...
Saturday morning came with one-third of the school in Gryffindor red and Severus knew it
would be a bad one. He followed his students to the pitch, trying to find Hermione in their
midst, but failing. Without her friends forcing a sweater over her head, Hermione didn’t seem
much inclined to attend the games. She had taken that after him, he knew. Lily had always
liked to watch Potter twirl and make exaggerated throws.
The teams had barely gathered on the middle of the pitch when McGonagall came rushing in,
her hair in disarray, and in her hand was an enormous purple megaphone.
Hermione’s absence thundered on his chest now. He knew that expression. “The game is
cancelled.” She announced to a booing crowd. “All students are to make their way back to
the House common rooms, where their Heads of Houses will give them further information.
As quickly as you can, please!” She announced and Severus’ heart dropped like a stone.
Severus looked again to the Slytherin stands, hoping that Hermione was just late, but the
panicked looks on her friends’ faces told him enough.
He almost leapt out of his seat and went down to the pitch where Minerva was now ushering
Potter to follow her.
“Minerva.” He called when he reached her, they were already by the marble staircase. Potter
had the same panicked expression his father wore when he saw that Remus’ werewolf form
had almost killed him. “Who was attacked?”
“I don’t have good news for you, Severus.” She told him and he felt like throwing up. “Miss
Granger and Miss Clearwater were just found in the library.”
“Is she—”
“Both are petrified, thankfully.”
He was going to check on Hermione and then straight kill Lucius Malfoy because this was
exactly what he said would happen.
They entered the Hospital Wing and Dumbledore was there, alongside Madam Pomfrey and
Flitwick. Hermione lay utterly still, the sixth-year prefect next to her in a similar fashion.
Both girls had their eyes open and glassy. “They were found near the library,” Minerva said
and held up a small, circular mirror. “I don’t suppose you can explain this? It was on the floor
next to them.”
Potter shook his head and Minerva turned the mirror to Severus. “I will ask her friends.” He
said, his occlumency walls in place. He knew that neither his voice nor his expression would
give anything away. Severus looked at Potter and the boy held his stare, a little show of
bravery that only made it easy for Severus to read his thoughts. He caught snippets of the last
conversation between siblings and the mess in Potter’s room.
“I will escort you back to Gryffindor Tower,” Minerva told Potter, “I need to address the
students in any case.” She said with a sigh. “Please Severus. These are the new instructions
for the students.” She said and handed him a piece of parchment.
Minerva left with Potter and Severus got closer to the bed where Hermione lay. Dumbledore
remained at the foot of the bed. “Curious, isn’t it?”
Severus looked up from his daughter’s fisted hand, where the mirror had clearly been, to the
headmaster’s clear blue eyes. “What?”
“Miss Granger had this book with her as well.” Dumbledore handed him a copy of Rare
Creatures and their Darkness. Severus felt a headache coming. “I asked Madam Pince to
check it for me, in case I might have forgotten, but I was right, we don’t have this book in the
library, not even in the Restricted Session. So, I’m curious, where she might have gotten it
from.”
“Probably from the Nott boy,” Severus replied. It wouldn’t be the first time the boy stole a
rare, dark book from his family’s library.
“Maybe Theodore Nott knows more than he’s letting on.” Way, way more, Severus thought.
“Do we know what page she was reading?”

Dumbledore chuckled and handed him the book. “Interesting mind, Miss Granger has, that’s
for sure.” Severus shuffled through the pages and found every single one of them covered
with muggle post-its and pieces of parchment tucked in between the pages.
“She does not write on books.” Severus noticed with slight amusement. His schoolbooks had
been crammed with information in the corners and every blank space, arrows, and circles
around words. Lily always said she needed a map to navigate around his notes.
“I managed to read up to the Ashwinder, she wrote down so many interesting details that I
found myself unable to skip anything.”
Severus opened the book to where the Ashwinder was and found a small note: snake? Harry
can talk with them.
When he looked at Dumbledore, he saw the man smiling. Severus frowned. “You think she
has found out what’s inside the Chamber.”
Dumbledore nodded. “There’s a missing page in that book. For someone who doesn’t write
on one, ripping off a page seems extreme.” Severus looked to confirm and indeed, between
the Aqrabuamelu and the Chupacabra, there were the remains of a hastily ripped-off page.
“She’s petrified but we still don’t have our answer.” The headmaster said. “Miss Clearwater
is a muggle-born, but a sixth-year in Ravenclaw, why would Miss Granger be with her?”
“They are in the same study group for Defence Against the Dark Arts,” Severus said.
Dumbledore hummed. “You can’t be thinking—Headmaster, every student attacked so far
has been a muggle-born.”
“Not all. Mrs Norris and Sir Nicholas have also been attacked and maybe, just like them,
Miss Granger was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Severus didn’t reply to that. “I have to inform my students.” He said instead. “I will be taking
these with me.” He pointed to both the book and the mirror.
He strolled to the Slytherin dungeons, he still had his occlumency walls intact, he didn’t dare
to let any emotion out now.
Crossing the passage, he found all of his students gathered at the common room, most of
them standing and they barely contained themselves when they saw him crossing.
“She’s not here—”
“I haven’t seen her all day—”
“—I told her to go and—”
“It’s her, isn’t it?” The last one was the Malfoy boy and Severus glared at him with such
strength that the boy staggered.
“There have been two new attacks.” He told them and he saw a few of them gulping. “This
morning, Miss Granger and Miss Clearwater from Ravenclaw were found petrified near the
library.” Draco made a choked-up sound and Daphne let out a sob. “We have new rules on
effect as of now. Pay attention.” He said and began reading the parchment Minerva gave him.
“All students will return to their House common rooms by six o’clock in the evening. No
student is to leave the dormitories after that time. You will be escorted to each lesson by a
teacher. No student is to use the bathroom unaccompanied by a teacher. All further Quidditch
training and matches are to be postponed. There will be no more evening activities.”
Severus folded the parchment and showed them the mirror. “Does this belong to Miss
Granger?”
The girls with whom Hermione shared her room took a step forward. “No.” Pansy said, “it’s
not hers. I don’t think she even owns a mirror.”
He nodded. “It’s likely that the school will be closed unless the culprit behind these attacks is
caught. I told you this when these attacks began, I won’t be lenient this time. I urge anyone
who thinks they might know anything about them to come forward.”
“They will think it’s us, won’t they?” A seventh-year asked.
Another student scoffed. “The heir of Slytherin, the monster of Slytherin. I don’t see how
they could not blame us.”
“Especially when we have Malfoy telling her he wished her dead,” Montague said and Draco
visibly flinched. He turned his grey eyes to Severus in panic.
“Professor, I—” he gulped. “I didn’t mean that.”
“I don’t care,” Severus told the boy; he didn’t have time for whatever damage Lucius had
inflicted on his son. “No one is to leave the Common Room. I will be here when it’s time for
lunch.”
“Professor,” Theo called, “I want to talk to you.”
“Follow me, Mr Nott.”
He took the boy to his office and immediately frowned when he heard noises coming from
his private quarters. No one had access to his quarters. “Stay right here.” He told the boy,
who only nodded.
Severus opened the door, which after confirmation, proved that it was indeed still locked. The
noise, however, was coming from his Floo, where both Narcissa Malfoy and Remus Lupin
were stuck inside the grates.
He snarled and cast a Muffiato on the room before removing the grates and allowing both of
them to step out of the fireplace.
“Do you have any idea how long I have been stuck in there?” Narcissa asked, scowling and
removing ash from her gown and straightening her hair.
“What on Merlin’s name are the two of you doing here?” He asked.
“Where’s Hermione?” Remus asked. He didn’t look much different from his usual self.
“How—”
“We can’t feel her,” Narcissa said, her eyes panicked. “It’s like—”
“She’s gone,” Remus concluded. “I thought it was me at first and I went to the Manor to
check with Narcissa—”
“A lovely visit, of course.” She muttered sarcastically and eyed the filth around Remus'
trousers with disdain. Severus was certain she would ask the elves to scrub the floor as soon
as she returned.
“And I found her on the gardens panicking. What happened to Hermione?”
“We assume she’s alive since the castle’s still standing,” Narcissa said she was going back
and forth with her emotions, in perfect Slytherin fashion.
“She was petrified.” He told them. “I will deal with the two of you later. I have a student
outside. Make yourself at home.” He snarled and without waiting for a reply left the two for a
much-needed godparent catch up.
Theodore had also made himself at home and sat in one of the chairs in front of his desk.
“Visitors?” the boy asked. A single eyebrow raised and a smirk already in place. Occlumency
did give him a boost in confidence.
Severus put the book on the table in front of the boy. “I assume this came from your library.”
“I gave it to her as a Christmas present.”
“Why?”
“You know why.” He shrugged. “I made an Unbreakable Vow with my father over
Christmas.”
Severus stopped mid-step. Who in his right mind would make an unbreakable vow with a
twelve-year-old?
“I think she found out which creature is attacking the students. She had the book when she
was attacked. There’s a page missing from it. I think she ripped it.”
“I knew she’d find out.” He shrugged and right after straightened on his chair. He took a deep
breath. “Potter has it.” He said through his teeth.
“Theo,” Severus warned.
“I managed this far before.” He told him. “Hermione has seen it. She knows his real name.”
“Potter wasn’t present for the attack. It can’t be him.”

“So, he lost the fucking journal.” Theo snarled and winced in pain. The mess in Potter’s
room. Someone had indeed stolen it.
“Theodore.”
“Around February, someone chucked it, he found it and had it with him until yesterday. I saw
it. She almost touched it. I told her what I could. She knows everything. And now she’s
petrified.”
Severus watched the boy, who screamed frustration with his body. Theo had learned
Occlumency to protect himself from the same person he made an Unbreakable Vow with.
Theo had Adeodatus as a father and managed to become a decent boy. Severus had to admit
the boy deserved thanks for everything he did to help Hermione. “Thank you, Theodore.” He
said and not even Occlumency could hide the surprise in Theo’s expression. “You did what
you could,” Severus told the boy, who was taken aback. Severus himself didn’t remember the
last time he said thank you. “Go back to your common room.”
The boy nodded and left the office, Severus barely had time to sigh in exhaustion when the
door of his quarters opened.
“Someone needs to get that boy out of Adeodatus’ hands immediately,” Narcissa announced
with a frown. “I can only imagine how much worse it would be if I hadn’t taught him
Occlumency.”
“And why exactly did you teach him that?” Severus asked. “He only learned about your
husband and his father’s plans over Christmas.”
“He knows.” She said simply, “or at least he suspects. He’s not stupid and we did invite
Hermione over every holiday, the manor has wards against muggle-borns, Draco doesn’t
know that, but I’m sure Theo suspects, his Estate has the same wards.”
“Are you kidding me?” Remus snapped, “how bigoted can you be?”
Severus sighed. Merlin, ten years weren’t enough time to make Severus forget the absolute
nightmare that was the two of them together.
“Well, we simply like to make sure the quality of our guests—”
“Quality?” He scoffed, “And The Prophet has the gal to write that Narcissa Malfoy has
excellent taste.” He scoffed again, “I always assumed they meant something other than
murderers for company.”
Narcissa turned a frozen smile in his direction. “Well, we have that in common, don’t we?”
She asked. “You kept one in your bed.”
Remus growled and Severus did quick math to see how close they were to the full moon.
“That’s enough.” He called. “Cissy. Hermione is petrified because your husband decided to
get Tom Riddle’s school journal into Hogwarts. Theodore Nott knows exactly what hides in
the Chamber of Secrets, but he can’t tell, or else he dies. The school is going to close if
whoever is behind the attacks doesn’t get caught. Cissy, I need to know to whom Lucius gave
that journal.”
“I don’t know.”
“He will tell me.” Severus snarled.
“Can’t you get Mandrake Restorative Draught?” Remus asked. “Being filthy rich must be
worth something.”
“Of course, I can.”
“No,” Severus said with a sigh. “She’s safe for now. If we bring her back now, she’s back at
risk. I won’t play my odds again. And Dumbledore would want you to give it to the others—”
Narcissa’s scoff cut him off. “Exactly.”
“How’s Harry?” Remus asked.
“He was scared when I saw him. He had the journal for months, since February,” the pair
nodded, they were listening to the conversation. “I saw Potter’s memory; someone stole the
diary. It’s in Gryffindor. Whoever had the diary before Potter got it, is from Gryffindor.”
Narcissa pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled. “Care to share?” Remus asked.
“It’s one of the Weasleys.” She said. “It must be. Lucius has a sense of humour—”
“That’s questionable.”
“—He got into a fight with Arthur Weasley at Flourish and Blotts when the kids were there to
buy their supplies. It was the last time he mentioned the diary to me. He would have used the
commotion to slip the book to one of them. They have a dozen of children, no one would
notice an extra book.”
“Not only did he get rid of an extremely dark artefact from his house he also managed to put
it in the hands of the kids of the one raiding his house,” Severus concluded.
Remus was opening and closing the cabinets, “talk about a sense of humour.” He said after
having found a bottle of fire whiskey.
“That’s mine.”
“You don’t mind sharing.” Remus shrugged and took a sip straight from the bottle.
Narcissa curled her lip in disgust. “Animalistic behaviour.” She muttered.
“Are you two staying for lunch?” He asked sarcastically. “Or are you ready to leave?”
“I want to see her,” Remus said.
“Absolutely not.”
“Come on Severus, live a little. There’s a vial of Polyjuice in that cupboard of yours, I just
know it. I haven’t seen her in years.”
“I’m going to see her,” Narcissa announced and left. Severus sighed.
“You can either go after her and leave me unsupervised or take me with you.”
“Or I can stun you and shove you back inside that Floo,” Severus growled but Remus’ only
reply was a smirk. With a snarl, Severus went to his cupboard where indeed he kept a vial of
Polyjuice. Next to the vial, there were a few strands of hair, he grabbed the white-blond one
and put it inside of the potion. He handed it to Remus.
“I do hope that’s not some kind of roleplay you ha—” with a twist of his wand, he forced
Remus to drink it without uttering another word.
It started with his hair, Lucius’ obvious colour and length appeared in place of Remus’ light
brown. It was nauseating to watch the change, especially when Lucius Malfoy looked
incredibly out of place in Remus’ ratty clothes.
Remus waved his wand, transfiguring the clothes to what Lucius would normally wear, and
raised his head high, nose pompously in the air. “Is it high enough?” Remus drawled and
Severus rolled his eyes.
“Let’s go.”
Chapter End Notes
Let me know in the comments what you think!
Title of the chapter and quotes at the beginning belong to Neptune by Sleeping at Last
til you tore it all up, running scared
Chapter Notes
I can say properly enough just how much I love and appreciate all the comments you
guys make. it really amazes me that you not only take time to read this but also write
enormous comments and it truly makes my day!!
This is the last chapter of year two!! Next week we are off to Year three!!! and it has
been my absolute fun to write it as it's my favourite book of the series.
Excerpts were taken from Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. They don't belong
to me, they belong to the original author
I hope you enjoy!!
And there we are again

when nobody had to know
You kept me like a secret,
but I kept you like an oath
Chapter Twelve
Watching her frozen with her hand up high was unsettling, but Severus couldn’t help but
guard her bed every moment he could. Most of the time he stayed in his Animagus form,
perched on the ceiling, hidden in the darkness, but sometimes he’d pull a stool next to her
and sit by her side. Narcissa had made a show that day, blaming Madam Pomfrey for not
having the foresight to keep restorative draughts in her supplies, and asking whether their
children were really safe with Dumbledore?
But Remus—or Lucius Malfoy—had watched her with a reverence that made Severus’ heart
clench. He knew, that for the first few years, that bookstore close to Hermione’s house was
the only thing keeping the man sane. Remus had deteriorated through the years. Black’s
betrayal, the Potters’ death, and Pettigrew’s murder did more than just leave him behind. The
wolf wasn’t the only horror inside him. Remus had left the hospital wing ten minutes before
his hour was up in silence and Narcissa, playing the part, followed him.
The real Lucius Malfoy had appeared that night, taking not only Hagrid but Dumbledore with
him, no doubt having threatened the other eleven members of the board.
…
He left his office the next morning and had barely turned the corner when he heard Parkinson
yelling. It wasn’t even ten in the morning.
“It’s your goddamned fault!” Severus picked up the pace, following her strident voice. “It’s
always you!” He found her with both hands clutched on Potter’s robe and was pushing him
back, knocking him against the wall.
“I would never hurt her.” Potter glared, but his green eyes were wide, and Severus knew it as
fear.
Parkinson scoffed. “Every time something happens to her it’s your bloody fault! First the
Troll, then the whole stint on the third floor! She brewed Polyjuice for you! Why does she
keep getting dragged into your shit, huh?” She yelled and Parkinson’s tiny fists were giving
Potter’s robes hell.
“I didn’t—”
“Get the hell away from her Potter,” Parkinson warned.
“Miss Parkinson.” Severus drawled. That scare was enough. Parkinson pulled herself off
Potter and Theodore dragged her away. The brunette nodded towards Potter and the other
gave a curt nod back. Perfect, he sneered.Exactly what he needed “Please return to your
common room.” He told her and when he saw the others from Hermione’s group hovering.
He barked, “all of you.”
He only glared at Potter and the boy straightened his robes and left as well.
Severus kept an eye on the Weasleys, having informed Dumbledore about the information
and what else he had learned from Theodore. Dumbledore's only response was to hum and
run his fingers through his beard.
“What should we do?” He had asked, to what Dumbledore's mere reply was: “we should
wait. None of the Weasleys can deal with the dark magic that seems to live in this diary.
Whoever had it already tried to get rid of it, they will try again.”
He decided it was really for the best that Dumbledore had to leave Hogwarts because he
wasn’t in the mood to deal with Dumbledore treating the entire situation as a betting game.
The only good side of the situation was that he finally could punish Draco Malfoy’s
behaviour over Christmas. He had only allowed five people to visit Hermione on the hospital
wing and his godson wasn’t on the list. Neither was Ronald Weasley.
Severus found Draco in his classroom one morning, the boy had slouched shoulders and
circles under his eyes. “The class doesn’t start for the next fifteen minutes.” He told his
godson.
“Uncle,” Draco called. “I—” Severus cut him off.
“You haven’t talked to her since Christmas.”

“She didn’t want to—”
“I know what you said Draco.”
“I don’t want her dead!”
“You said exactly the opposite.”
“I think he’s testing me.” Draco blurted. “I think Father is putting me to fail. It doesn’t make
sense, uncle.” The boy shook his head. “I don’t understand.” Draco sighed. “My father
always told me muggle-borns were beneath us and how they steal our magic and our jobs—”
“You won’t ever have to work in your life Draco.”
“He never said a thing about her,” Draco said, ignoring him. His tone was verging desperate.
“And I heard him talking about muggle-borns filling up positions at the Ministry. Father
didn’t save any words in expressing his dissatisfaction with it, saying how polluted and
unsavoury the Ministry has become.” Draco paused. “It’s like he forgot Granger is muggle-
born.” He sighed. “He wrote to me before the Christmas break, his words were keep an eye
on her. And then Vince and Greg were asking all these questions about the Chamber, who
was behind it and they are never curious about anything, so I thought—“ He snarled, “I
thought their parents had sent them questioning, I thought they wanted to know what our
stand was on all these attacks,” the boy ran his hands through that pale blond hair, “She spent
summer at the Manor, I thought they had told their parents and somehow my answers would
get back to my father—but it was fucking Potter and Weasley.”
So that was the reason behind his latest bout of nastiness. Severus had wondered about the
consequences of Narcissa and Lucius inviting Hermione to their home. He knew Narcissa
had talked to the girls’ mothers, he also knew that Nicodemus and Thadeus were much like
their sons and didn’t have brains, that their hatred was whole and unchangeable. Not that
Lucius was a saint, because the man's hatred was just as real.
Severus would never say it out loud, but where people saw Lucius as a powerful man,
Severus had only ever seen a weak man.
There was no power in having to dance to everyone else’s song to survive. People feared him
yes, but not as much as Lucius feared everything else. Thadeus and Nicodemus were too
dumb to realise that the man they worked for and took orders from was a persona created to
satisfy their own expectations. Adeodatus was too blind by violence to see that Lucius’ brand
of violence was an exact match of his own and never beyond. Lucius was never the same
man twice. He carefully moulded himself to the shells that the men he made believe his farce
wanted.
There was nothing powerful in being a farce.
Lucius disliked muggles and wanted muggle-borns to be kept away because it suited his
family’s standing in a society that put the Sacred Twenty Eight above everyone else, but he
also did business with muggles when it suited his coffers. Lucius was a businessman. A very
good one. But he wasn’t evil, he was desperate. He had dozens of legitimately evil people
looking up to him and waiting for him after over a decade of very careful storytelling. Lucius
never thought he’d have to enact it. His crowd was noisy with jeers and boos and Lucius had
the highest standing to maintain.
Lucius liked to rule, he liked to know that he could bend the rules to his wishes, that he could
get anything that he wanted whenever he wanted. It could only make a man terrified that the
one person he had vowed to be a strong follower all these years was the only one who could
take everything from him. Everyone in their circles whispered how the Malfoys were proud
supporters, how they were still loyal after all these years and how they kept to the old ways
when so many became blood traitors. They didn’t know that the Malfoys were the ones who
had the most to lose if the Dark Lord returned. No one had been wise enough to see how
much they thrived with Voldemort gone.
They had mistaken the spark in Lucius’ eyes as excitement when in reality was nothing but
desperation.
Draco continued, “It doesn’t make sense. My father has spent my entire life teaching me
about how dangerous muggle-borns are and why they are lesser than me, the way their magic
is impure, dirty, stolen. My mother too raised me well far from anyone she didn’t consider
worthy of me, of the Malfoy name. All of my playdates had been meticulously planned.
Weasley,” Draco snarled, his nose curled, “, is a pureblood, Longbottom is one as well, and
yet, neither was considered to play with me by my mother. But a single encounter with
Granger outside Madam Malkins’.” He paused, his voice had raised now, “when I knew what
she was just by looking at her parents and their weird clothes, had my mother saying: you do
well to befriend her Draco.” Severus had to control his eye roll. “There’s no way my mother
could have failed to see they were muggles, that the girl wasn’t supposed to be there, much
less talk to me.”
“I know your parents’ views quite well Draco.” He said. “But what about your views? What
do you believe?”
Draco gaped at him. His expression was of complete shock. “Are you saying I shouldn’t
believe in them?”
“Draco, you are twelve, not five. Use your brain. Does Hermione’s magic feel different from
yours? Is anything harder for her than it’s for you? I’m not saying you should go to muggle
London and embrace the first muggle you cross paths with—” Draco looked disgusted by the
suggestion. “I’m saying to look at Hermione, your friend, and to tell me if there’s anything in
her that isn’t worth of magic.”
“There isn’t,” Draco mumbled.
“Then start acting like it.” He sneered. “Before it’s too late. She won’t tolerate it forever.”
Severus sighed and circled his desk to where Draco was slouched. He was the boy’s
godfather, yes, but he had never been the type of person to offer advice or have bonding time
with his godson. Severus had the suspicion that Draco had been short of good advice his
entire life - the boy did have Lucius Malfoy as a father. He sighed. “I had someone who’d
jump on to make excuses for my poor behaviour, but eventually, she got tired and saw that I
wasn’t all that worthy.” He told the boy and saw him flinch. “One day, she will stop trying to
defend you. One day, you will look to the side, and she won’t be there. Girls like Hermione,
they don’t look back when they leave.” He finished and got up, checking to see if his
Occlumency shields had been in place.
Lily hadn’t looked back. She had told him to get lost. She had told him that she had had
enough and that was it. He knew now, it had taken him a decade, but he knew now that the
night they conceived Hermione had been nothing more than a panicked and desperate try to
get him to the right side. She was a Gryffindor after all, an overachiever and stubborn girl,
who refused to believe that things didn’t bend to her will and she had tried one last time.
Draco stayed quiet and kept that way when the rest of the students started to fill in, he
watched as his godson eyed the empty place next to him, the one Hermione usually sat,
dejectedly.
He should have expected it, weeks later, when he was sitting on the chair by her bed in the
early hours, to hear the door creaking open and a head of pale blond hair to appear. Severus
turned into his Animagus form and hid.
Draco took unsure steps towards her. Severus watched everything from the place he was
hanging upside down.
Draco reached her bed and his breath caught. Severus knew what it felt like to see her
petrified for the first time. The boy watched her hands. The one closely tightened in a fist and
the other raised as if holding something.
Severus was surprised to see the tears pooling in the boy’s eyes.
“I’m sorry” Draco mumbled and took the hand that was in a fist, “I’m sorry I failed to keep
you safe.” The boy sighed. “I’m not ashamed of you. I know you think I am. I know I never
did anything to make you think otherwise but, I’m not ashamed of you Granger.” Draco ran a
thumb over her hand, “I should have kept close to you, I shouldn’t let you hang out with
those two morons, I know they only put you in danger. I know I’ve been a shitty friend and I
promise you; I will be a better one from now on, okay? I will do my part. I will be your
friend not only behind closed doors, and I also won’t make you feel like I’m embarrassed
about hanging out with you, I won’t make you think I hate you.” Draco sighed again and
dried his eyes with his free hand. “I’ve heard you talking with the girls, I heard you telling
Pans how you must embarrass me, and that’s why I’m not nice to you when others are
around. You don’t Granger. I’m so sorry.”
Draco didn’t leave, he kept by her side the entire night, his head resting on her bed. When
morning finally came and Madam Pomfrey left her quarters and found Draco asleep on her
side, she berated him for breaking the rules and ushered him out. No one would ever doubt
that the boy was Lucius’ kid just by his nasty reply.
As the weeks passed, differently from the previous attacks, the students and the professors
didn’t return to a sense of security, with Dumbledore gone and the threat of the school
closing, everyone entered and left classrooms in silence.
May turned into June and three days before their first exam, just as Severus was taking his
students to the Great Hall for lunch and Minerva’s news, he overheard Zabini mentioning that
Hermione, once revived, would be so annoyed that she lost five months of classes that year,
especially since they had to decide which electives to take next year.
Severus realised he had postponed the headache that sitting down with Hermione to discuss
her options for the next year was going to be.
Sitting down next to Minerva at the high table, as he waited for Minerva to break the news,
he tried to guess which subjects Hermione would choose. For someone who loved
transfiguration and Charms as much as the girl did, certainly, she’d opt for Arithmancy or
Ancient Runes, maybe both, but usually they overlapped so—
“It’s lunch Severus, why are you already frowning?” Minerva asked.
“With the students being revived today I remembered that I have to inform Miss Granger of
her options for next year and explain to her why she can’t fit twelve subjects in her
schedule.”
Minerva gave a small chuckle and winked at him. “Why can’t she?” She asked.
Before Severus could question that comment, Minerva raised from her seat and announced to
the Hall. “I have good news,” she said, and the Great Hall, instead of falling silent, erupted.
“Dumbledore’s coming back!” several people yelled joyfully. Severus rolled his eyes.
“You’ve caught the Heir of Slytherin!” Squealed a girl at the Ravenclaw table.
“Quidditch matches are back on!” Roared Wood excitedly. Of course, that’s what the boy was
worried about.
When the noise had subsided, Minerva clarified, “Professor Sprout has informed me that the
Mandrakes are ready for cutting at last. Tonight, we will be able to revive those people who
have been Petrified. I need hardly remind you all that one of them may well be able to tell us
who, or what attacked them. I am hopeful that this dreadful year will end with us catching the
culprit.”
There was an explosion of cheering and Severus allowed himself a moment of relief.
Of course, like most things regarding his life, relief didn’t stay for long, during the second to
last class of the day, he was in the middle of revising the Draught of Living death to his sixth-
year students when Minerva’s voice echoed through the corridors and classrooms. “All
students to return to their House dormitories at once. All teachers return to the staffroom.
Immediately, please.”
Another attack.
“Who can it be?” A student whispered.

“Which muggle-born is left?” The other replied.
“You can gossip inside your common rooms.” Severus drawled, “return, at once. Leave your
belongings for now.” He ordered and they all nodded.
He took a secret passage to the staffroom and found that almost all teachers were already
present. Flitwick and Sinistra arrived last, closely followed by Minerva. Severus almost
didn’t notice that Lockhart was missing. “It has happened.” She told them. “A student has
been taken by the monster. Right into the Chamber itself.”
Flitwick squealed from the chair in front of him. Severus gripped the back of it hard. “How
can you be sure?” he asked. It was either another muggle-born or one of the Weasleys who
had had the diary all along.
“The Heir of Slytherin,” she said, her voice shaky. “Left another message. Right underneath
the first one. ‘Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever.’”
Her, Severus thought. It could have been his daughter. Flitwick had burst into tears.
“Who is it?” Hooch asked, she was hunched on a chair, “Which student?”
“Ginny Weasley.” She told the room. The Weasley girl. Severus sneered. Lucius had picked
the most naïve, ingenuous Weasley kid for his wickedness.
“We shall have to send all the students home tomorrow,” said Minerva. “This is the end of
Hogwarts. Dumbledore always said—”
The staffroom door banged open again, it was Lockhart, and the fool was beaming.
“So sorry— dozed off— what have I missed?”
Severus sneered and walked up to him. “Just the man,” he said. “The very man. A girl has
been snatched by the monster, Lockhart. Taken into the Chamber of Secrets itself. Your
moment has come at last.”
Lockhart, of course, blanched.
“That’s right, Gilderoy,” chipped in Professor Sprout, who surprised Severus with her
quickness. “Weren’t you saying just last night that you’ve known all along where the
entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is?”
“I— well, I—” he sputtered.
“Yes, didn’t you tell me you were sure you knew what it was inside?” Flitwick piped up.
“D-did I? I don’t recall —”
“I certainly remember you saying you were sorry you hadn’t had a crack at the monster
before Hagrid was arrested,” Severus said, fighting off the smirk. “Didn’t you say that the
whole affair had been bungled and that you should have been given a free rein from the
first?”
Lockhart's face was ridiculous, Severus wished he could simply hex him and be done with
this charlatan. “I — I really never — you may have misunderstood —”
“We’ll leave it to you, then, Gilderoy,” Minerva said, “Tonight will be an excellent time to do
it. We’ll make sure everyone’s out of your way. You’ll be able to tackle the monster all by
yourself. A free rein at last.”
Lockhart gazed desperately around him, but of course, nobody said anything. Severus had
lost count of how many times the man was the topic of hatred discussions in the staffroom.
He finally looked like his true self: weak-chinned and feeble.
“V-very well,” he said. “I’ll — I’ll be in my office, getting — getting ready.” And he left the
room.
“Right,” Minerva exhaled, “that’s got him out from under our feet.” Severus snorted. “The
Heads of Houses should go and inform their students what has happened. Tell them the
Hogwarts Express will take them home first thing tomorrow. The rest of you please make
sure no students have been left outside their dormitories.”
They all rose and left. Severus made a quick stop at the hospital wing, to make sure that
Hermione was fine. “What happened, Severus?” Madam Pomfrey asked him.
“The monster has taken Ginny Weasley to the Chamber. The train will take the students back
to London tomorrow morning.”
“My Merlin,” she cried and rested a hand on her heart. Madam Pomfrey had an empty vial on
her hand and Severus could swear he saw Flint-Fletchey twitching. “There have been signs of
them awaking, already.”
“Good.” He spoke.
There was quite a commotion around her, Hermione wasn’t sure if it was yelling or crying.
She tried to open her eyes and frowned when she met resistance. Little by little she could
recognise the voices around her as Ginny’s and Madam Pomfrey’s, there were other people in
there, but their voices Hermione couldn’t quite place. Finally, she managed to open her eyes
and look around. She was at the hospital wing. Mr and Mrs Weasley were smothering their
daughter in a tight hug. Madam Pomfrey was coaxing Collin Creevey to sit up.
The matron must have felt Hermione’s eyes on her because she turned, “Oh! You are awake.
That’s wonderful. How do you feel?”
“I’m fine.” She said, “just a little confused.”
“That’s alright. You will feel better soon enough.”

Hermione nodded and tried to remember what had happened, she looked around her and the
Gryffindor Prefect was on the bed next to her. The monster! She thought. Hermione looked
down at her hand and saw that the piece of paper she had before seeing the eyes of the
Basilisk through the mirror, wasn’t there.
She had found out about the monster in the chamber. She was going to tell Harry about it
when the prefect found her in the library unaccompanied. They had heard a sound and
Hermione urged the girl to close her eyes. It was good luck that Penelope had a mirror inside
of her bag and the two used to look behind them. Then it was cold and darkness.
Hermione had been petrified.
“What happened?” She asked. Madam Pomfrey filled her in. The matron told her about how
she and Penelope had been the last ones attacked before the monster took Ginny to the
chamber— Ginny was the one with the book all this time, Lucius must have put it alongside
her stuff that day at Diagon Alley—and how Harry and Ron had gone after her. Mrs Weasley
had resumed crying when Madam Pomfrey told her about how Harry had saved Ginny and
brought the girl back.
“There will be a commemorative feast tonight.” Madam Pomfrey said at last. “You all are
free to go. I’m certain your friends have missed you.”
Penelope, being the only prefect among them, took all of them with her to the Great Hall. The
walls of the hall were closed, but Hermione could hear all the noise from inside. The moment
they pushed the doors open; the hall fell into silence for a moment before erupting in cheers
again.
She felt frozen in place. Hermione stared at the hall and only moved when Justin broke into a
run towards his friends in Hufflepuff. Hermione then spotted her friends in Slytherin and
smiled widely when she saw all of them standing, a few even standing on the bench. She ran
to them. They were all in their pyjamas.
“You are back!” Blaise exclaimed and he was the first to reach her. She crashed on his chest
and he hugged her tight.
She felt another pair of arms around her, recognised Pansy’s perfume, and turned to hug her
as well.
“You’ve missed so many classes, I’m so envious,” Pansy said and Hermione gasped in
horror. Daphne chuckled and Hermione pulled back from Blaise and Pansy to hug Daphne.
“Hermione,” she heard Draco calling and turned to him. “I’m sorry.” He said. “I—” She kept
looking. Draco didn’t seem to know what else to say. Hermione wouldn't help him.
Blaise, who had perfect timing, called her to seat, pulling her by her arm and dropping her to
the space next to him. It was her usual place, Draco even sat next to her and she ignored his
eyes. “Tell us what happened.” He prompted and she nodded. Theo was sitting on the other
side of the table and Hermione grinned at him widely when she found him waiting.
“Theo is brilliant, that’s what happened.” She said with a smile. Because yes, Theo deserved
a second chance, Theo proved that he was not his father and did everything he could to help.
The boy blushed faintly, and she told all of them everything that she had learned. Just like
after the trials on the third-floor last year, every Slytherin at a listening distance was paying
attention to her. “—I figured it must have been a snake because Harry could talk to them and
since the beginning of the year, he had mentioned hearing a strange voice on the walls, saying
it wanted to kill.” She told them. And then she told them about the diary and to whom it
belonged. “Theo’s father forced Theo to make an unbreakable vow to not say a thing. He
gave me half-tips and said whatever he could in hopes that I’d figure it out, he even gave me
a book for Christmas on Dark Creatures which had the answer in there all along, he just had
to hope that I’d find out.” She saw a few people patting Theo on the back and he got even
redder with the praise and recognition. Blaise on her side was only looking at Theo, a mix of
surprise and admiration. “So, I knew it was a snake and then I found the entry in the book on
the Basilisk. It’s a creature that kills people by looking at them and it’s powerless against the
cry of a rooster—that’s why all of them were dying this year!”
“But if it only takes a look to kill, why didn’t anyone die?” Daphne asked, she was sitting on
the edge of the bench, trying to lean over Pansy to hear better.
“Because no one looked at it straight in the eye!” she said, Hermione knew she had a crazy
smile on her face. Draco had a small smirk on his face that only confirmed her suspicion.
“Colin Creevey saw it through his camera, remember? He had the camera raised to his face.
Justin saw the Basilisk through Nearly Headless Nick and since Nick was already dead, he
couldn’t die again, and Justin ended petrified. The floor where Mrs Norris was found was
filled with water and I think she saw the creature through the reflection on the floor. I had just
learned about it and was leaving the library when Penelope found me, thankfully she had a
mirror with her and we spotted the Basilisk through it!” Milli gasped at that and Vince
muttered cool under his breath.
“You are brilliant Granger; I will tell you that every day,” Blaise said, awe in his voice.
She smiled at him, “But I’m curious though, how did Harry figure everything out?” She
asked and almost all of them shrugged.
Everyone but Theo. He smirked sheepishly. “I found a piece of paper in your hand when I
came to visit you in the hospital wing. I saw what it was, and I might have shoved it into
Potter’s chest and told him to be a hero.”
“Theo!” She exclaimed. “That’s—”
Blaise snorted and smirked at Theo. “Imagine if your old man discovers that you helped
Harry Potter.”
“He can try,” Theo smirked back.
The door opened again, and everyone turned around to see. It was Harry. Without a second
thought, she got up and sprinted toward him. “You solved it! You solved it!”
She hugged him and his hug almost crushed her. “I couldn’t have done it without you.” He
said, “How are you?”
“I’m all right.” She waved him off, “and you? I heard what happened down there.”
“I’m okay. I will tell you all the details later.”
“Sure, sure,” she smiled and allowed him to go to his Gryffindors friends who were yelling
themselves hoarse.
Dumbledore awarded two hundred points each for Harry and Ron and despite wanting to, she
couldn’t feel bad for having lost the house cup again. But she did feel bad about not being
awarded any points. Or Theo, who surely deserved it. And she also felt bad about Professor
McGonagall informing them that their exams had been cancelled. Vince and Greg almost
cried in relief. She spied Marcus Flint a few people down the table murmuring some sort of
prayer. They were also informed that Professor Lockhart wouldn’t return next year and even
the teachers joined the cheering.
...
The next few days went in a blur, they didn’t have class or exams to worry about, so they
spent their days being lazy in different parts of the castle. Draco was the only one a little
down and she knew it had to do with his father being sacked from the Governor’s Board.
It turned out he had threatened the other members to agree with removing Dumbledore from
the grounds and tried to argue yet again for removing muggle-borns from the student body, as
it was too dangerous for them.
The six of them were sitting by the edge of the lake, enjoying the beginning of the summer
and their last moments before taking the train back to King's Cross. Blaise was sprawled on
the grass like a starfish, Theo was on his side, but occupying much less space than his friend.
Daphne had her head on his thighs and Pansy had hers on Daphne’s. Hermione was sitting
beside Blaise, resting her chin on top of her knees and Draco was sitting in a much similar
position, but at Pansy’s side.
Hermione laughed as they made their bets for the upcoming year. Pansy and Daphne would
go to France, Blaise had yet another wedding to attend, this time in Portugal. Theo wouldn’t
be able to tag along for that and the boy was already showing signs of stress about returning
tomorrow.
When the sun got low and they had to return for the last check on things, she saw the other
five exchanging glances and having a silent conversation about what Hermione was almost
sure it had to do with her.
They got to their feet and quickly left, leaving her behind with only Draco.
So they were doing that now.

Hermione turned to look at him, he was already looking. “I don’t forgive you.” She told him.
Draco looked down. “You wished me dead, Draco.” She repeated.
“I'm sorry.” He said with the same desperation he showed the night she returned. “Of course I
don’t want you dead, you are one of my best friends. I don’t want to look to the side and not
see you there.” He said, Hermione’s chest tightened and she felt her throat closing. “I was
lying. That day, I received a letter from my father, he asked me to keep an eye on you and
later, when Potter and Weasley were pretending to be the boys, they asked all sorts of
questions, questions Vince and Greg never asked and I thought the two things were related.
I’ve seen my father say one thing to my mother and do the exact opposite when their fathers
were present, she never blinked twice at that, so I soon learned is a part of the game we have
to play. I thought it was the same thing. I said the things I’ve been taught to believe, to the
people that have to hear it. They weren’t supposed to be Potter and Weasley.”
Hermione really, really wanted to believe him. He looked honest and the others had all agreed
to this little ploy to get them alone, so maybe they had heard this version of Draco’s, maybe
they believed in him. But words weren’t enough for him anymore.
“Why didn’t you try to tell me that before? Why did you keep harassing the other muggle-
borns then? You can’t be my friend and call the other muggle-borns by that word.” She told
him. “I will forgive you when I see that you have changed.”
“I don’t want to be like him,” Draco told her, his voice low.
She could have said that she knew that, and be done with it, but even though she knew deep
down that she wasn’t done with him, she was scared of putting her heart on the line again.
She wasn’t certain that Draco could or would change, she wasn’t going to try to change him
or to insist he became a better person. She wanted him to change, but he’d have to do that on
his own and in the meanwhile, she’d only hope he didn’t break her heart too many times.
“Then prove it.”
"How?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "It should be obvious Draco." She told him. "If you don't know,
then it means you don't know what you are doing wrong. And you are doing wrong."
Draco stared at the lake in front of them, it wasn't frozen anymore, but Hermione doubted
that its waters were anything but frigid. She watched him. Hermione saw the same resolution
taking place in his face as she had seen on Theo's face in that library all those weeks ago.
"I admire my father," Draco started, "but his actions and his beliefs are not the right ones. I
know that now." He nodded to himself. "I understand what it means to be a Malfoy and all
the many layers that are necessary to wade through the circles that my family moves in. I
understand that, but I won't let it become me." He had turned then, telling the last bit to her
face. "Theo is right, you know?" He said with a small smile, "if I didn't know better, I'd be-"
He flushed, skipped whatever he was going to say, "When we allow ourselves to see it, you
are the best thing that has ever happened to Slytherin."
Hermione wasn't prepared for that, Merlin no, she would never have expected to hear
something like it. Not from Theo, not from Draco. "I don't think it's-"
He cut her off, "It's displayed in his drawing-room. The mask, the entire uniform." Hermione
could see a shiver run through him. "He reminded me how much I always hated seeing it,
how dark and eerie and just simply awful that outfit made me feel." Draco didn't need to spell
out for her to know that he was talking about Theo's father's Death Eater robes and mask. "He
told me you felt like salvation to him." Hermione gasped, "He might have made an
Unbreakable Vow with his father, but he made an oath to himself, he vowed to never own one
of those and told me that every vicious, ugly thing I said about you or people like you, put me
one step closer to that awful mask. Hermione, I don't want that mask."
She felt tears pooling in her eyes, she felt an overwhelming need to throw her arms around
Draco, around Theo and never let any of them go. Hermione wished she could be strong
enough, skilled enough to be the salvation they saw her as.
Hermione nodded, she didn't hug him nor allow the tears to fall. "I will be by your side," she
told him, "as long as you walk away from it. As long as you prove that I'm not your muggle-
born quota."
Chapter End Notes
Please keep commenting! A few of you have shown interest in seeing Narcissa's
reaction to her son's lovely behaviour, but I didn't actually write it as the POV in here is
only Hermione's and Snape's, we will learn the contents only in passing. If more people
want to see how that conversation take place, please let me know in the comments and I
can make some adjustments.
Updates are on Fridays. Follow me on instagram and twitter if you'd like.
The title and quote, in the beginning, belong to Ms Taylor Swift and it's from the 10
minute version of All Too Well (Taylor's Version)
a future in my life I can't foresee
Chapter Notes
Hello! Again, thank you so much to everybody that reads this story and takes the time to
leave a comment, I really appreciate it!!
We have started our third year! This has been my favourite year to write so far as it's my
favourite book and movie. We are going to see more of Remus and why "everything for
our Moony" was the truest sentence to ever be written.
This chapter is just a filler before they all take the train to Hogwarts, but we see pieces
of important information for the chapters that are coming. Hope you enjoy it!
There's a devil in your smile, it's chasing me

And every time I turn around it's only gaining speed
There's a moment when you finally realize
There's no way you can change the rolling tide
Chapter Thirteen
August, 1993. Muggle London
France had been amazing. It had been a lovely surprise when her parents picked her up at the
station and informed her they would be spending a month travelling around France.
Hermione had always loved history and France had it in abundance. They took the ferry from
Portsmouth to Caen and Hermione’s father, who loved history as much as she did, told her all
about D-Day as they strolled around on the sand of Omaha beach. They also enjoyed the low
tide and crossed the bay of Saint-Michael on foot to visit Mont Saint-Michael. From
Normandy, they went to Paris for a weekend and Hermione had read all about Montmartre,
the Parisienne version of Diagon Alley and she begged her parents to take her to the Pythia
statue that hid the entrance to the wizarding world. They agreed to do so by the end of their
trip.
They visited Colmar, right close to the border with Germany, an Alsatian village with
brightly painted, half-timbered buildings and Gothic churches, not to mention the landscape
of vine-covered foothills. It was very lovely, and just as lovely was the south of France,
where they visited art museums and strolled along cobblestone streets and palm-fringed
boulevards. Hermione understood why Cote d’Azur was such a famous destination. Twice, it
got her wondering if Pansy would bother staying in one of those lavish vacation villas, luxury
hotels, gourmet restaurants, and yacht-filled marinas or it would still be beneath her by being
a place for muggles.
Before going back north, they enjoyed the Provence countryside, where Hermione basked
under the Mediterranean sun with a book on Beaubaxtons Academy of Magic on her lap. She
thought of Theo as she strolled around the sunflower’s fields, thinking of how much he’d
appreciate that quiet and dreamy landscape, safe from Unbreakable Vows.
Hermione managed to squeeze a trip through Joan of Arc monuments in Chinon, Rouen and
Orleans and left the small towns with more books than either she or her parents could carry
about the French heroine. She was only seventeen! Hermione kept repeating it as her mother
explained how Joan of Arc led the country to victory during the Hundred Years’ War.
Hermione quite literally stumbled on the answer to her previous question about whether or
not Pansy would bother to visit southern France. Her father had decided to not take the map
and walk around Loire Valley as he wished, without being sold by the sizes and appearances
of the chateaus. In return, they found themselves in front of Chateaux Noire propriété de
Draco du Malfoi. Hermione’s mother had to pick Hermione’s chin from the floor when the
girl read the plaque.
“So, they are this rich.” Her father had grunted.
Hermione could only nod in assent. The chateau was Draco’s. Draco’s.
“The thirteen-year-old boy has a chateau?” Her mother had asked in horror. “That’s why he’s
so nasty, all this money—” Her father had clicked his tongue and her mother stopped mid-
rant.
Differently from the Malfoy Manor, the chateau wasn’t hidden from muggles and later
Hermione discovered that it was indeed on the map, but not surprisingly, the chateau was
completely closed for visits and people from the region said they didn’t know who worked in
the chateau, as no one seemed to go in or out of there, but the gardens and the windows were
always in perfect order. Hermione had a clue about who cleaned that place.
The journey back to Paris was pleasant, the views were beautiful, but Hermione could only
wonder how many more properties the Malfoy’s had to their name, how many Draco owned.
Just as promised, her parents took her to Montmartre and similarly to Diagon Alley, it was
crowded. Kids were running around and parents buying school supplies, but unlike home,
nothing was in the Hogwarts colours, everything had the same shade of light blue silk and
instead of green and silver, red and gold, blue and bronze, yellow and black; the colours were
purple, blue and green.
“Hermione?” She heard and immediately turned around, “I can’t believe it! Hermione!”
“Daphne!” Hermione greeted with a grin.
The blonde nodded to Hermione’s parents, not before eyeing them from head to toe.
“Pleasure to meet you.” She greeted them in an irrevocable manner. “Why didn’t you tell me
you were coming to France for the summer?” The girl asked Hermione.
“I didn’t know, it was a surprise. We’ve been travelling all over the country and I didn’t have
time to write much.”
“Pansy left a week ago, she stayed with us and—Oh mama! I’m here.” Daphne called to a
tall, gorgeous woman, with a stunning turquoise robe. Hermione straightened.
“What have I said about running off like some Niffler after gold?” Mrs Greengrass chastised
her daughter.
“I met my friend from school. Hermione Granger.” Daphne said and Hermione noticed a
smaller girl peeking out from behind Mrs Greengrass.
“I’ve heard so much of you.” Mrs Greengrass said with a polite smile, “it’s a pleasure to
properly meet you, Narcissa speaks very highly of you, as well as my Daphne.”
“Both Mrs Malfoy and Daphne are very kind,” Hermione replied, trying to copy the same
elegance she always saw in Draco’s mom.
Daphne giggled and Hermione felt herself blushing. Mrs Greengrass gave her daughter a
single look and the girl bit the insides of her cheek. “You must be Hermione’s parents.” The
woman said and just like her daughter, gave them a once-over. “You must be oh so very
proud of your daughter for her achievements.”
“We are.” Her mother replied. If her mother was uncomfortable before, with just walking
around the wizarding street, now at the presence of a witch that was clearly measuring her, it
was tenfold.
“Are you enjoying Montmartre?”
“It’s a bit too crowded for my tastes.” Her father replied.
“Of course,” Mrs Greengrass smiled. It didn’t look kind. “Well, I’m sure you two would
prefer to enjoy the rest of your day somewhere more pleasant for you, no?”
“Yes,” her mother said, “but Hermione insisted that she had to visit.”
“Daphne told me she loves to read, have you stopped by the bookshop yet? It’s to cause
Flourish and Blotts envy.”
Hermione's eyes widened at that and she felt no pity at the slight panic in her parents’ eyes.
“We haven’t, no.”
“Oh, but it’s always so crowded, I heard there’s a book signing happening today—” her
parents paled at that, they remembered quite well the last book signing they went to. “If
you’d prefer, I can chaperone her for the afternoon, you two can enjoy yourselves somewhere
where’s more comfortable for you.” Mrs Greengrass said. Hermione would have thought the
offer came from kindness, if she hadn’t continued with, “I’m certain you can find places
more suitable for you with a stroll around Champs-Élysées?”
Mrs Greengrass was politely kicking Hermione's parents out of Montmartre. Hermione didn’t
let herself feel offended. She knew her parents always dreaded taking her to Diagon Alley or
King Cross. It made them feel unease, being in the midst of all the magic, which made no
sense to her, how her parents could see all of that magic and want nothing more than to leave
as fast as they could.
In the end, her parents agreed to allow Mrs Greengrass to watch over Hermione, and she and
Daphne enjoyed a pleasant afternoon together. Hermione learned that the short girl was
Daphne’s younger sister Astoria, the one Daphne always referred to as Tory and she was to
start Hogwarts come September.
And indeed, the bookshop was to die for, Daphne had to drag Hermione away. Hermione and
Daphne said their goodbyes by one of the Floo points at Place Cachée, where Daphne held
her sister’s hand as they called for their French home—just like Draco’s, Hermione learned—
in Loire Valley.
“Have you travelled by Side-Apparition before, Hermione?”
“No, Ma’am.”
“It will be unpleasant, then.”
And it was. The macarons and the latte she had at Café Abringer met the cobblestone street
the moment her feet touched the ground. It was lucky that Mrs Greengrass didn’t stay to
witness, Disapparating as quick as she came.
Hermione and her family returned to London on the 28th and on the 29th, she woke up to
find the Malfoy’s eagle owl perched on her kitchen window. Even her father recognised the
owl by now.
“Let me guess, they are inviting you to spend the rest of the summer with them?” He guessed
over his eggs.
She went over to the owl, bringing a biscuit with her to offer the bird. Hermione smiled when
the proud animal offered its head for petting. Opening the letter, she saw that her father was
indeed correct, it was an invitation to the manor.
Hermione wanted to go, it was the first thing that went through her head upon seeing the owl.
The invitation came in Narcissa’s handwriting, which was not surprising, considering how
Hermione and Draco finished the year on not very good terms.
She missed the Manor and all the possibilities it came with. She hated that she was the only
one among her friends that had to go two months without magic every summer. Hermione
was still upset with Draco, but she missed his mother and all the small lessons the Malfoy
matriarch taught her every time they were together.
“Well?” Hermione asked, grinning a little, “Can I go?”

Hermione’s mother sighed in exasperation. “Is it too much to ask to have you for an entire
summer? You spend the entire year away and last Christmas you decided to stay in the castle
—”
“Come on, Love,” her father said. “If you could be casting spells all the time, flying on
brooms, riding dragons—”
“I definitely won’t be riding any dragons.”
“—Wouldn’t you want to spend all of your time doing just that?”
Her mother grunted. “I wouldn’t mind one of those self-cleaning pans and pots I saw at the
window in that strange shop.”
Hermione laughed, remembering her mother looking at the window curiously but refusing to
enter the shop.
“See.” Her father said, patting the seat next to him so Hermione would join him for breakfast.
“It’s a whole new world for her.”
Hermione wondered yet again if her father would be this supportive if she had told them what
happened during that year. She had told them about what happened during her first year, but
as something that she took no part in. Hermione was certain that her mother wouldn’t allow
her to return if they learned about spending almost two months in the hospital wing because
she turned herself into a cat and then again for another month for almost dying.
She kept quiet and when her mother finally relented, Hermione quickly went upstairs to pack
her trunk for the new year. She didn’t worry about the school letter; she knew it would find
her at the manor.
Just like last time, there was a portkey inside, and she had another day until it activated, so to
please her mother, they spent it together.
“Are you sure you have everything?” Her mother asked for what Hermione thought was the
millionth time.
“Yes, mother.”
“Do you have enough money for your school supplies? What if we have another crazy list of
books—”
“I’m certain we won’t have that this year. And I do have enough money.”
“Did you get pads? Now that I think of it, I don’t think you took enough last year—”
“I don’t need that much mum; Aunt Cissy sends me a potion every month that keeps my flow
and my cramps to a minimum and I can always order some more through owl-post.”
“Hm. I don’t care about this fancy magical method Aunt Cissy has.” Her mother said and
Hermione tried not to grin at the clear jealousy, “there are quite a lot of methods, our normal
methods that help with cramps, all right?”
“I know mum. Magic is not always the best option, I mentioned that before, didn’t I? They
don’t have the telephone, do they?”
“Yeah, yeah. All right, it’s time, isn’t it?” Hermione only nodded and with a quick hug to
both her parents she held her trunk in one hand and her wand in the other and felt the familiar
but still unpleasant pull of the portkey.
She was proud of herself for managing to land on her feet this time, she knew it would be
embarrassing enough to fall on her ass in front of Draco.
“Miss Granger!” An elf squeaked.
“Hello, Dipsy.” Hermione greeted and the elf bowed in greeting.
“Hello, Granger.” Draco greeted and immediately the smell of cedar and clove hit her. He had
grown over the summer, getting almost four inches over her. He noticed her looking at the
newly acquired height. Draco smirked. “I’m 5’4 now.”
“That’s still not much, you know. There’s nothing to be proud of.” She replied with a scoff.
Draco stared. Hermione stared back.
“Dipsy, take Granger’s things up to her room.” He told the elf.
“Please,” Hermione added.
“Of course, Master Draco. Dipsy will take Miss Granger's things to her room.”
“Thank you, Dipsy.” Hermione and Draco said at the same time. “You also know how to
have manners,” Hermione added.
Draco ignored her, “we are having a late breakfast, want to join us? Mother asked the elves to
prepare the pie you like.”
“I’d love to.” She smiled in reply.
Draco led her to the smaller dining room, where the Malfoys usually had most of their meals
when they weren’t hosting.
Hermione couldn’t help but notice that not only Draco had grown, but his shoulders were
beginning to get a little broader. A crazy, random thought of resting her head on his back
between his shoulder blades crossed her mind and she felt herself blushing.
Before she could analyse why she was thinking of resting her head on Draco’s shoulder, they
arrived at the dining room and Narcissa was rising from her seat and coming in her direction.
“Hermione, my dear!” She greeted, kissing both of Hermione’s cheeks.

“Hello, Aunt Cissy. How has your summer been?”
“Been lovely, and so has yours, I imagine? I met with Kathleen, Daphne’s mother, the other
day for tea and she told me about seeing you in France.”
“Yes, it was nice. Mrs Greengrass was very lovely.” She said and Lucius made a sound at it.
Hermione knew it meant that he probably thought Mrs Greengrass was anything but lovely.
“Hello, Mr Malfoy.” Hermione greeted, making sure she kept her eyes on him and didn’t
show how unnerved he made her feel. He had been the reason why she and half of the
muggle-born students had been petrified last year.
“Hermione.” He greeted with a nod.
“Come, dear, sit with us, we were waiting for you.”
Their dining table adjusted its size according to the number of people in it, so this time
Hermione found herself sitting in front of Draco and with his parents on each side of her.
The conversation was light, mostly controlled by Narcissa, who inquired Hermione about her
trip and in return offered stories about the family’s trips to the continent. Draco got all
pompous and important when Hermione mentioned she saw his chateau at Loire Valley and
Narcissa patted his wrist proudly, before telling her all about the story of the house and how it
came to the Black family around three hundred years ago.
Mid-meal, the family owl appeared, alongside one of the school owls and as Hermione
expected, an envelope was dropped next to her.
Lucius had received the Daily Prophet and Hermione caught a glimpse of the cover where
she was certain she saw Ron in it. Lucius sneered, “That man keeps surprising me.”
“What happened, darling?”
“Ministry of magic employee scoops grand prize.” Lucius read. “Arthur Weasley, Head of the
Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office at the Ministry of Magic, has won the annual Daily
Prophet Grand Prize Galleon Draw.”
Narcissa curled her nose. “So, they have luck.” She commented, “I thought having seven
children despite being poor meant they had extremely bad luck on their side.”
“It’s not bad luck. It’s poor money management,” Lucius sneered and read the rest of the
article. “A delighted Mr Weasley told the Daily Prophet, “We will be spending the gold on a
summer holiday in Egypt, where our eldest son, Bill, works as a curse breaker for Gringotts
Wizarding Bank.” He made a nasty impersonation of Arthur Weasley’s voice that had
everyone at the table trying not to laugh. "The Weasley family will be spending a month in
Egypt, returning for the start of the new school year at Hogwarts, which five of the Weasley
children currently attend.”
“First time seeing a galleon and they spend it all at once,” Draco said with a sneer, much
similar to his father’s.
“How much was the prize?” Hermione asked.
“Seven hundred galleons,” Lucius replied.
Hermione made a face. Harry had mentioned how he saw that the Weasleys had a single
golden coin in their vaults last year. “That’s very imprudent.” She said. Lucius raised an
eyebrow. “Well, if you can’t pay seven galleons for a new wand for your son, you shouldn’t
be spending almost seven hundred on a trip.”
Lucius folded the newspaper and put it aside, she knew he was considering her. “What would
you have done?”
Hermione gulped, it was possibly the first time Lucius directly asked her something. “I would
have invested it.”
“Where?” He asked, “Investing is the obvious answer, of course, but where would you invest
seven hundred galleons?”
Of course, it wouldn’t be a simple conversation. Sometimes, it was easy to understand why

Draco was the way he was if he had to deal with financial lessons over eggs and toast. But
Hermione wouldn’t back down, not from this, not from Lucius Malfoy. He had tried to take
her down with an old diary and a giant snake and she now sat on his dining table with a pie
made especially for her.
“In brooms.” She said. Hermione and Daphne had passed in front of a quidditch supply store
in Montmartre, where the new firebolt was on display and she overheard someone saying it
wasn’t worth buying it since the world cup would be next year and certainly, they’d release
something for it. “The Quidditch World cup is next august. Every national team will be
buying the newest, fastest one in the market. They just released the firebolt, but people are
already thinking about the ones that will be released next year for the event. They won’t buy
the firebolt if they are expecting something better to be released next year and, whichever
broom the national teams use—that the winner uses, will have hundreds of sales.”
Lucius hummed. “Quick return. Just a year after the investment.”
“And with at least four years of sales, until the next world cup.” She thought of Maradona
and how every boy and man still wore his jersey from the world cup of 1986. “If there is a
star player, sales will be even higher.”
Narcissa was smiling and Draco’s expression was a little bit funny, he sure seemed shocked.
“I thought you hated Quidditch,” Draco said.
“It’s not about Quidditch.” She shrugged. “A sport with a legion of fans is the same
everywhere.”
The Malfoy patriarch leaned on his seat and he had a smile aimed at her. It wasn’t a warm
one or even a proud one like Narcissa’s. It was rapacious. “Ten per cent,” Lucius said. “If you
are correct and the broom sales find a boom next year, I will give you ten per cent of the
initial investment money.” Hermione was taken aback, she was glad that there was no food in
her fork, otherwise, it would have fallen as her hands shook. “The Prophet draw prize.”
It took her no time to do the math. Lucius Malfoy was going to invest seven thousand
galleons on brooms because she had said it. Was he testing her? Rousing her? Trying to make
her baulk?
Hermione was certain everyone around the table knew how much money he was about to
remove from their vaults, but Narcissa didn’t even blink. How much did it cost him to buy
the Slytherin team seven Nimbus 2001? Did it cost him at all? Lucius was smirking now, all
snake-like and she narrowed her eyes. “Fifteen per cent.”
He grinned. Hermione’s eyes widened. She had been subject to several smiles from the
Malfoy family and that one was a first in this set of features. Draco might look like a softer,
younger version of his father, but the honestly amused grin was the same. “What a truculent
little girl.”
“What was all that about?” Draco asked later, when they were sunbathing at the edge of the
lake, Hermione was slightly distracted by Draco’s white t-shirt and how it was quite loose
around his collarbones.
“What?” she asked, looking away from that particular bit of skin. His face was already pink
from being out in the sun, she didn’t think it was a better option to look.
“With my father, over brunch.” He clarified. “Did he accept your suggestion?”
“I think he did.” Hermione giggled and rolled, landing on her stomach, so she could look at
him better. “So, where should I invest my thousand galleons next year?”
Draco laughed and rolled around as well, knocking his elbow with hers. “You tell me, I will
make sure to send my allowance as well.”
She offered him a smile. He took it as a peace offer. Slowly and carefully, Hermione allowed
it to get to her. They talked for hours, and she found herself laughing more than she normally
would when she noticed the kind of smiles she got out of him with it. When the sun got too
strong, Draco called for one of the elves to verify whether the quality of the water in the lake
was safe for him to swim in or not. Hermione gasped in outrage, and he ignored her when she
told him all the many reasons why he shouldn’t be using an elf for such a thing.
After being certain that it was indeed safe to swim, Draco threw his t-shirt on the grass and
jumped in the water, she refused to join him and in return, got splashed a lot.
Summer in the manor almost seemed unreal for the most part, Hermione didn’t think it was
natural the way the light seemed to shine through Narcissa’s morning room, washing the
entire room with a golden light that made Hermione’s skin glitter, not to mention the dozens
small rainbows the windows created as they caught the sunlight.
They were having breakfast in Narcissa’s morning room per Narcissa’s request that morning
and Hermione and Draco were exchanging glances as Lucius’ shoulders got tenser and
Narcissa’s delicate hands shook slightly as she held the teacup. It got worse when Dipsy
popped in the room with the Prophet in her hand. Narcissa got even paler and Lucius worked
his jaw as he reached for the newspaper. The front cover was a moving picture of a gaunt
man holding a plaque with a series of numbers. In big bold words were the words BREAK
FROM AZKABAN: SIRIUS BLACK THE FIRST WIZARD TO ESCAPE.
“Who is he?” She asked and Narcissa barely hid her flinch.
“Who my dear?”
“The man on the Prophet.” She specified, even though she was certain it was unnecessary.
“The one who escaped Azkaban.”
“His name is Sirius Black,” Narcissa said with a sigh. “He’s—was—my cousin. His mother,
Walburga, was my father’s sister. He was removed from the family when he ran away.”
“How did he escape?” Draco asked, “I thought it was impossible to escape there.”
“No one knows,” Lucius replied. “I got word from the Minister before this,” he motioned the
paper. “Black had been talking to himself for a while, always the same words, ‘he’s at
Hogwarts, he’s at Hogwarts’. They won’t tell this to the public, Fudge is a coward, but they
think Black is after Potter.” He looked at Hermione as he said that.
“Why is he after Harry?” She asked, worry in her voice. Was it possible that Harry wouldn’t
have a single year in peace?
This time it was Narcissa who replied. “People say he murdered thirteen people with a single
curse, including one of his best friends, after telling the Dark Lord where the Potters were
hiding.” She scoffed.
Lucius rolled his eyes at his wife. “You don’t believe it?” Hermione asked.
It took Narcissa a while to reply. “There are a few things that don’t make sense from that
night.” It was Lucius’ turn to scoff, Hermione caught something that sounded like ‘you
would know’ coming from him. “I was never close to Sirius, he’s five years younger than me.
I was a Prefect in Slytherin when he first came to Hogwarts and got sorted into Gryffindor to
the horror of my aunt Walburga. I don’t think I spoke more than a handful of words with him
after he started Hogwarts, I can’t say I knew him.” She told her and Draco, who was also
paying close attention. “But I knew, everyone knew, how close he was with James Potter.
When he ran away at sixteen, it was to the Potters that he went. He lived with the Potters
until he graduated. It makes no sense to me he’d betray James.”
“But if he got sentenced, he’s probably guilty, right? The Wizengamont had to trial him.”
“There was no trial. He was found at the crime scene, he was laughing, there was a giant
explosion and twelve dead muggles around him. Peter Pettigrew, another friend of Sirius, was
there and the Aurors only managed to find his little finger.” Hermione shuddered. “They took
him straight to Azkaban, where he stayed for these past thirteen years.”
Narcissa gave another sigh and exchanged a long look with Lucius. He gave her a curt nod
and resumed his reading on the paper, she caught him scratching his left arm absentmindedly.
Hermione took a sip of her tea. “If Sirius Black betrayed the Potters and joined Voldemort—”
“Don’t say his name dear,” Narcissa said.
“—You-Know-Who’s followers would know, wouldn’t they?” she asked and turned to
Lucius, making sure she had an innocent expression on her face. “It’s not like we can ask one
of them.”
Lucius folded the paper, the same movement from the previous day. She felt deja-vu as the
same snake-like smirk and venomous scoff escaped from his lips. “It would be much easier,
wouldn’t it? If they had asked one?”
Narcissa seemed to have had enough. “It’s a lovely day to stay inside.” She said. “Draco,
Hermione, why don’t you two go explore the gardens? Certainly, there is something the pair
of you can do.”
Hermione knew a dismissal and nodded. Draco nodded as well and they both rose and left the
Morning Room. But instead of going to the gardens, they decided to escape from the sun and
sit in one of the greenhouses.
“You shouldn’t try him like that,” Draco said as he plucked twigs from one of the vases.
“And you shouldn’t be doing that.” She snapped and batted his hand away, he scowled. “But
he’d known, wouldn’t he?” Hermione asked him.
“Do you want me to confess?” He asked with an eyebrow raised.
“It’s not like I need it, not after last year.”
“They couldn’t find anything on him,” Draco said, defending his father.
“Draco—”
“No, Hermione. You won’t get a confession from me. You are so smart, go find out for
yourself, try his hand again if you dare.”
“I dare.” She told him, “You know as well as I do, he won’t do anything to me.” Hermione
said. She knew that even if she didn’t understand why. Narcissa’s affection for her was
stronger than any hatred Lucius had for Hermione’s kind.
Draco snorted. “Merlin,” he shook his head and finally left the poor plant alone, coming close
to her. Hermione had to look up when he stopped, very close, way more than it was
necessary. “He likes you,” Draco said and she knew he was trying to understand the same
thing she was.
Hermione smirked, lest she showed him she was confused about that. “You thought he’d hate
me.”
Draco got even closer, why on earth was he so close? And why did he get so tall? “Before I
met you, I had all these ideas about what muggle-borns looked like, I admit, it wasn’t very
different from a hag.” He glanced at her hair and she glared at him. “I’ve never stepped foot
in muggle London, I have no idea what’s out there. My father hates them, Hermione,
absolutely hates them. Father believes they aren’t worth more than the dirt on our shoes,
under our nails—” he raised his hand to her face, showing her the dirt on his fingertips from
bullying that plant. He flicked it away and both watched it land on her shirt. She held her
breath when he reached over her breast, almost on her collarbone, and cleaned the dirt off her.
“He hates that muggle-borns have jobs in the ministry. He thinks Hogwarts shouldn’t teach
muggle-borns, but you—” he shook his head and Hermione released the breath she was
holding, “You got him to write me a letter demanding that I kept a close look on you last
year.”
Hermione gasped. An elf popped right then, and they sprang apart. “Sorry to interrupt master
Draco,” the elf squeaked, “Your tutor has arrived.” Draco groaned.
“I hoped she’d forget this year,” he said and followed the elf.
With Draco gone for the rest of the morning, she found her way to the library to pass the
time. She knew he’d have a break at lunchtime and an elf would pop to call her when it was
time.
She was browsing the letter B, trying to find something to start reading on the Black Family.
There were dozens of books about the family and she picked one that looked more
contemporary. The one in her hand was called The Mighty After Their Almighty and it had
been published after the war. By reading its back cover she doubted the book talked pleasant
things about the House of Black. She loved that Narcissa had it anyway. Hermione took the
book to her favourite armchair in the library and allowed herself to get lost in her reading.
Draco was the last heir of the Black family, she found out as she read. Sirius had been
sentenced to life and his younger brother died mysteriously at eighteen. Narcissa had two
sisters, both older and both estranged from her, in different ways. The oldest sister was in
Azkaban after confessing to being Voldemort’s loyal servant and proudly at that, as the writer
wrote. Narcissa’s other sister had been burned from the family for marrying a muggle!
Hermione’s eyes had widened at that piece of information, and she wondered if any of
Narcissa’s behaviour had to do with some sort of guilt towards her sister being removed from
the family.
Hermione was so engrossed in her reading that she didn’t hear the door opening and almost
jumped when Lucius spoke, “do you mind if I sit?” She shook her head. “Apparently, I have
to ask now,” he told her, “I was informed that you were in here, and my wife seems to believe
you shouldn’t be bothered in the library since you love it so much.”
“It’s your house.” She said stupidly.

“Well, thank you, I was confused for a second.” He replied and finally took notice of the
book in her hand. “Research?”
“Curiosity.”
Lucius made a face, “My Cissy is by far the best of them.” He said proudly, “It’s quite
fortunate that Cygnus lived very far when alive and that I don’t have to deal with any of her
sisters.”
“Well, not if escaping Azkaban becomes a family business.” She said.
“Read that far already, have you?” He asked, if Lucius Malfoy could look impressed by
anything, she’d think he was, but as it was, she knew it could hardly be anything other than
slight disdain. “No one wants that one out of there, believe me, especially you, she’s not very
fond of people like you.”
“Neither are you.”
He smirked. “We had our differences—”
“The book you slipped inside Ginny Weasley’s cauldron almost killed me.”
“That’s a lot of dangerous words in the same sentence. And did it really?” He asked, with an
eyebrow raised. “Draco told me you were always walking around the castle by yourself,
almost daring the creature to find you. All these many chances and only being attacked when
there was another muggle-born with you.” Lucius shrugged, “Maybe the creature could smell
two better than one.”
It was her turn to shrug. “It was the Basilisk loss. If it had found me sooner, I wouldn’t have
had the time to learn all about it and then Harry wouldn’t have been able to destroy it.”
“Indeed.” He nodded. “Potter is a hero. Killing the creature, destroying the diary, freeing my
house-elf.”
“You should treat them better Mr Malfoy.” She said, barely hiding her anger at the memory
of Dobby wrapped in gauze. “They are magically bound to obey you, but Dobby found
enough loopholes to tell Harry enough, you wouldn’t want any other elf spilling your secrets
around, would you?”
He smiled, cold and terrible as most of his smiles. “You should call me Uncle.” He told her
and got up from his chair, wiping invisible dirt from his pristine robes. “The liberty you have
in my property, with my affairs, certainly Mr Malfoy seems too formal. Not to mention, we
are soon to be business partners.” Without waiting for her reply, he nodded and left the
library. Leaving Hermione certain that he had only come in the first place with the sole
intention of antagonising her.
Again, summer in the manor seemed unreal. Almost as unreal as Lucius Malfoy’s existence.
One evening, when the heat had finally given them a bit of peace, Lucius called for Draco for
a ride on one of the winged horses and Hermione watched from the ground with Narcissa, as
father and son flew around the manor, hair as white as the Abraxans they rode. They landed
with matching expressions of contentment and Narcissa rose to wipe the sweat from Lucius'
temple and place a kiss on his cheek, he returned the gesture with another kiss and Hermione
watched the couple leave the gardens hand in hand and smiling at each other. Watching them,
it was difficult to conciliate the Lucius Malfoy who was evil and planned for death with the
loving husband and father.
Hermione laughed herself hoarse when Draco tried to open their book on magical creatures
and the book literally tried to attack him. Draco had shrieked and ran around his room,
yelling, begging her to make it stop. Hermione had jumped on the bed at once and couldn’t
stop laughing for long enough to help him. In the end, Lucius and Narcissa had come barging
and they had to petrify the book and hold it close with a rope. Hermione chuckled for hours
afterwards, not even Draco’s threats of turning the book on her would make her stop. She told
him she’d use that little spectacle if he stepped a foot out of line that year.
When she wrote to Harry on his birthday, she kept the information about where she was
staying out of the letter. She didn’t have enough to explain why she had forgiven Draco,
Hermione couldn’t begin to explain why she’d agreed to stay at the Manor.
Unlike last summer, the others didn’t come. She knew Daphne was still in France and that
Pansy was now back in London. They didn’t have any news on Theo, who didn’t write nor
reply to their letters. Blaise was busy with his mother’s wedding and he too hadn’t had any
news on Theo.
“He does that sometimes,” Draco said one day when they were at the library, piles of books
around them. “Shut us off, gets all broody.”
“But do you think he’s all right?” she asked, “maybe his father—”
“I don’t know Granger; I can send my elf to check on him if you want to know that much. He
won’t write us back.”
“I—” She got cut off, as something outside caught her eye. “He's Pansy’s father, isn’t he?”
Draco leaned over her to look, “yes, it’s him. What’s he doing here? Mother didn’t say
anything about a visit.”
“Let’s find out.” She said with a grin and he soon matched it.
They left the library and ran silently down the hall, slipping through the empty music room
and darting from column to column to not be seen as they followed Draco’s father and
Pansy’s father to Lucius’ office.
They waited for the door to close and quietly moved to the door, pressing their ears against
the door.
“I must admit, Lucius.” They heard Mr Parkinson say, “I was surprised when I saw your owl.
I expect a similar one found the Grengrasses?”
“They are growing up, Kieran. Draco’s my only heir. Cissy has many ideas and I’d prefer if
she didn’t entertain her latest one.” Lucius replied. “Our families are the strongest at the
moment, it should be well to join them.” Draco tensed and pulled back from the wall.
“What?” Hermione asked, mouthing the word.
He shook his head and pulled her with him. Draco kept silent all the way back to his room
where he almost pulled the door out of its hinges with the force he used to close it. He paced
the length of the room.
“Draco, what’s wrong?”
“My mother said they wouldn’t. She said he wouldn’t—” he made an annoyed sound and
Hermione realised it with a pang: Draco was trying not to cry. She reached for him, grabbing
hold of his wrist, he whirled, and she never saw such tempest in his eyes. Not for the first
time, Hermione thought that defeat didn’t suit him. “He was talking about betrothals.” He
told her and watched her hand on his wrist for a moment before pulling it away. “My father
has sent both Mr Parkinson and Mr Greengrass betrothals agreements.”
“Do you mean—”
“Marriage, Hermione.” He snarled. “Father is sending out owls for the best families out there
with daughters, seeing who will sell their daughter for the best price.”
She felt her heart tumbling out of her chest and hitting the floor with a thud, the space left felt
too heavy, she wasn’t certain she’d manage to pick it up without the weight dragging her
down. “Are you going to marry Pansy?” She blurted and felt herself blushing immediately.
Hermione knew exactly what this insecurity flowing off her meant.
It did little to ease her pain when he made a disgruntled face. “Mother told me they wouldn’t
—that this wasn’t how they’d—I don’t want to marry Pansy.” He complained and sat down
on the edge of his bed.
“Can’t you talk to him?” Even as she asked, she knew it was a silly question. Draco scoffed.
“You said your mother wouldn’t, maybe he’s doing it without her knowing, maybe you can
talk to her. Aunt Cissy is the only one that can get your father to listen.”
Draco nodded and with a sigh, he rolled his shoulders and turned to her. “What should we do
this afternoon?” he asked, changing the subject.
They didn’t return to that topic and they both pretended to not see Mr Parkinson and Mr
Greengrass visiting. Draco and Hermione enjoyed the rest of the summer as much as they
could with everything that wasn’t being said during dinners. Hermione noticed how every
new information about Sirius Black had Aunt Cissy tensing and worrying. Hermione saw
Narcissa staring out of the window for long hours, almost as she was expecting him to simply
appear on the grounds.
During that summer, Hermione learned more about the Black Family tapestry. Hermione
caught Narcissa staring at Sirius Black’s burned picture and approached her. Hermione
looked at the burned picture over Andromeda Black. There was nothing beside or under
Narcissa’s sister's name, only a dark patch of woven fabric as if darkness had touched
everything around her.
“There’s a matching tapestry at my aunt Walburga’s house. I guess it’s Sirius now, the house I
mean.”
“Do you think he went there? To hide?”
“I doubt it. He hated that place.” She told her, “Which is terribly sad. Grimmauld Place is a
very beautiful house.” Hermione saw that Narcissa was now looking at the burned picture of
her sister. With a sigh, Narcissa added, "When I married Lucius, I told him I would not accept
a man that made his children fear him. I made him promise that our house would always be a
home for them.”
It didn’t tell much, but Hermione had learned how to make do with pieces of information that
the Malfoys liked to exchange. This bit of information, for example, let Hermione know that
Andromeda, possibly Narcissa too, feared their parents and felt unsafe in their house.
A few days later, Hermione once again caught Narcissa behaving uncharacteristically, this
time she was burning a letter in the fireplace and muttering variants of ‘that old fool’ and
‘should be sent to a grave’ that left Hermione wondering whom she was wishing dead.
By the end of August, Hermione received a letter from Professor McGonagall with an
invitation for tea first thing upon arrival. She spent the last days before their trip to Diagon
Alley wondering about what the professor would like to talk about and driving Draco crazy
with her ideas. When he suggested they read on their elective subjects she knew it was his
method of distracting her but was too anxious to care.
On the day before they had to go to King Cross, she and Draco found themselves talking
about his family and Draco told her that he had never met either of his mother’s sisters nor
his father’s brother.
“Your father has a brother?” She had asked, shocked.
“Yes, and his daughter, my cousin, is in Hogwarts already, she’s one year younger than us.”
“Do you know her name?”
“No, my father never talks about him. I found out that he had a brother a couple of years ago
when the news of his wife’s death came out and the elves weren’t fast enough to hide The
Prophet. Rita Skeeter was wondering if my father would be present.” Draco said. Hermione
didn’t have to ask whether or not Lucius Malfoy had attended the funeral. “He simply
pretends that his brother doesn’t exist. I only know I have a cousin because there was a
picture of her beside her father. They don’t use the Malfoy name, of course, he uses his wife’s
name, but I think I know who she is, it’s the—” he stopped, and Hermione saw his cheeks
reddening.
Hermione giggled. “The hair.” She said, “the Malfoy hair,”

“Shut up.” He mumbled and shoved her playfully.
Narcissa found them shoving each other and after a clear look of disapproval, they pulled
apart. As mature as ever, Draco showed his tongue at her behind his mother’s back.
“Is everything packed?” She asked them and Hermione caught Narcissa glancing at Draco’s
socked feet on the arm of the sofa. “Draco, sit straight. That sofa is from the sixteenth
century, could you please show some respect.”
Hermione had to bite down on her lower lip to keep from grinning at how Draco quickly sat
straight, postured like a lord. “Yes, mother.” He replied. “Everything is ready.”
“Good.” She nodded. “We will be leaving early before it’s too crowded.”
Severus learned about Sirius Black's escape in a private meeting alongside Dumbledore,
McGonagall and Minister Fudge. The minister believed Black would come to Hogwarts after
Potter and a long and boring discussion about whether or not the Dementors would be
protecting the school stole at least three hours of his well-deserved summer break. Neither
Dumbledore nor McGonagall wanted the creatures near the children, Severus wasn’t exactly
partial to the idea, but he decided to stay quiet, there were too many people arguing already
and he knew that Dumbledore always did what he intended. It took hours and in the end, the
creatures would protect the grounds, but they weren’t to get close to the castle or the students.
Fudge left and Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled. “Well, this solves our vacancy problem.”
“What do you mean?” Minerva asked. Severus knew he’d hate whatever the headmaster was
thinking just by the smile he had.
“With Sirius Black out there and probably coming to Hogwarts, who’s better to teach
Defence Against the Dark Arts than Remus?”
“No.” Severus hissed.
“You can’t be serious,” Minerva breathed, “Albus!” It was close to a shriek, “They—they
were together.”
Sometimes Severus thought that the headmaster loved to see things getting out of control.
“Not to mention his furry problem,” Severus said.
“He can use the Shrieking Shack as he used before,” Dumbledore said as if it was the
smallest of his worries. “You can brew Wolfsbane for him to help with his transformations,”
Severus already did that, not that he would ever tell Albus. “And give his classes if he feels
too worn out to teach afterwards.”
“Splendid,” he muttered.
“You are serious,” Minerva said. “What can we possibly gain from bringing Remus to the
castle? Didn’t he suffer enough?” Severus could see tears forming in her eyes. Remus still
was one of her favourites. He tried not to scowl.
“He will keep an eye on Harry,” Dumbledore said. “Remus, just like Sirius, knows every
hidden passage in the castle. He knows Sirius and understands him—” Severus scoffed at
that.
“Please,” He said. “The last thing we should do is put the two of them in the same place. The
Minister already thinks Black will try to come here, with Lupin here, Black certainly will.”
“The three of them,” Dumbledore said, Severus wanted to knock those ridiculous half-moon
spectacles out of his face.
“Not this again,” Minerva said, to Severus’ surprise. “The girl was attacked last year, by an
ancient creature that targeted muggle-borns.”
“We will have our answer, once and for all,” Albus said clearly dismissing McGonagall’s
point. “We can give him that at least, for someone who lost so much, we can give him the
chance to look after the two.”
“The castle is not the place to discuss relationship problems.” Severus hissed. “Black
betrayed the Potters, betrayed them all. Remus spent the last thirteen years alone and you
want to put on his shoulders the responsibility of protecting the kids from his ex?” He
snarled. Severus knew he had said too much when even Minerva was gaping at him. He
scowled.
“It is time,” Dumbledore said, looking away from them. “Thirteen years is a long time.”
Minerva huffed exasperatedly and turned to Severus for help, Severus only held her stare, he
had said enough. She huffed again and glared at him. “Very well.”
The Transfiguration teacher almost stomped out of the Headmaster’s office, leaving Severus
to deal with the headmaster. Albus asked, “Can I count on you to brew his wolfsbane and
teach in his place in case it’s necessary?” Severus nodded. “People can’t know of his
affliction Severus, as I’ve said before.”
Severus glared. He remembered perfectly well how Dumbledore made him swear he
wouldn’t tell anyone of what had happened. Severus wasn’t completely conscious after being
almost killed by the wolf and saved by Potter who had to drag his bleeding body away.
“Is that all?” He asked. “Or do I have to give him the news of employment as well?”
Dumbledore grinned as if Severus had the most amazing idea and wasn’t actually being
sarcastic. “That would be helpful,” Albus said and waved his wand in the air and a piece of
parchment appeared, with another wave, the parchment was filled in the headmaster’s
handwriting. “His letter of invitation.”
Albus certainly didn’t pay him enough.
He didn’t go straight away; Severus was still on his summer holidays and he wouldn’t be
running errands in the middle of July.
Severus knew his daughter was safe; that besides her perfect grades, the colours of her
uniform and the incidents from the previous years, there were no whispers of her being the
Missing Sister beyond the staff room and one particularly observant student. There was no
reason for Sirius Black to go after her.
It took him two weeks to finally show up at Lupin’s door, he’d have preferred to go halfway
through August, but if Remus refused the invitation, Severus knew Dumbledore would have
to find another substitute for the position.
There was a crazed look on the man’s face when he opened the door, he had his wand in his
hand and Severus saw disappointment crossing the man’s features when he saw that it was
Severus, it was brief, but it was there. “Expecting someone else?” Severus drawled.
Remus looked outside for a while longer before closing the door. “He hasn’t come.”
“Do you think he will?”
Remus gave a deprecatingly laugh. “If you had come yesterday, you would have found me
yelling at a stray dog.”
“Completely out of mind, it does seem to be one of the required qualifications,” Severus said
and thrust him the letter.
“What’s this?” Remus asked, looking at the Hogwarts seal.
“Congratulations, you are employed,” Severus said sarcastically.
Remus’ eyes widened and almost tore the envelope apart in his haste to open it. He saw the
man scanning the contents of the letter and surprise coloured his features. “Is this serious?
Dumbledore wants me for the job?”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” Severus scowled, “there’s more to do with your relationship with
Black and the kids than your skills in the Dark Arts.” It was telling how far-gone Remus was
that he didn’t even blanch at the name when normally it would only take the slight
implication of Black to make Remus bare his teeth.
“What?”
“They say he’s after the boy, that he kept mumbling to himself ‘he’s in Hogwarts, he’s in
Hogwarts’ before his escape. Dumbledore wants you there in case Black comes to the castle.”
He said and this time he watched the man react to the name. “There isn’t a passage in the
castle that he knows, and you don’t. And more importantly, Dumbledore believes that with
you there, he will certainly try to come to the castle.”
Remus scowled. “Dumbledore wants me to be between the kids and him, that’s it?”
Severus advanced on him. “Are you going to be between them?” Severus hissed.
They weren’t close in height, Remus towered over him. For sure, it didn’t have the intended
reaction. Remus snarled back at his face. “He killed James and Lily.”
“Make sure to remember that when you have your reunion.”
“I can’t seem to forget,” Remus replied, shoulders sagging.
“Dumbledore will ask you about Hermione.”
“Finally.” Remus scoffed. “It took him long enough. I’m surprised he didn’t come here
himself.”
Severus wasn’t about to tell him that he had almost as good as offered. “You can’t lie to him.”
Remus rolled his eyes, “I might not be a master in Occlumency as you and Narcissa, but I
think I can keep that from him.”
“No,” he shook his head. “I’m telling you not to lie,” Severus said, even though he felt sand
clogging his throat. He was about to let go of one of the most important secrets of his life.
His hands curled in fists. “If you tell him that it’s not her, it will only raise suspicion when he
ultimately proves who she is.”
“Are you certain? This is what we kept from him all this time.”
“She got petrified last year and it wasn’t enough to convince him otherwise. I know he’s
getting anxious; I dread what he might do to her to find out. I don’t want him putting her into
any sort of trial as he has been doing with the boy.”
“All right.” Remus nodded. “Do I tell her?” Severus bristled.
He knew this lie was coming to an end, he knew that with Black out there, their farce was
hanging by threads. Black would come for Harry and Severus did not doubt that he’d find
Hermione, as she simply was beside her brother in every dangerous situation. Black had
known Lily and even though the girl didn’t physically look like her mother, all the
mannerisms were there, Hermione even talked like Lily sometimes. It felt like a joke, that
despite everything they did, they couldn’t completely wash Lily from Hermione. Severus
should have expected it, Lily had always been too stubborn.
There was also Dumbledore, who was watching, always closely watching. Dumbledore
thought he was being smooth, putting Harry under the roof of his most loyal Order members
and he knew it was only a matter of time until the invitation was extended to Hermione.
Narcissa kept sheltering Hermione not only because she loved the girl, but part of it was
because they knew it kept her from the Weasleys.
“Severus?” Remus asked and Severus realised that he had been on his mind for far too long.
“Only if there’s no other choice.” He said and ignored how it felt like he was handing her to
danger. “And keep me a secret still.” Severus snarled at the pitying look Remus gave him. He
refused to be pitied by Remus, of all people.
“We knew this day would come,” Remus said, sitting on his terrible excuse of a couch,
holding the letter tightly in his hand.
“Do you think she will forgive me?” Severus asked. “She’s brilliant, sometimes I wish she
wasn’t so bloody intelligent because she will know. Maybe not the entire truth, but it will
take her no time to realise that the missing sister was in fact hidden and not missing.”
Remus sighed. “Isn’t that what Narcissa is doing? I do not doubt that Narcissa is slowly but
surely ingraining the Slytherin values on her. When the time comes, Hermione will
understand, because she will know that family, for Slytherin, means doing anything to keep
each other safe.”
Chapter End Notes
The title and the quotes at the beginning belong to Ready to Run by One Direction.
Updates come on fridays. Follow me on instagram camilajvnskt and twitter moonyhoax

if you'd like
a mighty ocean or a gentle kiss
Chapter Notes
TW: ABUSE/VIOLENCE
Mentions of domestic violence, please read at your discretion.
If you want to skip the TW part, it begins when they enter the train back to Hogwarts, at
"Blaise pushed his way through and tried the door, which didn’t budge..." and goes up to
"“What changed?” Blaise asked."
A few excerpts were taken from Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, they don't
belong to me, they belong to the original author of the story.
It's okay if you can't catch your breath

You can take the oxygen straight out of my own chest
Chapter Fourteen
King's Cross Station, September 1st, 1993
“Are you certain this is a cat?” Pansy asked as Hermione showed Crookshanks to her as they
waited at the platform.
“It isn’t,” Draco muttered under his breath; Hermione pretended to not hear.
“It is,” Hermione said proudly.
“It looks grumpy and squashed, what happened to him?” Pansy asked. “Did it run headlong
into a brick wall?”
“Nothing happened to him.” Hermione hissed.
“I thought you were going to buy an owl,” Blaise said when he found them. They had agreed
to wait for each other before getting on the train. They were still waiting on Theo and
Daphne.
“I was.” She said with a shrug, “but then I saw it and I had to get it.”
“It might be bloody ugly but the first thing it did was to try to eat Weasley’s stupid rat, so I
think it’s pretty fine,” Draco said in a somewhat supportive way.
“Was your father okay with it?” Blaise asked, “I thought he wasn’t a fan of creatures that he
couldn’t order it around.”
Hermione managed to hide a smirk by pressing her face against the cat’s thick fur.
“He doesn’t know.” Draco said, “she hid it in her room.” Her room. This time it was her
blush that she hid. It always made something untwist in her stomach when she heard him
casually calling it hers.
Maybe it really had become hers, as she even got to leave things there now.
“What is that?” They heard Daphne’s high-pitched squeal and they all turned to see the
blonde coming in their direction, a smaller, brunette version of Daphne was tagging along.
“Hermione’s new cat,” Pansy replied with a curled nose and in a tone that everyone knew she
thought the thing in Hermione’s arms was anything but.
“Well, it certainly doesn’t look like it.” She said with a shrug and pointed at her sister.
“Everyone, this is Astoria, she’s going to Hogwarts this year.”
They all said their hellos and Hermione didn’t miss the way the girl eyed Draco up and down,
Blaise surely saw it as well as he knocked elbows with her and smirked.
They all updated each other on their summers, and they all got an earful of Milli’s rant about
how awful the United States was and how the only thing that made it worth it was how
completely separate they were from the muggles.
“They are so stupid,” Pansy said, “They call muggles No-Maj.” She said it with a shudder.
“You sure seem suited for Hollywood, Pans,” Blaise said with a snigger.
“And what in Merlin’s name is that?”
Hermione snorted. “It’s a neighbourhood in Los Angeles, it’s famous for being one of the
biggest film industries in the world.” She explained and she knew that more than one word
had gone over their head. She was about to explain it further when the train began whistling
and everyone began hurrying inside.
“Where’s Theo?” Daphne asked. “It’s not like him to be late.”
“Maybe he went ahead.”
“But in the letter—”
Draco scoffed, “as if he replied to any of those.”
“Let’s go then, we will find him inside,” Hermione said and they all nodded.
The train was already quite packed, with most of its compartments full or halfway there. She
only hoped Vince and Greg had managed to save them all seats. They passed through two
cars before they spotted the lone figure of Theodore Nott. He was hunched on his side and his
face was almost glued to the window, completely hidden from view from the outside. There
was something unnatural about the way he was sitting, and Hermione felt her heart twist.
Blaise pushed his way through and tried the door, which didn’t budge, Theo had locked it.
She was certain now that something was wrong. “Open up, Theo,” Blaise called and tried the
door again. Theo ignored him.
Hermione stepped forward and pulled her wand out. “Alohomora!” She cast and the door
unlocked in front of her. Theo flinched at the sound and whirled around. They all gasped at
the sight of him. Theo’s left eye was swollen and all around his left eye was purple and
yellowish marks, his nose had been clearly broken and was now healing all wrong, his cheek
was also swollen, and his lip cut.
“For fucks’ sake Hermione!” Theo snarled and flinched at the movement.
Blaise charged immediately and dropped to his knees in front of the bruised boy. She
watched as Blaise carefully held Theo’s face in his hands, inspecting it. “I’m going to kill
him,” Blaise said, no, promised.
Hermione, with tears in her eyes, turned around to face the others. Daphne was silently
crying and the only thing keeping her from charging inside the compartment was her little
sister, who had been hidden away from view. “Go find the others,” she told them, “I will try
to heal a bit of his face and I will find you guys.”
“But—” Pansy argued.
“Please.” Hermione cut her off. She knew Theo would hate for all of them to be there now,
she was worried he’d hate her for opening the door.
Draco nodded and pushed Pansy in front of him, who even after tripping, didn’t say anything.
Hermione waited for them to go before closing and locking the door again. She pulled the
curtain down and realised that Theo probably hadn’t done it due to the pain.
She put her cat on the other couch and sat down next to Theo and gingerly reached for one of
his hands, tangling their fingers, he gave it a little squeeze. Blaise was still examining the
boy’s face and Hermione felt new tears pooling at the sight of his careful fingers over Theo’s
cheeks.
“Can you fix it?” Blaise asked, his eyes not leaving Theo.
Hermione nodded. “Yes,” she said, her voice small, choked up.
Theo squeezed her hand again. “Don’t cry Granger,” he said and turned to face her, he
offered her a small smile that only made her cry more. “It adds to my bad-boy persona.”
“Shut up,” Blaise hissed. Hermione noticed Theo’s other hand was now wrapped in both of
Blaise’s. “It ruined your perfect nose.” Blaise snarled and Hermione let out a burst of choked-
up laughter.
“I can fix that.” She said and wiped her eyes, if Theo was smiling and cracking jokes, she
wouldn’t cry. She vowed to help Blaise keep his promise.
“Please,” Theo asked her, and Blaise exchanged places with Hermione so Theo wouldn’t
have to turn to properly face her.
“It might hurt a little, the bone is already healing and—”
“I’m no stranger to pain Granger, please just do it.”
She nodded again and positioned her wand. “Episkey!” Theo hissed a bit and then gingerly
touched it, she smiled when she saw it was now back to normal. Blaise reached for Theo’s
face to inspect it and after deeming it in order, gave an appreciative nod. “Your lip is also
healed.” She told him and Theo touched it to feel.
“It felt really hot and then really cold. It has also stopped hurting.” He said and moved to lean
back on the couch, he tried to contain his hiss but both Blaise and Hermione caught it
anyway.
“Where else, Theo?” She asked.
“It’s fine—”
“Where else?” Blaise asked, his voice much angrier than his face showed.
Theo looked down on his chest and pointed to his side with his eyes. “Can I?” She asked and
the boy gave her a nod.
Hermione reached for his shirt, taking great care to not bump on any part of him that might
cause him pain as the train moved. She pulled the fabric up a bit and she could already see
that the purple bruises on his face were also on his side. Blaise helped and held his shirt up
and Theo bit his newly healed lip and fisted his hands when she touched his bruises with
delicate fingers.
“I didn’t imagine that the first girl to touch my chest would be like this.” He said through his
nose and Blaise scoffed next to him.
“I doubted you imagined it at all,” Blaise muttered and Theo laughed. He hissed in pain right
after.
“Shut up the two of you.” She said with a snarl. “I don’t know how to cast a diagnosis charm
to see if it’s broken or not—”
“It is,” Theo said. “The elf said it was.”
“And it didn’t heal you, why?” Blaise asked, again, furious.
“My father forbade it from doing so.”

Hermione felt Blaise’s anger consuming her. “I can heal it. I know the spell, but I never tried
it before.” She said with barely constrained anger.
Theo smirked at her, “I trust you with my life, Hermione.”
“That’s a tad dramatic, isn’t it?” She asked, but he had a smile on her face, and she knew that
she too, trusted him with her life.
“Brackium Emendo!” She cast and again Theo hissed, but soon after he let out a big breath
and almost collapsed on Blaise. Hermione couldn’t imagine the amount of pain he was in.
She raised from her knees and sat down on the couch in front of them. Theo didn’t seem to be
in pain anymore, but Blaise still held his hand on his lap. “Why?” Hermione asked.
He sighed. “This is not new. He just never kept the elves from healing me. And since I began
Hogwarts, I’ve been away from the Estate most of the time, going with Blaise for summer or
staying at Draco’s, so he had fewer opportunities in these past couple of years, not that I
didn’t have the shit beaten out of me since starting Hogwarts, because I had, but he usually
stopped when the time to return neared, so no one would see it.” He explained. “I knew
something was different when I saw him at the platform when we returned, he took me
straight to the Estate and locked me in my room. I know you wrote, all of you did, the elves
told me, but they were also told to keep all of it from me.”
“What changed?” Blaise asked.
“Honestly? I lost count of the reasons. It started with him blaming me for the failure of last
year. He got word of me—” he stopped mid-sentence and looked at her. Hermione sucked in
a breath.
She had announced to the entire house how it was Theo who helped her solve everything.
Certainly, someone had told their father, who then told Mr Nott.
“Stop,” Theo told her. “Whatever you are thinking, just stop it.” His face was hard and with
all the purple around it, he looked even meaner.
“But it’s my—”
“No, it isn’t.” He told her forcefully. “It’s no one’s fault but his. He’s been hitting me since I
learned how to walk, he’d have found some other reason to do it. It’s not your fault Granger.”
“And if we were to blame someone other than him, it would be the bastard with a loose
tongue in our house.” Blaise snarled.
“And as I said, it wasn’t the only reason.” Theo continued, “They are planning something—
the Death Eaters. They are all antsy now that Black has escaped, half-scared that it means the
Dark Lord is coming back, half-scared he’s going to kill them when he returns because
they’ve been sitting on their asses all these years.”
“But why did Black’s escape make them antsy?” Hermione asked, she wanted every piece of
information on the man that wanted to kill Harry.
“Because no one knew he was a Death Eater and suddenly he was the one who led the Dark
Lord to the Potters and killed twelve muggles out of nowhere. They think he’s still working
for their Lord and he has something planned, now that he’s escaped.”
Harry. Hermione thought that’s what he has planned.
“But it has nothing to do with you.” Blaise snarled.
“Of course, it doesn't.” Theo snorted, “That’s why it’s called abuse. He just takes it out on
me. There’s that and there’s also the fact that this summer the ministry kept raiding the Estate
and removed hundreds of Dark Artefacts from there.”
“You are not going back there,” Blaise vowed. “My mother will have an elf pick your stuff
and you won’t return there.”
“Blaise—”
“You can save it. I don’t care.”
Hermione looked between the two of them and decided it was time to leave. Theo was healed
—he wasn’t in pain anymore, and Blaise would kill anyone who even looked at Theo wrong.
“I will find the others.” She said and rose.
“Thank you, Hermione,” Theo said again and she smiled at him. She walked up to where
they were sitting and pressed a kiss to his temple.
I love you, she thought. I will protect you. “You are my best friend.”
“Hey!” Hermione turned to Blaise who had whined, and Hermione pressed a kiss to his
cheek. “What about me?”
“He’s wounded.” She said and Theo snorted.
“I’m wounded now.” Blaise retorted and they all laughed.
“Have you forgiven him?” Theo asked her.
“Who?”
“Draco.”
“We are working on it.” She told him and he nodded.
“Make him sweat, Granger.”
Picking up Crookshanks, Hermione left them, but instead of going to find the others, she
went to find Harry. She knew they’d want answers, and she didn’t want to be the one to tell.
She found him in a compartment with Ron and a sleeping man. “Hey,” she greeted, and Harry
smiled upon seeing her. He completely cut off whatever Ron was saying to talk to her, and
Ron barely managed to hide his scowl.
“I need to tell you something.” He said and pulled her by the wrist to sit next to him.
The next hour was spent with Harry retelling everything that happened to him during
summer. Hermione was still angry with what had happened with Theo that she felt ready to
hex another friend’s family member. Why did Harry keep going back to that place? She knew
he had enough money to rent a room in Diagon Alley and stay there for the summer and
instead, he always returned on September 1st looking like he skipped at least a dozen of
meals.
His aunt getting blown up was just a piece of what she deserved.
Harry then told her – and Ron, he was waiting for her to tell them both, to Ron’s chagrin –
about what he heard from Mr Weasley, that Black was after him, that he escaped because he
wanted to go after him. Hermione gasped all in the right parts and asked the questions she
knew they expected her to ask if this was her first time hearing it.
Hermione didn’t tell them that she learned it from the Malfoys. She still hadn’t told them
about her stay at the Manor. She thought back on Aunt Cissy’s strange behaviour, the way
she’d just stare out of the window for hours or would stand in front of Black’s burned face on
the Black Family’s tapestry.
Harry didn’t seem to know the fact that Black and his parents were friends. That piece of
information must have escaped Mr Weasley, but it couldn’t have escaped Harry’s aunt.
Hermione heard that the news of Black’s escape had even appeared on the muggle news, so
why hadn’t his Aunt Petunia said anything to Harry? She would have known one of her
sister’s best friends, wouldn’t she?
Why were Harry’s relatives so horrible?
She would tell him, he deserved to know, but not on the train back to Hogwarts.
When the Trolley Lady passed and the new Professor still showed no signs of waking up,
they steered the conversation to Hogsmeade and Hermione tried to start a conversation with
Ron about its famous place and historical importance, but he completely ignored her, being
more interested in a silly candy store. He could get diabetes for all she cared. Hermione
huffed.
Hermione managed to get a few hours nap in the afternoon because she remembered falling
asleep on Harry’s shoulder shortly after three and when she woke up, darkness had fallen
upon them.
Ron, to Hermione’s annoyance, shrieked when she unlocked Crookshanks from his cage and
almost woke their professor up. “It’s been hours! I’m not letting him in the cage any longer!”
She said and let the cat out.
Crookshanks merely hissed at Ron’s top pocket and settled himself on an empty seat, but kept
his eyes glued to the pocket.
Draco and his cronies, of course, stopped by and Hermione sighed in anticipation. It would
be his first opportunity to prove himself.
“Well, look who it is,” said Draco, with his annoying and theatrical lazy drawl. “Potty and the
Weasel.” Vince and Greg chuckled behind him, Hermione rolled her eyes and removed a
book from her bag. It wasn’t looking good for him. “I heard your father finally got his hands
on some gold this summer, Weasley,” he said. “Did your mother die of shock?”
Ron stood up so quickly he knocked Crookshanks’ basket to the floor. Hermione glared at his
back. Professor Lupin gave a snort.
“Who’s that?” Draco asked, taking an automatic step backward as he spotted Lupin.
“New teacher,” said Harry, who got to his feet too. “What were you saying, Malfoy?”
Draco’s pale eyes narrowed; Hermione hid her smirk on her pages, she knew he wasn’t
enough of a fool to pick a fight right under a teacher’s nose.
“C’mon,” he muttered resentfully to the boys and turned to her, to Hermione’s enormous
surprise. He usually ignored her presence when she was with Harry. It seemed he had
learned, after all. “Is he okay?” Draco asked her.
“Yeah, he is.” She replied and he nodded and then they disappeared.
Harry and Ron sat down again, Ron massaging his knuckles.
“I’m not going to take any crap from Malfoy this year,” Ron said angrily. “I mean it. If he
makes one more crack about my family, I’m going to get hold of his head and—” Ron made a
violent gesture in midair.
“Please,” she rolled her eyes. “You don’t know half of the spells he knows, you’ll never get
close to his head.” She said with a scoff and he narrowed her eyes at her.
“Back to defending him, now?” He asked acidly.
“Yes.” She said, sitting back straight, “I am.” they were working on it. It was his turn to scoff.
Hermione didn’t add that he could be as nasty as Draco if he wanted. Harry said nothing.
The rain outside grew stronger, the wind roaring, and they couldn’t see a thing from their
windows. The lamps on their compartment flickered to light over their heads and Ron leaned
over the new professor to try to look outside. “We must be nearly there.” He said and just as
the words left his mouth, the train began to slow down.
Hermione narrowed her eyes as she looked at her wristwatch. “We can’t be there already.”
She muttered.
“So, why are we stopping?” Ron asked and Hermione wondered the same thing, as the train
was getting slower and slower. As the train got close to a stop, the wind and rain sounded
louder than ever.
Harry, who was the one nearest the door, got up to investigate the corridor.
The train came to a stop with a jolt, and Hermione heard thuds and bangs from luggage
falling out of the racks. Then, all the lamps went out and they were plunged into total
darkness. Cold crept inside her bones.
“What’s going on?” Ron asked.
“Ouch!” She gasped. “Weasley, that was my foot!”
There was a squeaking sound, and Hermione turned to see the dim black outline of Ron,
wiping a patch clean on the window and peering out.
“Something is moving out there,” he said. “I think people are coming aboard...” The
compartment door suddenly opened, and someone fell over Harry’s legs. Hermione barely
managed to keep from screaming.
“Sorry! D’you know what’s going on? Ouch! Sorry —” it was Neville.
“Hullo, Neville,”
“Harry? Is that you? What’s happening?”
“No idea! Sit down—”
Hermione felt rather than saw Harry pulling Neville on his side to sit.
“I’m going to go and ask the driver what’s going on,” She said and got up, she felt her way
through the compartment and found the door, but as soon as she slid it open, she knocked
headfirst into someone. She hissed in pain. “Who’s that?” She asked.
“Hermione?” The person asked.
“Ginny!” Ron said and Hermione now recognised the voice. “What are you doing?”
“I was looking for you.”
“Come in and sit down—”
“Not here!” said Harry hurriedly. “I’m here!”
“Ouch!” said Neville.
“Quiet!” said a hoarse voice suddenly. Hermione whirled around, there was a handful of
flames on his hand, and it barely illuminated his face. A memory tried to come to the front of
her mind, but she didn’t seem to be able to reach it. He watched her in the dim light as she
watched him. Neither of them spoke a thing. The others also seemed to have fallen silent.
“Stay where you are,” he said in the same hoarse voice, and he got slowly to his feet.
But the door slid slowly open before Lupin could reach it. Hermione jumped at the noise and
Lupin reached for her before she could turn to see who it was this time. He pulled her behind
him swiftly, she probably stepped in someone’s foot.
Standing in the doorway, illuminated by the shivering flames in Lupin’s hand, was a cloaked
figure that towered to the ceiling. Its face was completely hidden beneath its hood. From the
cloak, a hand was protruding, and it glistened, greyish, slimy-looking, and scabbed, like it
was dead. Like it died from drowning. Hermione’s scream sized in her throat.
She couldn’t see a face, couldn’t see anything under the hood, but the thing drew a long,
slow, rattling breath—just like someone does when it’s drowning and trying to breathe, trying
to suck more than air, trying to suck life.
It was instantaneous. An intense cold swept over them all. Her scream had completely died in
her throat and the cold outside seemed to have been installed inside her chest, right on her
heart.
Maybe she fell, maybe someone pulled her to a seat, maybe she was still standing, but
Hermione couldn’t know, she couldn’t feel anything other than pure, sheer panic and
desperation. She felt she was the one drowning now, her hand would become just like that
thing’s. There was a single thought in her head now, an absolute certainty: she was going to
die.
“Don’t let go of him, do you hear me? No matter what don’t let go of him.” She heard a
woman saying, but she couldn’t see the woman’s face.
Hermione tried to open her mouth to reply, but she felt she couldn’t. Her eyes also seemed to
have stopped working, because even though she could hear voices around her, her friends’
voice, it sounded far, far away from her, muffled.
“Don’t let go of him, do you hear me? No matter what don’t let go of him.” The woman said
again, her voice the only thing clear in her mind.
She didn’t recognise where she was—no, she knew where she was, but the voice seemed to
be somewhere else—was it a room?
“Don’t let go of him, do you hear me? No matter what don’t let go of him.”
Let go of who? Hermione tried to ask, to scream, but no voice came out.
She heard someone screaming for help, but it was different from the woman’s voice, she
thought this one was actually happening. Someone was asking for help.
“I will be right back.” Someone said to her left. The woman was getting farther and farther
away now, but her voice was still clear.
There was a flash of green and a scream—maybe this time it was hers. She felt her body
crumpling.
She felt hands on her arms, putting her on the couch, she could see around her again, the
lights had come back, and Neville was on her side, calling her name. Hermione had no idea
how much time had passed, it all certainly felt like seconds, but what if she had lost minutes,
hours?
“Let me check on her,” someone else said and Hermione blinked, trying to focus on the voice
and the face now in front of her. A new pair of hands grabbed her arms, and the person gave a
little squeeze. “Hermione, are you alright?” The voice was softer, and she blinked one more
time, finally focusing on the face. It was Professor Lupin. “Can you see me?” He asked and
she nodded.
“I know you,” she blurted, and it couldn’t be possible, but Professor Lupin seemed to have
gotten even paler. The memory was there, she was certain of it. She could almost touch it.
Hermione tried to reach for it, but it seemed to get further away from her.
Ron snorted. “He’s the new professor. He was sleeping for the majority of the journey.”
“It’s alright. It’s normal to feel a bit confused.” The professor said and Hermione finally
caught sight of Harry unconscious on the other couch.
“Harry!” she called and went over him; her legs were still a bit wobbly and the professor had
to help her cross the short space between them. “Harry,” she called and shook his shoulders.
“Are you alright?” Harry stirred and immediately Ron and Professor Lupin went to his side
to help him sit up.
“Are you okay?” Ron asked nervously and Harry nodded. He was still trying to adjust to
around him, he blinked, just like Hermione had done. Their eyes met and he gripped her
hand. “Are you alright?” he asked her and she nodded.
“What happened?” he asked, “Where’s that thing? Who screamed?” He asked and Hermione
sat back. She didn’t hear anyone screaming.
“No one screamed,” Ron replied anxiously and Hermione saw everyone shaking their heads.
Ginny was still shaking a bit and Neville seemed to have cried.
“But I heard screaming—” Harry argued, and he got frustrated when Ron looked at him like
he had gone mad.
“I heard a woman,” Hermione said and Harry snapped his head back at her. He nodded.
Whoever he had heard screaming was also a woman. Someone around them had taken a long
intake of breath. “She wasn’t screaming though—” Hermione hesitated, Harry was looking at
her with his impossibly green eyes and Hermione felt the inexplicable urge to gather him in
his arms.
“What?” Harry asked.
“She was telling someone something—Saying don’t let go of him, no matter what, don’t let
go of him.”
There was a loud snap that made all of them jump. Professor Lupin was breaking an
enormous slab of chocolate into pieces. “Here,” he said to both her and Harry. “Eat it. It’ll
help.”
Professor Lupin still seemed a little shaken. He was holding onto the luggage rack above
them.
“What was that thing?” Harry asked.
“A dementor,” Lupin explained and Hermione curled her nose at the sight of Ron chucking
the chocolate piece inside before Lupin even moved to Ginny. “One of the Dementors of
Azkaban.”
“That’s a Dementor?” Hermione asked. Lupin nodded at her and went to the door.
“Eat,” he told Harry. “I have to check on another student and speak to the driver.”
They only spoke again when he left and Hermione turned to the others. “Nothing happened to
you?” she asked,
“I thought the two of you were having a fit or something,” Ron explained, he was still a bit
pale, his freckled face seemed even more freckled. Ginny still held onto her brother’s sleeve.
“You went sort of rigid and fell out of your seat and started twitching—” Ron told Harry and
then turned to her, “You too. You froze up, your eyes got all big and unfocused. You almost
fell to the floor, but Neville held you up. And Professor Lupin stepped around you and
walked toward the thing, pulled out his wand and said ‘None of us is hiding Sirius Black
under our cloaks. Go.’ And then he cast something, a silvery thing that made the thing go
away.”
“And then someone was calling for help,” Ginny added. At least that was real. “And
Professor Lupin went to help.”
“It was horrible,” Neville said and shuddered from the memory. “Did you feel how cold it got
when it came in?” he asked Ron.
Ron nodded. “I felt weird,” he said, “As if I would never be cheerful again...” his sister
beside him nodded and gave a small sob; after she and Harry, Ginny was the one who looked
the worse of the other three. Rom must have noticed their eyes on Ginny and added, “She
was shaking like mad, though.”
Professor Lupin returned at that and grinned at Harry, “I haven’t poisoned that chocolate, you
know.” He said.
“Professor,” Hermione called. “Were there other students attacked?”

“Just another one.” He told her and seemed to finally take note of the colour in her robes.
“From your house.”
Hermione’s eyes widened and her mind went straight to her friends. “I’ll—” she looked
around, “I’ll check on my friends.” She said but she couldn’t seem to find the courage to
leave Harry side.
He rolled his eyes and snorted. “Go.” He told her.
“Are you alright now, Hermione?” Lupin asked her and she nodded.
Right before leaving, she heard him ask the same thing to Harry.
She went to check on Blaise and Theo first and found that Pansy, Daphne and Draco were
there already. The chocolate on Theo’s hand let her know who had been the other student.
“Are you alright?” She asked, throwing open the door and entering the compartment.
“Yeah.” He told her with a nod. Theo seemed shaken but other than that he looked fine.
Hermione noticed that his purple bruises were gone.
“Did Professor Lupin remove those for you?” she asked.
“Yeah. How do you know his name?”
“I was in the same compartment as him and I was attacked as well. Harry fainted and I got
into shock.”
She felt someone tugging on her sleeve and pulling her down to sit. Hermione turned to see
Draco with his grey eyes troubled. “Are you alright?”
Hermione felt colour returning to her cheeks. “I am now.” She said and sat down next to him,
Pansy on her other side.
It didn’t take them much longer to arrive at Hogsmeade and the group stayed together and
walked close to each other towards the carriages.
She should’ve known better than to tell them that Harry had actually fainted, because of
course, at the first opportunity Draco got, he went after Harry.
“You fainted, Potter? Is Hermione telling the truth? You actually fainted?” Hermione glared
at the back of Draco’s head at the same time Harry and Ron glared at her.
Draco’s face was gleeful, and she wanted to smack him already. Their first steps into the
stone floor of the castle and the two were already at it.
“Shove off, Malfoy,” Ron said, coming in Harry’s defence. “Did you faint as well, Weasley?
Did the scary old Dementor frighten you too, Weasley?” He asked and Hermione tugged on
him.
“Come on, you annoying prat.” She said.
“Is there a problem?” Professor Lupin asked, he had just gotten out of the next carriage.
Hermione knew at once what Draco was seeing: the patches on his robes, the chipped
suitcase and his skinny figure. Draco showed the new professor his insolent smile and
sarcasm dripped from his tongue. “Oh, no, Professor.” He said with a smirk and after spotting
Vince and Greg arriving from the next carriage, took off with them.
Professor Lupin had a smirk of his own and before the two groups of friends could start
something, Hermione grabbed the girls by the hand and sent a glare in Blaise’s direction,
ordering him to follow her.
They had barely glimpsed the enchanted ceiling when Professor Snape appeared in front of
them, glaring already. She looked around, trying to guess who had angered their Head of
House already. “Nott, Granger. Follow me, please.” She and Theo exchanged glances. “Now.”
He added.
The two followed their professor across the entrance hall, up the marble staircase and turned
them to a corridor on their left. Hermione recognised Professor McGonagall’s office. When
Professor Snape opened the door, they saw that Harry was sitting inside already.
“Professor Lupin sent us an owl in advance, telling us what happened on the train.” She told
the three of them in a crispy voice. McGonagall motioned for them to take a seat. Snape went
around her table to lean against the wall and glared at them. As if it were our fault! She
thought and looked away immediately when Snape raised a single eyebrow at her as if he
knew exactly what she was thinking.
Madam Pomfrey entered next, a large tray on her hands and she took no time before making
a fuss.
“I’m fine,” Harry said. “I don’t need anything—”
Theo nodded beside her, “It’s alright—” Well, look at that, Harry and Theo could agree on
something.
“It’s always you two,” Madam Pomfrey muttered, “you are new, though,” she told Theo, “but
you two!” her voice got a little higher at that, “it’s like you two go after trouble—”
“It was a dementor, Poppy.” McGonagall and Snape said at the same time.
This time Madam Pomfrey’s eyes got dark. “I can’t believe this,” she muttered as she went
over Theo. “Setting those things around a school!” she said and moved to Harry, pushing his
hair back and feeling his forehead. “They won’t be the last ones to collapse.” She tutted,
“terrible things those Dementors are and the effect they have on people who are already
delicate—”
“I’m not delicate!” The three of them said, in varying tones of anger. Both Harry and Theo
were red in their cheeks and Theo has his hands in fists.
“Yeah, yeah, all right.” She said absentmindedly and waved her wand so she could take their
pulse.
“Do they need anything?” McGonagall asked the healer.
“Some chocolate will do.” She said and again the three echoed the same answer:
“Professor Lupin already gave something.” This time Snape scowled.
“Did he, now?” said Madam Pomfrey approvingly. “So, we’ve finally got a Defence Against
the Dark Arts teacher who knows his remedies?” She asked and Theo snorted.
“Since that’s sorted,” McGonagall said. “You two can go,” she said, pointing to the boys.
Snape raised an eyebrow at the Transfiguration teacher.
“Wait!” Hermione said. “Theo needs a diagnosis charm.”
“I need no such thing!” He hissed and elbowed her.
“You do!” She glared at him. “He does.” She said it again, this time looking at the teachers.
“Very well, Potter you can go to the feast already.” Harry nodded and escaped from the office
as fast as he could.
Theo was still glaring at her.
“What happened?” Madam Pomfrey asked.
“Nothing—”
“He fell down the stairs before taking the train,” Hermione replied in his place. She already
would hear an earful from him, she wouldn’t say the entire truth to a room full of teachers. It
also helped that Professor Lupin had removed the purple bruises on his face and there wasn’t
anything that would tell them it wasn’t a nasty tumble down the stairs. “I cast Episkey and
Brackium Emendo. But I don’t know how to cast a diagnosis to check if everything’s fine.”
“Everything’s fine.” He hissed.
“You shouldn’t know how to cast neither of those in the first place,” Snape muttered.
Madam Pomfrey ignored everything and waved her wand around and lights, green and
yellow appeared around him. “You seem to have done a wonderful job, Miss Granger.
Everything is in order. There will be a little pain tonight, but this will help.” She said and
handed him a vial. He nodded in thanks. Hermione looked pointedly at him and he glared at
her.
“Can I leave now?” he asked.
“Yes.” Madam Pomfrey said with a wave of her hand. Theo almost knocked the chair in his
haste to leave. “Boys,” she muttered and packed her things, following him out.
McGonagall looked at Snape, who was still hovering. “You too,” she said.
“She’s my student.” He said as if it was obvious.
“Yes, I am perfectly aware Severus. But my matter is with her, not with you.”
He narrowed his eyes at the witch and without another word, he left.
McGonagall rolled her eyes, “boys and men are all the same.” She huffed and Hermione
smiled a little. “I assume you have received my letter, Miss Granger?”
“Yes, Professor.”
“Good. What I wanted to talk to you about is your course schedule and the electives you can
take this year.”
She nodded. “I almost couldn’t decide which ones to take.” Hermione started, “they all
seemed so interesting and—”
McGonagall smiled. “I’ve found a way so you don’t have to choose.” The professor said and
Hermione’s eyes widened.
“How? A few of the classes overlap.”
“I asked for a personal favour at the Ministry. I brought up your case and how wonderful you
performed in every subject so far.” Hermione felt her cheeks reddening. “They agreed to
open an exception and allowed me to give you this.” McGonagall pulled from her pocket a
small necklace that resembled an hourglass. “This is a Time-Turner. An incredible device that
allows the user to travel through time.”
Hermione gasped. Throughout McGonagall’s explanation on how to use it and its

consequences, if used wrong, Hermione had to remember several times to close her mouth,
she was sitting at the edge of her seat and nodding to everything the professor was saying.
“Given the power of the Time-Turner and its abilities, I must ask you to keep this in absolute
secret. Do not tell about this to any of your friends.”
“Of course.”
“You are intelligent, and you will find a way to distract them from wondering how you are
attending every subject we have,” McGonagall smirked and Hermione felt herself smirking
too. “Not even the other teachers know of this, it will be our secret.”
Hermione nodded excitedly and pocketed the Time-Turner.
“Thank you, Professor,” Hermione said happily, “you can trust me with it.”
“I know.” She said, “You may go. I’m afraid you missed the sorting, but dinner will be
delicious as always.”
…
Severus thought it was a curse, probably put on him by James Potter himself. There wasn’t
another explanation for the fact that Severus had to deal with James Potter’s son every year
as soon as the term started. The dead man would think it was hilarious that his son was
continuing the legacy of annoying Severus at any given chance.
This time, however, James’ curse got upgraded, he had to deal with one of his best friends as
well as his son. Surely, Severus and Remus were on better terms since Hermione began her
schooling, going as far as seeing each other twice a year, but still, seeing him every day,
having to work with the man who once tried to kill him—he didn’t have control of his body at
the time, but still, almost death—was a bit too much.
The owl arrived before the train did and Severus wanted to strangle Dumbledore for allowing
the Dementors on the grounds. Potter being attacked was a given, the boy was a magnet for
trouble; Hermione being attacked was, unfortunately, a side effect on Potter’s own attack, but
the Nott boy? That was new.
He waited for the students to leave the carriages, watched from afar the first altercation
between his godson and Potter and just like his daughter, decided to ignore it. Severus
smirked when Remus appeared, good luck with that, Severus thought.
They were almost at the great hall when he stopped the pair. “Nott, Granger. Follow me,
please.” Hermione and Theo exchanged worried glances. “Now.” He added.
He took them to Minerva’s office, where she’d be with Potter and Madam Pomfrey. Severus
circled Minerva’s desk and leaned back on the wall, letting the Gryffindor Head do the
talking. She motioned the three of them to sit.
“Professor Lupin sent us an owl in advance, telling us what happened on the train,” Minerva
said in her usual crispy voice. Severus glared.
As if it were our fault! Severus contained a snort when he caught her enraged thought and
raised a single eyebrow at his daughter, she quickly looked away.
Poppy finally arrived, with a tray of everything she might need in case the students had been
attacked by a dragon, not a Dementor.
“I’m fine.” Potter began. “I don’t need anything—”
“It’s alright—” Nott said with a nod.
“It’s always you two,” Poppy muttered to the siblings, and that, he could agree. “You are
new, though,” she said to Nott, “but you two!” Her voice got closer to a shriek. “It’s like you
two go after trouble--”
“It was a dementor, Poppy.” He and Minerva said at the same time.
“I can’t believe this,” Poppy muttered as she worked on Nott. “Setting those things around a
school!” He watched as she went from one student to another. “They won’t be the last ones
who collapse.” She tutted, “terrible things those Dementors are and the effect they have on
people who are already delicate—”
“I’m not delicate!” The three of them said, in varying tones of anger. This time Severus did
snort.
“Yeah, yeah, alright.” She said absentmindedly and began taking their pulse.
“Do they need anything?” Minerva asked the healer.
“Some chocolate will do.” She said.
“Professor Lupin already gave something.” The three echoed again. This time Snape
scowled. Of course, he had to make himself useful in front of them.
“Did he, now?” Asked Poppy approvingly. Severus rolled his eyes. “So, we’ve finally got a
Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher who knows his remedies?” She asked and Nott
snorted. Severus felt the same.
“Since that’s sorted,” Minerva said. “You two can go,” she said, pointing to the boys.
Severus raised an eyebrow at the Transfiguration teacher. Minerva had no business with his
daughter. Especially when Dumbledore seemed to confide in her things about the girl that he
didn’t confide in Severus.
“Wait!” Hermione said. “Theo needs a diagnosis charm.”
“I need no such thing!” He hissed and elbowed her. Hermione seemed to ignore it.
“You do!” She glared at him. “He does.” She said it again, this time looking at them.
Interesting.
“Very well, Potter you can go to the feast already.” The boy nodded and almost ran from the
office.
Nott kept glaring.
“What happened?” Poppy asked.
“Nothing—”
“He fell down the stairs before taking the train,” Hermione replied in his place. Severus
knew it was a lie at once. He didn’t need to see the flash of memory of when she first saw Nott
this morning on the train to know it. “I cast Episkey and Brackium Emendo. But I don’t know
how to cast a diagnosis to check if everything’s fine.”
“Everything’s fine.” The boy hissed.
“You shouldn’t know how to cast neither of those in the first place,” Severus muttered,
Episkey was a fourth-year spell and Brackium Emendo was a fifth. Well, for most people. He
remembered vividly Lockhart’s performance last year.
Poppy ignored everything and cast the diagnosis charm, they all watched as green and
yellow appeared around him. “You seem to have done a wonderful job, Miss Granger.” He
felt pride swelling on his chest. Even Minerva seemed to share his feeling. “Everything is in
order. There will be a little pain tonight, but this will help.”
“Can I leave now?” Nott asked.
“Yes,” Poppy said with a wave of her hand. The boy almost knocked the chair in his haste to
leave. “Boys,” she muttered and packed her things, following him out.
Minerva looked at him, who was still hovering. “You too,” she told him.
“She’s my student.” He pointed out the obvious.
“Yes, I am perfectly aware Severus. But my matter is with her, not with you.”
He glared as he left and scoffed when he felt the Silencing charm being cast on the room as
the door closed. Severus marched towards the Great Hall to what he was certain would be a
tiring year.
The sorting ceremony was underway, and he slipped past unnoticed as Flitwick called for
students from the top of a stack of books.
Hermione arrived just as the ceremony ended and Dumbledore waited for Minerva to arrive
before starting his announcements. Remus looked at him and raised a sarcastic eyebrow at
him. Wonderful.
“Welcome!” said Dumbledore, Severus served himself a drink. “Welcome to another year at
Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it
best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast.” The wine
was excellent, indeed. “As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express,
our school is presently playing host to some of the Dementors of Azkaban, who are here on
Ministry of Magic business. They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds,”
Dumbledore continued, “and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to
leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises — or
even Invisibility Cloaks.”
Severus sneaked at glance at Remus, who was very pale at the mention of James’ cloak.
There was a satisfying feeling inside of him by knowing he wouldn’t be the only one having to
deal with James’ spawn anymore. Minerva of course knew as well, but Severus had been on
the receiving end of the pranks more than once and Remus had been part of those, he knew
exactly what they could do with that cloak. “It is not in the nature of a Dementor to
understand pleading or excuses. I, therefore, warn each and every one of you to give them no
reason to harm you. I look to the prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that
no student runs afoul of the Dementors,” Dumbledore said.
“On a happier note,” Dumbledore said with a smile. “I am more than pleased to welcome
two new teachers to our ranks this year. First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to
fill the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.” Kindly consented. Severus had to
snort this time. Like Dumbledore ever left them any choice. “As to our second new
appointment,” Dumbledore continued, and Severus sighed. Between the Dementors and this
appointment, Severus wasn’t certain which was worse. “Professor Kettleburn, our Care of
Magical Creatures teacher, unfortunately, has retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy
more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be
filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in
addition to his gamekeeping duties.”
His own happier note, however, was that after years of teaching in the same position, Severus
finally got to choose his classes and he had no classes first thing in the morning, that kind of
torture was given to Remus.
But he did have Hermione’s class with the Gryffindors and that never ended well. It was
certain to be troublesome as Draco had recently taken to theatre, as well as Miss Parkinson,
and the pair was reenacting Potter’s fainting from the Dementors whenever the boy passed
them, or to whoever stopped to watch.
...
On Tuesday morning, Severus was enjoying his well-deserved free period, sitting in one of the
horribly mismatched armchairs when Remus arrived in the Staff Room with his students. He
sneered at once. Severus had forgotten the man had asked to lock the boggart in the staff
room for teaching purposes. Who would have thought that a proper teacher would give him
as much trouble as incompetent ones? Remus moved to close the door behind him. “Leave it.
I rather not watch this.” Severus said and grabbed his stuff. “Possibly no one’s warned you,
Lupin, but this class contains Neville Longbottom and from my personal experience I would
advise you not to entrust him with anything difficult, as he only seems to achieve anything
when he has classes with Miss Granger, and she hisses instructions in his ear.”
Remus raised his eyebrows, not amused. “I was hoping that Neville would assist me with the
first stage of the operation,” Remus said. “And I am sure he will perform it admirably.”
Severus’ lip curled in disgust. Sodding Gryffindors.
Remus Lupin might have been the best person out of the Marauders, Severus thought later
that day, but still, he had been one and clearly, a few habits were indeed hard to break,
because, by Thursday, most of the students couldn’t look at Severus without needing to stiff a
giggle. More than once he had to confiscate a quite detailed drawing of him in those
ridiculous clothes Longbottom’s grandmother fancied. Dean Thomas was quite the artist and
quite good at attending detention as well.
Chapter End Notes
The third-year is here!! This has been my favourite year to write so far!! It's my
favourite book and it has all of my favourite characters together <3 I hope you enjoy
reading it as much as I did writing it. A few plot questions are going to be answered this
year and we are going to see how the events of the past two years will affect canon from
now on.
The title and the quote at the beginning belong to Two by Sleeping at Last (curiously,
they were in 2nd of my top artist on wrapped this year, maybe I listened to it too much
while writing this fic)
Please keep commenting, I love reading everything and please keep with the enormous
comments, it always makes my day when I see one of those. Thank you!!
farewell tears and a welcome home parade
Chapter Notes
Hello!!
I feel like I'm being repetitive, but I really am very appreciative of all the comments you
guys leave.
We have started our first week of class and let me tell you, rereading the books to write
this, I realized how they can't have a single normal week.
Excerpts were taken from Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, they don't belong
to me, they belong to the original author.
But I want to be here,

Truly be here
To watch the ones I love bloom
Chapter Fifteen
Great Hall. The first week of September. 1993.
Hermione was terribly excited for her first day, the prefects were handing out their timetables
and she was almost jumping up and down on her seat in anticipation.
“Calm down,” Blaise laughed at her, “it’s just a couple of new subjects.”
Draco snorted. “She read the coursework of all of them during the summer.”
“Which ones did you choose anyway?” Theo asked and she just smiled blindly at him. He
raised an eyebrow in confusion.
“The best ones of course.” It was her reply.
Finally, she thought, when the prefect gave Hermione her timetable. “Yes!” She said happily.
“We are starting some new subjects today!”
“What the—” Blaise began and Hermione noticed he was eyeing her classes. She snatched it
from his view. “How on Merlin’s name do you have seven subjects on Wednesday?” He
asked her, “we only have five slots!”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she scoffed, working on her best Pansy impersonation. “Of course, it’s
not all in the same day.”
“It is.” He insisted.
Hermione rolled her eyes. “Pass me the jam Pans, please.” She said, ignoring Blaise.
“She has seven classes on Wednesday,” Blaise told Theo.
The boy shrugged. “If you say so.”
Breakfast resumed without any new comment on her timetable, but Blaise kept glancing at
her curiously. Hermione knew she had to be more careful. She would have to check which
electives they were taking and plan accordingly. There would be no talking of Arithmancy
with Pansy since she was supposed to be in Care of Magical Animals with everyone at that
time.
She looked around, most of them had the same timetable, as the majority had chosen either
Care of Magical Creatures or Divination or both. The only one who didn’t choose Hagrid’s
class was Theo, who had chosen Ancient Runes and Muggle Studies. Draco and Blaise had
opted on Ancient Runes instead of Divination.
She was the only Slytherin third year in Arithmancy, which unfortunately was the subject she
was the most excited about and the one she would have to keep quiet about it. But Hermione
was going to have a problem with Ancient Runes and Muggle Studies since the two subjects
were always overlapping some other elective.
The first two classes passed in a blur, Herbology was nice and they were finally moving to
more dangerous plants, but everyone was excited about their electives and poor Flitwick had
to call their attention three times.
The Slytherins were excited but at the same time, they were also betting on how pathetic
Hagrid would be as a professor. Halfway through lunch, Theo was thanking Merlin for
having opted out of the elective. “Mark my words, Draco will be unbearable,” Theo
whispered to her over their chicken.
“More so?” She asked with a giggle.
Maybe all that brooding, long looks and quiet demeanour meant something else, maybe Theo
should have chosen Divination after all because of course, he ended up being right.
Hagrid was waiting for them at the door of his hut. Hermione noticed how he looked quite
anxious. She sighed, he was the perfect bait for Draco’s nastiness.
“Behave.” She hissed at him and he merely smirked.
“C’mon, now, get a move on!” Hagrid called. “Got a real treat for yeh today! Great lesson
comin’ up! Right, follow me!”
“He isn’t taking us—” Draco asked, face paler than normal.
“I don’t think so,” Hermione muttered, feeling quite worried herself. Neither of them had
good memories of the forest.
Thankfully, they went around the edges and Hagrid took them to an empty paddock.
“Everyone gather ‘round the fence here!” Everyone carefully positioned themselves around
it. “That’s it — make sure yeh can see — now, firs’ thing yeh’ll want ter do is open yer books
—”
“How?” Draco drawled, raising his book with a wary eye.
“Eh?”
“How do we open our books?” Draco repeated. Not kindly. Hermione chuckled when she
saw his book still had the rope around it. She remembered quite vividly what happened when
he tried to open it in his room. Probably noticing her amusement, he sent a glare in her
direction.
Hermione noticed that his book was not the only one with something holding it closed. Quite
a few had belts around theirs, others had clamped it with binder clips.
“Hasn’ — hasn’ anyone bin able ter open their books?” Hagrid asked, looking crestfallen.
There was a collective shake between the students.
“Yeh’ve got ter stroke ‘em,” Hagrid said as though it was the most obvious thing in the
world. “Look —”
He took Hermione’s copy, the only one that was intact, after Draco’s book, she didn’t try to
open hers. Hagrid ran a giant forefinger down its spine, and the book shivered, and then fell
open and lay quiet in his hand.
“Oh, how silly we’ve all been!” Draco sneered. “We should have stroked them! Why didn’t
we guess!” he said sarcastically.
“I— I thought they were funny,” Hagrid said uncertainly and turned to Hermione to give her
book back.
Draco was still going. “Oh, tremendously funny! Really witty, giving us books that try and
rip our hands off!”
“Shut up, Malfoy,” Harry hissed. Hermione didn’t even see him approach.
“Righ’ then.” Hagrid said after a while. “So— so yeh’ve got yer books an’... an’... now yeh
need the Magical Creatures. Yeah. So I’ll go an’ get ‘em. Hang on...” They all watched him
go into the forest and exchanged glances between them.
“God, this place is going to the dogs,” Draco said loudly. “That oaf teaching classes, my
father will have a fit when I tell him—”
“Please,” Hermione said. “He’s probably just nervous—"

“Shut up, Malfoy,” Harry repeated.
“Careful, Potter, there’s a Dementor behind you—” Draco was about to continue but got
interrupted by a girl from Gryffindor squealing and pointing towards their opposite side.
“What in Helga’s saggy breast—” Blaise began. Hermione understood the sentiment because
trotting toward them was a dozen of some very weird creatures. It looked mythological, but
not even the ones in Greek Mythology were like that. Their bodies, hind legs and tails were
of horses, while the front legs and heads looked like giant eagles. They also had enormous
bird wings. Its eyes were orange and despite having a very long beak, Hermione couldn’t stop
looking at their long and deadly-looking feet.
Thankfully they all had leashes around their necks and Hagrid was holding onto their ends.
“Gee up, there!” Hagrid roared and brought the creatures close to where they all were.
Collectively, they all drew back slightly.
“Hippogriffs!” Hagrid roared happily, waving a hand at them. “Beau’iful, aren’ they?”
Not really, no.
“So,” said Hagrid, rubbing his hands together and beaming around, “if yeh wan’ ter come a
bit nearer...”
No one seemed to want to. Harry and Ron approached the fence cautiously. Hermione moved
to go as well but felt Blaise holding her back. He shook his head. “Don’t.”
Hagrid began to explain about them, Hermione wished she could hear everything but Draco
beside her was whispering with Vince and Greg, he merely avoided her elbows, having three
years’ worth of practice by now.
When Hagrid asked who wanted to go first, everyone moved back. Harry and Ron had also
seemed to lose a bit of their nerve. “No one?” said Hagrid, with a pleading look and
Hermione saw it going toward Harry.
That’s why he always gets into trouble. She thought and right on cue, Harry said: “I’ll do it.”
Two Gryffindor girls whispered something about tea leaves and Hermione saw Harry rolling
his eyes. Draco finally stopped his whispering to pay attention.
They all watched in equal parts eagerly and apprehensively, as Harry approached the paddock
and Hagrid gave him instructions. Hermione gripped Draco’s hand.
Hermione hold her breath as Harry bowed to the Hippogriff and the creature simply stared at
him hauntingly. She only loosened her breath when it bowed back.
She smiled as Harry slowly reached forward and patted it on the neck. Everyone applauded
and Hermione pulled her hand away from Draco to join the others. Draco scowled.
“Righ’ then, Harry,” said Hagrid. “I reckon he migh’ let yeh ride him!”
“What?” Hermione gasped.
“Potter should have a membership at the Hospital Wing,” Blaise commented and Pansy
snorted.
Hagrid helped Harry up and suddenly the creature took flight, many students gasped as it
took Harry around the paddock.
Once everyone was sure that the hippogriffs wouldn’t attack them, they all cautiously
climbed into the paddock. Hermione, Pansy, Daphne and Blaise had one for themselves and
they all bowed to it nervously. They giggled when it bowed back, and they could pat it.
Draco, Vince and Greg were with Buckbeak, the one Harry had ridden and although
Buckbeak had bowed to them, it still eyed them warily. “This is very easy,” Draco drawled.
“I knew it must have been if Potter could do it... I bet you’re not dangerous at all, are you?”
he said to the Hippogriff. “Are you, you great ugly brute?”
Hermione knew as soon as the words left his mouth that it was the wrong thing to say, she
whirled around at the same time Draco let out a high-pitched scream. Hagrid was wrestling
Buckbeak back into his collar and Hermione and the others ran to him. Draco’s blood was
sipping through his shirt sleeve.
“I’m dying!” He yelled. “I’m dying, look at me! It’s killed me!”
“Don’t exaggerate,” Blaise muttered, but Pansy was already crying.
“Yer not dyin’!” Hagrid said and pushed them away. “Someone help me — gotta get him
outta here —”
Hermione ran to hold open the gate of the paddock as Hagrid lifted Draco easily. His arm was
badly hurt, there was a long, very deep gash and blood flooded easily out of him.
Pansy, still crying, ran after him.
The class obviously ended after that, and they all walked back to the castle. “He should be
sacked at once!” Daphne declared.
“It was Malfoy’s fault!” A Gryffindor boy snapped.
She caught Harry’s eye and trotted to him. “This is bad.” She said in a whisper. “He’s going
to make hell out of this.”
Harry glared. “I wish Buckbeak had taken his tongue.”
“Harry!” She snapped. “Let’s just hope he’s going to be okay.”
He rolled his eyes, “of course he will. Madam Pomfrey can mend cuts in a second, or did you
forget last year when I had no bones?” He asked her and scoffed. “Are you going to cry over
him, as well?”
“Shut up. He’s a prat, but I worry.”

“You were holding his hand,” Harry mentioned. “Before.”
Hermione felt her entire face warming. “Shut up.” She snapped before walking away,
catching up with the Slytherins.
They found Theo lounging in the common room with a few other students who had free
periods and Vince and Greg began the tale of how Draco had been fatally injured by a
hippogriff and they weren’t certain he would survive.
Theo raised an eyebrow at her and Blaise in questioning. “Is he even hurt?”
“That he is,” Blaise answered, plopping down on the sofa next to him, Hermione perched
herself on the arm.
The trio watched as the story of Draco’s accident got more chimerical by the second.
Hermione glanced at her watch and saw that she had enough time to go back and attend
Arithmancy. So, with a quick excuse about early reading, she left her common room.
The corridors were almost empty at that time, most students were still in class, so she set on
thinking about what to do. Today, Draco’s attack had given her twenty minutes to walk to the
arithmancy class and use her time turner. McGonagall had given her a book on how it
worked, and she knew that as soon as she turned it, she would disappear from this timeline
and appear at the same place an hour before. Since she couldn’t know if the corridor was
empty an hour ago, she walked around to find a broom closet to hide in to use it.
She couldn’t risk appearing in front of a group of students on her first time using it. She
found one not too far from the classroom and hidden behind a tapestry, since she knew no
one was snogging inside it at this time, Hermione knew it was safe to return to it when her
hour ended. With careful fingers, she turned it in precise degrees and felt the world spinning
around her, it was like something was pulling her body backwards, but her feet weren’t
moving.
As soon as it began, it stopped. But Hermione knew at once it had worked: there was a noise
outside and her watch marked exactly one o’clock.
Grinning, heart rabbiting on her chest, she carefully opened the door and walked out of the
broom closet and straight to her Arithmancy class.
On the next morning, Hermione saw that when the boys appeared from their dorms, Draco
wasn’t among them.
Theo, catching sight of her expression, snorted and explained. “He says he doesn’t have the
strength to attend breakfast.”
“Oh, for Merlin’s sake,” Hermione said annoyedly.
“Poor Draco,” Pansy said in a pitiful voice, but a look in her direction told Hermione she was
anything but pitiful. Blaise raised an eyebrow in question and Pansy rolled her eyes and
huffed in exasperation. “I went with him to the Hospital Wing, didn’t I? Pomfrey healed
everything in a second.” They all snorted and went up for breakfast, all agreeing that Draco
would probably get something to eat before going to class.
The Slytherins had their first divination class that day. Hermione said her goodbyes before
they left their common room because she couldn’t be seen going with the girls for Divination
when she was also going to be in Ancient Runes with the boys.
The Divination classroom was accessed by a trapdoor in the ceiling and Pansy huffed and
complained throughout the climb. Daphne threatened to hex some balls if any boy dared to
step closer and look under their skirts. The classroom itself was even worse, it smelled, and
they had to sit on weirdly stained pillows. Daphne curled her lips and refused to sit,
preferring to fold her cloak and sit on it instead.
Hermione loved learning and she loved all of her subjects but soon enough she realised that
Trelawney – if not Divination, was a load of bullshit.
They were to study tea leaves and the professor went around their groups to help with the
reading, what came out was ridiculous prophecies after ridiculous prophecies. Hermione in
particular got her fair share: something ridiculous about some new person appearing and
changing her life, as well as old wounds, reopening causing family matters to surface.
Hermione found it was all a big load of bullshit and that the boys were right for opting out of
Divination. When their period finished, she was the first to stomp away, rattling teacups with
her haste to leave.
They had, of course, underestimated Draco’s abilities, because he didn’t appear for a single
class that day and when they returned to their common room before dinner, they found him
lounging in one of the settees.
Despite the sling and bandages, he looked perfectly fine.
Blaise threw the closest sofa pillow at the boy, who easily enough moved aside, watching it
fall to his side with an easy smile. “How was class?” He asked.
“Incredible. Best of all time.” It was Hermione’s sardonic reply. She sat down next to him
and he scooted closer, pressing their shoulders together. Her heart seemed to skip a beat at
that.
Vince and Greg arrived with Milli next, and the trio went straight to him, asking him
questions, gingerly touching his arm. Draco hissed in pain and Hermione had to look away to
not give away her bewildered expression.
After being assured that he wasn’t going to die despite being a very close call and that the
pain was still almost unbearable, they left him alone.
“Don’t you have shame?” Theo asked, sitting down next to Hermione.
Draco ignored him and turned to Hermione. “Aren’t you going to ask if I’m all right?”
“I know you are all right.” She replied with a snort. “You are enjoying the attention.”
“I could have died.”
“No.” She shook her head and patted his good arm. “I could have died last year; you are
perfectly fine.”
Draco huffed and got up, going to Pansy, who was sitting on a sofa on the other side of the
room with Daphne. He plopped down next to Pansy and muttered something. Pansy
immediately started running her fingers on his hair and caressing his injured arm.
“She can’t be serious,” Hermione muttered at the sight. Pansy was legitimately simpering
over Draco’s arm. “Just this morning, she—” Theo’s laugh cut her off.
Blaise had sat down on the place Draco’s vacated. “She’s going to kiss it better, Granger,”
Blaise said with a smirk.
Hermione looked away disgruntled. “I didn’t think Pansy could be like that. It’s quite
ridiculous.” She said with a barely constrained scoff.
“Well, well, well, isn’t that interesting,” Theo said and threw his legs on top of hers.
Hermione glared at him. “Maybe you should find the answer on the tea leaves, I’m certain
there’s something that explains it.”
“You can be as annoying as Draco, you know that, don’t you?”
Theo rolled his eyes. “At least, I’m much more handsome.” Hermione did scoff at that and
Theo didn’t look offended, he looked quite amused. “Do you think Draco is better looking,
Granger?”
Hermione, inexplicably, blushed and looked away. Theo threw his head back in a loud bark
and Blaise wasn’t very far behind, he was wiping tears from his eyes. Hermione huffed and
pushed Theo’s legs off her. “You two are unbearable.”
“I’m your best friend.” Theo sing-sung.
“I’m her best friend.” Blaise retorted.
“You two are pains in my ass, that’s what you are.” She said as she got up, “right now, Harry
is my best friend.”
And with a theatrical shudder and slightly exaggerated heaving from Blaise, she left them to
their antics. It also helped that Pansy was leaning her head on Draco’s shoulder and nodding
to whatever bullshit he was telling her. Hermione doubted it even hurt anymore. She got the
sick desire to twist it, so he could see what pain really was.
Of course, it all got worse. Professor Snape signed him a slip that allowed him off classes
until Thursday, Hermione could barely look at the boy without scoffing. Draco, in turn,
would smirk and wink. “Who’s his favourite now?” He asked once.
His scheduled return to classes would be for Potions after lunch, but of course, he just
couldn’t arrive on time like everyone else.
They were halfway through Potions when he swaggered inside, Hermione and Daphne were
cutting their ingredients together and Pansy was sitting by herself next to them.
Draco had his arm in the sling and his entire arm was covered in bandages. “He’s ridiculous,”
Hermione muttered and Daphne sniggered.
“He was restricted to his common room all this time,” Blaise said from behind her, “of course
he’d put that thing back on now he can be out and about.”
Right on cue, Pansy moved her things aside and Hermione was almost certain that the two of
them had all of this planned between them because she asked in a ridiculous voice that
Hermione had never heard on Pansy. “How is it, Draco? Does it hurt much?”
“Yeah,” said Malfoy, putting on a brave sort of grimace. But she saw him wink at Crabbe and
Goyle when Pansy had looked away.
“Settle down, settle down,” said Professor Snape idly.
“Sir,” Draco called, “sir, I’ll need help cutting up these daisy roots, because of my arm —”
Hermione whirled around, mouth open in disbelief.
“Weasley, cut up Malfoy’s roots for him,” said Professor Snape without looking up.
Hermione shook her head and glared at Draco’s smirk.
“You ass.” She mouthed and Draco had the audacity to wink.
Ron went brick red and Hermione was certain both Harry and Ron had regretted their choice
of seating. “There’s nothing wrong with your arm,” he hissed at Draco.
“Weasley, you heard Professor Snape; cut up these roots.”
Ron seized his knife, pulled Draco’s roots toward him, and began to chop them like he was
trying to murder them.
Draco gave a small, not nice, laugh. “Professor,” he drawled, “Weasley’s mutilating my roots,
sir.”
Hermione scoffed and turned around, focusing on her work as Professor Snape made the
Gryffindor swap ingredients with Draco and then get Harry to skin another ingredient.
“Seen your pal Hagrid lately?” Draco asked them quietly.
“None of your business,” said Ron jerkily, without looking up.
Hermione tried to tune them off and not think about how easily Lucius could get Hagrid
sacked. Neville on her other side was in trouble and Severus was breathing down his neck
making everything worse for the boy.
“Please, sir,” said Hermione, “please, I could help Neville put it right —”
“I don’t remember asking you to show off, Miss Granger,” he said coldly, and Hermione went
scarlet. Draco, who was snickering until then, shut up immediately. Hermione felt like putting
her face inside her cauldron to hide from her professor.
Their last class of the day was one that they were the most excited about: Defence Against
the Dark Arts with Lupin. The many tales of his classes had echoed through the halls and
every third year seemed to have faced their boggart already, leaving the Slytherins the only
ones left to face it.
The girls were still giggling over Hermione’s many predicaments for her future and when
they met with the boys in the courtyard to have their first Defence Against the Dark Arts
lesson, they conspired loud enough to grab their attention.
“This is the year you will fall in love Granger,” Pansy offered mystically, wiggling her
eyebrows and faking a reading on her invisible cup. Daphne giggled.
“Who’s going to be the unlucky fella?” Blaise asked, joining them. “Anyone, we know?” He
asked and he winked at Hermione before battling his ridiculous eyelashes at Draco,
thankfully the blond remained unaware.
Hermione ignored their antics all the way to the Defence Classroom, where Professor Lupin
awaited them. “I guess there’s no mystery anymore about what we are doing today, right?”
He asked and they all nodded. Even Draco, who had yet to show anything other than scorn to
every teacher seemed eager to have his turn. “Follow me, then.”
Draco, in a surprising turn of events, was the first to move and Hermione narrowed her eyes,
suspicious that the boy would use his proximation of the teacher to murmur insults to amuse
Vince and Greg. She trotted up to him and elbowed her way past the two boys. Draco rolled
his eyes when he saw her, “worried about me, Granger?”
“Of course, I wouldn’t want you to trip over a raised stone on the floor and announce a
broken leg now, would I?” She murmured with fake sympathy; one Draco was not proud to
see she had learned from him. “Not when you just returned.” She added with a smile.
“Why Granger? Did you miss me?” He smiled that terrible, horrendous, utterly disarming
smile of his, the one where he quirked his mouth and scrunched his nose. It wasn’t one of his
prettiest smiles, no, she knew he had better ones, but this one did something murderous to her
heart. Pansy laugh reached her and it snapped Hermione’s eyes away from Draco’s mouth.
Thankfully, Professor Lupin saved her from answering, because they had reached the Staff
Room and before opening the door, he turned to them and asked, “You all know what we are
going to do today, but can anyone tell me what exactly a boggart is?”
“Granger, he’s asking you,” Vince called and Hermione rolled her eyes but answered anyway.
“A boggart is an amortal shape-shifting non-being that takes on the form of whoever’s

looking’s biggest fear. Because of that, no one knows what its true form is as it changes
instantly upon encountering someone.”
“Excellent Hermione,” Professor Lupin said and offered her a warm smile, again, the feeling
that she knew him from somewhere struck her. “Ten points to Slytherin.”
Opening the door, Professor Lupin got them all inside and before Hermione could take a
glimpse on the cupboard on the corner, Theo had wiggled his way to her and pinched her
waist, making her squirm. “How many points have you won so far?” He asked to her ear.
“A hundred and sixty-five.” She answered proudly and removed his fingers from her waist.
Theo smirked. “Curious, isn’t it?” He murmured.
“Why is that?” She snapped.
“We had fifteen classes so far and I know that you haven’t earned any points in Potions and
History of Magic and something tells me Divination didn’t award you any as well, so it’s
curious, how you got all those many points already.”
Hermione stilled and Theo’s eyes glinted with mischief. She ran through her memory, she
was being extremely cautious with her classes, not letting them catch her doing homework
from classes she wasn’t supposed to be attending and always sneaking to the bathroom to use
her Time-Turner. But of course, if someone would find out about her slightly crowded
schedule, it would be him.
“Aren’t you quite the Know-it-All?” She asked, “Maybe you are bad at maths,” she shrugged.
“Maybe.”
Deciding to ignore Theo for the remainder of the class, Hermione turned to professor Lupin
who was putting a few chairs aside. It was only then that Hermione noticed that Professor
Snape was there.
“Aren’t you leaving?” Professor Lupin asked with a smirk and Snape glared in return. “I
thought you rather be anywhere but to watch this.”
Professor Snape closed the book he was reading with a loud snap, making Lupin’s smirk
widen. Snape scoffed. “You think you are funny, that’s the worst.”
Hermione knew her Potions professor didn’t have many friends among the Hogwarts staff
and she also knew he had despised their former Defence professor, Gilderoy Lockhart, but
this, this animosity looked almost like old-man bickering. She wondered if they knew each
other from school.
Professor Snape left and Lupin, still grinning, turned toward them. “Very well, one boggart
out, we still have this one to deal with.” He said and Hermione bit down on her lip to keep
from grinning. Blaise didn’t bother. “Before we begin, let’s practice the incantation first.” He
instructed, “repeat after me, Riddikulus.”
“Riddikulus!” the class echoed.

Draco opened his mouth and Hermione glared at him, mouthing “don’t.” at him, she knew
exactly the kind of comment he had been about to make.
“The charm is very simple; I don’t doubt most of you will get it right on the first try. But the
thing is, it’s not the spell that really finishes a boggart. Can anyone tell me what it is?”
“Laughter,” Hermione replied.
“Correct.” He said, “what do you say about five more points?” He asked her, and she grinned
widely. Not forgetting to show her tongue to Theo. “Laughter is the real weapon against a
boggart, so when you face him and prepare to cast the spell, think of something funny, think
of it in a shape that you find amusing.”
“How are we supposed to think of something funny when we are facing our biggest fear?”
Daphne asked.
“Very interesting question, Miss?”
“Daphne Greengrass.” She replied.
“It might seem impossible to find amusement in face of our fear Daphne but try to remember
that it’s not real and you hold all the power against it.” He explained and Daphne nodded.
“So, let’s line up. Daphne, what do you say about being the first one?” She nodded, eager for
the attention.
She positioned herself in front of the cupboard, the line forming in front of her, Hermione
found herself almost all the way to the back, with only Theo, Vince and Greg behind her.
“Are you ready?” The professor asked her, and she nodded once.
It was both intriguing and terrifying, knowing that they were about to know each other’s
greatest fears. Hermione wondered what hers would become and at the same time feared for
Theo’s. The boy was all cold and mysterious when he wanted, but she knew it wasn’t a
coincidence that he had ended up on the end of the line.
Lupin opened the cupboard with his wand and stepped aside, for a second Hermione thought
they would glimpse its original form, but it immediately took the form of Daphne herself. But
it wasn’t Daphne as they were used to the manicured, beautiful, boisterous, stylish Daphne
Greengrass they were used to. The one facing the original had bags under her eyes and
second-hand clothes, her hair wasn’t shiny and it lacked everything that made Daphne
extraordinary, it was—Hermione realised then—mediocre. Daphne’s biggest fear was
mediocrity.
She heard Daphne’s strangled sob and watched as the girl pointed her wand at her fake. Her
voice was fierce when she cast the spell. “Riddikulus!”
The Daphne standing before them had her hair turned purple and her nose grown into a
ridiculous size, tilting the boggart forward with the weight, her hands and legs also grew in
size, it stumbled on its own limbs and they all laughed as it struggled to regain footing. The
thing shuddered and Lupin motioned for the next in line to take the position.
Hermione watched Daphne moving to the side and saw the girl’s jaw tense and her blue eyes
clear, probably focusing somewhere far from this classroom.
Pansy was next and the creature, upon seeing the raven-haired girl shifted and upon them was
a man Hermione had seen before only once. Tall and slightly overweight, a beard on his face
and not a trace of affection on his features. Pansy’s father carried a portrait of an old man,
almost bald and with not even half a dozen teeth on his mouth. It wasn’t possible, but
Hermione could swear she heard Pansy gulping.
“He’s going to make you a fine husband.” Her father said and this time Hermione knew she
wasn’t hearing things.
“No,” Pansy said in gritted teeth.
“It’s not real Pansy.” Lupin reminded her.
“Riddikulus!” Pansy almost yelled and her father changed into a puppet with clown clothing
on strings, being controlled by a floating hand that made him dance comically.
The effect was immediate, the classroom fell into laughter and even Lupin snorted at the
scene. Pansy huffed and barely kept herself from spitting on the puppet.
Tracey was next and in front of her appeared a vampire, with its fangs out ready to strike.
Tracey was quick and made the vampire toothless, embarrassed by its lack of teeth. Milli’s
boggart was a mirror, that showed her bigger than she was, her face filled with acne and
everyone laughing at her; her voice was shaky when she made her boggart into Miss Witch
Weekly, a crown on top of her head and her pageant sash across her shoulder.
Blaise was next and his boggart didn’t fix in one thing, but instead changed from man to man,
one different from the other, all telling him they were his father. Blaise snarled and made all
those men into a Greek statue of Adonis. Hermione snorted and she was certain she was the
only one to catch the joke. A look on her left and she saw Professor Lupin stifling a laugh.
The new son of Adonis strutted towards the back and threw a wink in her direction.
“It’s good that you know it was ridiculous.” She said between laughter.
Draco was already in place and the Greek statue turned into Lucius Malfoy, in all his snarling
glory. He was looking down on his son, who had become paralysed in front of her. “Aren’t
you tired of being second?” The boggart snarled, Lucius’ voice clear and cutting. Hermione
pressed a hand on Draco’s mid-back, offering him support. “Malfoys aren’t meant to be
behind anyone,” Lucius told his son and his voice dripped with scorn. Hermione was the only
one close enough to hear the muttered: “You are a disgrace to the family.”
Hot anger spiked through her and she had her wand ready, but Draco beat her and leaning
once against her palm, he cast “Riddikulus!” Pride shot through her, because not only she
knew how paralysing Lucius could be and how paralysed he could turn his son but also how
important the Malfoy name was to Draco. It filled her with pride to see Draco putting his
father through ridicule as the boggart’s clothes changed and he was now wearing Professor’s
Sprout dirty robes and that horrendous pink earmuff.
Draco turned around and she caught his eye briefly, he was clearly shaken. Hermione
watched him join Blaise and jumped back when she turned around and found Draco facing
her.
A series of gasps behind her and Hermione felt her eyes widening. Draco strode towards her,
the worst smirk on his lips, the one he reserved for Ron and others he deemed lesser than the
ground he walked on. He had a piece of paper in his hand and Hermione could see the T on it
and she watched her score horrified, she had failed an exam and Draco was coming to make
fun of her in front of everyone else and—“Your farce fell.” He sneered. “You worthless,
filthy, mudblood.”
Hermione saw read. “Riddikulus!” She cast, the tip of her wand pressed on his throat. The
boggart changed and Draco was now standing in front of her wearing Peeves clothes and the
dung bombs he liked to throw dripping from his sleeked hair.
Hermione wiped a tear before turning and Draco was there, the real Draco, her Draco. “It will
never be real.” He told her. “Never, Granger.” She nodded and he squeezed her hand once
before letting it go.
She watched Theo face the boggart and to no one’s surprise, it turned into his father. An
older, meaner version of Theo. His father raised his hand to strike, and Theo cowered, all of
them moved at once, trying to stop the man from hitting Theo. Even Professor Lupin had
gotten closer. Theo’s father scoffed and took a step back, he laughed and pulled a wand from
his robes. “Avada—”
Hermione gasped. Blaise sprinted. Professor Lupin pushed Theo away and Theo’s father
disappeared, in its place appeared the moon, covered in clouds. The professor rolled his eyes
and made it into a balloon.
It wasn’t a floating crystal ball like Harry had said. It was the moon, the full moon to be more
precise.
Theo was shaking and Blaise and Daphne went to him. Hermione watched Lupin and the
cupboard where he had thrust the balloon inside. Why would a grown man fear the moon?
She wondered. The professor rolled his shoulders and looked at his watch. “I’m sorry boys,
I’m afraid our time is over.” He said and Vince and Greg looked relieved at the news.
“Tomorrow we meet again.” He told them.
They picked their things and moved to leave the classroom. Hermione’s heart still hammering
on her chest. if the spell had hit Theo, would something happen?
“Theodore.” Professor Lupin called, “can I have a word?”

…
Finally, it was Friday night and Severus could shut himself from the rest of the school for two
days. He had no desire to see anyone until Monday morning when it was time for breakfast.
He was sipping his glass of fire whiskey, a much-deserved one after his first week back when
the door to his office opened. By the lack of a knock, he could only guess who it was.
Not a second later, the door to his private quarters opened and Severus hurled the glass at it,
smashing it against the wood.
Remus carefully stepped aside and raised an unamused eyebrow at him. “What if it was a
student?”
“No one is stupid enough to enter without knocking. I knew it was you.” Severus snarled.
“A murder attempt on my first week? I’m impressed.” Remus replied and cleaned the mess
on the floor with his wand.
“Doors exist to be knocked, I know you don’t have much use for yours back at your hole, but
I have to believe you haven’t forgotten simple rules.” Remus seemed unfazed and found a
place on his armchair. The man was unbelievable. “Leave.”
Remus smirked. “Now you know how I feel when you invade my home.”
“I have the mind to knock first.”
He waved a hand in dismissal. “You, my friend—”
“I’m not your friend.” Severus cut him off.
“Have a serious problem of daddy issues going on that dungeon of yours.”
Severus scoffed. “It’s a requirement for the hat.”
“Nah,” Remus shrugged, “He would have been put there if it was the case.” He said
offhandedly and Severus raised an eyebrow. That was an improvement.
“Obvious daddy issues aside, why do you say so?”
“The class on boggarts with the Slytherins,” Remus explained and helped himself to a glass
of fire whiskey. “Four out of eight had their fathers as boggarts.”
“What happened to the other two?”
“I cut the class short after a student almost got hit with the killing curse thrown by their own
father.”
“Let me guess,” he said, sitting on the armchair opposite Remus. Severus wouldn’t admit it,
but it was the first time he had someone sitting there with him. “Nott.” Remus nodded.
“I didn’t wait to see if the spell would work, got rid of the boggart myself.”
Severus arched a brow. “Again? Betting the odds, are you?”
“It’s just the moon.”
“And it’s Hermione who saw it this time.”
“Are you curious about her fear? Are you wondering if she fears you like poor Neville?”
Severus scowled. “That boy is ridiculous, he has all the reasons to know real fear and—”
“He’s thirteen. You bullying him on a daily is probably higher on his list of fears than
something he has no recollection of.” Remus pointed out.
“Do you think they talked?” Severus asked, for once, honestly curious about the family
reunion that lasted thirteen years.
“You will have to clarify.”
“Bellatrix and your boyfriend.”
“You have to stop calling him that.” Not in this lifetime, Severus thought. “I doubt it,” Remus
said with a shrug. He then grinned and it was baffling how much of Black there was in the
man’s expression. “We should hope he didn’t, otherwise he’d turn Bellatrix even crazier than
she was.” Severus shuddered at that. They had had the good luck of her being on her seventh
year when they arrived and that she had been busy with her engagement to Lestrange to pay
mind to iffy first years, but the stories of Bellatrix’s time in the dungeons were turned into
horror stories by the fireplace for the coldest nights.
They got quiet for a moment, both lost in thoughts and memories. It didn’t take a Legillimens
to know what Remus was thinking about. There was some easiness in the way he talked
about Black, Severus knew it was the siblings’ presence influencing it, not to mention the
impending visit.
“It’s not you,” Remus said at last. “Her biggest fear. Behold, you haven’t traumatised your
own daughter and therefore you are better than a fourth of her classmate’s parents.” Remus
got up and put his glass down. “She’s brilliant, Severus. She answers a question right and I
feel like enveloping her in a hug. How can you bear it?”
Severus looked away. Just the day prior, Hermione had offered to help Longbottom and it
was so similar to when Lily would come forward to help Frank that he flinched and lashed
out to keep himself from cradling her face in his hands. “I can’t. it’s unbearable. I occlude
most of the time she’s present.”
Remus nodded in understanding and left, leaving Severus with a headache and a twist on his
chest.
Hermione didn’t fear him, but would that change someday? Would that change when she
finally uncovered the truth of her birth? Would she hate him for hiding and lying? Severus
poured more fire whiskey, he’d deal with a hangover in the morning.
Chapter End Notes
Please leave a comment, I will try my best to answer all of them!
I hope to be able to update next Friday but I'm about to start my finals period and of
course, I'm behind on all my studies, but I will try my best to find time to update it
The title and quote at the beginning belong to Sleeping at Last's Seven.
there's a coin worth flipping
Chapter Notes
Hello!! Honestly, I don't know how I survived this week. I had to write a 10-page essay
and then present it, then take two exams on the same day, one for statistics and another
for epistemology, not to mention the Hungarian language exam when I can barely say
more than five words and to crown the week I just finished another five-page essay.
wohoo, next week we have more.
Anywayyy, I hope you enjoy this chapter, it's a short one but we have a few interesting
things being finally addressed!!
it's a silly dream,

dreaming of the imagery unfound
the view sits nice from that cloud
Chapter Seventeen
September, 1993. Hogwarts.
Someone would’ve thought that days with more hours would take longer to pass, but in
reality, it was like Hermione had thirty hours days crammed in five.
At first, she tried to only use the time turner for the classes at the same time, but she soon
realised that she not only needed more time for classes, she also needed more time to study.
After so many close calls, she knew it wasn’t a safe choice to use it inside toilet’s stalls.
Hermione was certain that if their boggart class had been that morning, she’d see herself
materialising seconds after a girl left that same stall. It was sheer luck that the girl didn’t look
behind herself and found Hermione frozen in panic.
The best option was Myrtle’s bathroom, but it was such a hassle going up and down between
classes and hiding not only from herself but also from her friends. Hermione had taken to
mark her exact position at each hour to know she wouldn’t stumble upon herself.
Theo was back on his favourite hobby of staring at her, but Hermione had to admit she
preferred his method on their first year, where he’d keep to himself all of his findings and
didn't make smart comments as he had taken to do now.
They were on their way to Potions when he smiled at her and asked. “Any last-minute run to
the restroom?”
“Not today,” she replied, used to him springing up questions that were a little too close to the
truth by now.
Pansy, thankfully oblivious to hers and Theo’s secret conversation caught up to them and
linked her arm with Hermione’s. “What are we doing for your birthday? It’s just around the
corner.” She said.
“I don’t know.” Hermione shrugged. “But I wanted it to be just us this time.”
“Us, us?” Pansy murmured, “or us Vince, Greg and the girls?”
Theo snorted and Hermione tried to not feel bad about it, but it was true how they all had
their small separated groups now. Ten was a lot to hang around together all the time. Milli
and Tracey had become best friends and rarely waited for them to go to classes or head to the
Great Hall. Vince and Greg were funny, and they often found Hermione for help, but she
didn’t have much to talk with them besides her attempts on making them learn something,
anything. She knew Theo and Blaise couldn’t care less about the two boys and only
entertained them when Draco brought them along. Not to mention the pair were almost
always glued to each other, but they tended to drag Hermione with them most of the time and
she loved them so much for it. And just like it was Theo and Blaise, Pansy and Daphne
became her third favourite duo.
Third favourite because she learned from the others that the same way she separated them in
pairs, the others did the same and paired her with Draco. It made her blush when they told her
because she loved the sound of Hermione and Draco. Every day that he stuck by her side on
corridors, engaged in lively discussions by the courtyard, she believed a little more that he
had changed.
“Us. The six of us.” She said with a smile and Pansy grinned.
“Perfect.”
Professor Snape was already waiting for them but didn’t bother to turn from the board to
greet them. It didn’t take a Seer to know that their Head of House despised teaching the
Slytherins and Gryffindors together and honestly, Hermione was curious about why they
always ended up paired together and not with the Ravenclaws or Hufflepuffs.
She found a table for herself and pulled Draco to sit with her, unfortunately, Harry and Ron
chose that same table and the four sat together, facing each other. To be honest, she didn’t
know if it was worse having Draco with Harry and Ron or leaving Longbottom with Vince
and Greg. Finnigan, who was also with them, had yet to finish a lesson without blowing up
something.
The potion they would be brewing wasn’t a difficult one, Hermione had practised it during
one of her study group meetings last year, so she only focused on making it better than her
last attempt. Professor Snape, as always walked around making comments and correcting
their mistakes, but something seemed to be bothering him because he seemed a bit distracted
and not his usual mean self.
“Hey, Harry,” Finnigan called, using Snape being on the other side of the class to lean over
their brass scales and talk. “Have you heard? The Daily Prophet said Black’s has been
sighted.”
“Where?” Harry asked, immediately interested. Even Draco by her side looked up to listen.
“Not too far from here,” the Irish boy said. Hermione furrowed her brows, he looked quite
excited about the news of a mass murderer being close to them. “It was a Muggle who saw
him. ‘Course, she didn’t really understand. The Muggles think he’s just an ordinary criminal,
don’t they? So, she phoned the telephone hotline. By the time the Ministry of Magic got
there, he was gone.”
Hermione was watching Harry’s reaction and missed Draco’s, so she jumped when Ron
called him out. “What, Malfoy? Need something else skinned?”
Draco’s eyes were shining malevolently, and they were fixed on Harry. Oh no. Hermione
thought. She hadn’t had time to tell him what she knew of Black. With everything that she
had going on, that bit of information had slipped her mind.
“Thinking of trying to catch Black single-handed, Potter?” Draco asked.
“Yeah, that’s right,” said Harry offhandedly. Hermione loved how Harry always took to
Draco’s comments with sarcasm. Draco’s thin mouth was curving in a mean smile.
“Of course, if it was me,” Draco said quietly, Hermione’s right hand disappeared from the
table and she posed it hovering on top of his thigh. “I’d have done something before now. I
wouldn’t be staying in school like a good boy, I’d be out there looking for him.” She sunk her
nails in a warning. He flinched and when she didn’t budge, he controlled his expression.
“What are you talking about, Malfoy?” asked Ron roughly.
“Ignore him, Harry,” Hermione said.
“Don’t you know, Potter?” breathed Malfoy, for she had craved her nails deeper still. His pale
eyes narrowed.
“Know what?” Harry asked and Draco let out his sneering laugh.
“Maybe you’d rather not risk your neck,” he said. “Want to leave it to the Dementors, do
you? But if it was me, I’d want revenge. I’d hunt him down myself.”
“What are you talking about?” asked Harry angrily, but at that moment Snape called, saving
Hermione and Draco’s neck.
“You should have finished adding your ingredients by now; this potion needs to stew before
it can be drunk, so clear away while it simmers and then we’ll test Longbottom’s...” Their
professor said and Hermione looked at the table next to hers and saw Vince and Greg
laughing openly, the Gryffindor had sweat dripping on his potion and Hermione knew it
wasn’t supposed to be an ingredient.
Harry and Ron packed away their unused ingredients and went to wash their hands and ladles
in the stone basin in the corner.
Hermione whirled toward Draco. “Don’t do that.”
There was a slight blush on his cheeks and his eyes were a little bluer than green. He shook
his head and smirked. “Why Granger, if I were him, I’d like to know.”
“You don’t want to tell him. You want to bait him. Leave Harry alone.” She hissed and Draco
arched a single eyebrow.
“But it’s fun.”
“No, Draco. It’s tragic.” She said with finality. “Both of his parents are dead; he doesn’t
know whether his sister is alive or dead and now the person responsible for his parents’ death
is at large and this person was his father’s best friend? He doesn’t need to learn that from
you.” Hermione picked her things to wash it.
Hermione knew she had to tell Harry the entire story and she hated it. She hated it that none
of the adults found it worth mentioning to him. She’d hate if she had to learn her entire life’s
history from people she didn’t know or in Harry’s case, by having to face it heads on.
...
Her birthday came and just as promised, Pansy secured from the kitchens a birthday cake and
they left their common room minutes before curfew to celebrate it in one of the many unused
classrooms in the dungeons.
“How does it feel to turn fourteen?” Blaise asked from the top of the desk he was sitting at.
“Much the same as turning thirteen.” She replied with a shrug.
Draco, beside her, leaned over. “I think you have more freckles this year.” He commented
and she batted his finger away from her cheeks.
Blaise laughed. “You will be a terrible drunk, Draco.” The boy said, “if this is you high on
sugar.”
Draco snorted. “Do you think we will get to drink butterbeer at Hogsmeade?” he asked.
“We have to ask one of the fifth years to buy for us,” Blaise said and Daphne clapped her
hands in excitement.
“I wish Halloween would come sooner.” The girl said, “we couldn’t even proper celebrate
last year because of the attacks.”
“You know what’s funny?” Hermione asked, “that muggles celebrate Halloween much as we
do. They got almost everything right.”
“Really?” Pansy asked, suspicious as a cat. “What do they do?”

“The main event is to dress up as something scary. Most people go as vampires and witches,
there are zombies as well and ghosts, and there’s also a lot of fake blood involved and it’s
very fun to shop for costumes. The night begins with children going from door to door,
saying Trick or Treat. Treat means the person gives them candies and other sweets, and trick
means the children can well, play a trick on the house.”
“What kind of trick?” Draco asked, clearly interested in this part.
“It varies. It can be something simple as breaking eggs against the door, covering the lawn
with toilet paper, sometimes it’s paint. A few teenagers and young adults use that day to make
mayhem. But usually, it ends up in a party somewhere, of course, I always had to go back
home and never went to a Halloween party.”
“I like it.” Daphne said, “Pansy I liked it.” The girl repeated with a grin. Pansy smirked back.
“Costumes, you say?”
“Knocking on the teacher’s door and asking for candy? Having the opportunity to break an
egg on Old McGonagall’s office?” Blaise was full-on grinning.
“I have to admit, Muggles aren’t so dumb as I thought,” Pansy said and Hermione knew the
girl was already planning her costume.
“We can have the party in here.” Draco said, “this classroom is big enough and—”
“We can’t throw a party in the castle!”
“Come on, Hermione!” Theo called, “loosen up.”
“We will lose points—”
“It’s not going to be us throwing the party,” Pansy said as it was obvious. “We are going to
make it look like it’s someone else. Maybe someone in Gryffindor.”
“No one in Gryffindor is fun enough to throw a party.” Theo pointed out.
“The Hufflepuffs then!” Daphne exclaimed.
And just like that, they began planning for a Halloween party. Draco stayed behind and
Hermione didn’t comment on it, not when he had decided to sit on the floor next to her to
watch their friends create crazy plan after plan.
Daphne became responsible for the invitations, Pansy for the decoration, Theo would have to
make someone get the drinks and Blaise would promote it. Hermione didn’t escape and
Pansy enrolled her to decide what would their costumes be.
She had to admit, it was a solid plan. Draco knew exactly what to do to keep suspicion away
from them –Hermione didn’t mention that it was a family trait—and as the night passed, they
had lined out all the gossipers in the castle and made plans to use them to spread the word of
the event.
They sneaked back to their common room in the early morning, miraculously escaping being
caught and when she laid on her bed, she fell asleep listening to Pansy’s sleepy murmurs of
decoration.
The weeks passed and true to their word, news of the party had spread, Hermione, more often
than not, glimpsed at purple-coloured envelopes being handed out and conversations about
whether to go as a bloodied healer or a limbless Auror became a common occurrence in
corridors. No one seemed to know who was the one responsible for it and Prefects tried and
failed to get any concrete information off the students. Percy Weasley, the Head Boy, was
often found yelling in exasperation to passing students. Even McGonagall interfered when
the Head Boy shook a poor first year too much.
The invitations were brilliant, and Hermione felt very proud of herself when she and a sixth
year Hufflepuff called Cedric Diggory managed to make the date and place of the party only
visible to people who had no intention of rattling them out. She only wished she could put
that on her curriculum.
So, by the fourth week of classes, despite knowing better, she found herself looking forward
to the party, which would be on the same day as their first Hogsmeade visit. Giving them an
opportunity to have the professors away from the school for most of the evening and for the
barely legal students to sneak drinks inside the castle. Not only that, but when September
rolled into October, she had begun to use her Time-Turner for stolen moments with Harry and
to attend her study groups.
Hermione knew she couldn’t risk it with her house friends, because if Theo had made that
comment on their first week, by now he was all back to his long glances and the staring. His
default mode whenever he wanted to understand something about her. If he only shared half
of his discoveries with her, Hermione thought her life would be much easier as he seemed to
know more about her than she did.
Harry was still shaken by the news of Black being spotted nearer to the castle and even
though he wouldn’t admit it, she also knew he was still feeling upset about not being able to
deal with his boggart. Hermione’s approach to mention Theo also not being able to do it
didn’t have the desired effect.
“Great,” he had said. “It only furthers Lupin’s views that I am weak.”
“It does no such thing.” She had snapped. “He let me deal with mine. I think it has more to
do with the boggart itself than with you. Theo’s was his father, and it was about to cast a spell
at him, by everyone’s reaction I’m assuming it was a bad one. I doubt Professor Lupin would
risk the spell to actually hurt Theo. The same goes for you. It was a dementor. What if it was
able to attack you or the other students?”
“Yeah, whatever.” Harry had muttered, clearly unconvinced.
Hermione glanced at her watch, she still had forty minutes before she was supposed to be
somewhere else.
“Harry,” Hermione called, almost a month had passed since Draco’s purposely slip and she
still hadn’t found the courage to talk to him about Black. “There’s something I need to tell
you.”
“What?”
“About Sirius Black.” She said and he backed away from her. They were sitting together on
one of the benches by the fountain in the courtyard, but she could see his body leaning away
from her. “I wanted to tell you on the train when you told me of your conversation with Ron’s
father, but—”
“Let me guess, another Malfoy-related information?”
“No.” She shook her head, “yes—” she sighed, “I mean, Sirius Black is Narcissa’s Malfoy
cousin.” She told him and Harry’s eyes widened. “When the news of his escape appeared on
the Daily Prophet, Aunt Cissy told us something.”
“You were with him over the summer?” Harry asked, suspicion clear on his tone. “You didn’t
say anything.”
“I know how you feel about him, I didn’t want to—”
“Go on,” he said, clearly not interested in her summer with the Malfoys. “What did she tell
you?”
“Black was the one to tell Lord Voldemort where your parents were.” Harry flinched. Anger
crept on Harry’s green eyes as swiftly as water. Hermione knew at once that she couldn't tell
him the rest. Not now at least.
“What?” He gasped. “But—” He stopped and shook his head. “It makes sense now.” He
chuckled in contempt. “Why Arthur was so worried I’d go after him, he made me promise I
wouldn’t seek him out no matter what I heard. He knew.” Hermione nodded. “Malfoy knows
it too, that is what he was trying to say that day in Potions. You kept him from saying it.”
“I didn’t want you to learn from him,” Hermione told him.
“It took you long enough.”
“We barely had time to talk this year.” She tried to explain. “I didn’t know how to approach it
but, with him being sighted closer to the castle, I just knew I had to.” No one seemed to tell
him anything, she thought. If it was true if Sirius Black was friends with the Potters, for
certain McGonagall and Dumbledore knew it too. Hermione feared Harry would go after him
with just this, she was certain he’d promptly leave if he knew the entire truth.
“Thank you, though.” He said after a while. “You know how I hate everyone else knowing
more about my family than I do.” He sighed, “and everyone seems to know something that I
don’t.”
Hermione reached for Harry’s hand. “It’s all right.”

“Do you think he knows where she is?” Harry asked, “my sister?”
“How could he? He has been in Azkaban for the last thirteen years.”
Finally, Halloween arrived, and the school was buzzing with anticipation. Hermione wished
she could enjoy more, but Crookshanks had disappeared two days prior and she had no idea
where he was. “I bet he’s all right Hermione,” Draco told her as they got ready to visit the
village. “He’s a smart cat. Always running after Weasley’s stupid rat.”
She rolled her eyes, “Ron insists that I make Crookshanks go after Scabbers on purpose.”
Draco snorted.
“Typical.”
At that moment, two seventh years passed carrying one of the coffee tables and almost
knocked Hermione with it, Draco pulled her away by the pocket of her hoodie and she ended
up pressed against his chest. Hermione blushed and she saw him gulping as he looked down.
“Thanks,” she mumbled and stepped back, putting some distance between them. His hand
remained wrapped in her pocket.
“We all ready?” Blaise asked. Draco pulled away and nodded to his friend. “Was that the
table for the drinks?” He asked and Hermione rolled her eyes. She didn’t agree with the idea
of using Slytherin furniture for the party. So much for keeping them from taking the blame.
“Yeah. I heard the Hufflepuffs are lending some barrels.” Draco said and Blaise ticked an
invisible point in his also invisible list.
Their costumes had arrived by owl post the previous morning and Hermione blushed when
she remembered the piece of fabric that Pansy swore was a Greek tunic. The girls were all
going as Greek goddesses. Hermione, of course, was Athena, Pansy declared that she must be
Persephone and Hermione agreed. Who else better to be the queen of the underworld?
Daphne settled for Aphrodite.
They talked all the way to the courtyard and upon seeing Professor Snape, shut up and all
talks of parties and costumes were postponed. He glared at them, no doubt knowing about the
party and trying to scare them into telling.
Hermione and Draco shared a carriage with Milli and Tracey to Hogsmeade and for the
whole ride, the two girls stared at Draco unabashedly and tried to contain their giggles.
Hermione arched an eyebrow in question, but they ignored her, and Hermione felt herself
sliding closer to him. She caught a glimpse of the glass and she could swear Draco was
smirking, but she knew it was impossible because he had been looking outside for the entire
time and therefore missed the girls’ antics.
Thankfully, the girls quickly walked away when they reached the village and Hermione
glared at their backs until they disappeared from view. Draco bumped his arm on her side,
“what’s wrong?” He asked.
“Nothing. Just thinking.” She said and pulled him to explore the village with her.
For the first two hours, Hermione and Draco walked by themselves. Draco, the sweet tooth
that he was, had to be dragged away from Honeydukes after he had way more than he could
carry on his basket. Hermione was thankful that the blonde didn’t see Ron eyeing Draco’s
basket and how the Gryffindor was clearly trying to decide which one to bring in what could
only possibly be a very small amount of money.
They visited Tomes and Scrolls and while not being as great as Flourish and Blott’s, it was
she who had to be dragged away this time. They also visited Spintwiches for some Quidditch
supplies that Draco assured he had to get and when Hermione bought a new quill and ink at
Srivenshaft’s Quill Shop, he also got one for his parents as gifts.
It was only around lunchtime that Hermione realised that she and Draco had strolled around
Hogsmeade by themselves, out and about in front of everyone and not once did Draco treat
her different, not even when other people clearly recognised him and sent their regards to his
father. With a warm heart and cheeks flushed, Hermione found the others at the Three
Broomsticks and got slightly tipsy with the Butterbeer. After eating and drinking, they all
went to Zonko’s, the famous joke store. It was packed with students and they all seemed to be
buying stuff for their Halloween’s pranks. Vince and Greg were filling their pockets with
everything the Weasley’s Twins also got.
Hermione found Milli and Tracey and again they were giggling at Draco, the girls were
around an aisle filled with hearts and pink bubbles, Hermione felt itchy to drag Draco away
from them.
Theo got into her line of sight and was coming in her direction. “Hey,” he said, “want to walk
around? Blaise seems to need at least three more hours and I’m done with all these people.”
“Sure. Have you visited the Shrieking Shack yet?” She asked. “Draco was too scared to go.”
“Blaise too.” He smirked. “Do you want to pay a visit?”
She nodded and together they left the chaos of the shop. The road leading to the Shack was
empty and Theo sighed beside her with the silence. He was never one to enjoy too much
noise. “What do you think of our Defence teacher so far?” He asked her.
“I think he’s brilliant.” She answered honestly. “We’ve covered so much already in just this
first month. Red Caps, besides being nasty little goblin-like creatures, I found them
fascinating and Kappas are quite creepy, but it was so nice going out in the Black Lake to
study them.”
“Yeah, I agree.”
“Are you still upset about not being able to deal with your Boggart on your own?”
“Not really, Professor Lupin asked me to stay a bit after class, remember?” He asked and
Hermione nodded. Something moved on the bush next to her and she turned, slightly scared.
Theo chuckled. “Jumpy already?”
“Shut up,” she hissed. “I think there’s something there.”
“Maybe.” He shrugged, “maybe it’s just the wind. Anyways, he explained to me why he
didn’t let me deal with it then.”
“Why was that?” She asked, paying attention to Theo but still eyeing the bush, she was
certain there was something there. It seemed to follow them.
Theo sighed. “Do you know the spell it was about to cast?” he asked her, and she shook her
head. The boggart-Nott Senior had barely uttered past three syllables when Professor Lupin
intervened. “It was the Killing Curse.” He told her, “one of the three Unforgivables. You use
any of them and you get sent to a life in Azkaban. Of course, the spell wouldn’t really work,
but he didn’t want us seeing the curse so soon, we are not supposed to learn about them until
much later.”
“It was the curse which killed Harry’s parents, isn’t it?”
“Yes. No one survives it and you can’t use Protego to shield you from it, you simply die.
Instantaneously, painlessly.” He explained and Hermione was proud to say that she knew him
well enough to understand his tone and that he was probably telling her something personal.
Hermione didn’t comment, only linked her arm with his and pulled him closer to her. He
lowered his head and whispered in her ear. “I think you are right.”
“What?”
He didn’t explain, only pulled her behind him and picked up a pebble from the ground.
“Show yourself.” Theo snapped and threw the pebble at the bush.
A cat hissed and when it left the bush, Hermione recognised it as Crookshanks.
“Crookshanks!” She said and picked her cat up. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” She
held her cat and turned to Theo, “I think he has been following us all this time.”
But Theo ignored her and kept looking at the bush. “No, it’s something else.” He said and
this time he grabbed a handful of pebbles from the ground and threw it.
Hermione gasped as an enormous black dog appeared from the bush. It was clearly in need of
a bath and a brush, not to mention a bit of food. The dog sat on his back legs and seemed to
stare at her. She cocked her head to the side and when she looked into those yellow gleaming
eyes a memory came to mind. It was her, maybe when she was a toddler, and she was riding
on the back of a black dog with yellow eyes just like this one. “It can’t be.” She muttered.
“What?” Theo asked, he still had his body mostly in front of her.
“There’s this memory just now.” She said, eyes still trained on the dog. “Of me riding on the
back of a dog just like this one.” She said and the dog seemed to understand her because his
ears flapped up in attention. “I was laughing, and the dog was running in circles across a
table.”
“I didn’t know you had a dog.”

“I don’t. That’s why it’s weird. My father is allergic, he couldn’t even get near one and
neither could we because he’d get a reaction from us.” She told him, “but it’s a memory. I’m
sure it is.”
Theo looked between her and the dog. “I think it’s a memory.” He said and pulled her along,
to keep going in the direction of the Shrieking Shack. “One from a very long time ago.”
Hermione snorted. “Why are you so cryptical?”
“It’s part of my charm.” He replied with a grin.
Neither mentioned the fact that the dog decided to tag along and when Crookshanks
scratched her enough, she allowed him to get back on the ground and kept an eye on both
animals.
They reached the fence that separated the abandoned building and neither of them dared to go
further. “Did you hear those towners talking at the pub?” She asked him.
“About the shack?”
“Yeah, one of them has lived here for over thirty years and he was telling his friends about
how the noises and the banging had started again last month, after fifteen years of silence.”
“Maybe it’s really haunted.”
“Maybe the old tenant moved back.” She joked and Theo snorted.
They looked at the house, it was creepy how not even birds seemed to want to land on the
roof.
“I know you saw it too, Granger.” He said after a while. They had climbed the fence and sat
on top of it, they were taking turns throwing twigs to the dog, which seemed more than eager
to play fetch.
“What?” She asked him.
“Tracey and Milli were all giggly about Draco.” Hermione felt her small smile dropping.
“Something about him turning into a man,” Theo explained, his voice filled with mirth.
“Man?” Hermione laughed. “He’s thirteen. Do they fancy him?” She asked.
“I think they do. Or their parents told them they should.” Theo shrugged.
“When I was at the manor during summer, Mr Parkinson came over to discuss courting,”
Hermione told him; she only hoped her tone didn’t give her away. The look he gave her
showed her that it had.
“He came over as well. But I think Mr Greengrass beat him to it. Not that it mattered, I made
it clear I had no intention of marrying either of them.”
“I take it your father didn’t like that very much.”
“Well, you saw me on the train.”
“Theo, is it bad that I hate your father?”
“I’d find it worse if you didn’t.”
“Yeah.” She said and tried to focus on the dog, but even the animal seemed more interested in
the conversation than in fetching twigs. “Do you know if he likes—” she stopped. What good
would that do?
“He doesn’t.”
“What?”
“He doesn’t like them, Hermione.” He said and smirked at what he was probably seeing
stamped on her face. “At least he hasn’t talked to me or Blaise about it.”
“Hm.” She hummed, not wanting to say anything else on the matter.
“Can I say something?” He asked and she nodded, “I think you going to hex me for it, but I
just have to say it.”
“What?” She asked with narrowing eyes.
“I was counting how long it would take for you to ask that.”
“Ask what?”
“Don’t play dumb Hermione, it doesn’t suit you.” He said with a smirk.
“You are right, I might hex you.” She replied and even though the dog was sprawled by their
feet and had completely ignored their last throws, she threw the twig the farthest she could.
“They are all giggling, but soon they will try something. You've seen Pansy, she has no
qualms about fawning over him even though she doesn't like him that way." Hermione could
remember quite clearly how Pansy fawned over Draco. "And I don't think it's fair because
you are the only one genuine about your feelings for him.” Hermione knew she was burning
scarlet. She had never mentioned that to anyone, honestly, she had barely thought of it
herself.
“Some days I can’t decide if he even likes me as a person.” She said, bitterness flowing like a
river. “I’m not the best suited.” She replied and her voice betrayed her.
“Aren’t you?” He asked with an eyebrow raised and calculating blue eyes. She hated when he
looked at her like he knew things about her that she didn’t like she was a puzzle he had
solved faster than anyone else.
“You aren’t doing anything either.” She snapped.

Theo smirked. “I don’t fancy Draco.”
“No. You fancy someone else.” She retorted. “I say it again, you aren’t doing anything
either.” The dog barked and Hermione could swear it was laughing at Theo. The boy
narrowed his eyes at the animal and Hermione bit down a giggle.
“Meddling now, are we? Potter’s life has gotten boring?”
“I wish.” She snorted. “But don’t evade. I think you should tell him.”
Theo smirked again. She hated how his go-to reaction for absolutely everything was to smirk.
“Him?” He asked with an eyebrow raised. The dog sat and was looking at Theo with its
gleaming eyes. Almost like it was waiting for Theo’s reply.
“Don’t play dumb, it doesn’t suit you.” She mimicked him.
Theo barked out a laugh. The dog barked too; Hermione giggled. “Oh my, Hermione. Going
against my father’s wishes was worth it.” He laughed and then paused, smirking again.
“Maybe I should do it again.” He said.
It was Hermione’s turn to smirk. “You should.”
“Are you going to keep my secret, Miss Granger?”
“Of course.” She said, “best friends and all that.”
“I will tell Blaise that.”
“After or before?” She asked and Hermione had to bite down on her lower lip to keep from
laughing. She didn’t want to risk being pushed down the fence and meeting the ground face
first.
Theo grinned. “You little snake.”
“I have figured it out by now,” she said, getting down the fence herself. “I’m only in
Slytherin to prove you how much of a snake I can be.”
Theo laughed and she smiled at him, it was so very rare to see it and she felt like she needed
to cherish it. He jumped and landed next to her. “I told you first.”
“Thank you.”
“Best friends and all that.” He smiled and threw his arm around her shoulder. “Let’s head
back? We have a party to attend.”
Hermione snorted. “We are so getting in trouble for that.”
“Someone probably will.” He agreed, “but it won’t be us.”
Crookshanks followed them back and thankfully, the dog stayed behind.
Once together with the others, Hermione couldn’t help but keep noticing Theo’s and Blaise’s
behaviour. She wondered for how long now Theo knew about his feelings and what it was
like finding out. It had been quite obvious before, that was the only reason she had been that
bold with him and Hermione was almost absolutely certain that Blaise felt the same, she
giggled to herself imagining the two together.
They were returning to the castle and talking excitedly about the party and the trick and
treating they’d do before it, a little ahead of them was Flint and a couple of his friends and
they were purposely staggering on their feet so it would catch Filch’s attention and have him
occupied so the others – the ones carrying drinks – could enter the castle without being
found.
Theo was right, someone would get in trouble and it wasn’t going to be them.
Everyone was returning earlier to the castle, eager to enjoy the festivities and Hermione and
the girls were quick to run to their common room and change into their costumes.
“That’s not fun!” Pansy whined, “You are no fun, Granger.”
“I’m not going with only this!” She replied, her cheeks burning. Her shoulders had been
showing, her barely-there cleavage as well. Hermione wasn’t like Milli who had begun
growing a pair of boobies last year. Even Pansy, who was skinnier than Hermione, had more
than her.
“Well, I’m going,” Pansy said and put her sceptre and sheaf of wheat on her bed. Her green
tunic was beautiful, long and flowing. Hermione didn’t know how she did it, but its colour
reminded Hermione of spring. Daphne was finishing putting the pansies on Pansy's head
where the wreath would be.
“It’s fitting Pans,” Tracey said, she and Milli were going as mermaids, “to be the Goddess of
Spring since you are named after a flower.”
“I know.” She said and smiled at her reflection in the mirror.
Daphne, like Pansy, had opted to go without a shirt underneath her tunic and was ready. She
had styled her hair in curls and her tunic was light pink and the pieces holding it together was
small doves, one of Aphrodite’s symbols, on her head was a wreath of myrtle.
Hermione’s own tunic was white, just like her t-shirt underneath. On her hair, Daphne had
entwined dozens of olive branches that looked like they fell from the olive wreath at the
crown of her head.
“I must admit,” Pansy said, waving Hermione’s staff around, “this is nice. I wish I had
something cool like this.”
Hermione chuckled. “You don’t need this. You had a Cerberus.” Pansy smirked and
Hermione rolled her eyes at the giant look of superiority the raven-haired hair had.
“It’s a pity I couldn’t convince Greg and Vince to be two heads of my Cerberus. I will have to
bully them into submission later tonight.”
“Do you think the boys are ready?” Daphne asked. “I don’t trust them to get the theme right.”
Pansy scoffed. “Blaise is vainer than you Daph, he spent the last couple of days quizzing
Hermione on Dionysius symbols.”
The girls only left their common room when Pansy was satisfied with all their looks and
Hermione left feeling her face heavier than normal with the amount of makeup Pansy and
Daphne had applied on her.
The boys were already there and a group of Slytherins were arguing with Vince and Greg.
Hermione didn’t understand but she knew they were probably wearing something offensive
by the expressions on everyone’s face.
“They’ve got to be kidding me,” Pansy said when she saw them. “I knew they were planning
something stupid when they didn’t want to be my dogs.”
Hermione got closer to the commotion and managed to hear pieces of it.
“You can get an expulsion—”
“—no respect to your friend!”
“Snape will kill you—”
“Your father would be furious—”
She nudged Blaise, making sure to touch his tunic and not all the skin he was showing. It was
a lot. If Hermione thought theirs was lacking fabric, the boys’ were even worse. Half of their
chests were on display. “What’s going on?” Hermione asked.
“Those two decided it would be fun to go dressed as Death Eaters.” Blaise snarled and
Hermione gasped. “They even have their fathers’ masks, which is so irresponsible because it
proves they are indeed Death Eaters.”
“Are they stupid?” Hermione asked.
“Probably,” Theo said, coming up from her other side. “Goddess Athena.” He greeted.
She smiled at him. “God Apollo.”
“Merlin, don’t flirt in front of me,” Blaise said with a shudder.
“Shut up Blaise,” Draco said, coming from nowhere carrying two pieces of sheets. He didn’t
even stop, merely threw the sheets at his friends and grabbed the masks from their hands
before going back to his dormitory.
“You are getting your myths twisted.” Theo said, “Apollo and Athena share a father and they
were never love interests.”
“Who was Apollo’s love interest?” Blaise asked and Hermione could swear she saw Theo
blushing.
“He fucked up,” Theo said and Hermione snorted. What a way to summarise Apollo’s myth.
“He infuriated Eros, the cupid, and in return, Eros pierced him with an arrow that made him
love a nymph called Daphne, but at the same time, he pierced Daphne with an arrow that
made her loath him.”
“Good to know,” Blaise said and threw a grape on his mouth without any warning. It caught
his cheek. Theo rolled his eyes.
“Dionysius had a thing with Aphrodite.” Hermione told him and she laughed when both
Blaise and Daphne made a face of disgust at each other.
Draco had returned by then and Hermione had to look away when she saw him. On his left
hand was his sceptre and on top of his head, a wreath of a serpent entwined. He was not only
the God of the Underworld but the King of Slytherin as well.
Theo played a few strings on his harp and Hermione elbowed him.
“All set,” Pansy said and she had dragged Vince and Greg with her, she had gotten her dogs
at last. “They were terrible ghosts, but it’s what I could do in such short notice.”
“Who’s that?” Daphne asked because there was another boy dressed like Vince and Greg.
“A first year. He’s going to be the third head.” Pansy replied and Hermione shook her head in
disbelief. “Hello, husband.” Pansy greeted Draco and the boy winked at her.
Slowly, the rest of the Slytherins appeared and the common room got crowded. Not everyone
would go trick and treat, the older students would go straight to the party and the younger
ones would play as a distraction.
Hermione was grinning when they left their common room, everyone was in costumes and
Hermione could spot vampires, trolls, quidditch players, ghosts and other bloody beings.
There was a group of students from other houses gathered near Professor Snape’s office—
their first stop. Hermione recognised the youngest Weasley and the twins from Gryffindor.
She saw a girl with hair like Draco’s and when she turned to ask him, she found him already
looking. “Is it her?” She asked, “Your cousin?”
He nodded. “What is she wearing?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowed.
“Who?” A boy Hermione didn’t know asked, “Luna?” He pointed to the girl in question.
“Nobody bloody knows.” He shrugged. “She’s kind of a weirdo.” He said in menace. “We
call her Looney Lovegood in Ravenclaw.”
Draco didn’t reply, but Hermione noticed that he didn’t like what the boy said about his
cousin.
“Hermione!” Blaise called from the front; the boy was perfect for the God he represented.
There was no one more excited for tonight’s events than the God of Festivity. Blaise was
already talking with a group of Hufflepuffs and they were all listening to him in great
attention. Almost like they were drawn to his every word. “You need to be the one to knock!”
He said and Hermione wished she didn’t expect that and with a sigh, went to the door, Draco
followed her. “If he sees you first, we are less likely to die.”
She snorted but a giddily part of her agreed with him. Hermione knocked and after a very
long minute where they held their breaths in anticipation, Professor Snape opened his office’s
door. “Trick or Treat!” They all called.
Their Head of house and Potions professor glared at them all. He glared at her first and then
dragged his narrowed eyes from one expectant face to another. His murderous expression
didn’t wave for a second.
“Let me guess,” he drawled. “You are Athena.” He asked Hermione and she grinned.
“Yes.” She replied and showed him her staff and aegis. Blaise gasped, and he wasn’t the only
one, because Snape’s lips had curled up minimally, almost a smile. Well, for his standards, it
was a smile.
“Hades,” he said to Draco. “Apollo, Dionysius, Aphrodite and Persephone.” He nodded to

each of them and they all nodded, he had gotten all of them right. “Was it you who picked the
gods?” Snape asked Hermione and she nodded. “It’s fitting.” He said and Hermione grinned
again. This was praise in Snape’s language.
He waved his wand and, in all their buckets, appeared a dozen of candies. They all exclaimed
and shouted their thanks, quickly moving on to the next professor.
Hermione was having a lot of fun. They had to explain the event to Flitwick, who knew
nothing of muggle customs and the tiny professor laughed when a Gryffindor moved
forward, and they saw he was dressed up as their Charms Professor. “Fantastic!” he said,
“Amazing use of magic! Here, here, take it.” He waved his wand and more candies appeared
in their buckets. Filch sent them running and they were all more than eager to make fun of
him and the twins set off their newest purchases from Zonkos’. Professor McGonagall,
another strict professor gave them a smile and a ten-minute lecture on the story of her name
and how it was the Roman representation of Athena before giving them candy.
Professor Lupin opened his door and they all laughed when they saw he was wearing Peeves’
clothes. He gave them lots of chocolate and other things from Honeydukes and they all
thanked him earnestly.
Besides Filch, only Professor Trelawney and Professor Vector got tricked and they ran from
the Astronomy Tower laughing.
The party was already on its way when they arrived, and Hermione giggled and twirled with
her friends alongside the music. Even the ghosts showed up and kept popping out of nowhere
to scare and leave them in a fit of giggles.
Dinner came and no one bothered to go to the Great Hall to eat, Hermione had a half of mind
to think about the professor’s reaction to the hall half empty, but before she could think too
much of it, Draco was dragging her to yet another song and she found that laughing and
holding hands with him was much more fun than worrying.
Pansy joined her a few songs later and Hermione went to grab some water, Daphne was there,
and the girl had her cheeks flushed and hair slightly askew. “I think I danced too much.”
Daphne giggled.
“Me too,” Hermione said, giggling as well. “It’s crazy how no one appeared yet. It’s like they
are letting us get away with it.”
Daphne shook her head. “They locked Filch in his office. That’s why he hasn’t crashed the
party yet.” Hermione looked scandalised and Daphne laughed at her expression. “Come on,
it’s just for tonight and it’s not like you aren’t having--” She stopped and looked over
Hermione’s shoulder. She got paler by the second. Hermione moved to turn and try to find
what Daphne’s had been looking at, but Daphne held her arm. “Don’t—”
“Oh.”
Pansy’s hands were on Draco’s neck, but it felt they were around Hermione’s heart,
squeezing it. It grew heavy on her ribcage and she thought Pansy’s lips were also stealing her
breath, not only Draco’s because Hermione couldn’t breathe, not with the scene in front of
her. She closed her hands in fists at the same time Draco got his around Pansy’s waist and it
was good that neither had their eyes open because they wouldn’t see the hot tears forming on
her eyes.
It hurt, in a way Hermione couldn’t quite explain and even though hurt, she couldn’t look
away, she couldn’t take her eyes away from them and their kiss.
“Hey,” Theo appeared in her line of sight, “let’s go for air really quick.” He said and she
nodded, unblinking.
“Do you have it covered?” Blaise asked Daphne and the girl nodded. “We will be right back.”
Together, they left the party and the sudden silence outside made the ringing in her ears
louder. “There’s a silencing spell.” She murmured, in dire need to talk about anything other
than what Theo and Blaise had planned by their expressions.
“Yeah, a seventh year cast it. There’s also a disillusionment charm on the door. Only people
with an invite can see it.”
“Cool.” She mumbled and she tried to remember where she read about these types of magic
and how to cast them, but every book and passage had been replaced by Draco and Pansy
kissing.
“Granger,” Blaise called and pulled her to sit on the floor, Theo followed them. The stone
wall was cold, and she got distracted for a second by how much longer their legs were
compared to hers. “That doesn’t mean anything.”
“I know.” She said, pulling her knees against her chest.
“I bet it’s just a one-off kiss.” Theo agreed, “for the sake of the costume.”
Hermione saw from the corner of her eyes Blaise elbowing Theo. Hermione snorted. “I don’t
see Blaise kissing Daphne.”
“Well, I’m not stupid,” Blaise said. “And we all know that both Draco and Pansy are.”
At that moment, a couple stumbled out of the party and the trio watched them grope each
other all the way to the nearest alcove.
“You can go back there, it’s okay.” She said and they both denied, saying they had had
enough already. Hermione knew they were lying, but selfishly, she didn’t insist, and she
leaned her head on Blaise’s –clothed—shoulder. “Thank you.”
Severus knew the moment he opened his door and found his daughter grinning from ear to
ear dressed as an Olympian that his Occlumency had gone and said goodbye. Hiding the truth
for twelve years from the most powerful wizard alive? Easy. Hiding your true feelings from
your daughter with a bucket of candy saying Trick or Treat? Impossible.
He wasn’t surprised to see them there; the entire staff of the castle had known of the students’
plans and had decided to look the other way. The professors tried to hide their pleasure with
how efficient and smart their planning skills were. He had to admit, the spell on the invitation
was brilliant. Severus was certain they were teaching to shape them into prepared and
responsible wizards and witches, not to use their magic to hide a party from the annoying
Head Boy.
Forty minutes after his students knocked on his door, there was another knock. Severus also
knew who it could be this time. He just didn’t expect to find Remus wearing the poltergeist’s
clothes.
“How old are you? Twelve?” He asked in a snarl and stepped aside to let the man in.
Remus snorted and offered him a bottle of Fire whiskey from Rosmerta’s. “There’s
something called fun Severus, it brings laughter out of people.”
“I’m impressed that you remember what it is.”
“Being around them makes even the most depressed man happy.” Remus said. “Did you see
her? So cute. I wanted to squeeze her; how do you manage?” He asked but didn’t wait for
Severus’ reply. “Oh, I forgot. You are a brilliant actor, faking surprise and being all
questioning when I told Albus about Hermione.”
“I don’t know if you recall,” Severus began, “but Albus wasn’t paying attention to anything
but the fact that Hermione’s the missing sister.”
Remus sighed. “We were right.” He said, “many times over the years I wondered if we did
the right thing by hiding her, but it’s been two months now and he hasn’t said a word to her
yet. Not even to Harry. One would imagine that this kind of information should be revealed
to the concerning parts.”
“He’s waiting for the best moment to tell.” Severus scowled, “he’s going to hold the
information until is convenient for him.”
“Harry dreams of her. He told me what he saw when the Dementor attacked. It’s not fair that
we keep this information from him. If Dumbledore plans on using the information for his
own agenda, we should tell him instead. Hermione and Harry adore each other, they should
enjoy the entirety of their relationship on their own accord, not as pawns in someone else’s
game.”
“You forget one thing.”
“Voldemort knows the truth, Severus. He’s not dead. You can’t risk having him reveal the
truth and losing them both.”
“I won’t allow Dumbledore to use her as something to control me,” Severus said, hissed,
almost. “Merlin knows he already has too much.”
Remus sighed. “We should’ve put her in France, have her sent to Beaubaxtons.”
Severus could almost agree with that if it wasn’t for how much he’d grown to need her
presence and for her effect in Slytherin. “She got her entire uppity house to celebrate the date
in muggle-fashion,” Severus commented and Remus drank to that.
“I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw them on my door. All the houses together.” Remus
smiled and even though he seemed happy, there wasn’t a way to hide the marks that the
coming transformation had on him. Remus caught him staring and he sighed, the small smile
still in place. “I talked to Harry earlier today, he tried to warn me against drinking the potion
you made. Something about you trying to poison me to get my position?” Remus asked and
mirth filled his voice.
“As if I’d do something as obvious as to poison you,” Severus replied.
“Well, thank you.”
“Have I told you that once Hermione helped me brew your potion?” Severus asked and
Remus shook his head. “It was during the Christmas break on her first year.”
“She is brilliant, isn’t she?” Remus asked; his look far away. “Lily would be so fucking
proud.”
Severus took a sip on the fire whiskey. “I think she’d have something to say about all the
rules the girl breaks.”
“Is someone going to stop the party?” He asked absentmindedly, clearly non-perturbed
whether the party went on for the entire night or not.
“Eventually,” Severus said.
When it was time for dinner, Remus went back to his office to change out of his ridiculous
clothes and Severus ignored the confused looks from the students present at the Halloween
feast. Apparently, Potter and Weasley hadn’t been invited. Severus scoffed. If he had any
doubt on who were the ones behind the party, now it was obvious. Of course, it came from
his house and the little shits went beyond themselves to look like they had nothing to do with
it.
There were only a few Slytherin, mostly first years present; the majority of Hufflepuff was
also absent and he’d say half of the Ravenclaw house was in the Great Hall. The Gryffindors
were mostly accounted for, baring the older students.
Halfway through dinner, Filch and Pomona appeared, the former was fuming, while the latter
was trying not to laugh.
“What happened?” Septima asked.
Pomona chuckled. “The students locked Filch inside his office so he wouldn’t try to catch
them. He was screaming himself hoarse when I passed by.” Remus, who was sitting on
Septimas’s other side snorted so loudly that he got the attention of several students.
Sometimes he wondered who were more childish, the students or the faculty.
As always, the Halloween Feast was delicious, he’d go as far as to say it was his favourite,
the elves did an even better job than for Christmas last year. After dinner, he excused himself
from having drinks with his colleagues in the staff room and went straight to his office,
knowing full well he’d have to wake up early and pick up stragglers from the party.
Instead, Severus had barely entered his private quarters when the Bloody Baron swooped in.
“Dumbledore wants you at the Gryffindor Tower. It seems like someone has tried to enter the
Tower.” The ghost said and Severus tensed.
His immediate reaction was to go find his daughter, but he had to be rational, and the
Gryffindor tower was hundreds of steps away from the dungeons.
He rushed through the castle and along the way found Minerva and Remus, also rushing
there. Severus glared at Remus, who looked white as a sheet, like someone who had seen
death. Or maybe the ghost of his ex-boyfriend.
Remus looked at Severus and shook his head, mouthing ‘I swear Severus’ which only made
him angrier.
Albus was looking sombre, and he didn’t waste a moment on Remus, turning to Minerva.
“We need to find the Fat Lady. Professor McGonagall, please go to Mr Filch at once and tell
him to search every painting in the castle for the Fat Lady.”
“You’ll be lucky!” Peeves said, bobbing over the crowd and looking far too pleased with the
situation.
“What do you mean, Peeves?” Albus asked.
“Ashamed, Your Headship, sir. Doesn’t want to be seen. She’s a horrible mess. Saw her
running through the landscape up on the fourth floor, sir, dodging between the trees. Crying
something dreadful.” He gave the bad news happily. Minerva huffed and the poltergeist
added “Poor thing.”
“Did she say who did it?”
“Oh, yes, Professorhead” Peeves nodded vigorously, said, “He got very angry when she
wouldn’t let him in, you see.” Severus tensed yet again, and Remus held onto the handrail.
Peeves, delighted by their reaction, flipped over and grinned between his legs. “Nasty temper
he’s got, that Sirius Black.”
The Gryffindors gasped and before they could start murmuring, Albus sent them all to the
Great Hall with Minerva. As the students were leaving the other Head of Houses arrived,
“Professors, I think it’s time to stop that party happening downstairs. I want every student in
the Great Hall. Severus get the ones partying to the Hall while the others get the ones in their
common rooms. We will have to search the castle.”
The moment Dumbledore turned around, Severus grabbed Remus and pushed him against the
wall. Remus struggled and this close to the moon, he was stronger than Severus. “I didn’t
help him.” He growled and his eyes flashed.
“I swear Lupin if I find out you—”
“Look inside!” He hissed. “I didn’t know. I was with you the entire evening, you fool.” He
snapped.
Severus let him go, not before giving him one last shove. “Let’s go.” He said.
They hushed downstairs and saw that a few portraits and ghosts followed them through the
floors. Severus scowled and barked orders for them to search for Black instead.
It took everything on him to not gather her in his arms the moment he saw her. She was
sitting on the floor with Zabini and Nott, three dishevelled Olympians. The trio snapped to
their feet at the sight of them.
“We—” Zabini started.
“What happened?” Hermione asked, taking sight of their expressions.
“Go to your dorm immediately.” He ordered, “put on your pyjamas, everyone’s sleeping in
the Great Hall tonight.”
“Why?” Blaise asked.

“Do as I say.” He hissed and the boy nodded.
“Are you all right, Professor?” Hermione asked Remus, who had yet to return to his normal
colour. The man forced a grin for her, or maybe it wasn’t forced, as his eyes softened. Remus
put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed a little.
“I’m all right, Hermione.” He said and Severus noticed how Remus’ eyes focused a bit. “Go,
now.”
“Keep an eye on her, Nott,” Severus said and the boy nodded.
Chapter End Notes
I haven't had the time to reply to your comments but I have read all of them and will try
to go over them this weekend!! Thank you so much for all the support, I really can't
believe that his story got over 3k hits in just a week!! thank you thank you thank you
The title and quote at the beginning belong to Homage by Mild High Club
exhales and in the hope of open hands
Chapter Notes
Hello!! An early update just in time for Christmas! I wanted to give this little present to
everyone that has been reading this story, thank you so much!! It's been lovely sharing
this story with all of you!
I want to break it into pieces

small enough to understand
And put it all back together again
In the quiet of my private collection
Chapter Eighteen
November, 1993. Hogwarts.
In the days that passed, the only thing in the minds of every student was: how did Sirius
Black get in?
Not even the Quidditch Match on Saturday was enough to distract everyone. The stories grew
more elaborated and borderline impossible as the days went, Hermione couldn’t believe how
anyone seemed to not have read Hogwarts, a history.
Hermione mentioned just that over breakfast, “There’re so many things protecting the castle.
All sorts of enchantments, no one can apparate in the grounds and I bet no disguise can fool
those dementors.” They basically ignored her, and she rolled her eyes and resumed her cereal.
She knew that searches around the castle had gone well into the night and even though the
professors hadn’t found a thing, they were all on edge. Professor McGonagall was clearly
shaken, and Hermione thought the professor didn’t notice that she kept touching the ceramic
cat figure she had on her desk. Professor Snape was even more strict and nothing but perfect
potions were acceptable. Professor Trelawney babbled that she had seen that coming on the
tea leaves and she had the audacity of taking five points from Hermione when she asked why
the professor hadn’t told them about it and tried to catch him on the act. Since Halloween,
Professor Lupin was only seen in classes, he hadn’t taken a single meal at the Great Hall.
Hermione noticed he looked quite sick.
On Wednesday evening, she found herself surrounded by homework and a stupid parchment
about the importance of the full moon for Divination, which was going to happen tomorrow.
She was testing her luck, she knew, because there were currently three Hermiones studying
around the castle as she had gone back two times to finish all her homework in the one-hour
slot between the last class and dinner.
After finally finishing the paper on the full moon, she went to Professor Lupin’s office to ask
him whether she could write two more pages in her assignment because even her tiniest
letters weren’t enough to fit everything that she wanted to write on Hinkypunks. She knocked
and waited, when no one replied she opened the door a little and spied inside, only to find it
empty. Sighing, she decided to come back after dinner.
Draco was grinning mischievously from ear to ear when she arrived at the Great Hall and
even though Theo had been right, Draco and Pansy’s kiss had been a one-time thing, she still
felt weird when she looked at him and remembered he had his lips on Pansy’s four nights
ago.
Pansy had plenty to say about it, not that Hermione had heard it, because she had managed to
escape that conversation every time so far. And Draco, well, neither of them had really talked
to one another since Halloween.
“What did you do?” She asked and he feigned innocence.
“Can’t I just be happy?” He retorted.
“Well, your happiness is usually at someone else’s expense, so again, what did you do?”
Draco scoffed and before he could come up with another excuse, the Gryffindor quidditch
team arrived and they were all angry and throwing glares in their direction. “No, really
Draco,” Blaise asked, “what did you do?”
“I can’t play tomorrow, since my arm is still injured—” a collective groan around them, “and
they are playing Hufflepuff tomorrow.”
“And they just found out?” Theo asked, containing a snigger.
“It might have slipped my mind,” Flinch said from where he was sitting, “I should have told
them sooner.” He shrugged and the Slytherins all laughed.
Merlin, what a bunch of kids.
Draco was still grinning and honestly, a bit jumpy next to her, he seemed excited. It couldn’t
only be about Quidditch. “Really Draco,” she asked again, this time lower, so just he could
hear her. “What’s gotten into you?”
“Mother sent me a letter earlier, father won’t be making any betrothal agreements any time
soon.” He told her and she could have said that the relief that washed over her was because of
his own, but that would be a lie.
But her relief was easily gone, because throughout dinner there was a recurring conversation
about crushes and kisses, much to Hermione’s chagrin. Hermione didn’t know what exactly
had happened at the party after she left, but suddenly everyone was talking about kissing and
Hermione was trying very hard to not think about it too because she wasn’t stupid and there
was a person she had been looking at for longer and longer periods of time. Or maybe she
was stupid because the person she had been looking at was the one Milli, Tracey and Pansy
were all swooning and sighing about. Even more stupid because it had taken Pansy, the
overachiever that she was, to kiss Draco for Hermione realise that maybe, she liked him a bit
too much, liked him enough to think about kissing him and resent every word Pansy had to
say about it.
Hermione looked over to where Theo was sitting and wondered if he would do something
about it, or if he’d be like her and end up watching from the sides as Blaise kissed someone
and he had to hear all about it.
She pushed her food around on her plate because one look at him and Hermione knew Blaise
wouldn’t be kissing anyone. Tracey, realising she had no chance with Draco, had moved on
to Blaise as her next conquest, and honestly, Hermione pitied her a little, because Blaise was
even more oblivious than Draco.
Maybe it wasn’t that he was oblivious, maybe it had more to do with the fact that Blaise, as
popular and liked as he was, didn’t care much about anyone around him that wasn’t his
immediate friends. Anyone besides Theo, her, Draco, Pansy and Daphne seemed invisible to
him. But even among them, Pansy and Daphne had experienced the unintentional cold
shoulder that he could give when Theo, her or Draco were talking.
“Blaise,” she called, trying something. He didn’t hear and kept talking with Theo, “Blaise,”
she called again, and this time Theo heard her and pointed with his head towards her.
“Yeah?” He said and she tried to hide her smile. As easily as that, she confirmed who was in
the first place in Blaise’s list of attentions.
“Do you want to go with me after dinner to see if Professor Lupin has returned? I want to ask
him something.”
He nodded. “All right. Are you going to ask if you can publish your first work?” He asked
with a grin, “there’s no way that is an assignment.” He pointed to the parchments almost
falling off her bag.
“No,” she replied with a scoff. “I just want to write two more pages.”
Blaise laughed and shook his head. “Unbelievable. Give me a page Granger, if you have that
much to write.”
Almost by the end of dinner, Draco took Greg and Vince with him to taunt Harry at the
Gryffindor table and Pansy took the opportunity to talk about the kiss and all the many
reasons why they hadn’t kissed again. They went from lack of alone time to not wanting to
ruin their friendship. Hermione decided it was time to visit Professor Lupin when the details
of Draco’s tongue had gotten to be too much.
“Blaise, let’s go now, shall we?” She asked and got up, and not waiting for his reply, grabbed
him by the cloak and pulled him with her.
They had barely taken the first steps on the Main Staircase when Blaise touched the topic she
had just tried to avoid moments ago.
“I talked to him.” He said, “Draco. About him and Pansy.”
“Hm.”
“He wasn’t planning on kissing her that night,” Blaise said and Hermione wasn’t a
Gryffindor, she didn’t have any of their bravery, so instead of asking if Draco was planning to
kiss someone that night, she said:
“Quick thinking then.” Blaise snorted.
“I meant that she grabbed and kissed him.” He said and Hermione’s eyes widened. “He just
kissed her back because he didn’t want to waste the opportunity of having his first kiss.”
“That’s ridiculous. He should have his first kiss with someone that he actually likes—he told
me over summer, we talked about Pansy and—”
“Ask me if I like someone.”
“What?” She blurted, not having expected that to come from him.
“Ask me if I like someone.”
“Why?” she asked, confused and slightly lost.
“Merlin Granger, any other girl would be dying to know.”
“I’m not like them.” She replied, there was a slight annoyance in her tone.
“Thank Merlin.” He said. “Ask me.”
“Do you like someone?”
“Yes.” He replied and raised an eyebrow at her.
She rolled her eyes, knowing what he wanted. “Who?”
“Theo.” He replied, and Hermione saw that the smirking and the mirth were all gone, giving
space to a rare display of insecurity.
Differently from Theo, whose relationship with her was based in half words and heavy
meanings; hers and Blaise’s was long conversations and feelings spread open between them.
To have him lose that easiness and absolute trust between them, Hermione saw how
important that moment was for him, how much it meant. She knew she couldn’t treat it like
she did Theo’s confession: with smirks and retorts.
“Since when?” She asked.
“Since our first year.” He said and amazingly, she saw a faint flush on his cheeks.
Hermione thought back to their first year, their interactions. The first thing that came to her
mind was Yule ball, Theo playing the harp. Hermione grinned. “Beautiful, you said, when
Theo finished playing. You were talking about him.”
Blaise looked away. “I was.”
“What are we going to do?” She asked, knowing that her eyes were probably shining in
excitement. “Are we telling him?”
“We?” He asked with an eyebrow raised, his smirk back in place.
“Well, of course. You came out to me— wait, this is a coming out, isn’t it?”
He laughed, “yes, Hermione. I’m gay.”
“Good.” She nodded and entwined their fingers together. “So, of course. We. I’m your best
friend. We do this together.”
“I don’t need you to hold my hand while I tell him.” He said and motioned to their hands.
“Are you telling him, then?”
“I don’t know.” He said and his shoulders dropped a little. “Sometimes I think he might like
me too, but then I remember his father and I don’t know if Theo’s brave enough to rebel like
that. He’s the last member of the Great Nott Family.”
“Theo couldn’t care less about that.” She said because she couldn’t go and say that Theo
indeed felt the same.
“I don’t know. He’s better than Draco regarding family stuff, but he has his not so glorious
moments sometimes.”
“He’s so much better now.” She said, grinning a little and thinking about how much their
friendship had improved since the beginning of the year. “I can investigate if you want.” She
added with a smile and Blaise snorted.
“You are terrible at being sneaky Hermione.”
“I’m getting better!” She retorted, slightly offended.
“You are not!”
They were laughing by the time they reached Lupin’s office and again, their professor wasn’t
present.
“Weird.” She said. “It feels like I haven’t seen him all week.”
“He looks quite ill, doesn’t he? I noticed he’s a bit pale since Halloween.”
“Yeah, I noticed it too.” She mumbled and shrugged, “Let’s head back then, lover boy.”
“Merlin, shut up.” Blaise laughed.
They found Theo and Draco on the staircase that led to the dungeons and Draco arched an
eyebrow at hers and Blaise’s joined hands. “Why are you two holding hands?” He asked
suspiciously.
“We are best friends,” Blaise replied. Draco looked at Blaise like he didn’t make any sense.
Hermione agreed.
“You two look suspicious.” Theo pointed out and his eyes lingered on Blaise. Hermione
grinned widely and Blaise swatted at her.
She removed her hand from Blaise’s and hugged Theo’s arm, the boy looked even more
suspicious now. “Do you think I’m sneaky Theo?” Hermione asked.
“No offence, Hermione. You are the worst at being sneaky.”
“Hah!” Blaise said with a grin.
“What is this about?” Draco asked confused, “where were the two of you?”
“She went to see Lupin, he wasn’t there.” Blaise explained, “Hermione shrieked when I told
her she was terrible at sneakiness and now she’s offended that there’s something in the world
she isn’t good at.”
Theo smirked and Hermione narrowed her eyes, “She’s not good at Divination as well.”
Hermione gasped and pushed him on the chest, he didn’t budge, and it only made her angrier.
Theo held her wrists and she trashed a little. Blaise laughed and pulled the band holding her
hair, she shrieked, and this time trashed for real, wanting to get at him.
Blaise ran and his laughter could be heard all the way to the Slytherin dungeons.
“Are you two finished?” Draco asked and Hermione saw that his expression was stormy.
“Yeah,” she said and tugged her wrists from Theo’s hold, he let her go.
“Come on Hermione,” Draco said, and the boy shot a warning look in Theo’s direction that
only made the other boy snort and shake his head. Hermione didn’t understand. Boys.
Having not found Lupin the next day as well, Hermione went to Defence Against the Dark
Arts with an assignment that was a bit too long. She could only hope that Professor Lupin
wouldn’t mind it much.
But when they arrived at the classroom, they were surprised to find Professor Snape there,
instead of their Defence Professor. They all skidded to a halt, not expecting that.
“Where’s Professor Lupin?” Theo asked. Hermione noticed that Theo didn’t stop on his usual
seat for this class – right in front beside Hermione – choosing to seat a couple of desks back.
“He says he is feeling too ill to teach today,” said Snape with a twisted smile. Hermione
frowned.
“Still?” She asked Blaise, under her breath. She had noticed he had looked ill for a few days
now, thinking back, Hermione thought that he had begun feeling poorly on Halloween after
Sirius Black tried to enter the castle.
"What's wrong with him?" Pansy asked with a raised eyebrow.
Professor Snape's eyes glittered. "Nothing life-threatening," he said and again Hermione
thought that maybe those two had studied together, his displeasure with Lupin was bigger
than with any other professor.
Hermione went to her usual seat and Draco plopped down next to her. They all watched in
silence as Professor Snape looked through the pages of their book, searching for where they
had stopped. "Well, Professor Lupin has not left any record of the topics you have covered so
far—”
"Please, sir, we've done Boggarts, Red Caps, Kappas, and Grindylows," she said. "We're just
about to start—"
"Be quiet,” he said coldly, and Hermione felt her cheeks heating up. It was one of his nasty
days, then. He glared at her and again Hermione had the fleeting thought that he could hear
her thoughts. "I was merely commenting on Professor Lupin's lack of organization." No one
dared to say a thing about that, or how Defence had become their favourite class. But maybe
they didn’t have to, maybe Professor Snape’s mood had to do with the fact that he knew his
own students liked another class better. “Today we shall discuss—” He went almost to the
back of the book, where clearly, they hadn’t covered. "Werewolves," he decided.
"But, sir," she said, unable to restrain herself. Werewolves were so far back on the book that
she had not prepared her reading yet. “We're not supposed to do werewolves yet, we're due to
start hinkypunks—”
"Miss Granger," said Snape in a voice of deadly calm, "I was under the impression that I am
teaching this lesson, not you. And I am telling you all to turn to page 394." He glanced
around again. “Now!"
She turned to page 394. There was a big, yellow full moon depicted on it. Hermione
narrowed her eyes at it. Looking up to the calendar in the corner of the classroom, she
confirmed that the full moon had been yesterday. She had just done an essay on it for
Divination.
"Which of you can tell me how we distinguish between the werewolf and the true wolf?"
Snape asked.
No one moved. She hesitated for a second before raising her hand. She glared at him hard
enough when he pretended to not see her. Used to it by now, she spoke anyways. "The
werewolf differs from the true wolf in several small ways. The snout of the werewolf—” he
glared, Hermione was unbothered, she knew she was the one less likely to get into trouble
with him. “—is shorter compared to one of a wolf, their eyes are more human-like and their
tail is tufted.”
“Anything else you’d like to add?” He drawled and Hermione decided to push her luck.
“Yes.” Someone snorted behind her, probably Blaise. “Another difference is how werewolves
mindlessly attack humans while ignoring other creatures. Wolves don’t attack humans unless
they’ve been bothered.”
"That is the second time you have spoken out of turn, Miss Granger." Professor Snape
pointed out. The only reason why she didn’t shrug was that her mother had raised her very
well.
Snape went on explaining about werewolves and when he repeated for the third time what
signs one could look for in case of suspicion, Hermione knew there was something wrong.
First, Snape was never that throughout, in fact, he never repeated an instruction, much less
three times. Secondly, it couldn’t be a coincidence, that of all creatures in the book, he had
decided to teach werewolves one day after the full moon. It was like he wanted to exploit
Lupin’s absence.
Dread filled her stomach and Hermione’s eyes widened. She took the opportunity that no one
was speaking, just taking notes on werewolves from the textbook, to make a comparative
chart. She hid it among her notes when Snape passed through her seat in his prowling up and
down the rows of desks, examining the work they had been doing with Professor Lupin.
"Very poorly explained... That is incorrect, the Kappa is more commonly found in
Mongolia.” He tsked. “Professor Lupin gave this eight out of ten? I wouldn't have given it
three..."
When the bell rang, Snape announced: "You will each write an essay, to be handed in to me,
on the ways you recognise and kill werewolves. I want two rolls of parchment on the subject,
and I want them by Monday morning. It is time somebody took this class in hand.”
They left and muffled complaints could be heard all the way to the next class. Her heart was
pounding, she was certain that she was right. With almost no reading beforehand, Hermione
wrote down six similarities! Blaise had also noticed how ill Lupin had looked in these past
few days, and he wasn’t stupid, there were great chances that he might come to the same
conclusion. Theo too, if he really put himself into the assignment. Merlin, Draco! What a
disaster it would be if Draco found out.
That evening, instead of going to dinner, she went straight to the library and checked out
every book on lycanthropy that she could find. When curfew rolled, her stomach was
growling, and she had piles of books next to her. Using the spell Narcissa had taught her, she
expanded the insides of her school bag and put all the books inside, making sure to leave only
the lesser incriminating ones.
When Saturday came, it brought the worst weather and Hermione tried to escape attending
the match in the pouring rain, to no avail. The entire school trudged to the pitch under heavy
cloaks and big umbrellas, but the wind was merciless, and she was soaked by the time they
found a place for them in the stands.
The weather wasn’t enough to remove the good mood Draco had going and every time they
passed through a group of Gryffindors, he made a show of feeling sudden pain on his arm. It
annoyed her so much that she slapped it on his sixth performance. “Stop that.” She snapped,
“It’s getting ridiculous. Everyone knows you are faking it.”
Draco made a face at her and despite knowing better, her lips curled up in a traitorous smile.
He laughed too and when he offered his umbrella to her, she left Daphne on her own to join
him.
Hermione watched the Quidditch teams entering the field and they staggered sideways with
the strength of the wind. She knew people were cheering and yelling, but she could barely
hear her own thoughts over the thunders. Her thinking voice was screaming.
The match began and Hermione couldn’t look up without being blinded by the heavy rain,
not even leaning heavily on Draco’s side could be seen as a good thing, since his body was so
cold that she got goosebumps from him. She had no idea who was winning or how many
points the teams had scored because the commentary was muffled by the rain. Milli on her
side had forgone her glasses because she spent more time trying to dry them, than seeing
anything. Hermione could only imagine how much harder it must be for Harry.
There was a flash of lightning and the teams moved to the floor, the Gryffindor team hid from
the rain right next to where she was. Under normal conditions, she’d be able to hear them, but
Hermione could only guess what they were talking about. Harry waved his glasses, and she
had an idea. “I will be right back.” She told Draco and left him under the umbrella and ran to
where Harry was, she beamed at him and held out her arm to him. “I've had an idea, Harry!
Give me your glasses, quick!" She said and after he handed it to her, she tapped her wand to
the glass and cast "Impervius!" She grinned widely and handed them back, “there, now they
will repel water.”
She took a few steps back at the expression on Wood’s face and quickly ran back to the
stands.
“Do that with mine, please?” Milli asked when she returned, and Hermione nodded.
Draco’s expression was sour when she returned to his umbrella, but she ignored it, deciding
to just snuggle back on his side. Momentarily appeased, he even pulled his cloak back, so it
warmed them both.
The match resumed and Hermione found that she didn’t care enough to watch. It was too
cold, too wet and the visibility was terrible. She spaced out and for a moment Hermione
thought she had gone too far on her own head because an eerie silence fell across the
stadium. She still felt cold to her bones and could feel the wind on her cheeks, but it was
almost like she had gone deaf.
She heard gasping around her and the cold changed. It wasn’t the natural cold of the rain, no,
it was that cold she felt on the train and then she saw them, hundreds of them, soaring around
the stadium, people began screaming and a few tried to run. Hermione felt her body locking
up, just like back at the train. Everything froze inside of her. Draco was shaking her,
somewhere on her right she could hear Blaise calling out to Theo. Pansy said she was going
to fetch Snape. And the woman:
Hermione felt herself nodding, incapable to stop, fear gripped inside of her. It was different
this time, maybe it was because there were more Dementors, or because of the crippling cold,
she didn’t know, but she heard a blast and her entire body flinched. She could feel Draco’s
hands on her arms, but she couldn’t see him, instead, it was someone else, a blurred face, but
Hermione knew, without a doubt, that it was the woman from before.
“Step aside, silly girl.” She gasped and the fear inside of her doubled. The woman turned and
clouds of smoke filled her vision, making it impossible for her to see anything.
Draco’s voice got clearer as the woman’s begging faded away. Hermione could blink now,
she noticed she wasn’t on her feet anymore, someone was carrying her. Hermione blinked
again and her vision cleared. They were almost out of the field now, Professor Snape was
carrying her and behind him, Draco and Blaise were pulling Theo along, the boy leaning
heavily on both boys, she saw his feet dragging in his effort to walk.
She looked back to her Professor and saw that he looked murderous, his expression was
twisted, and he was working his jaw so hard that Hermione was afraid he’d pull something.
He must have noticed her looking because he looked down at her. His expression softened
and there was a lot of emotion in his black eyes. She thought he held her a little closer before
taking his eyes away from her.
They arrived at the hospital wing and Hermione saw that Harry was already there with
Dumbledore. Snape put her down on a stretcher and the boys put Theo on the stretcher beside
her. Once Snape saw that she was indeed all right, he turned and went straight to
Dumbledore. Hermione suddenly felt very glad she wasn’t the Headmaster.
Madam Pomfrey came to check on her and Theo, the Matron too seemed eager to leave
Dumbledore’s side now that Snape was glaring at the man.
“Always the three of you.” She mumbled as she inspected them. Hermione looked between
her and Theo, just now noticing that indeed, it had been the three of them again. Why? Why
the Dementors’ effect was much stronger on them? Draco and Blaise seemed a bit shaken,
but nothing different than what Ron, Neville and Ginny had been on the train.
And who was the woman she kept hearing?
Dumbledore and Snape left and there was a collective sigh when the tension left with them.
Draco perched on her bed and seconds later the door burst open, and the Gryffindor
Quidditch team filled in.
They all started talking at once and Hermione couldn’t see Harry’s sleeping form anymore.
Blaise pulled the curtain around Theo’s bed and Draco did the same with hers.
“Dumbledore was really angry,” Blaise commented, Hermione noticed that he had a hand on
Theo’s knee. “I didn’t think he could get that angry. Merlin, I didn’t think he could run.”
Theo snorted and even Hermione let out a chuckle. “But he did something that slowed
Potter’s fall.” At Hermione’s shocked expression, he explained. “He fell from the broom. I
guess it happens to him the same thing that happens to the two of you. But you were on the
stands and we caught you, Potter was several feet off the ground.”
“He cast a spell too,” Draco added. “Something silver and it sent them away. All the teachers
did. It was crazy, from Snape’s wand came out a silvery doe and it galloped around us,
sending the dementors away.”
Hermione was upset for missing out on such an amazing spell. Blaise chuckled, probably
understanding what her expression meant. “He was also very angry,” Blaise said. “Snape, I
mean.” He stopped and pondered a bit before adding, “I think he was scared.”
Draco and Blaise had to leave when Madam Pomfrey came shooing the Gryffindor team,
leaving only the bed-ridden students. They were forced to remain on the Hospital Wing for
the entire weekend and Hermione groaned because she had had enough of homework in that
bed to last a lifetime.
Harry seemed more upset with his broken broom than anything else, even Theo expressed
some sort of sentiment at the mess of twigs his Nimbus 2000 had become.
Night came and they had just finished eating dinner in their beds, Madam Pomfrey had sent
their last visitors away and retired to her quarters. Hermione found that she had plenty to say
but didn’t know how to begin a conversation with the two people there.
After minutes of pondering, Theo snorted and came to sit on her bed. “Spill.” He nudged and
made himself comfortable on her side, the bed stretched to fit them.
Harry, with nothing else to do, turned to look at them.
“What do you see?” She asked. “When they come, I mean. The first time, I only heard a
woman’s voice, this time, maybe it was because they were in bigger number, I think I saw
something.”
Theo stayed quiet for a long time, so long that Hermione thought he wasn’t going to reply.
But at last, he sighed. “I see my mum.” He told her. “I hear her, in her last moments. I keep
thinking about it and you know what everyone said after an encounter with the dementors in
the train?”
“About not being able to feel happy again?” she asked.
“Yes. That’s what they do. They suck the happiness out of us by feeding on our worst
memories.” He said. “I think they make us relive our worst memory.”
She wasn’t expecting, so she jumped when Harry spoke. “I think I hear my mum as well.” He
said. “When Voldemort came to kill me. I heard her begging him.”
“Well, look at that Granger,” Theo said and there was humour in his voice. “Potter and I
indeed have something in common, we’ve both got Mommy Issues.” He concluded. Harry
snorted.
“Don’t be callous.” She said and they both chuckled.
Hermione sighed. Harry’s worst memory made sense, as did Theo’s. But hers only left her
confused. She had no idea who that woman was. “I don’t know what mine is supposed to be.”
She confessed. Theo found her fingers and entwined their hands. “I hear a woman too, but I
don’t know her. She’s scared and she’s asking me to do something, to hold him, but I don’t
know who he is.”
Theo squeezed her hand and she looked at him. There was something in his eyes, was it pity?
Or worry? She didn’t know and Hermione wasn’t sure she wanted to.
“Maybe you forgot,” Theo spoke in such a soft voice that for some reason it made her want to
cry. Almost as if his words had struck some part of her that indeed, had been forgotten.
Severus marched behind Dumbledore to the Headmaster’s office. No amount of Occlumency

could make him forget the glassed look Hermione had on her face and the things she
murmured while he carried her. He didn’t need to go inside her head to see. In fact, he didn’t
dare look. He and Narcissa had tampered quite a lot with her memories when he got her from
that night and he feared that if he did, it would trigger her memories. Ever since Hermione
began Hogwarts, he had used his Legilimency only on the thoughts at the front of her mind,
the ones he didn’t need to push to see.
Back when Hermione was two years old, they had decided against erasing her memory,
because it would leave a trace and she’d grow up and recognise the gaps where the memory
was supposed to be. She’d know something was missing but would be unable to reach. They
couldn’t afford the risk. So, they hid them instead by putting them apart and masking them
with other memories.
“I know what you are going to say, Severus,” Dumbledore spoke the moment Severus closed
the door behind him. Oh, no you don’t.
“Why haven’t you told her?” He asked, his voice coming out as a hiss.
Dumbledore sighed and ran a hand through his beard. “She’s safer not knowing.” Bullshit.
“She’s blacking out because of the Dementors. She’s relieving Lily’s death.” Severus snarled.
“The same thing is happening to the boy. They are bound to find out.”
“Hermione has no reason to believe she’s the missing sister.” Albus pointed out. “They did
quite a job on her.”
He’d pass the praise to Narcissa, she’d be glad to know, he thought sardonically. “Black’s
out. Black has gotten inside the castle once. He—”
“Sirius has no way of knowing it’s her. Well, I don’t even think he knows Hermione had been
missing this whole time.”
“I’m certain he has heard it by now,” Severus said. Another sigh. Dumbledore had an
expression that Severus rarely saw on him: regret. Of what, Severus had no idea.
“Something must be done about the Dementors. I can’t have my students fainting and
reliving their worst memories.” He spoke. Severus trusted his and Narcissa’s abilities enough
to know that Hermione wouldn’t be able to place the memory easily, but the same couldn’t be
said about the Nott boy. It didn’t take a genius to guess that he was experiencing his mother’s
murder again.
“They got attracted by the low spirits of the match,” Dumbledore explained. “Most of us
were feeling miserable to be out in the rain.”
“We need to check the weather before the next match, then.” He said, sarcasm dripping.
Dumbledore smiled.
Severus turned around to leave, he had cast a drying charm on his robes, but he still felt cold
from the rain and he had reached his weekly quota with Dumbledore.
After dinner, he stopped by at the hospital wing to check on her and saw that they were
already sleeping. Theo had gotten on her bed and with a long-suffering sigh, he levitated the
sleeping boy and put him back on his own bed.
Everyone was still talking about the incident on Sunday morning. Severus saw that the
students could do simple math when it came to Quidditch because they all were counting
how many points each team had to score to win the Cup.
Sometime before dinner, Remus paid him a visit. He still looked worse for wear, but then
again, that was his usual. “You better sit down for this,” Remus announced.
“What now?” Severus asked and didn’t comment when the other man sat down on his
armchair and summoned a bottle of fire whiskey. Unfortunately, that had become routine.
Severus shuddered with the thought.
“I went to the hospital wing to get a few invigorating potions and some tonics. As well as to
check up on them. I overheard them talking.” Remus said and downed a glass of fire whiskey.
Severus had the afterthought to comment that it wasn’t a good mix.
“And?” Severus prompted.
“They’ve seen him.” He spoke. Severus tensed. It shouldn’t be that easy to guess, but only
one person had Remus using that tone. He sat down and stared. Remus continued. “The dog.”
Severus cursed under his breath. How could he have forgotten? “Hermione and Theo saw
him in Hogsmeade on Halloween. Her cat apparently befriended him. He followed them all
the way to the fence around the Shrieking Shack. They played fetch with him.” Remus said
exasperated. In Severus’ opinion, the man looked ready to be sick.
“Do you think he knows it’s her?” He asked.
Now, Remus definitively looked like he was going to puke. He let out a burst of crazed
laughter. “Do you know what she told me? What did she tell him? That seeing that black dog
made her think of riding in the back of a dog just like that. When she was a kid.”
“Fuck.” Severus muttered and he had to put his own glass down, lest he broke it with his
grip.
“He knows,” Remus said. “Sirius is far from stupid, he escaped from Azkaban for fucks sake!
And she said that after Harry mentioned that he has been seeing a black dog since the
summer! He saw one in his backyard and he’s been thinking it’s the fucking Grim because of
Divinancy!” Remus downed another glass. “He saw it again on Saturday, on the stands. He
told us that every time he sees it, he feels a jolt of panic and Hermione, because she doesn’t
believe in Divinancy, made that comment offhandedly, saying that he was being paranoid
because when she saw a black dog, it reminded her of something happy.”
“She wasn’t supposed to remember that at all,” Severus muttered. So much for trusting his
and Narcissa’s skills.
“I told you what she said after meeting me,” Remus commented. “We knew it would happen.
She gets her memories in deja-vus.”
“If Black knows who they are and where they are, why hasn’t he tried anything? I mean,
trying to get inside the Common Hall just after seeing Hermione in Hogsmeade? It doesn’t
make any sense!”
Something passed through Remus’ eyes. It was emotion so raw that Severus had to look
away. “Betraying James is what doesn’t make any sense,” Remus muttered. Thirteen years,
Severus thought. Thirteen years with that question eating him.
Severus hated Sirius Black with a passion. He was the one who led Lily to her death and all
of them to this mess. Even before the war, his hatred was big enough to match the one he felt
for James Potter. But Severus hated Remus less now and he had seen the way Remus looked
at Hermione with reverence, so he knew that there had to be a Sirius Black that Severus
didn’t know. That was why he decided to ask: “Do you think he’s going to hurt them? That’s
he really out to kill Harry?”
Remus blinked. And blinked again. “Are you genuinely asking?” Severus nodded. “Sirius
loved them. He was obsessed with Harry. He built the sidecar of the motorbike for him. He’d
take naps in dog form with Hermione, he—” Remus's voice got choked up and he snarled,
mad at himself. “The Sirius I knew would never. But again, maybe I didn’t know him at all.”
He said and got up from his seat, putting the glass on the table with a thud. “I’m thinking—I
want to teach them the Patronus, so they could a least defend themselves.”
Severus nodded. “That’d be great.” Dumbledore should have suggested this when he decided
to agree with having these creatures lurking around the castle.
Talking about lurking around the castle…

Did Dumbledore know about the Marauders being Animagi? About the possibility of Black
entering the castle in dog form. “Remus,” he called when the man was almost outside. “Does
Dumbledore know? About the animagi.”
Remus’ eyes widened. He turned around and rested his body against the door. “He doesn’t.”
He said. “No one does.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah—I mean, he never said anything or gave the hint that he knew. After the first dinner, I
went to his office. Before you and McGonagall arrived, we talked about Sirius. I told him
about the passages that we knew, Filch had already closed down a few of them. He didn’t
mention anything. If he knew, he would’ve, wouldn’t he?”
Severus wasn’t so sure. “Dumbledore isn’t a sharing type.”
“Should we tell him?”
“Let’s wait.”
Chapter End Notes
Again, thank you so much for everything! I hope you enjoy this chapter and see you
guys in 2022! Let's hope for a better year
Title and quote at the beginning belong to Five by Sleeping at Last

it is steep, it is stone, such a cavalry
Chapter Notes
Hello! today it's the last Friday of the year and given all the wonderful feedback I've
been receiving with this fic, I thought fitting to finish the year with an update!
I hope you enjoy it and one more time, thank you all for reading, commenting and
leaving kudos on this work.
possible TW: violence attempt. Nothing happens, but still. It's the very end of the
chapter, after Severus POV and when Hermione stumbles on McNair. Read at your
discretion
such a cavalry, from the daily press

the deepest nest
in keepers' keep
all the news at the door
Chapter Nineteen
Finally, when Monday came, they were allowed to leave the Hospital Wing and Hermione
and Theo enjoyed their breakfast with their friends on the Slytherin table. On both nights,
Hermione had dreamed of the visions she got from the Dementor and still struggled to find
meaning behind them. Harry’s was obvious, as well as Theo’s, but who was the woman in
Hermione’s vision? Was that her mum? And who was Hermione supposed to protect? And
the man that blasted the door open? She had no idea. Her mother and father had never
mentioned anything about break-ins in their house. Of course, the first thing she did after
leaving the hospital wing after having breakfast, was to go to the library to read on
Dementors.
Draco was unbearable and had taken to make spirited imitations of Harry’s fall whenever the
boy was around. In their shared Potions lesson with the Gryffindors, Draco decided to sit at
the same table as Harry and Ron; groaning, Hermione followed.
Every time Professor Snape wasn’t looking, Draco would make a comment and Hermione
saw that both Gryffindors were slowly losing their patience. When he made a particularly
nasty comment, Hermione slapped him in the back of the head at the same time Ron threw a
slippery crocodile heart at him, which hit Draco on his face. He gasped and before Draco
could express his anger, they saw that Snape had been looking. She had to thank Snape’s bias
because he took 50 points from Gryffindor and pretended that he hadn’t caught her with her
hand still in the air.
Professor Lupin returned that week as well and Theo returned to his seat at the front by her
side. She watched his reaction to the news that Snape had decided to skip a few chapters and
teach them about Werewolves. His lip thinned in a hard line and she saw him working his jaw
in contained anger. He still looked quite sick, his ratty clothes were hanging loose and there
were dark shadows beneath his eyes. Pansy was the first to complain about Snape,
announcing that Snape had no place to give them homework and that’s why they collectively
decided not to do it. Blaise was indignant that Snape had followed the book with the
Gryffindors and the Hufflepuffs, only skipping to werewolves with them and the Ravenclaws.
Hermione felt a wave of growing anger inside of her. She was certain now that the Potions
professor had done it on purpose. Her friends and the Ravenclaws were the smartest in their
year, so the odds of having a student connecting the dots were higher. Hermione was
suddenly glad to have spent her weekend on the hospital wing because she still had the books
in her bag.
He laughed at their outrage and told them that it was okay that they didn’t do the homework.
Hermione thought he seemed particularly relieved with that. Back to where they had stopped,
Lupin showed them the Hinkypunk, a little one-legged creature who looked as though he
were made of wisps of smoke, rather frail and harmless looking.
She wasn’t surprised when Professor Lupin asked her and Theo to stay behind once the class
ended. “I talked to Harry yesterday about the Dementors. He had a few questions and I think
it’s only fair that I explain it to you two as well.” He said and Hermione felt Theo growing
taller next to her. “Besides the obvious, do you know what a Dementor does?” he asked, and
Hermione nodded.
“They are foul creatures,” she began, “they glory in decay and despair, draining peace, hope
and happiness out of the air around them.”
Lupin smiled. “Exactly. I wish I had you in my year back in the day.” He told her and
Hermione smiled importantly. “Five points to Slytherin.”
Theo chuckled. “It makes life a lot easier.” He agreed and nudged her with his elbow. She
grinned at him because she knew for a fact that she didn’t make it any easier for him, his
bruises were etched in her memory and despite what he said on the train, she knew she was
partially to blame.
“The thing with the dementor is, if you get too near one and every good feeling, every happy
memory will be sucked out of you,” Lupin explained. “And if it gets the chance, it will feed
on you long enough to reduce you to something soul-less and evil.”
“The kiss,” Theo said and Lupin nodded. Hermione cocked her head in question. “It’s the
worst punishment one can get in Azkaban. It’s not death, but it’s not life either. It’s just
nothing.”
“It’s worse than nothing,” Lupin added, “They leave you only with your worst experiences in
life.” He sighed, “That’s why it affects you the most because there are horrors in your past
that the others don’t have.”
“Harry hears Voldemort murdering his mother, Theo sees—”

“My father murdering my mom.” He interrupted and Hermione’s eyes widened. It wasn’t
what he had said in the hospital wing.
“Theo—”
“I didn’t feel like telling Potter that.” He explained.
Lupin was looking at her and Hermione felt like he knew exactly what she was thinking and
was just waiting. “I don’t know what I hear.” She confessed. “There’s a woman and she’s
telling me to protect someone, to not let go of him and then—” Lupin looked pained, and he
touched her shoulder in support. “A man blasts open a door and asks the woman to step
aside. And that’s it. But I keep thinking about it and I have no idea what that is or when it
happened.”
Theo looked at her and his eyes were clear blue, he tilted his head to the side and Hermione
wondered if maybe one day he would decide to share what is that he saw in her when he
looked at her like that. “I think it’s good that you forgot.” He said, “I’d give everything to
have forgotten that day.”
“I can’t help you with that,” Lupin said then, “but like I told Harry the other day, I can help
you protect yourselves from a dementor attack.”
“Like Professor Snape did on the Quidditch field.” She said and he nodded.
“If you two want, I can teach you the spell. But after Christmas, unfortunately, I’m still
feeling a little sick.”
Theo and Hermione nodded at once. She’d never skip an opportunity to learn something new.
That being decided, he sent them away and Hermione decided to risk her position as Snape’s
favourite and brave him. She went with Theo to their next class and spent the entire time
wondering how to approach him. By the time Binns was finishing his explanation, Hermione
was fuming. How could he? Didn’t he know how ostracised Werewolves were? If the
students found out, certainly a few parents would want him sacked. Unfortunately, Hermione
knew quite well one that would throw a fit. It didn’t matter that he wanted the position,
outing a werewolf just to get a chance at the job was low. And Professor Lupin that the best
teacher they had gotten so far!
Her friends had noticed her mood going south throughout the class and none of them dared to
ask what was wrong and simply allowed her to stomp away. Hermione marched to Snape’s
office and opened the door without knocking.
Professor Snape was sitting on his desk with a pile of homework in front of him. He raised a
single eyebrow at the sight of her. “What’s the meaning of this?” He asked when she stopped
right in front of his desk.
Hermione put her bag on top of his desk and began removing the books from inside of it. She
knew that if she upended it, it would have a bigger effect, but not even in anger she could do
such a thing to books.
“Miss Granger, what in Merlin’s name—”
“I know what you were trying to do.” She said accusingly. He picked one of the books and
studied the cover. She could swear he was smirking. “Skipping chapters and page 394.” She
said the number in a very good imitation of his tone. Pansy would be proud. “You chose that
chapter on purpose for us and the Ravenclaws, hoping one would notice it. Well, I did.” She
said proudly and threw her parchment on Werewolves on the desk as well. “I checked out all
the books that talked in depth about them. I’m sorry Professor, but I’m afraid all the students
failed on the topic of how to identify and kill a werewolf.”
He grabbed her parchment and studied it. “I see that you got it perfectly.” He drawled.
“I’m very disappointed in you Sir,” she said and was proud to see that her voice barely shook.
“You might not like him, but he’s an excellent teacher and he offered to teach me how to
defend myself from Dementors! You can’t get him fired!”
Hermione could swear she heard a snort, but she was glaring at Snape and he definitively
hadn’t made a sound.
“Maybe after your tutoring then?” Snape asked and there was a tinge of humour in his voice.
Hermione flushed. “I didn’t mean it like that!”
“Where did you learn this Extension Spell?” He asked, changing subjects. “It’s illegal.”
Hermione shrugged. She wasn’t going to rat Narcissa out. “It’s your fault that I learned.” She
said instead. “I had to find a way to store all these books.”
Snape raised an eyebrow at her, clearly unamused.
“And what am I supposed to do with these books?”
“I don’t know. Write a parchment yourself.” Her own eyes widened at such words and she
decided it was best that she left and hid for the next two weeks. She turned around and only
ran when she was out of his office.
...
When November came to an end, Ravenclaw had flattened Hufflepuff in a quidditch match
that Hermione had refused to watch. She had three subjects more than the average student
and had finally managed to work out a schedule that worked with the Time-Turner. December
brought an end to the chilly haze of rain that had persisted since the game and instead, they
woke up to a world of white and glittering frost. Two weeks before the end of the term, the
castle was all decorated for Christmas and the Malfoys had begun sending their invitations
for that year’s Yule.
The girls were all excited and talks of dresses joined the plans for the holidays. Hermione
didn’t worry much about what she’d wear, because she was certain Aunt Cissy would send
her something.
On Friday, the day before their last Hogsmeade weekend of the term, she and Harry found
some time to spend together. They walked around the wooden bridge, wrapped in coats,
scarves and hats to keep the cold away.
“Are you excited about Lupin’s classes?” She asked and he nodded. “I read that is an
advanced spell and the best wizards can have it turned into a shape of an animal.”
Harry nodded. “The dementors are the guards at Azkaban.” He said and they both spotted the
dark forms at a distance, near the gates of the school. “Lupin told me that it’s a fortress set on
a tiny island, way out in the sea, but they don’t need the walls or the water to keep the
prisoners in, because they are already trapped inside of their heads, incapable of a single
cheery thought.”
“Can you imagine?” She whispered, afraid that those creatures lurking their gates might hear
them. “Day after day like that?” Hermione shivered and it was partially because of the cold.
“It must be terrible.”
Harry nodded, “He told me that most of them go mad within weeks, but Sirius Black
managed to be sane enough to escape from there. He must be a very powerful wizard.”
Hermione didn’t have anything to say to that. She remembered Narcissa’s expression and the
way she once caught the woman trailing the burnt contours of where her cousin’s picture
once was. “Do you know what I can’t get out of my head these past few days?” Hermione
shook her head. “No one seems to care about her anymore,” Harry said. “I hate that
sometimes even I forget about her. I didn’t tell you before but, I asked my aunt about her this
summer, she told me my sister’s name.”
Hermione gasped. “Really?”
“It’s Renee,” Harry told her. “Aunt Petunia only met her once. She didn’t know anything else.
How come no one knows anything?” Harry sounded angry. Hermione knew it was within his
right to be.
“What if you—” Hermione bit her tongue. She had almost suggested Harry search for people
who knew his parents before their deaths, but then she remembered that Sirius Black was
their friend. Hermione had no idea how to tell him that. “Have you thought of asking
Dumbledore?” She asked instead.
“I did.” He told her. “After Quirrell. He told me he has been looking for her ever since, but he
didn’t get to meet her and that there was no one alive that knew her.” Hermione wondered if
Dumbledore had counted Sirius Black then or disregarded him because he was in Azkaban.
Hermione wondered if James and Lily’s best friend would have met their daughter before
betraying them.
They stayed on the bridge until it got dark, after deciding to get inside and not risk running
into a Dementor. They said their goodbyes by the Great Staircase and Hermione promised to
get Harry a few candies from Hogsmeade.
…
It was much colder in the village this time because of the snow and Hermione felt enamoured
with all the decorations and Christmas trees alongside the main road. She spent her day with
her friends, shopping for Christmas presents now that they would spend it together at the
Manor. Hermione even got a handful of cleaning bars that promised to clean every dish in the
sink just by throwing a bar inside, remembering how her mother had liked those self-cleaning
pans in the French wizarding neighbourhood.
She was about to head back to the castle when Ron came rushing and almost toppled her.
“Harry.” He gasped. Hermione was on alert at once. She felt a twinge in her heart at the
thought of something happening to him and dreaded filled her.
“What?” she demanded. Her friends around her were all listening and glaring at Ron. He
pulled her away from them and when Blaise made a move to follow, she stopped him with
her hand.
“We were at the Three Broomsticks—”
“What? He is here? He’s not supposed to—”
“Will you save your nagging for later?” he snapped and she shut her mouth, this time it was
her who glared at him. “We were there when McGonagall, the Minister and Hagrid entered.
We heard them talking about Black and Harry—” He stopped, but Hermione didn’t need to
hear anything else. She knew exactly what he had learned.
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know. After they left, he rushed out. I lost him. I don’t know if he followed them or
went somewhere else, I—” Hermione had heard enough, she turned and ignored him calling
for her, she also ignored her friends and ran. She had no idea how Harry had gotten to
Hogsmeade or where he might have run to, but she had the absolute need to find him.
Hermione couldn’t explain, but she was terrified for him and it wasn’t the same crippling fear
that the Dementors brought in her, was something deeper.
That woman wasn’t talking about Harry, but Hermione felt the same desperation that the
woman felt, and she could only think of getting to Harry. Her feet seemed to know where she
needed to go because she found him not much after. He was in the same place where she and
Theo had found the dog, his front pressed against the fence and his head between his hands.
“Harry,” she called and noticed his body tensing.
He turned to her and his expression was enough to bring her to tears. “He knew them,
Hermione.” He said and he sounded broken. There wasn’t the same anger from when
Hermione told him part of what she knew. It was worse. It was like Harry was feeling the
betrayal that his parents must have felt. “He knew them,” Harry repeated.
“Harry,” she said again and stepped closer to him. “I—” She stopped, his expression
changed, and his green eyes widened.
“You knew,” Harry said in an accusing tone. More tears spilt from her eyes. She nodded.
“You didn’t tell me.”
“I didn’t know how.” She said. “I was never supposed to know any of this. Harry, it wasn’t
my place to tell you any of that.”
“But you didn’t think that I might want to know?” He screamed. He was crying too.
“Yes! You had to know.” She agreed. “But Harry, they should have told you. If the Malfoys
knew, this meant that Dumbledore and probably everyone here knew as well. I didn’t know
any of them. I don’t know what kind of people they were. How could I tell you that and have
nothing else to offer you?”
“It was still better than being played.” He said. “I heard it as if it was just something to talk
over drinks in a bar!” He exploded. “I’m so bloody tired of everyone else knowing
everything about me and not telling me shit!”
“I’m sorry.” She said. “I really am.” Hermione tried one more step, Harry had removed his
glasses to dry his tears and didn’t see her movement. “I will tell you what I know. I promise
you. I will tell you everything.” Hermione promised and dried a tear herself. Harry blinked
and she knew he was having trouble seeing her without his glasses, so she took them from his
hands and placed them back on his face. “Black is Narcissa’s cousin.” She began. “His
mother was Narcissa’s father’s sister. But Aunt Cissy had no contact with him because he ran
away from home when he was sixteen and got removed from the family.” Hermione had
noticed that the dog had returned, but Harry, who was listening with his eyes closed had yet
to see. She continued. “And when he ran, he ran to your father’s house Harry, because they
were best friends, and your grandparents took him in. Aunt Cissy said she was glad that he
had a place to go because his mother was terrible.”
She climbed on the fence next to him and cast a warming charm in both of them. Harry
opened his eyes and she saw him shivering with the change of temperature. He also spotted
the dog.
“Of course, it’s here!” Harry exploded, “Every time something terrible happens, the bloody
dog is present!” He said and Hermione saw it cowering as if the animal knew he was talking
about him.
“It’s just a stray dog, Harry.” She said exasperated and picked a twig from the floor and threw
it behind her. The dog wagged its tail and went after it.
Harry sighed. “I think I’m going mad.” He said and watched the dog return the twig and drop
it on his feet. Harry didn’t seem to have the energy to throw it. The dog didn’t seem to mind
and curled by their dangling feet. “Keep talking.” He told her, “I’m still mad at you.”
Hermione nodded. “So, after Black ran at sixteen, Aunt Cissy never talked to him again.”
Hermione sighed. “It was weird. Lucius said the minister thinks he’s coming after you, to
finish what he started. Aunt Cissy explained that they caught him at the crime scene, where
he killed twelve muggles and another friend of his after Voldemort murdered your parents.”
“What’s weird about this?” Harry asked. “It’s exactly the same story I heard at the Three
Broomsticks so far.”
“Because Aunt Cissy didn’t seem to believe that. She said that there were a few things that
didn’t make sense from that night, especially the part where Black betrayed your father.”
Harry snorted. “You just told me she said she didn’t talk to him. Maybe she didn’t know him.
And the Malfoys are evil Hermione, and since he’s family, it makes him just as evil.” The
dog curled more in itself.
“They aren’t evil Harry.” Hermione snapped.
“They are brainwashing you.”
“And who’s telling you that?” She asked, getting angry as well. “Is it the Weasleys?” Harry
gave her a look and she knew she was right. She sighed. “Enough about them. What did you
hear?”
“There was a spell that hid where my parents were. It’s called Fidelius Charm. You need a
Secret Keeper, someone to keep the secret within their soul. Black was the Keeper and two
weeks after they did the spell, Voldemort came knocking.” He told her. “And to make matters
worse, he is my godfather.”
“It doesn’t make sense then.”
“What?”
“In the magical world, the relationship between a godparent and a godson or goddaughter is
like having a magical bond. A godparent can constantly feel the thrum of your magic and if
they focus enough on the bond, it can lead them to you, so if you are in danger, they can kind
of feel it and come to your aid.”
“You are saying that if he wanted, he could find me right now?”
“Probably, yes.”
“Good,” Harry said angrily. “I want to face him for what he did to my parents.”
“Harry—”
“No, Hermione. My dad trusted him. Do you know what else Hagrid said? That Black asked
to take me. I told you before that it was Hagrid who took me from my house. But when he
arrived, my sister was already gone. They think he took her first and when he came back for
me, he found Hagrid there.”
The dog had begun growling and Hermione saw that its body was tense. There was nothing
around them for the dog to be alert. “Should we head back?” She asked. “Maybe he’s sensing
something.”
“Maybe it’s Sirius Black, having finally found me.” He said and threw the twig to the open
air, as far as he could. The dog jumped and ran away, not in the direction of the twig, but into
the woods surrounding the village.
“Harry!”
“I don’t care Hermione. My parents are dead, and my sister is God knows where because he
took her and decided it wasn’t enough and had to open a crater in the middle of the street that
cracked the pipes. They said that there were bodies everywhere and Muggles screaming,
while he stood there, laughing in front of what was left of his friend. Probably having
forgotten that he had my sister stashed somewhere in midst of his drive for violence.”
“And you want to face a wizard who did that? The first person to ever escape Azkaban. A
crazy man?”
“Fudge said he wasn’t crazy. Maybe unhinged because Voldemort had been defeated, but not
crazy. He said it shocked him how normal he seemed and how little effect the dementors
seemed to have on him.”
“Please Harry,” she begged. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
He ignored her, instead, he showed her a map that in her eyes was the most dangerous thing
one could have at the moment. It showed exactly where everyone was in the castle. She could
see Professor Snape in his office, Professor Lupin and Professor Sprout in one of the
greenhouses. “If he comes, I will be watching.”
Severus watched her leave, and he couldn’t say anything. There weren’t many people who
could surprise him and yet, there she was, time and time again. He eyed the dozens of books
she had left on his desk, the piece of perfectly written parchment – not on the ways to
identify and kill a werewolf, but on the ways to identify and safely introduce them to the
wizarding society. A throughout research that made those fools at the Department for the
Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures look even worse.
“Well, I see that I wasted my time coming here,” Remus said. Hermione’s timing had been
perfect, for the other man had just entered the place where Severus kept his ingredients and
remained in silence – for the most part – while she ranted. Severus looked to his side, to glare
at Remus and the man snorted again. “I wondered why the Ravenclaw’s essays seemed to
lack references.” He said and came to stop where the pile of books was. “Because she hid the
references.”
“Read this.” Severus handed him the parchment. “This is no third-year essay.”
Remus’ lips grew into a grin as he read, Severus rolled his eyes. “She could send this straight
to Level Four and make a new regulation out of it.”
He waved his wand, and they all flew to the stack that belonged to the library, he watched
them disappear. Let Madam Pince re-shelve them.
“I’m going to teach them after Christmas. She’s getting anxious about her visions, and I’d
prefer she’d learn how to protect herself before she learns a name or two in those memories.”
Remus told him and he nodded.
The Defence teacher left after that, he had come to yell at Severus much as his daughter had.
But his methods of yelling included raiding his personal supplies while at it instead of
dumping dozens of books on his table.
...
The castle got colder as the weeks passed and he couldn’t quite ground his daughter for bad-
behaving so he punished her by not giving her points for all the brilliantly brewed potions.
But Hermione was quick to notice and began whispering answers to all of her friends, so they
brewed it just as well as her. He took to glaring and two weeks passed without a single point
being awarded to Slytherin from him.
November turned into December and Severus had to admit to himself that he had gotten so
caught up with the whole Sirius Black situation, patrolling the corridors and the grounds until
late at night, being suspicious of Remus’ every move and even trying to eavesdrop on
thirteen-year-olds' conversation to try to learn if Black’s Animagus form had appeared near
Hermione again, that he had failed to notice that his daughter had one too many classes on
her schedule. He once caught the tail-end of a conversation with Parkinson, where his
daughter told her friend that she was only three chapters ahead of most classes – to what
Parkinson replied that she hadn’t even finished the one from last week – and it was
unacceptable that she had been so lax with her studies. Unacceptable was the dark circles
under her eyes and the slight panicky look she had every time he saw her going from one
class to the other. Severus filed for a conversation about her schedule for after Christmas
because two weeks before the end of the term Narcissa’s invitation arrived by owl. The dress
code this time would be black and white.
For the first time ever, Severus was excited about the Yule Ball, not because he was a fan of
parties, Merlin no. But it meant that Hermione would be away from the castle for two weeks
and safe in a place where no Sirius Black, dog form or not, could find her.
On the last day of the term, he watched Hermione and her friends trudge through the snow in
the direction of the Thestrals to take the train back to London. He watched until the moment
her carriage couldn’t be seen anymore.
He didn’t have to find an excuse to refuse Narcissa’s invitation to spend the holiday at the
Manor this year, because one of his students had stayed behind and therefore, he was required
to stay. Not that it meant he wouldn’t attend the Ball, because he would, or he’d never hear
the end of it. All in all, it wouldn’t be so bad, most of the teachers had left as soon as the
students did, leaving behind only the ones that lived in the castle. That meant Albus,
Minerva, Filius, Pomona and Trewlaney. And Filch, of course. Potter stayed as well, the boy
might be a bit stupid, but even he was smart enough to avoid that horrid aunt of his. Weasley,
being an annoying good friend, stayed as well. Besides his fifth-year students and the two
Gryffindors, only two more students had stayed, a pair of first years.
Severus waited until the very last minute to leave the castle to go to the Manor. There was
Fashionably Late and there was Narcissa Might Kill You-Late. At least this year’s attire was
black and white. He didn’t even need to charm his robe a different colour.
The party was in full swing when he arrived; Narcissa of course was splendid in a white
gown and Lucius looked every bit as pointy as ever with his black robes. Most of the guests
were also wearing black and maybe that was her idea all along. To be the only one bold
enough to wear something as pearly white as that and be seen from wherever she chose to
stand. A quick scoop of the place informed that Hermione wasn’t anywhere to be seen, but
also none of her friends as well. Which for him was good enough. The idea of having her in a
room full of Death Eaters was maddening. He didn’t know which was worse: these people
thinking she was a muggle-born or knowing that she was Potter’s missing sister.
Narcissa came to greet him, her gown made her look like someone out of a regal painting.
“Thank you for coming,” she said with a smile. Severus nodded; he didn’t voice that he
didn’t have much of a choice. “You know where the beverages are. We’ve got a few
Hungarian elves in the kitchen making some marvellous drinks with Palinka, a famous fruit
spirit in Central Europe that the Bulgarian Ministry is rumoured to be particularly fond of.”
“And why are we interested in the drinking habits of the Bulgarian Ministry?” He asked,
taking note of the people present and of course found the Bulgarian Ministry talking with one
of Lucius’ financial advisors.
“Business, of course,” Narcissa replied pleasantly. “With the World Cup happening next year,
Bulgaria is one of the favourites to win and—”
“What on earth is Igor Karkaroff doing here?” He asked, cutting Narcissa off what
undoubtedly was a great story. It had been years since he had last seen Karkaroff, the man
had run off after his release from Azkaban and a few years previous had become Headmaster
at Durmstrang Institute.
Karkaroff strolled around the ballroom as if he hadn’t exchanged names of several Death
Eaters in exchange for leniency. Dolohov, Travers and Rockwood were still serving time.
Severus hadn’t forgotten that his name had also been on his mouth in that hearing. A few
people scowled and insulted – Avery and Selwyn among them – as he passed. Severus
watched the scene and saw the Bulgarian Ministry pat Karkaroff on the shoulder. “Business,
like I said,” Narcissa replied.
“Is Lucius going to buy the World Cup?” He asked and Narcissa laughed softly as if Severus
had told a funny joke. He knew it was all an act and part of her performance as a perfect host.
He didn’t need to look to know that a few wives were looking at them grudgingly. Narcissa
held court differently than Lucius; while she acted all of her facial expressions and emotions
that had people falling over themselves trying to get a smile out of the Ice Queen, at the same
time she gave them willingly when it conveyed her. Severus had no doubt that someone
important for Narcissa’s game was looking, wondering how the scowling Severus Snape had
made Narcissa Malfoy smile and laugh so?
“Haven’t you heard? Your daughter has been doing business with him as well.” Narcissa told
him, as one would make a comment about the weather.
“She has been doing what, now?” He asked, turning to face her properly, she had that
conniving Malfoy smile that he absolutely abhorred and yet, had to deal with it on a daily
basis with Draco and Lucius.
“During the summer, Hermione suggested that Lucius invested in the broom market, with the
upcoming World Cup and everything. It turned out to be a very good suggestion and he
offered her 10% per cent.”
Severus inhaled. Lucius indeed had the gift to be a stone in everyone else’s shoes. He looked
for the man in question in the crowd and found him holding court with Nicodemus and
Thadeus on either side. Lucius was talking to a Ministry Officer that Severus vaguely
recognised from the Magical Creatures Department, beside them was McNair, the Creature
Executioner. Even from a distance, Severus could see the exposed Death Eater mark on the
man’s forearm. Severus felt his own itching and he flexed his fingers, he wouldn’t scratch it.
He hadn’t touched it since the night of Lily’s death.
Narcissa caught what he was looking at, and she sighed. “Some people are just really
churlish.” She muttered and with a practised hosting smile turned to him, “if you’ll excuse
me, I need to carefully remove my husband from that presence, I don’t want the Prophet
taking pictures of him in such company.”
He scoffed. “Make sure that he doesn’t roll up his sleeves then,” Severus said under his
breath and Narcissa pretended not to hear him.
Finally left to his own devices, he grabbed a glass of fire whiskey and began people-glare, his
own improved version of people watching. Narcissa had indeed taken Lucius away from
Macnair and instead put him in the presence of the Bulgarian ministry just in time for the
International Prophet to snap a picture of them.
He had taken three sips of his glass and he knew his limits well enough to know that he was
nowhere near the process of getting drunk when he saw two pairs of feet stumble and quickly
disappear from view very close to where Macnair and Selwyn were talking. He narrowed his
eyes and looked around, trying to find the invisible guests again. Given his luck, he didn’t
need to think very hard to guess who the owners of the dress shoes and the mary-janes were.
Especially when one’s brother owned an invisibility cloak.
There. He saw the door to the music room open slightly, seemingly by itself, and quickly
strode in that direction. The culprits had just removed the cloak when he closed the door
behind him.
And of course, his daughter and godson were looking at him with wide, guilty eyes.
“What were you two doing?” He barked and the pair exchanged glances. “Have you lost your
goddamn minds?” He asked.
“We were just—” Draco began,
“I wanted to—” Hermione tried.

He whirled to Draco, who gulped. “You know better Draco.” He hissed. “You know the kind
of people that is out there. You know why she can’t exactly be seen walking around the
ballroom.”
Hermione glared. Just like Lily, the mere assumption that she couldn’t take care of herself
was considered an offence. “I can—” she started, and it suddenly dawned on him the risk that
she had taken and the consequences it might have happened.
“This is not Hogwarts, Hermione.” He snapped. “You can’t put on Potter’s cloak and wander
around the corridors in search of an adventure!” He saw her eyes widening at the realisation
that he knew about her brother’s cloak. “The people out there are the type of people who cast
first and ask later! I saw your feet under the cloak. Do you have any idea if someone else had
seen it?” He turned to Draco then, “You know these people Draco. Selwyn has cast an
unforgivable for much less.”
“I’m sorry.” The boy mumbled, looking down.
Hermione looked at Draco’s dejected form and glared at him. “It was my fault—”
“I have no doubt of it.”
“—I wanted to see what the Magical Creatures Department was doing here and if it had
anything to do with Buckbeak!” She explained. “They were talking about the Committee for
the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures! They are going to execute him!”
“Hagrid will get a hearing first, I’m sure.” He told her. “And it’s no reason to—”
“There’s no way Hagrid can win his appeal!” Hermione shrieked, cutting him off.
“And I suppose you think it’s your business to settle this?” He asked her. “Let me tell you
this, it isn’t. I think both of you know well enough by now that whatever Lucius wants, he
gets. So, would you please do me a favour and not get yourself killed in the process?”
Thankfully, they both nodded, and Severus wished he could believe in either of them. “Where
are the others?”
“At the game room,” Draco replied.
“Go to them and do not leave before your mother comes to fetch you.”
Hermione wished she could say that encounter with the Potions Master was her only scare
over the Christmas break, but a few days after the Ball Hermione got one of the biggest
scares of her life. She hadn’t taken the cloak out again; the Manor was big enough and with
only four occupants – and the uncountable number of house-elves – neither she nor Draco
needed it to move undetected. The night of the ball was the perfect opportunity for what
Hermione had promised Harry she’d do: find what she could on Sirius Black and the
godparent bond. The last thing they needed was for Black to be able to smell Harry
anywhere.
They were due back to the castle in two days and Hermione had spent most of her break
reading on the Malfoy library, and when Professor Snape was around – and willing to – she
helped him brew Wiggenweld Potion. Draco spent most of his afternoons practising
Quidditch with his father – and going on and on about the new Firebolt and dropping hints
that he wanted it – and it didn’t matter how much she enjoyed watching him twirl and dive,
she wouldn’t stay out to watch him with the cold that painted the Manor white.
Hermione checked her wristwatch, her father’s Christmas gift, and saw that their daily
practice had ended forty minutes ago. Picking up the books and returning them to their
places, she exited the library and went to meet Draco in Narcissa's morning room for tea and
biscuits. She was well acquainted with the manor by now, the many portraits of snarling
Malfoy men didn’t scare her anymore. She might not get lost anymore, but her awe of the
manor was still far from being over. There was a misplaced feeling of importance in her chest
when she crossed the long corridors, and her feet made no sound on the magnificent carpet.
Hermione could easily understand why one would be as self-assured as Draco, growing up in
these halls. Hermione had already read all about the manor in her first visits and she knew
that dozens of the statues and other works of art were muggle. There was a painting in
special, that she simply couldn’t pass by it and not stop to admire. Her mother was a big fan
of impressionist painting for Hermione to not recognise that style and the use of colour and
light to portray the daily changes in the scenery. Narcissa hadn’t answered when Hermione
asked, but she was sure that the Malfoys had a twenty-four by twenty inches Monet painting
of the Manor and the surrounding area.
The manor was indeed beautiful, and she couldn’t quite explain how or why, but her time
there always felt idyllic, like she had been transported to one of the many paintings, that her
world was as exquisite as the manor. Hermione liked her routine at the manor: breakfasts at
the Morning Room, iridescent colours created by the sunlight against the diamond-paned
windows; during the summer, the morning sun tanned her skin as she relaxed in Narcissa's
garden and in the winter, she laughed herself silly as she tried to teach Draco how to ice
skate; at the manor, she had magic everywhere, there were no “no magic in the corridors”
rules and she and Draco could explore Narcissa’s grimoire to their heart’s contents; and of
course, Draco’s undivided attention was something unrelenting and she grew greedy with it,
coveting every second of it.
There was something about this place, something about all the marble: white on the floor and
in the hand-carved columns, black on the bathroom sink and the bathtub, and the forest green
that covered the steps of the great staircase, that despite having all the reasons to look cold
and uninviting, had her whispering to Draco during their train journey back that she couldn’t
wait to go home. It was ridiculous, because Hermione was only fourteen and his grey eyes
had shone something clinquant, and she knew that her feelings for that boy were almost
reverent.
Her heart thumped on her chest at the thought, that strange giddiness that still sometimes
consumed her before seeing him. Hermione blamed on her mind being rooms away when she
literally bumped on someone moments later.
The person she knocked with her head made an amused sound and every warm feeling left
her body and was replaced by a chilling dread. She looked up to see the tall and muscular
man in front of her. He had a thin, black moustache and a nefarious smile when he looked
down on her. Hermione gulped, recognising him as Walden Macnair, one of the Death Eaters
that worked in the Ministry as an executioner. She had understood Professor Snape anger
later when the party had ended and Draco told her what he knew about the man when they
were gossiping on top of his bed.
“Are you lost, little girl?” He asked and she tried not to flinch at the sight of his teeth. She
was the daughter of dentists and they often told her that she could learn a lot about a person
by the way they treated their buccal hygiene.
“No.” She replied, trying to keep her voice steady.
“You look lost.” He told her and took a step closer, automatically she took another back.
“I’m really not.” She said and took another step back. It was the wrong move because his
eyes narrowed and darkened. He reached out and gripped her arm forcefully.
Hermione felt her body locking and she watched in horror when he licked his lips at the
sound of her panicked whimper.
“I should take you somewhere, don’t you think? I’m sure the Malfoys wouldn’t appreciate a
guest getting lost.” He insisted and her knees felt like rubber, she couldn’t even force them to
move anymore. Her wand was in her pocket, and she could easily grab it if only she managed
to get her hand to stop shaking and cooperate.
Macnair raised the hand not holding onto her arm and she flinched, he smiled at her reaction.
So, was this what it meant when her mother told her about sadistic people? He ran a dirty
finger through her hair, and she saw his dark mark. Something snapped and she struggled
against his hold, trying to remove her arm from his grip. He didn’t like that, and tightened his
grip on her, viciously pulling her towards him. She felt a tear running down her cheek when
she felt his breath against her face.
“Now, now. That wasn’t very nice.” He whispered in her ear and Hermione felt like puking,
she had to literally swallow down in order to not be sick all over him and make things even
worse for her. She moved back abruptly and knocked the top of her head against his nose. He
swore and pulled his wand out. His eyes flashed. “Incar—What?” he asked confused when
his wand snapped from his hand and flew past her. Hermione whirled around and saw that
Lucius Malfoy had it in his hand.
Hermione never felt so glad upon seeing Lucius Malfoy.
“I remember telling you to wait for me in the foyer,” Lucius said cooly and nodded to her.
Hermione quickly ran to him and stumbled halfway, her legs still wobbly. He put a hand on
her shoulder and swiftly put her behind him. Her hands were gripping on the back of his
cloak; she needed to hold onto something, she still didn’t trust her legs to keep her upright.
Macnair smiled, the same filthy smile that he had used on her. “You can’t blame me, Lucius,
not when you have such an inviting house.”
“Well, it’s good that you feel this way, but my house is uninviting you now.” He said and
with a flick of his wand, Hermione could swear that she felt the floor moving. Macnair
seemed to have felt it too because he tried to take another step in their direction and found
himself unable to.
“What’s this?” he asked, leerily and once again, saw that he couldn’t take a step in their
direction.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Lucius suggested, not kindly. “You will begin to feel
nauseous in a bit. I suggest you turn away now and leave my property before it forcefully
kicks you out.” Lucius told him and Hermione saw Macnair doubling in pain, his hands went
to his stomach.
“What is this?” He asked again, this time in a hiss.
“The Manor has many wards to protect its inhabitants Walden,” Lucius told him. “It’s a very
old building that has survived many wars. It knows better than to allow harm to come to the
people that call it home.”
Home.
She had just been thinking about it, about the way these walls made her insides warm, and it
didn’t matter that she was an outsider in an old-money magic household, the hundreds of
rooms had welcomed her and showed her that , yes, magic was hers and no one could take it
from her. Hermione didn’t care about all the many scorns and comments against her lineage,
not when at the end of the day, she could curl her legs in her favourite armchair in the Malfoy
Library and fill her own bookshelf in her own bedroom right next to Draco’s.
Macnair scowled and turned to leave, Hermione noticed he seemed a bit desperate to find the
exit as his steps were frantic.
They watched him leave and Lucius only turned to her when Macnair turned at the end of the
corridor. Hermione noticed Lucius still had the other’s wand as he pocketed it. Lucius put a
hand on each of Hermione’s shoulders and squeezed them. It wasn’t the same predatory way
that Macnair had just done, no, it was reassuring and comforting. “Did he hurt you?” Lucius
asked, his voice low and heedful.
Hermione was about to shake her head in the negative when she remembered Macnair’s lips
on her ear and his breath against her cheek. Her lower lip wobbled, and fresh tears gathered
in her eyes. In what Hermione seemed to believe to be impossible until now, Lucius Malfoy
gathered her in his arms and pulled her to a hug. She could only cry on his robes. He didn’t
know how to soothe her, but it didn’t matter and some part of her didn’t know how to wholly
deal with the situation.
This was the same man that had possession of Voldemort’s cursed diary that could possess
students to force them to do his bidding, namely control a mythological beast that preyed on
muggle-borns. This was the man that everyone called evil and had half of the students in her
house either terrified or fascinated. This was the man that Draco idolised. But he had come
for her. For Hermione Granger, the muggle-born.
When she finally stopped crying, she pulled back to dry her eyes and sniffed very unladylike-
y. He waved his wands to clean his robes from her soot and tears.
“Thank you,” Hermione said and he gave her a single nod.
“Let’s go find Draco.” He told her and with a supporting hand on her shoulder, he led her to
where he and Narcissa were probably tired of waiting.
Hermione didn’t tell either of them of had happened and when Narcissa asked Lucius about
his meeting, he simply replied that Macnair hadn’t shown up. Which led Hermione to believe
that Lucius wasn’t going to tell either.
Chapter End Notes
I hope you all have an enjoyable new year's eve and let's hope for 2022 to be better than
2021. It's crazy to think that at the beginning of 2021 I was halfway through posting my
first Dramione fic and now it has almost 100k hits, even crazier to think that this one has
reached over 20k hits in just six months. Thank you again to everyone that has read
either fic or even both! I really appreciate it.
Title and quote belong to Beth/Rest by Bon Iver

don't let them look through the curtains
Chapter Notes
Hello! Once again, thank you all for all the lovely comments on the last chapter! I've
read them all and will go through answering them this upcoming week
All characters belong to the original author, they are not mine.
I hope you enjoy this chapter! And please read the end notes!
places, places, get in your places

throw on your dress and put on your doll faces
everyone thinks that we're perfect
Chapter Twenty
Upon arriving in Hogwarts two days later, Hermione went after Harry the first chance she got
to return his cloak and to tell him of her discoveries. She caught him after dinner and barely
greeted Ron before pulling Harry away from the many ears that could overhear them. She
found that yes, Sirius Black could feel the thrum of Harry’s magic, but the strength of it
depended on the strength of the bond. And things such as the distance between them and the
relationship they had influenced it. Based on all her findings, she told him that unless Sirius
Black had spent the last thirteen years trying to feel their bond, the link was probably very
weak by now or almost nonexistent. Harry, who had found a new hatred towards the man,
believed that this was indeed what Black had spent his time in Azkaban doing.
“It doesn’t work like that,” she tried to tell him. “The bond exists to protect you, to keep you
safe Harry. It grows on love. At first, I thought it was something like those new GPS things
—”
“Those what?”
“Haven’t you seen?” He shook his head. “Honestly don’t you watch TV over the summer?
The tracking device on cars?” Harry shook his head to both questions, Hermione sighed.
Sometimes Harry was as bad as her friends down in the dungeons. “They are new and
probably will become available to everyone in a few years, there are many prototypes and
anyways, that’s not important.” She said and he agreed. “He can’t actually track you or feel
you if he doesn’t love you. That’s the most important thing.”
“So he can’t find me just with that?” he asked and she shook her head.
“If he’s planning to kill you it’s safe to assume that he doesn’t love you or is worried about
your safety.”
“Does it work both ways?” He asked her and Hermione narrowed her eyes.
“What do you mean? If you can track him?”
“Yeah.” Harry shrugged and Hermione knew him well enough by now to know that the boy
was stubborn enough to use all that hatred to exploit the bond.
“It requires practice,” she replied, cautiously, paying attention to his reaction. “It’s natural
when you are in danger, it’s like an unconscious call to him, but other than that, it requires
practice and the same things that influence his side, influence yours: love.”
Harry scowled and Hermione hoped that didn’t mean he was about to find some very
dangerous thing to get himself involved to draw out Black. “Harry, please,” she said, and she
could feel her eyes brimming with tears. “Please be sensible. Black did a terrible, terrible
thing, but you can’t put yourself in danger, it’s what he wants!” Harry didn’t look at her and
she felt dread taking over. “Harry, you’d be playing right into Black’s hands if you went
looking for him.” She tried again, insisting. “Your mum and dad wouldn’t want you to get
hurt, would they? They’d never want you to go looking for Black!”
“I’ll never know what they’d have wanted, because thanks to Black, I’ve never spoken to
them,” Harry replied curtly, and she shut up.
Hermione decided to change subjects, to at least remove that plotting expression from
Harry’s face for a while and she told him about what she had overheard during the ball about
Hagrid and Buckbeak. Harry told her about his and Ron’s visit during the break and how
distraught Hagrid had been. “I searched in the Malfoys library for anything that could help
me build a case for him, but it looks bleak.”
“It doesn’t help that Malfoy has the entirety of the Disposal Committee in his pockets.”
Hermione had met one of them and her body shivered with the memory. She wouldn’t let that
man anywhere near Buckbeak.
“Merlin,” Hermione sighed, “please tell me at least something nice happened during your
break.”
Harry grinned then and Hermione felt wary because suddenly he was very pleased. “You
won’t believe what I got for Christmas!” he told her excitedly and she smiled at his
happiness. Hermione knew for a fact that his aunt and uncle never gave him a present worth
of anything other than a scowl.
The smile slowly disappeared as he excitedly told her about his new Firebolt and how it
glittered and hummed and how perfect it was. She felt only dread when he told her about the
lack of a card along the Firebolt and how he had no idea who had given him such an
expensive gift. “What?” he asked, having finally taken note of her expression.
“Tell me you didn’t ride on that broom yet.”
Harry scoffed. “Of course, I did! It was the first thing I did and—What now?”
She bit her lip. “Don’t you think is weird? Why would someone gift you this very expensive
broom and not leave a card? Who do you know that have the money to buy it?”
“I don’t know Hermione, Ron said it could have been from Lupin, but he hasn’t returned it
yet and well—” he blushed a little, “he doesn’t look like someone who has the money to buy
it.”
She was about to say what she was thinking when the bell rang, and they both scrambled to
go to their classes.
Hermione spent the rest of the day worrying about him and after making a long list in her
head of all the points that proved her right, she decided to go to Professor McGonagall. She
knew that if she went to her own Head of House the chances of Harry ever forgiving her were
slim.
Of course, McGonagall readily agreed with her and when rumours started to spread around
the castle that McGonagall had confiscated Harry’s Firebolt for inspection, she decided to
skip breakfast the next day to avoid Harry’s reaction. But it didn’t take her long to find out
just how angry Harry was, because he barged into the Potions classroom and didn’t care that
Snape was already glaring at him when Harry stopped in front of her. He was fuming.
But unsurprisingly, the explosion came from Ron. “What did you go running to McGonagall
for?” He roared and Hermione jumped a little, not prepared for such an outburst.
“Because—because I—”
“Because Miss Granger clearly is the only one with brains,” came Professor Snape's flat
reply. “You might think yourself very famous Potter, but you still don’t have many fans that
would spend hundreds on a broom so that you can play in a silly school tournament.”
A few of her friends snickered and Hermione felt herself reddening. The last thing she
wanted was to have Harry humiliated on top of it all. “McGonagall agrees with me.” She told
Harry. “That Sirius Black might have sent you that broom.”
Ronald’s face went through various colours before he found his voice. “Are you bloody
insane? He’s a wanted criminal! Do you think what? He came out of hiding long enough to
stop by at Diagon Alley where there are hundreds of wanted posters of his face to shop for a
broom?”
“Ten points from Gryffindor.” Snape barked. “This is not the tone for a classroom. Sit down
both of you before I decide I don’t want you in here.”
Ron glared at her one last time and Harry only said, “you shouldn’t have interfered.” Before
allowing his friend to pull him away.
Things didn’t get better for her and Harry, in fact, she could almost swear that they got even
worse. His Quidditch Captain went berserk when he heard that they were going to strip it
down, whatever that meant, and now Harry had joined Ron and Theo on the Glare At
Hermione bandwagon.
“I much preferred your glaring.” She told Theo on Thursday when they were to meet
Professor Lupin for their first lesson against Dementors and Harry hadn’t even deemed it
worth saying hi to her. Theo only smirked and threw his arm around her shoulder.
“It’s because I look very handsome doing it. He just looks like he had a stroke.”
“Shut up Nott.” Harry snapped.
Hermione sighed. Their first tutoring was about to be a long one. They arrived at the History
of Magic classroom, and it was dark and empty still. Hermione, not one to easily deal with
idleness, set to light the lamps with her wand. Theo in his good Slytherin fashion heaved
himself on top of Binn’s desk. Harry scowled at them both.
Theo had grown annoyed at Hermione’s fidgeting and had pulled her to sit with him. He was
drumming with his fingers on her thigh when Lupin arrived.
“I will have to ask you guys to move.” He said when he spotted them. They quickly jumped
from the desk and the large packing case Lupin had been carrying replaced them on top of it.
“What’s that?” Harry asked curiously. Now he talked.
“Another boggart,” explained their professor, while stripping off his cloak. “I’ve been trying
to find another one ever since we decided to have these classes.” He continued, “I found this
one inside Mr Filch’s filing cabinet.”
“But what good will that do to us?” Theo asked warily. Hermione knew he had no desire to
see his father casting a killing curse at him again.
“Harry’s boggart is a dementor, therefore it’s the nearest we’ll get to a real dementor,” Lupin
told them and Hermione saw Harry gulping a bit. “The boggart will turn into a dementor
when he sees him, so we’ll be able to practice on him. I can store him in my office when
we’re not using him; there’s a cupboard under my desk he’ll like.” He finished with a grin.
Hermione didn’t see any amusement in storing a boggart under ones’ desk.
If Lupin noticed that something was amiss between her and Harry, he didn’t mention it and
set off on explaining what they would be doing that evening. “The spell I am going to try and
teach you is highly advanced magic, well-beyond Ordinary Wizarding Level.” Hermione felt
herself growing tall at that. “It is called the Patronus Charm.” She grinned; she had read on
those after her research on dementors.
Theo snorted. “Nerd.” He muttered under his breath.
“How does it work?” Harry asked nervously.
Lupin turned to her. “Do you want to answer that?”

She nodded. “The Patronus Charm conjures a Patronus, which is a kind of anti-dementor
shield and when it’s strong enough, can send them away.” Hermione explained in what
certainly Draco would call her ‘textbook voice’. “It’s a positive force, a projection of the
things that a dementor feeds on.”
Lupin grinned. “Exactly.”
“Five points to Slytherin, maybe?” Theo asked and Lupin snorted.
“Fine. Five points to Slytherin.” He said and then picked up on the explanation. “The
Patronus will feed the dementor and because it can’t feel despair like we can, the dementors
can’t affect it. But, as I said, it’s very advanced magic and not all wizards and witches can
cast it.” Hermione caught Lupin’s quick glance at Theo.
Of course, Theo had noticed it too. “Death Eaters can’t cast it.” He said and Lupin nodded.
Harry was angry, so Hermione expected him to blurt something offensive to Theo, but was
surprised when he simply asked, “What does a Patronus look like?” curiously.
“Each one is unique to the person who conjures it.”
“And how do you conjure it?” This time it was Theo who asked.
“There is an incantation.” Lupin began, “But the spell only works if you are concentrating
very hard, with everything you have on a single, very happy memory.”
They all nodded, and Hermione began to search in her mind for her happiest memory. Maybe
when McGonagall came to tell her that she was a witch and that everything she had done
until that point wasn’t because she was crazy or a weirdo. Or when she came up in first at the
end of their first year and Professor McGonagall called her the Brightest Witch of their age?
She looked around and her friends were all grinning a bit, thinking of whatever their happiest
memory was.
“The incantation is this—” Lupin cleared his throat. “Expecto Patronum!”
“Expecto Patronum,” they echoed.
“Concentrating hard on your happy memory?” They nodded. “Theo, you first then.”
The boy nodded and she saw his expression clear a bit, for once, the blue in his eyes wasn’t
stormy. He pulled his wand and prepared himself. “Expecto Patronum!” He cast and
something whooshed from the tip of his wand, something pearly and shapeless.
“Very good, Theo. Very good.” Lupin praised him. “Harry, ready to try?”
The boy nodded. “Expecto Patronum!” Same with Theo, a wisp of silvery gas came out of his
wand, not as strong as Theo’s, but by Lupin’s smile, it was good all the same.
Hermione got ready to try. She thought of McGonagall’s words: I’ve never seen such
potential at such young age. She smiled and cast. “Expecto Patronum!” Just like with the
boys, something silvery and shapeless came out, but it was weak and as quick as it appeared,
it was gone. Hermione frowned.
“It’s okay Hermione. Maybe you should try another memory.” Lupin told her and she
nodded. Theo squeezed her arm briefly.
“Sometimes it’s not the most obvious thing that made us the happiest.” He told her and she
could only blink at such a piece of wisdom from a thirteen-year-old.
Professor Lupin also seemed impressed and clapped on Theo’s back.
“Right. Harry, do you want to try it on a dementor?”
“Yes,” Harry replied and moved to the middle of the classroom, facing the still closed
packing case. Hermione watched him get tense and grip his wand tightly. She wondered what
he might be thinking and felt sad when she realised he probably wouldn’t tell her.
Their professor went to stand next to the case and when Harry nodded, Lupin pulled it open.
Hermione watched as a dementor rose slowly from the box, its hooded face turned toward
Harry, one glistening, scabbed hand gripping its cloak. Theo pulled her behind him and she
gripped on his sleeve. The lamps around the classroom flickered and then went out. She held
onto Theo. The dementor stepped from the box and started to sweep silently toward Harry,
drawing a deep, rattling breath.
“Expecto Patronum!” Harry yelled. “Expecto Patronum! Expecto—”
A muted scream got caught on Hermione’s throat when she saw him falling back. “Harry!”
She yelled.
Lupin quickly got rid of the dementor with his own Patronus and closed the case again.
Theo let her go and she ran to Harry, he was already waking up, and she had barely touched
his shoulders when he noticed that it was her and jerked her away. Hermione fell back on her
ass. Theo scowled behind her and helped her up.
“Sorry,” Harry muttered to Lupin, instead of her. He sat up and then pulled himself up on one
of the many scattered desks around the classroom.
“Are you all right?” Lupin asked.
“Yes…”
Hermione kept her distance, because one glare from Harry, held her exactly where she was.
“Here —” Lupin handed him a Chocolate Frog. “I didn’t expect you to do it your first time;
in fact, I would have been astounded if you had.”
“It’s getting worse,” Harry muttered, biting off the Frog’s head. “I could hear her louder that
time — and him — Voldemort —”
Hermione saw Lupin getting even paler than his usual self.
“Harry, if you don’t want to continue, I will more than understand —”
“I do!” He said fiercely, stuffing the rest of the Chocolate Frog into his mouth. “I’ve got to!
What if the dementors turn up at our match against Ravenclaw? I can’t afford to fall off
again. If we lose this game we’ve lost the Quidditch Cup!”
“Because that’s what’s important!” Hermione snapped.
Harry whirled in her direction. “Yes! Even more now that you took the best broom available
from me and I probably will have to use one of the shitty ones that the school has!” He yelled
back and she curled around herself and felt her back pressing against Theo’s chest.
“Watch your tone with her.” Theo bit out.
“All right,” Lupin said, clearly surprised with the show. “Whatever is going on here, let’s put
it off for later, ok? We are trying to cast a spell that requires happy thoughts, not whatever
this is.” He waited for both her and Harry to nod their understanding to continue. “Theo, your
turn.”
“My boggart is not a dementor.” He said as it was obvious.
Harry jumped from the desk and got in front of Theo. “Let it see me first.”
Just like Harry, Theo didn’t manage to cast it successfully and Lupin had to intervene both
for Theo's and for Harry’s sake. Hermione didn’t want to try it then, because she hadn’t even
managed to cast the spell without the presence of a Boggart, she doubted she’d do it.
Harry tried once more and again; he fell. Hermione didn’t run to him this time, only watched
from where she stood. Her fingernails probably left marks on Theo’s palm with how hard she
was gripping it.
This time it took longer for him to come back to his senses. “I heard my dad,” Harry
mumbled and Hermione felt her heart twist. Harry didn’t deserve to have to relive his
parent’s death. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard him — he tried to take on Voldemort
himself, to give my mum time to run for it.”
He was crying, Hermione noticed and soon Harry realised it too. He scowled at her and Theo,
ashamed that they had seen him cry. He quickly wiped them off with his robes.
“You heard James?” Lupin asked and Hermione noticed how strange his voice was as if he
was trying out those words for the first time in a very long time. She remembered him asking
about their visions from their time in the hospital, how she had noticed something different
then too but had just put it aside due to the upcoming full moon.
“Yeah—” Harry replied.

“You knew him.” She said and both Harry and Lupin looked up to her. Harry nodded, having
come to the same realisation as her. Lupin, for his part, looked resigned that Hermione had
found yet another secret of his.
“Yes.” He answered, even though Hermione hadn’t asked it. “I did, yeah,” said Lupin. “We
were friends at Hogwarts.” He told them. Harry was staring at him with wide eyes, she knew
that hundreds of questions were running around his head, for Harry was always eager for
information about his parents.
She also knew that it would take a bit longer for Harry to realise that this meant Professor
Lupin had been also Sirius Black’s friend. What did it mean then? Their Defence Against the
Dark Arts knew Sirius Black, was he at Hogwarts to keep Harry safe? Because he was the
only one that knew both involved parts?
Lupin glanced at her, and he probably saw something in her expression, because he quickly
tried to end their tutoring, but Harry refused, claiming that he wanted to try again.
“Gryffindors,” Theo muttered under his breath.
“All right.” Lupin relented. “But you might want to select another memory, another happy
one. That one doesn’t seem to be strong enough.”
When Lupin opened the case for the third time, Hermione knew it would be different this
time. Instead of the flimsy silvery wisp, came a huge silver shadow and Hermione could
swear she saw something gaining form in the smoke. The dementor halted and Lupin sprang
forward, casting Riddikulus and putting the Boggart away. Not before they all caught a
glimpse of the full moon that was his own Boggart.
“Excellent!” Lupin said, striding over to where Harry sat. “Excellent, Harry! That was
definitely a start!” He smiled hugely at him, and Hermione felt herself smiling too.
“Can we have another go? Just one more go?”
“Not now,” he said firmly. “You’ve had enough for one night.” He handed him a large bar of
the best chocolate Honeydukes had to offer – Hermione knew that not only because Draco,
the sweet tooth that he was, had gone on and on about it but also because Theo beside her had
huffed in clear jealousy.
Lupin turned to them then. “Do you want to try again Theo?”
“No. I’m good. But I’d like the chocolate though.” He replied and Hermione rolled her eyes.
Lupin smirked and threw him one bar as well.
They were all about to leave when Harry turned, and Hermione knew it at once that he had
figured it out. Hermione decided to watch Lupin’s reaction. “Professor Lupin?” Harry called.
“If you knew my dad, you must’ve known Sirius Black as well.”
He stilled at the name and turned very quickly. “What gives you that idea?” He asked sharply.
“I just know that he and my dad were friends at Hogwarts too.” Lupin’s face relaxed
immediately.
“Yes, I knew him,” he said shortly. Coldly. “Or I thought I did. You guys should go, it’s
getting late.”
Hermione added this to her ever-growing list of things to do: a happy memory. The week
passed in a blur, her twelve subjects finally weighing down on her. She had taken to sleep
five hours a day to find time to do all that she had to. Her schedule was insane, and she kept
it close to her and hidden from prying eyes, lest one of her friends saw that she had Potions
Study Session, Arithmancy Class and Care of Magical Creatures on Tuesday at 10 a.m. And
that was only one day in her week.
The only good thing of it all was that Professor McGonagall had found her an unused
classroom where Hermione could always go to use her time turner.
On Saturday, Theo’s piece of advice made more sense, because when Draco caught the snitch
against Ravenclaw and flew to where she and the others were sitting, she felt her heart
expanding at the sight of his white-blond hair, slicked back with sweat gleaming in the weak
sunlight from mid-January. He winked at her, and his face was golden with pure, unchecked
happiness and she thought back on their evenings at the Manor and how he laughed openly
and carefree when it was only them on top of his bed. She thought on the moments that he
felt like a whirlwind, easy to enter and impossible to leave and she could only cling to his
smiles and his impossible grey eyes.
When Thursday came and she got ready to try her Patronus charm again, she knew exactly
what memory to use.
They were two weeks into February when Draco cornered her. She was in her usual table in
the corner of the Common Room, books sprawled over the table and chairs. Hermione almost
shrieked when Draco removed her Arithmancy charts from one of the chairs and put them on
top of her Ancient Runes dictionary.
“I can’t talk right now; I have to finish this—”
“Ancient Runes and Arithmancy are both on Wednesdays after lunch.” He simply said. “And
on Mondays, Arithmancy clashes with Care of Magical Creatures. And on Thursdays, Care of
Magical Creatures clashes with Muggle Studies. Theo said you haven’t missed a single
Muggle Studies lesson, but you also haven’t missed a single lesson that oaf teaches.”
“If you want to know something, you have to ask a question Draco.” She told him, without
looking up from the diagram she was working on.
“A question would imply that I don’t know the answer.” He replied and she felt her heart
thumping unevenly when his hand came up to where her Time-Turner was hidden beneath
her sweater. She snapped her eyes up to him, only to find him very close and already
smirking. His fingers touched the chain and she fought down a shiver when his fingers met
the skin on her throat.
He pulled back and smiled at her, waiting.
“How do you know?”
“Theo had a series of questions. How were you getting us all those points, how could you be
on Muggle Studies and Ancient Runes with him but also on Care of Magical Creatures and
Divination? You know, all the important questions.”
Hermione sighed. She had underestimated Theo’s interest and Draco’s brain. She knew it
would have been much easier if she had been on Gryffindor, where all the third years had
chosen the same two classes. But no, she had ended up with the ambitious and cunning
Slytherin. How could she have expected that she’d find another Slytherin on Muggle Studies,
of all classes? And Theo Nott of all people.
“Congratulations are in order, I guess.”
“I will keep your secret Granger.” He told her and simple as that, left.
Just another thing to add on the ever-growing list of things the Malfoy's did that made no
sense.
The classes on the Patronus continued and in their fourth week, as the Ravenclaw and
Gryffindor match approached and Harry still hadn’t improved much with the spell – much
like her and Theo –, he got progressively angrier at her, especially because McGonagall had
yet to return his new broom.
“This is your fault!” Harry yelled at her that Thursday.
“Oh, please! You don’t need a stupid broom to cast a spell! You won’t be sweeping a
dementor with it!”
“If you hadn’t concerned yourself with things that had nothing to do with you, I wouldn’t
have to worry about whether or not I will be able to fly properly on Saturday and then focus
on a happy memory!”
“Things that don’t concern me!? Harry, it’s your safety! Of course, it concerns me!”
“Guys,” Lupin started, coming between them. “Harry.” He called. “I’m sorry, but I really
think Hermione was right in this.” He told him and it didn’t do anything to stop Harry from
glaring at her. Lowly, more for him than anyone else, he muttered, “it’s exactly what he’d
do.”
He finished his lesson quickly after that. Hermione and Theo went back to the Slytherin
dungeons in silence, all their happy memories didn’t seem to be enough, and it was
frustrating to think that they weren’t sufficiently happy.
When they crossed the statue that served as gatekeeper to their common room, they quickly
found their friends lounging in one of the sofas. “How was it?” Pansy asked, she was always
curious to know if they had improved. Apparently, her mother had a swan as a Patronus,
Pansy thought it was beautiful and was eager to know what shape theirs would become.
“Besides the fact that Professor Lupin had to pull Granger and Potter apart, it was the same.”
Draco snorted. “He’s still cross with you?” He asked, and she rolled her eyes. Cross was an
understatement. “I will take that as a yes then,” Draco said with a grin and patted the place
next to him, she promptly sat down and bit down on the inside of her cheek to hide the grin
that threatened to escape when he leaned on her side.
They talked for a bit and when the prefect came ushering them to their beds, they all made
their way to the dormitory. Hermione only noticed that Pansy was looking at her weirdly
when the raven-haired girl didn’t stop on her own bed and instead kept walking and sat down
by Hermione’s bed.
“What?” Hermione asked, slightly uncomfortable with Pansy’s gaze.
“Sit,” Pansy ordered and Hermione was appalled. Was she ordering Hermione around in her
own bed? When Hermione didn’t promptly comply, Pansy sighed and pulled Hermione by
the wrist and then closed the curtains around them. “Muffiato!” She cast and Hermione was
mildly impressed. Because, of course, Pansy would know a fifth-year spell if it could
improve her gossiping habit.
“What?” Hermione asked again, already annoyed with the secrecy.
“I am your best friend, aren’t I?” Was she being serious right now?
“What?” Hermione blurted, apparently, this was the only word she knew tonight.
“The boys aside, I’m your best friend, right?” Pansy asked again, clearly not understanding
Hermione’s confusion, but still not bothered enough to clarify or explain the reason behind
such inquisition now.
“Yes.” She said because weirdly enough, it was the truth. Hermione wasn’t very good with
girls, she knew that. All her years growing up before Hogwarts, she had never had a single
girlfriend, not that she had many boyfriends then, but the very few that she got to play for a
while before they deemed her too boring or weird, had all been boys.
It was no surprise that she’d get close to boys in Hogwarts, not when she had no idea how to
talk to girls despite being one. She didn’t care all that much about makeup, hairstyles or
clothing, she always felt a little bit adrift whenever Pansy and Daphne started talking fashion.
But this between them had been hard built. Hermione still remembered the first words Pansy
had spoken to her, in this same room. You don’t belong here, the girl had sneered. She
remembered the changes, small at first, but constant and meaningful.
“You are mine, too. First place. Proper best friend.” Pansy said and she looked a bit sad.
Hermione was thoroughly confused now. “Why are we talking about this?”
“Because not once you mentioned that you like Draco,” Pansy said, straight to the point.
Hermione felt her breath catching. “I knew it since probably before you. I definitely knew
before Draco did—” Draco knew she liked him? Merlin, how could she face him now? Pansy
didn’t seem to notice that Hermione’s mind was far away, she kept talking, “—I had a crush
on him, like everyone else, because it’s Draco, we are all supposed to have a crush on him
anyway.” Hermione felt herself smiling at that, remembering what Theo had told her. “But I
know your crush is the realest one because you never said a thing.” She finished as if that
made any sense. Pansy saw the dubious expression on her face and explained, “Milli and
Tracey were trying to catch his attention since the beginning of the term, with no success.
They have moved on to Blaise now as if he has ever looked in their direction.” Pansy rolled
her eyes. “I like Draco just fine, but Father wants me to leave Hogwarts with a wedding as
well as my N.E.W.Ts and I prefer it to be with someone I actually like than—” she shuddered
and Hermione remembered Pansy’s Boggart. “I’ve seen you looking at him, but better yet,
I’ve seen you looking away.”
Hermione lowered her head, staring at her fingers on her lap. That was a truth that Hermione
hadn’t realised. She spent a lot of time looking at Draco, but she also spent even more time
looking away, afraid that her new and unresolved feelings would escape from her eyes.
“I—”
“I kissed him because I knew I would get away with it. He’s handsome and I thought, why
not? I will have to marry anyway, I should at least try to get one that won’t beat me—”
Hermione’s eyes widened and she barely avoided flinching. “Pansy, you’ve just turned
fourteen, why are you talking about husbands?”
“Granger, my entire life has been decided in contracts, the same thing happened with my
mother’s. My father doesn’t have a son, I’m not much of an heir and he needs to make sure
that his fortune doesn’t go to waste. It doesn’t matter that I’m five, fourteen or twenty, I don’t
get a say. So, I decided to take my chances.”
“With Draco, you mean?”
She nodded. “But he has less interest in me than Blaise has on Milli and Tracy. I can’t afford
to insist on something that won’t bring me results.”
“But that’s—”
“Smart? Cunning? Business-oriented?”
“I was going to say sad, but I guess business-oriented is another option,” Hermione said,
because she knew quite well that Pansy was indeed business-oriented.
Pansy wasn’t expecting that, and Hermione offered the girl a smile. “I think you should spend
more time proving to your father that you can be his heir than with finding a husband. You’d
be better than any boy we have down here.”
Pansy grinned, “oh, I know that.” And with a sleazy smile, added. “Will you help me? Be the
next chairman of Parkinson Industries? Chairwoman, I guess. I can even offer you a position
as my secretary if you want.”
Hermione snorted and soon they were both giggling. Pansy went off on everything she’d like
to do in her future and Hermione saw that she had given much more thought to that than to
her future husband. Hermione didn’t think it was fair that all of her friends had to be anything
other than what they wanted only because of the surnames they carried. She thought back on
Draco and the weight of the Malfoy name on his shoulder. There was a corridor with busts of
all of the Malfoy men at the Manor and at the end was an enormous tapestry showing how far
back the Malfoy line went and how pure it was, the centuries behind it.
The same thing that went through her mind then was in her mind now. She had no place
there, despite seeing that place as home. Not when she was a muggle-born. Lucius might
even tolerate her and sometimes she went as far as to believe that he actually liked her, but
she knew he’d never accept it. He’d never allow it.
“You know better than I do,” she said finally, her voice quiet and slightly defeated. “I can’t
like him.”
Chapter End Notes
The title and quote at the beginning are from Dollhouse by Melanie Martinez.
Unfortunately, the next chapter won't be on until January 22nd, as I'm flying out next
Friday for a vacation. If any readers are from Portugal or have been there, give me some
recommendations as well as your thoughts on this chapter!
and you are only just beginning
Chapter Notes
Hello!! I'm back! thank you so much for all the lovely comments and wishes. I had a
great vacation and absolutely adored every place I visited in Portugal. it was a nice
change from my negative winter to enjoy a week of warmer days.
This chapter is quite big and I hope you guys enjoy it! there are a lot of things that all of
you have been waiting for a while.
And on a sadder note, I just found out (thank you the reader who pointed out to me) that
this story is being translated into Spanish without my authorization, the person doing it
never talked to me about it. it's very upsetting because despite having my ao3 user name
on the top of the first chapter, nowhere in the story the person says that it's a translation
or that she's not the original author of the story.
I have no problems with translations as long as the person asks me first (which is
common sense in my opinion) and that they do a proper job out of it, which is not the
case as I understand Spanish and it's clear to me that it's just google-translate.
I don't have access to my account on FanFiction.net anymore, so if any of you do have
accounts there, please take the time to go to La Hermana Desaparecida by
Alessandra98125 there and let her know that I do not approve of her translation.
Oh, children
We have the answer to all your fears
It's short, it's simple, it's crystal-clear
It's roundabout and it's somewhere here
Lost amongst our winnings
Chapter Twenty One
Harry deemed it worth talking to her again in the week preceding the match, for McGonagall
had returned his broom to him after not finding anything amiss with it. She sighed, she had
done what she believed was right and every teacher so far had seemed to agree with her –
even the one who actually knew Black. But Hermione couldn’t even enjoy the end of her
standstill with Harry because right after it, Ronald came down the Great Hall yelling murder
and blaming her cat for it. As if Crookshanks would have gone all the way to the Gryffindor
Tower, managed to enter the dormitory, found Ron’s bed and eaten Scabbers. Hermione was
astonished by such imagination.
It also didn’t help that Draco had heard Ron’s accusation and exclaimed for the entire hall to
listen: “Oh, that’s why he arrived with fur and blood all over him?” which had been an
immense lie because no one had seen Crookshanks either. Hermione only hoped her cat
wasn’t with that dog again.
She ignored Ronald and every time they got too close, he snarled and dragged Harry away.
Harry, for his part, could only send her apologetic looks and mouth 'later'.
...
The long-awaited quidditch game came and Hermione couldn’t believe her eyes when she
saw what Draco, Vince, Greg and Marcus had done. All her hard work into putting Slytherin
in the lead with points gone to waste with a childish, ridiculous, imprudent prank! She was
near tears when she found them at their Common Room after the game.
“Fifty points!” She shrieked at Draco when she saw him. “Do you have any idea how much I
will have to work to get that back?”
“Probably two days” Draco muttered, and she swatted at him. Hard. Their discussion would
have gone much further if it wasn’t for the Prefect separating them and ordering them to go
back to their dormitory.
Hermione was already stressed enough with all her work and the four hundred and seventy
pages she still had to read, not to mention her research on Magical Creatures’ law to help
Hagrid with his hearing that was approaching, now she had to work even harder to get their
fifty points back. Hermione had no idea how to even begin achieving that.
When morning came, she followed her friends in silence trying to form a plan to get the
points. She could try to ask Professor McGonagall for a special project, but the professor was
too strict and she would see right through Hermione. Professor Snape was a better option,
he'd be glad to find a way to give them back the points Dumbledore removed, but it was
unlikely he'd award her anything more than ten points. Their Potions Master liked to hoard
his points. What about Professor Lupin? He--
"Earth to Hermione," Blaise called and shook her arm. "You can go through the newest
amendment on the wizarding constitution during lunch, something happened at the
Gryffindor Tower."
"What?" She asked, just as the murmuring got to their table.
“They were saying he got into Gryffindor Tower last night—”
“That Fool Longbottom lost the weeks password and he found it!”
“—who was the idea of letting that squib into Hogwarts anyway?”
“Sir Cadogan literally opened the door to a mass murderer! I knew portraits were quite dumb,
but like? He had one job!”
“—but Black got the wrong bed though, slashed Weasley’s curtains and had a knife on his
face when Weasley screamed like a girl.”
The talking went on and on, Hermione felt her hands trembling and she had to let go of her
knife and fork. It had been very close. What would have happened if Black had found Harry’s
bed? And—
“But it doesn’t make sense,” Blaise said to them only, “If Black is as mad as they say, why
didn’t he just kill Weasley and the others until he found Potter? He killed twelve muggles the
night he was sent to Azkaban, didn’t he? What, are you telling me he lost his game after
Azkaban?”
“One would think he’d leave the place worse than he arrived,” Theo said, agreeing with
Blaise.
Hermione felt herself nodding. Yes. It didn’t make much sense, did it? Ronald screamed and
Black just ran? He could easily outsmart five sleeping third-year students, couldn’t he?
She chanced a glance at the teacher’s table and saw that neither Professor Snape nor
Professor Lupin was there.
It was clearly noticeable, how much security improved after that, it was a bit like the second
year all over again, with the professors patrolling corridors, checking and double-checking
doors and windows. The corridor to Gryffindor tower was being secured by trolls and no one
could go nowhere without informing a professor.
Hermione really wanted to throttle Ronald and she didn’t bother to tell Draco off when he
began pestering the boy, because what kind of friend could be so reckless with Harry’s
safety? Couldn’t he see that the map was completely dangerous? What if Black somehow got
hold of it? Or what if Black knew one of the secret passages and found Harry on the way
trying to sneak out? After all, twice had Black managed to get in and out of the castle without
being seen.
She refused to go to Hogsmeade that weekend because of all the work she still had to do.
There was no better time to use her Time-Turner than when the castle was empty, and no one
would notice a few Hermiones hanging around. She watched her friends leave for the village
from the courtyard, Draco had promised to bring her sweets and chocolate. She only smiled,
because she knew he’d probably eat all of them himself. Hermione was still waving when she
saw Ron leaving on his own. She narrowed her eyes at him.
Merlin, he was a terrible liar, just by his expression she knew Harry was going to meet him
there. Well, if he wasn’t going to put Harry’s safety first, she would.
Stomping, Hermione got back inside and went straight to Professor Snape’s office. Didn’t
they think they could simply throw her aside or ignore her concerns as if she was being
ridiculous? Well, they’d get what they deserved.
This time, she knocked first, Hermione still had thirty-seven points to win and couldn’t afford
to piss the Potions Master more than it was his usual.
“Come in,” he said, his voice indicating that he was already tired of the conversation.
“Excuse me, Professor.” She said as she closed the door behind her.
Professor Snape leaned back on his chair and looked at her suspiciously. She quickly ran
through a mental list to check if she had done anything wrong in the last week or so and
thankfully came up clear. “So, you do know how to knock.” He told her and she blushed.
She still hadn’t got over her embarrassment from the day she dumped a pile of books on his
desk. Hermione decided to ignore that comment. “Harry is going to Hogsmeade without
authorisation.” She told him and his eyes narrowed.
“Is he, now?”
“Yes.” She said and gulped. Harry could never, never, find out about this. “He knows a secret
passage that goes straight to Honeydukes, it’s the—”
“One-eyed witch statue on the third floor.” He concluded; Hermione nodded.
She worried her bottom lip and took a tentative step closer to his desk, trying her best
innocent expression and sweetest voice, she asked, “If you indeed end up finding him there,
could you please not expel him?”
Not a single emotion passed through his face, for a second Hermione could swear he got even
colder, especially his eyes. “Potter’s future in the school is entirely up to him, Miss Granger.”
Sighing, she nodded and turned to leave, preparing to write a very long letter apologising to
him.
After a rather surprising visit from his daughter, who only served to prove that Potter had
indeed known about that passage when he found him and Longbottom on the third-floor
corridor, he got a second surprising visit a few hours later, this time from his godson, who
was fuming. “He thinks he’s bloody funny!” Draco snarled, pacing in front of him. “He threw
mud at me, uncle, mud!” and indeed, Severus could still see the remains of a poorly done
cleaning spell. It didn’t surprise him that Draco, who had never pushed up his own bedsheets
didn’t know how to cast a decent Scourgify. “I could see his head! He was wearing that cloak
of his, the one Hermione and I had during Christmas!”
“I will deal with that Draco, could you please stop pacing, this is unbecoming behaviour.”
He saw Draco’s retort before it escaped the boy’s mouth, but he never got to hear it, because
Draco remembered himself just in time.
When Draco finally left to finish cleaning himself, Severus sighed and went to wait for
Potter’s return. It didn’t take long, he heard the statue moving and as he turned the corner,
caught Potter emerging.
The boy's expression was priceless. "Follow me," he ordered and now only saw, but heard the
boy gulping. Severus tried to suppress his happiness. “So,” he said with barely contained
triumph as they arrived at his office “Sit,” He ordered.
Potter obeyed and Severus took the opportunity to loom over him. “Mr Malfoy has just been
to see me with a strange story, Potter,” he began. Potter remained in silence. “He tells me that
he was up by the Shrieking Shack when he ran into Weasley — apparently alone. Mr Malfoy
states that he was standing talking to Weasley when a large amount of mud hit him in the
back of the head. How do you think that could have happened?”
James Potter had been a better actor in his time, it was quite pathetic Potter’s look of feigned
surprise. “I don’t know, Professor.” He told him, which was a complete lie, not only because
Potter was trying very hard to not give anything away with his expression, but he also felt
proud of his ghostly little act that he couldn’t help but have it all at the forefront of his mind.
“Mr Malfoy then saw an extraordinary apparition. Can you imagine what it might have been,
Potter?”
“No,”
“It was your head, Potter. Floating in midair.” He explained and, honestly? Dumbledore
didn’t pay him nearly enough for him to have to say these things with a straight face.
“Maybe he’d better go to Madam Pomfrey,” it was Potter’s very insolent reply, “if he’s seeing
things like—”
“What’d your head have been doing in Hogsmeade, Potter?” Snape cut him off, softly. “Your
head is not allowed in Hogsmeade. No part of your body has permission to be in
Hogsmeade.”
“I know that” Potter retorted. “It sounds like Malfoy’s having hallucin—”
“Malfoy is not having hallucinations,” he snarled, and then bent down, a hand on each arm of
the chair Potter was sitting. He had to put his occlumency shields in place when he got really
close to Lily’s green eyes. “If your head was in Hogsmeade, so was the rest of you.”
“I’ve been up in Gryffindor Tower like you told—”
“Can anyone confirm that?”
For once, the boy didn’t have a reply. He felt a smile curling in his mouth. It was extremely
satisfying watching James’ copy squirm. He remembered Hermione’s concern and request.
“So,” he said, straightening up. “Everyone from the Minister of Magic has been trying to
keep famous Harry Potter safe from Sirius Black. But famous Harry Potter is a law unto
himself.” He made sure to drawl famous and Harry Potter to show the extent of his distaste.
“Let the ordinary people worry about his safety! Famous Harry Potter goes where he wants
to, with no thought for the consequences.” The boy still held his tongue. James’ ego had been
bigger then. “How extraordinarily like your father you are, Potter,” He couldn’t help but say.
“He too was exceedingly arrogant. A small amount of talent on the Quidditch field made him
think he was a cut above the rest of us too. Strutting around the place with his friends and
admirers…The resemblance between you is uncanny.”
“My dad didn’t strut,” Potter retorted. “And neither do I.”

“Your father didn’t set much store by rules either,” He went on. “Rules were for lesser
mortals, not Quidditch Cup-winners. His head was so swollen—”
“SHUT UP!” Potter yelled and got on his feet. He could feel the rage around the boy and for
a second, he forgot that he was a teacher.
“What did you say to me, Potter?”
“I told you to shut up about my dad!” Potter had the audacity to yell again. “I know the truth,
all right? He saved your life! Dumbledore told me! You wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for
my dad!”
Severus felt his own face contorting. Dumbledore had absolutely no right to tell the boy that.
Absolutely no right. Especially when the old fool himself kept so many things, important
things. He had to blink twice to refocus and see Harry in front of him, not James. Because he
really, really wanted to spill all the secrets Dumbledore was keeping from the boy. But his
little vengeance would only hurt his daughter and he had promised Lily that he would never.
And yes, he had also sworn to protect the boy. “And did the headmaster tell you about the
circumstances in which your father saved my life?” He whispered instead. Because that was
allowed, after all, the circumstances were teaching in the school at the moment. “Or did he
consider the details too unpleasant for precious Potter’s delicate ears?” Of course,
Dumbledore hadn’t. Always careful with the information, Dumbledore was. “I would hate for
you to run away with a false idea of your father, Potter,” he said then, a terrible grin twisting
his face. “Have you been imagining some act of glorious heroism? Then let me correct you
then, your saintly father and his friends played a highly amusing joke on me that would have
resulted in my death if your father hadn’t got cold feet at the last moment. There was nothing
brave about what he did. He was saving his own skin as much as mine. Had their joke
succeeded, he would have been expelled from Hogwarts.”
He remembered that night, the utmost fear not only in his eyes but on James. He remembered
the yells and the slashes. There had been so much blood. He sealed all those memories away.
“Turn out your pockets, Potter!” He spat suddenly. Potter didn’t move. He seemed as
paralysed as Severus had been that night. “Turn out your pockets, or we go straight to the
headmaster! Pull them out, Potter!”
Potter slowly removed the bag of Zonko’s tricks and a piece of old parchment. He snatched
the Zonko’s bag first.
“Ron gave them to me,” the boy lied. “He— brought them back from Hogsmeade last time
—”
“Indeed? And you’ve been carrying them around ever since? How sentimental of you… And
what is this?”
“Spare bit of parchment,” Potter shrugged. He turned it over and narrowed his eyes. There
was an edge of protectiveness in Potter’s eyes.
“Surely you don’t need such a very old piece of parchment?” He asked. “Why don’t I just
throw this away?” He moved his hand toward the fire.
“No!” Potter panicked.
“Is this another treasured gift from Mr Weasley? Or is it something else? A letter, perhaps,
written in invisible ink? Or instructions to get into Hogsmeade without passing the
dementors?” Silence. “Let me see.” Severus took the piece of parchment to his desk and
waved his wand on top of it. Immediately he could feel a series of charms on it. “Reveal your
secret!” he said, touching the wand to the parchment. When nothing happened, he tried again.
“Show yourself!” Undeterred, he continued. “Professor Severus Snape, master of this school,
commands you to yield the information you conceal!”
Finally, something began to appear. It took five letters to Severus see red and decide that
Remus was still the biggest stone on his shoes. “Mr Moony presents his compliments to
Professor Snape and begs him to keep his abnormally large nose out of other people’s
business.” He gritted his teeth. Abnormally large nose? Look who was talking! But of course,
it didn’t stop there. “Mr Prongs agrees with Mr Moony, and would like to add that Professor
Snape is an ugly git.” Merlin had mercy on him. Not even death would keep James Potter’s
mouth shut. “Mr Padfoot would like to register his astonishment that an idiot like that ever
became a professor.” Of course, the star of the year wouldn’t be left behind. “Mr Wormtail
bids, Professor Snape good day, and advises him to wash his hair, the slime ball.”
It took him longer than he’d like to admit to finding his words. Fuming, he strode to his
fireplace and threw Floo Powder into it, “Lupin!” He barked into the fire. “I want a word!”
Had the man finally lost his goddamn mind? Had he given Potter the one and only method
that could place Sirius Black right in front of the boy in seconds? They didn’t have to wait,
Remus was soon clambering out of the fireplace, brushing ash off his shabby robes.
He was about to say something sarcastic and uncalled for when he saw Harry there. “You
called, Severus?” Remus asked instead.
“I certainly did,” He replied, trying to control the cold fury inside of him. He fetched the
thing from his desk and shoved it at him. “I have just asked Potter to empty his pockets. He
was carrying this.” Severus watched Remus read it, saw a myriad of emotions pass through
his face at the names Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs. “Well?” He asked.
Remus was still staring. Potter was looking between them curiously. Remus seemed to have
been doing very complicated math in his head.
“Well?” Severus asked again. “This parchment is plainly full of Dark Magic. This is
supposed to be your area of expertise, Lupin. Where do you imagine Potter got such a thing?”
He was sure to keep the sarcasm to a minimum and vaguely hoped that Potter could learn a
bit, certainly, someone who liked to break the rules so much should learn how to properly tell
a lie.
Remus looked up and Severus saw echoed in his expression seven years of pranks and
covering for his former friends. “Full of Dark Magic?” he repeated mildly, the same tone he’d
use on McGonagall when she tried to get him to confess to charming that cloud to follow
Severus everywhere and drenching him for an entire evening. “Do you really think so,
Severus? It looks to me as though it is merely a piece of parchment that insults anybody who
reads it. Childish, but surely not dangerous? I imagine Harry got it from a joke shop—” He
went on and if Severus wasn’t absolutely livid, he’d find it a brilliant performance.
“Indeed?” He asked. “You think a joke shop could supply him with such a thing? You don’t
think it more likely that he got it directly from the manufacturers?” He asked.
The left corner of Remus’ lip tilted minimally. “You mean, by Mr Wormtail or one of these
people?” he asked. “Harry, do you know any of these men?”
Bold Remus, very bold. Ask him what he remembers of his godfather, maybe the two of you
can reminisce, he thought.
“No,” Potter replied quickly.
“You see, Severus?” Remus asked, turning back to him. “It looks like a Zonko's product to
me—”
Weasley came bursting into the office then, out of breath and had to hold onto the desk to be
able to speak.
“I gave Harry that stuff,” the boy choked. “Bought it in Zonko’s ages ago.” The boy
wheezed.
“Well!” Remus exclaimed, far too happy, clapping his hands together. “That seems to clear
that up! Severus, I’ll take this back, shall I?” He folded the map and tucked it inside his robes
before Severus got another word. “Harry, Ron, come with me, I need a word about my
vampire essay. Excuse us, Severus.”
He let them leave because he knew Remus would return and would explain to him exactly
how that map had found Harry.
Severus sat down on his chair, leaning back and taking a deep breath. The Marauder’s Map.
As a teenager, he was obsessed with it, having tried many times to steal it from them. He
would never fall prey to their jokes ever again if he had it. And there it was again, with Harry
Potter of all people. Was it a coincidence that the map had found the boy now? When two of
four Marauders were back to the castle?
Remus returned not even twenty minutes later; the map still clutched on his hand. “So?”
Severus asked.
“I didn’t give him the map if that’s what you were thinking.” Remus began, “Filch
confiscated it years ago. But that’s not what concerns me the most. The question is, how does
he know how to operate it?” It was clearly a rhetorical question, so Severus didn’t bother
answering it.
Remus opened the map on the desk and Severus saw that it was still clear. “I solemnly swear
that I’m up to no good.” He said, pointing his wand to the centre of it. Finally, the ink began
to appear, and Severus heard a hard intake of air and Remus’ hands curling into fists beside
it.
Severus leaned in and saw hundreds of dots and names beside it, he quickly found his name
and Remus’ beside it inside his office. The headmaster was in his own office, Hermione was
in the library and her brother was in his common room. There were a few secret passages that
he confessed he hadn’t known about. Remus sighed and Severus watched as he hovered his
fingers over the map, almost reverentially. “I must confess, I didn’t think I was ever going to
see it again.” He muttered. “He’s not in here.”
“It only shows the castle, he still could be somewhere on the grounds.”
“Yes.” Remus agreed. “And I think he’s in his Animagus form, it’s easier to avoid the
Dementors like that, especially when he lets go of his human brain enough.”
“Does the map show an Animagus in their animal form?” Severus asked.
Remus’ reply took longer this time. “Yes,” he said finally, “sometimes.” Severus raised an
eyebrow at that. “We didn’t know then, but I think I know what happened all those times
Minerva caught us.” He said and there was a pathetic forlorn smile on his face. “We know
that an Animagus can still think like a human in their animal form, but it can also
communicate with normal animals. I believe that once the person lets go of their human
feelings and thoughts in their animal form, once they become more animal than a person, the
map can’t see them anymore.” Remus explained. “We had the map once and when we spotted
her, it didn’t show on the map, only after she had spotted us that her name appeared.”
“So, he might be here right now,” Severus concluded and Remus nodded sombrely.
“Mischief managed,” Remus said, pointing his wand again to the map. Severus watched
everything disappear and become an old parchment again. “I will keep an eye on it,” Remus
told him. “I don’t want Sirius to get to Harry or Hermione, Snape.” He added, “but I also
want an explanation.”
April turned out to be a tumultuous month for Hermione, she was spending long hours
working on Hagrid’s case and even longer ones working on her Patronus. At least the
Patronus was paying off, Theo had gotten it first, a beautiful silvery fox erupted from the tip
of his wand and jumped around the classroom, hers turned out to be an arctic wolf and
Hermione giggled as it ran after Theo's fox in the air and then circled around Lupin twice.
Their professor seemed as surprised as her. Harry’s hadn’t got a form yet, but they all knew it
would be something big just from the shape of it.
Hermione and Theo showed off their Patronuses to everyone that wanted to see them down in
their common room and Hermione enjoyed a little break from all the stress every time she
saw the silvery creature erupt from her wand. It was good, but soon everything came
crumbling down.
When the date of Hagrid’s hearing came and he wrote that it had been denied, Hermione felt
like crying. All her hard work had gone to waste. She decided then to write a letter to Draco's
father and beg Lucius to drop the charges, after all, it had been Draco’s stupid fault.
It took him no time at all to answer her, and his reply manage to enrage her every time she
remembered what he had written. We can’t have dangerous animals roaming around the
castle injuring the students. As if the entire Basilisk ordeal of last year hadn't been entirely
his fault. So, when she caught Draco with Vince and Greg being their stupid selves,
Hermione blamed Lucius’ reply for the slap.
On the next day, she’d blame Draco for having missed an entire day of classes for the second
time ever. She had been sleeping so little in the past weeks and using her time turner so much
that she had forgotten where she was supposed to be and ended falling asleep on top of all of
her work. Draco’s face was still red when he woke her up.
“Come on,” he had said. Vince and Greg had stayed well behind, she had thoroughly terrified
them with her slap. “I can just see that it wasn’t you you that slapped me.”
“I already said sorry, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did.” He had said and she saw his left cheek twitch. She reached for it and covered
the space where her hand had been, this time softly. Draco took a long breath.
“I think I’m losing my mind.” She had whispered to him.
“You are taking way too many classes. You are working too hard. This is insanity.”
Hermione hadn’t replied to that, because she had known he was right. And also, she felt like
she couldn’t argue with him for a good two weeks after what she had done. Draco had been
weirdly understanding of it all. Blaise and Theo had snickered for days, while Draco kept
staring at her strangely.
April came to an end with yet another explosion that truly marked that month as the worst of
her life, the entire castle kept whispering and throwing her weird looks when she passed.
Everyone knew of the spectacle that had taken place during Divination. Pansy had made sure
to narrate it repetitively to whoever asked. Hermione didn’t feel all bad about it, because
Trewlaney and Divinancy were rubbish, and she was sick of all the many long looks and oohs
and aahs from the woman every time she saw Hermione’s palm.
What on earth was having a stolen life supposed to mean? But it had been the Grim that
threw her off in the end, because for the umpteenth time she had seen it on Harry. Hermione
didn’t look back when she left, quite literally, kicking and screaming.
The only salvation was that Draco – she was still impressed and highly dubious of him – had
taken to study with her, she was down Divination, but she still had way too many subjects
and homework to complete. All the other boys had returned home for the Easter Holidays,
but Draco had stayed. Blaise and Theo had gone to stay with Blaise’s mom, the summer
wedding had already come to an end. Hermione thought that she might have really scared
Vince and Greg because they saw the pile of work she had and decided that they were
leaving. She found it extremely irresponsible of them.
But Draco had stayed.

They studied together most of the time and while trying to avoid the usual crowd at the
library or in their common room, and taking advantage of the boys’ absence, they took up to
studying in his dormitory. Twice she fell asleep on Draco’s bed.
May brought a bit of a relief and the Quidditch Cup final. Hermione felt it was her turn to
distract and help Draco. When they entered the week of the match, no one seemed to talk
about anything else. Hermione couldn’t believe that they’d all forgotten about their exams,
they were less than a month away!
On the day before the match, Draco had been incredibly nervous and rightly so, because
Harry’s new broom was faster than anything she had seen. That night, Draco tugged on her
sleeve, and she followed him up the stairs to his dormitory. “What’s wrong?” She asked.
“I don’t think I will catch the snitch tomorrow.” He confessed; his voice very small.
Hermione hated it. “Can't you tell McGonagall to inspect Potter’s broom again?” He asked
her, only half-joking.
“I think by now McGonagall would let Harry fly it even if it had been cursed.” She replied.
Draco nodded defeatedly. “What do you want me to do?” She asked.
He didn’t answer her at first, just went to his trunk and picked his pyjamas. Hermione burned
scarlet and turned away when he removed his shirt. She stayed with her eyes closed until she
stopped hearing the ruffle of clothes. She opened one first and found Draco offering her one
of his old sweaters and a pair of pants that clearly belonged to Blaise. “Stay with me?” he
asked, his voice so vulnerable that Hermione doubted she could ever say no.
She nodded and picked the clothes and went to the bathroom to change them. Draco was
already sitting on his bed when she returned. It wasn’t the first time they shared a bed. Their
summers were spent mostly with afternoon naps in Draco’s huge bed and just last month she
had fallen asleep in here twice. But it felt different somehow. This time was intentional. He
had called her to his dormitory because he had wanted her with him.
Their beds at Hogwarts weren’t small, but they also weren’t made for two people to sleep in
them, but they fit just fine. Draco hadn’t reached his full height and Hermione was still quite
short, so they squeezed beside each other, and Draco pulled the curtains around his bed,
hiding them from the rest of the world. “Distract me, Granger.”
Hermione thanked Salazar for the constant dimness of the dormitory with its lake-view
windows that Draco wouldn’t see her blush, because of course the first thing that came to her
mind when he said distraction was inappropriate. And that, she'd blame Pansy. She decided
to tell him about her adventures and close calls with Time-Turner.
It was a very nice night and for some reason, none of the boys said anything when they saw
her on Draco’s bed in the morning, not even a smirk or a raised eyebrow. She left before
Draco went to shower and found the girls at the Great Hall.
Slytherin lost. Hermione couldn’t find herself to be happy for Harry because Draco’s
desolation was tugging all the strings in her heart. Defeat was Draco’s worse look and
Hermione absolutely hated it.
With Quidditch done, there were only their exams left and chaos returned to Hermione’s life.
She had so much work and her friends were all begging for fifteen minutes of her time for
some last minute help with a spell or a potion. Hermione had cried during her Defence
Against the Dark Arts' exam and she felt pathetic for Professor Lupin having to soothe her.
She should have known that it would all be downhill from there. In a quick succession of
events that began with Harry seeing something after his Divination exam that was quite
ominous even for Hermione’s cynicism, that continued with Buckbeak’s horrendous
execution and peaked with another scruff between Scabbers and Crookshanks that resulted in
the Black Dog dragging Ron through his arm to the inside of the Whooping Willow.
Hermione was bleeding, one of the murderous branches had cut across her shoulder and
despite her pleading and her pain, Harry refused to go for help, deciding that they could
follow the dog inside. Hermione didn’t trust their odds.
They couldn’t take two steps without being thrown back another three, she felt tears pooling
in her eyes and her arm was throbbing, and she could only mutter help, help, help. Her eyes
widened as she saw Crookshanks darting through the branches, avoiding getting hit and
astonishingly, she saw her cat press its front paws against a knot at the trunk. The tree stilled
and not a branch or leaf moved.
“How?” She wondered out loud.
“Crookshanks is friends with that dog,” Harry told her as they wearily went forward. “I’ve
seen them together.”
Hermione nodded, because she too, had seen them together. At the very first time she saw the
dog.
It was ridiculous, but honestly, it wasn’t one of the most ridiculous plans they had so far, so
they followed Crookshanks along the tunnel, almost crawling with how low the ceiling it
was, not to mention all the moss, twice Hermione had to hold onto the wall to keep from
falling.
They lost Crookshanks as the tunnel began to rise, but they could see light from up ahead
from a very small opening. They peered inside and saw that it was a very dusty room, not to
mention the disorder. It looked like someone had smashed the entire house, peeled out the
wallpapers and trashed the furniture. She looked around, noticed the boarded windows and
gasped. “Harry,” she called, her voice thinner than she expected. She grabbed his hand.
“We’re in the Shrieking Shack.”
“This is not haunted,” Harry told her. She nodded. It looked like claws had run through the
stuffing of the armchairs and sofa.
Suddenly, they heard a creak from above them, and Hermione held harder onto Harry’s hand.
He motioned to the stairs, and she gulped but followed him. The stair creaked at each step
and Hermione knew there was no way the dog wouldn’t have heard it. When they reached the
landing, they saw that only one door was open. As they crept toward it, they heard a low
moan, and then something else, it sounded like an animal. They exchanged a last look, a last
nod. Hermione very slowly let go of Harry’s hand and gripped her wand tighter. Harry kicked
the door wide open.
The purring had been Crookshanks, who was laid on top of a huge four-poster bed. On the
floor next to the bed, was Ron, who was clutching his leg, which was stuck weirdly, clearly
broken. Honestly, even her cat had the manners of a Malfoy.
Harry dashed across to him. “Ron — are you okay?”
Hermione looked around, seeing paws on the dusty floor that turned into a man’s footsteps.
Hermione gulped. “Where’s the dog?” She asked.
“Not a dog,” Ron moaned, clearly in pain. “Harry, it’s a trap—” She had noticed that as well,
and had her back to both boys, her wand point shifting between the two openings in the
room.
“What—”
“He’s the dog, Harry. He’s an Animagus.” Ron said and Hermione froze, because behind the
door they had just come, was a shadow of a man and Hermione knew who it was before he
came into view.
Harry whirled and the man closed the door and stepped into view. If Hermione thought that
the house was filthy, the man in front of her was worse. He had a mass of filthy, matted hair
that hung to his elbows. There were dark sockets around his eyes but even then, Hermione
could recognise those black eyes. They were the same as Narcissa’s. Hermione was certain
that he had been beautiful in his youth, with long black hair and pale skin, but now it looked
waxy and was so stretched over the bones of his face, that it looked like a skull.
Frozen by the shock, their wands flew easily to his outstretched hand after his Expelliarmus.
Then he took a step closer. His eyes were fixed on Harry. Hermione moved closer still to
Harry.
“I thought you’d come and help your friend,” he said hoarsely. “Your father would have done
the same for me. Brave of you, not to run for a teacher. I’m grateful,” he said. “It will make
everything much easier.”
Hermione knew Harry quite well, so she knew what that comment would earn and was
prepared for when Harry darted forward, wrapping both arms around one of his and holding
him back. “No, Harry!”
“If you want to kill Harry, you’ll have to kill us too!” Ron said fiercely, standing up on his
broken leg and Hermione saw him swaying from the pain.
Black saw it too and spoke. “Lie down, you will damage that leg even more.”
Why was he worried about Ron’s leg? She wondered.
“Did you hear me?” Ron said weakly, “You’ll have to kill all three of us!”
Why hadn’t he killed them that day at Hogsmeade? She thought, remembering the day she
and Harry talked over Black and Harry’s parents and the dog – Sirius Black – had been right
there.
“There’ll be only one murder here tonight,” said Black with a grin.
“Why’s that?” Harry spat, trying to wrench himself free. “Didn’t care last time, did you?
Didn’t mind slaughtering all those Muggles to get at Pettigrew. What’s the matter, gone soft
in Azkaban?”
“Harry!” Hermione whimpered.
“HE KILLED MY MUM AND DAD!” Harry roared and with all his rage, he freed from
their grasp and lunged forward.
She screamed as they toppled down and Harry began throwing punches. Why isn’t Black
using his wand? A mass murderer, the first one to escape from Azkaban was wrestling on the
floor with a thirteen-year-old boy! Were men eternally fools?
Hermione saw Black’s hand curl around Harry’s throat, and she sprang into action, kicking
Black’s leg. They fell apart and at once everyone scrambled to their wands. Black had come
out wand-less.
“Going to kill me, Harry?” Black whispered and for the first time, Hermione noticed the tone
in his voice. It had gotten her attention since the moment Black first spoke and now, she
recognised: it was the soft, careful veiled hint of concern that Narcissa had, the posh drawl
out of vowels and the strong Ts, hiding true worry. Narcissa had used that tone with her more
than once.
There was something not right.
Harry had stopped right above him, his wand still pointing at Black’s chest. Both were
bruised and bleeding. Hermione too tasted iron in her mouth. “You killed my parents,” Harry
replied, his voice shaking slightly.
Black stared up at him out of those sunken eyes. Hermione saw them darting from Harry to
Hermione. “I don’t deny it,” he said very quietly. “But if you knew the whole story.”
“The whole story?” Harry repeated furiously. “You sold them to Voldemort. That’s all I need
to know.”
“You’ve got to listen to me,” Black said, and there was a note of urgency in his voice now.
“You’ll regret it if you don’t. You don’t understand.” Hermione wanted to listen to the whole
story.
“I understand a lot better than you think,” Harry replied, voice fully shaking now. “You never
heard her, did you? My mum, trying to stop Voldemort killing me and you did that … you did
it.”
Don’t let go of him, do you hear me? No matter what don’t let go of him.
Before anyone could say anything, Crookshanks leapt onto Sirius Black’s chest and finally,
belatedly, Hermione took note of the shape of her cat’s tail. She gasped. How could she have
missed it?
“Get off,” Black murmured, trying to push Crookshanks off him.
“He’s a kneazle,” Hermione said and everyone turned to her.
Ron gave out a panicked snort. “Honestly, Hermione right now is not the time for your
swottiness.”
“No.” She said. “He’s a kneazle. At least part-kneazle. They are really good judges of
character.” She said and something passed in Black’s expression, something that chilled
Hermione entire body, because it was pride.
“Figured it out, didn’t you?” Black asked and before Hermione could say anything else, or
Merlin forbid ask a question, they heard muffled footsteps were echoing up through the floor
from downstairs.
“WE’RE UP HERE!” Hermione screamed suddenly. “WE’RE UP HERE — SIRIUS

BLACK — QUICK!”
Black tried to move, but the door burst open in a shower of red sparks and Professor Lupin
came hurtling into the room. His wand ready. Hermione saw him checking the three of them
first, not looking at Sirius Black and then shouted “Expelliarmus!”
All their wands flew from their hands and Lupin caught them all deftly.
Finally, in what Hermione knew it had taken no time at all, but her mind had been going at
thrice the normal speed, she knew that Remus wasn’t entirely on their side.
“Where is he, Sirius?” Lupin asked. They were friends. Her mind supplied. They all had been
friends.
Sirius Black’s face was quite expressionless. He stared at Lupin without moving at all. Then,
very slowly, he raised his empty hand and pointed straight at Ron. She and Harry followed
his finger, finding Ron looking bewildered and something in his pocket was wriggling madly.
His rat.
Hermione let out a crazed laugh. It was possible, wasn’t it? Black was a dog. Lupin was a
wolf. What if the rat was a man?
The adults looked at her, Lupin still tense and Black almost grinning. There was a very tense
distance between them. She didn’t say the last part out loud, did she?
“But then,” Lupin muttered, staring at Black so intently that Hermione knew he was doing a
very long – 13 years-long calculation in his head. “Why hasn’t he shown himself before?” A
pause. “Unless—” They all saw understanding downing on him. “Unless he was the one-
unless you switched—without telling me?”
Very slowly, eyes never leaving their Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, Black
nodded.
“Professor,” Harry interrupted loudly, “what’s going on?”
They didn’t answer, instead, Lupin lowered his wand and without removing his gaze from
Black, walked the remaining steps towards the man, who was still on the floor, and helped
him up. In seconds, they had their arms around each other. They were squeezing each other
so fiercely, that Hermione learned one more thing that night.
“I TRUSTED YOU!” Harry screamed and Hermione, blindly, crazily, got herself in the
middle.
“Harry. Stop.” She said.
“Of course you’d side with murderers, liars and traitors!” He snapped rage all over his face.
“Listen to your sister Harry, from what I’ve seen so far, she’s the brightest one around here.”
Sirius Black said, so calmly, almost smirking, as if he had said a joke, not—
“Sister?” Harry gasped. Eyes wide and Merlin, so much betrayal in those green eyes of his.
Hermione was frozen. It couldn’t be. There was no way. She was a muggle-born. She knew
her parents, she saw her mother’s womb pictures, her baby pictures, it couldn’t—
“It amazes me that you don’t know,” Black said and turned to Lupin. “That you didn’t tell
her.”
“What?” Hermione asked Lupin.
“Hermione—”
“What is going on?” Ron asked.
Hermione spoke before any of them could. “The rat is Pettigrew.” She said and both
Gryffindors looked at her like she was crazy. “Your parents—” mine? “Switched at the last
minute, right?” She asked the adults. “You weren’t the Secret Keeper, it was Pettigrew. But
no one knew?”
Lupin was grinning now. “Merlin, you make me so goddamn proud.”
“That’s absurd!” Ron exclaimed.
“But how?” She asked. “A dog, a wolf and a rat. How?” Now she blurted it out loud.
“A wolf?” Harry asked, he looked floored like his entire world had been turned upside down.
And it had. Hers too, apparently, but she wouldn’t think of that now. Because Lupin knew.
Lupin knew who she was and that meant missing wasn’t the correct word.
“He’s a werewolf,” Hermione told him because she had promised him that she would never
lie or keep things from him again.
Ron made a strangled sound and tried to get up again, but fell due to his broken leg. Lupin
made to help him and Ron gasped, “Get away from me, werewolf!”
Lupin stopped dead. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. “Stop being daft Ron!” She
snapped. “He has been a werewolf the entire time! He’s not suddenly going to attack you!”
“And how are you all okay with this?” Harry asked. “How long have you known
everything?”
Hermione looked at him. Gone was the blind rage, he was still wary and rightly so, but his
mistrust wasn’t on Lupin or Black anymore. For once, he had seemed to listen to Hermione’s
word.
“Not everything.” She told him. “I’ve known he was a werewolf since Professor Snape gave
us that homework on Werewolves. When we got here and found out that him—” he pointed
at Black, “was the dog, I knew that something was missing. I’ve seen him around the castle
twice. We were alone with him that day, remember? We played fetch.” She said
exasperatedly. “If he had killed your parents and was after you like everyone said, why didn’t
he do it then? Crookshanks has been after Scabbers since day one and Crookshanks had been
hanging out with him. If he’s an Animagus, then it was possible that the rat was another.
Narcissa told me they never found Pettigrew’s body.”
Sirius Black snorted. “Remind me to thank my cousin for all the nice words.” He told her.
“That’s crazy!” Ron said.
“How did you know where we were?” Harry asked Lupin, “if you really weren’t working
with him?”
“The Marauder’s Map. I was in my office examining it—”
“You know how to work it?” Harry asked suspiciously.
“Of course, I know how to work it,” said Lupin impatiently. “I helped write it. I’m Moony —
that was my friends’ nickname for me at school.”
“You wrote—?” Harry seemed incapable of finishing his sentences or stringing more than
two words together. She wanted to ask so many questions.
“The important thing is, I was watching it carefully this evening because I had an idea that
you, Ron, and Hermione might try and sneak out of the castle to visit Hagrid before his
hippogriff was executed. And I was right, wasn’t I? I watched you cross the grounds and
enter Hagrid’s hut. Twenty minutes later, you left Hagrid and set off back towards the castle.
But you were now accompanied by somebody else.”
“What?” said Harry. “No, we weren’t!”

“I couldn’t believe my eyes,” continued Lupin, ignoring Harry’s interruption. “I thought the
map must be malfunctioning. How could he be with you?”
“No one was with us!”
“And then I saw another dot, moving fast toward you, labelled Sirius Black. I saw him
collide with you; I watched as he pulled two of you into the Whomping Willow—”
“One of us!” Ron said angrily.
“No, Ron,” said Lupin. “Two of you. I’m sorry but your pet is not really a rat.”
“I told you, this is absurd! Scabbers has been in my family for—”
“Thirteen years, right?” Black asked, wickedly. The rat in Ron’s pocket was wriggling even
more now. Ron removed it from his pocket, and they all saw it trashing desperately, trying to
escape.
Sirius Black’s eyes darkened impossibly at the sight of the rat.
“Peter Pettigrew’s dead!” Harry said. “You killed him twelve years ago!” He pointed at
Black.
“I meant to,” Black growled, “but little Peter got the better of me, not this time, though!”
Black lunged, Lupin went after him, pulling him off Ron and the rat.
“WAIT! You can’t do it just like that — they need to understand — we’ve got to explain —”
“We can explain afterwards!” snarled Black, trying to throw Lupin off him.
“No!” Hermione snapped. “That’s enough.” She said. “You owe Harry an explanation.” She
said, her voice wavering, because Merlin, she was owed an explanation, wasn’t she?
Lupin’s saddened expression told her that he understood. He walked over to Sirius Black, put
both hands on the man’s chest, both placatingly and sentimentally. “They’ve got a right to
know everything! Ron’s kept him as a pet! There are parts of it even I don’t understand! And
Harry, you owe Harry the truth, Sirius!” A quick glance at Hermione. “And I owe her the
truth.”
“All right, then,” Black said, without looking away from the rat. “Tell them whatever you
like. But make it quick, Remus. I want to commit the murder I was imprisoned for.”
Remus sighed. “What do you want to know first?” He asked Harry.
“There were witnesses who saw Pettigrew die,” Harry said instead. “A whole street full of
them.”
It was Black who answered that. “They didn’t see what they thought they saw!” Eyes still
watching Scabbers struggling in Ron’s hands.
“Everyone thought Sirius killed Peter,” Lupin continued, nodding to Harry. “I believed it
myself Harry until I saw the map tonight. I saw his name in there. Peter’s alive. Ron’s
holding him, Harry.”
Harry looked down at Ron, Hermione saw that Harry was having trouble believing. She
didn’t know Scabbers, barely saw the rat, but for Harry who had shared the dormitory with
Ron and seen it as his friends’ pet… Then she spoke, her voice trembling just a bit. “But how
could’ve no one known? We did Animagi in class with Professor McGonagall. And I looked
them up when I did my homework, the Ministry of Magic keeps tabs on witches and wizards
who can become animals; there’s a register showing what animal they become, and their
markings and things and I went and looked Professor McGonagall up on the register, and
there have been only seven Animagi this century, and Pettigrew’s name wasn’t on the list—”
“Mine wasn’t there either, was it?” Sirius asked.
Lupin laughed as if Hermione’s brain was hugely amusing to him. “Right again, Hermione.
But the Ministry never knew that there used to be three unregistered Animagi running around
Hogwarts.”
Somehow Lupin began telling his story and midst distrust, they all listened rapidly to how he
became a werewolf and how the Shrieking Shack came to be. It was chilling and it felt wrong
every time Lupin said your father and she caught Sirius looking at her too as if he meant her
father as well. Lupin was closing in on his story, explaining Professor Snape involvement –
she finally understood why the two seemed to dislike each other so much – when they heard
“That’s right,” from the wall behind Lupin. Professor Snape was pulling off the Invisibility
Cloak, his wand pointing directly at Lupin. “And here I thought I could trust you.”
“Severus—” Professor Lupin began, but Snape quickly interrupted him. They began arguing
and Hermione looked apprehensively at their wands, which were still pointed at one another.
Lupin was saying something and then Snape was using Incarcerous on him and Black
advanced on Snape with murder on his eyes, which was equally met in Professor Snape’s.
“Give me a reason,” Snape whispered, his wand pressed against the space between the man’s
eyes. “Give me a reason to do it, and I swear I will.” Black stopped dead.
“Professor—” Hermione began.
“Miss Granger, you are already facing suspension from this school,” Snape spat. “You,
Potter, and Weasley are out-of-bounds, in the company of a convicted murderer and a
werewolf. For once in your life, hold your tongue.”
“But—”
“Hermione, KEEP QUIET!” He shouted, “YOU HAVE NO IDEA OF WHAT’S GOING

ON!” Snape looked quite mad in her opinion. She knew it was because he assumed they were
in very grave danger. Which only made her sorrier for what she was about to do.
Snape was threatening to give Sirius Black and Professor Lupin to the dementors and then
Harry stood by the door, blocking the way. Before Snape could threaten Harry, she pulled her
wand. “Expelliarmus!”
She wasn’t the only one to cast it. Both Ron and Harry had also used the same spell and their
Potions Master was lifted off his feet and slammed into the wall, when he slid down to the
floor, she saw a trickle of blood coming from his head.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” Black said, looking at Harry. “You should have left him to
me.” Then he turned to Hermione. “You are quite brilliant. How did the most important thing
escape you?” He asked her.
She didn’t reply, because she still didn’t know whether she believed in them or not.
Harry’s sister.
She turned to the boy in question, who was now helping Remus out of his binding. Sirius was
helping too. It was quite a scene. Lupin turned to Ron at once. “Give me the rat, Ron.”
“Come off it,” Ron tried to argue, although weakly. “Are you trying to say he broke out of
Azkaban just to get his hands on Scabbers? I mean—” He looked up to her and Harry for
support. But Hermione was beyond convinced now. She’d say Harry as well. “Okay, say
Pettigrew could turn into a rat— there are millions of rats— how’s he supposed to know
which one he’s after if he was locked up in Azkaban?”
“You know, Sirius, that’s a fair question,” said Lupin, turning to Black and frowning slightly.
“How did you find out where he was?”
Black pulled a wrinkled piece of paper from his pocket – his robe was so tarnished that she
hadn’t noticed the pocket until now. It was the Daily Prophet picture of Ron and his family in
Egypt. “I’ve got it from Fudge when he came to inspect Azkaban last year. And there was
Peter, on the front page, on this boy’s shoulder. I recognised him at once. Remus, how many
times have we seen him transform? I saw that the boy went to Hogwarts and I knew Harry
was there—”
“He’s at Hogwarts,” Hermione muttered and Sirius turned to her, a raised eyebrow that
almost got her flinching. He reminded her of Draco. “Fudge said you kept muttering this on
your final days at Azkaban.”
“And how on Merlin’s name do you know that?”
“Fudge told Uncle Lucius and he told me?”
“Uncle Lucius?” He asked, but this question was to Remus, who looked quite lost for words.
“I will explain it to you later.” He said and took a close look at the picture. “My God,” he
said softly, staring from Scabbers to the picture in the paper and back again. “His front paw.”
“What about it?” Ron asked defiantly.
“He’s got a toe missing,” Sirius explained.

“Of course,” Lupin breathed. “So simple and yet so brilliant. He cut it off himself?”
“Just before he transformed,” Sirius nodded. “When I cornered him, he yelled for the whole
street to hear that I’d betrayed Lily and James. Then, before I could curse him, he blew apart
the street with the wand behind his back, killed everyone within twenty feet of himself and
sped down into the sewer with the other rats.”
“You know what they say, don’t you?” Remus asked Ron. “About the biggest part, they could
find off Peter’s?”
“His little finger,” Hermione replied. Ron was still in denial and began arguing in defence of
the rat one more time. Hermione was getting sick of it. She wanted to grab the rat herself and
force him to turn it back. Her annoyance got bigger when Harry began screaming at Black
again. “Stop!” She screamed because Sirius was talking about dead bodies and missing
toddlers and no one had yet explained why they thought it was her. “Harry, move on!” She
snapped. “Ron, give the rat to Professor Lupin!”
“Hermione—”
“NOW WEASLEY.”
Ron jumped and trusted the rat in Remus direction, Sirius was looking at her with a
mischievous grin and she refused to make eye contact. Remus grabbed the rat’s tail and
looked at Sirius, “Ready?”
“Together?” Sirius asked, quietly and the pair held eye contact for longer than it seemed
necessary. Hermione was certain that a very long conversation would happen after this.
Whatever this was.
“Yeah,” Remus replied.
It was a spell with a blue-white jet, that froze Scabbers in midair, then the rat resumed his
twisting and wiggling and finally got out. They hit him again with the spell and it should be
impossible, Hermione was certain that her brain couldn’t quite process what she was seeing.
A head was shooting upward from the ground; limbs were sprouting; in a blink, a man was
standing where Scabbers had been. Crookshanks was spitting and snarling on the bed; the
hair on his back was standing up. He too looked at the man with disgust.
He was a very short man, plump and with a large bald patch on his head. He looked around at
them all, clearly terrified of meeting his former friends again.
“Well, hello, Peter,” Professor Lupin said pleasantly, as though it was a normal occurrence.
“Long time, no see.”
Pettigrew’s voice was squeaky. It was exactly what she imagined that a rat would sound like.
She caught him looking between his old friends and the door. “My friends, my old friends.”
Sirius made to advance, but Remus caught him around the wrist, stopping him with a single
warning look.
Hermione heard the three talks, the accusations thrown between them, years of questions and
betrayal. She wondered how Remus managed, living twelve years with lies, while these two
had the truth all along.
“You haven’t been hiding from me for twelve years,” Sirius was saying. “You’ve been hiding
from Voldemort’s old supporters. I heard things in Azkaban, Peter—” Hermione remembered
her accusation on Uncle Lucius, that a death eater would know. He did know, after all, he had
known that Sirius wasn’t a death eater, if what Sirius Black was saying was true, the Death
Eaters at Azkaban all wanted a piece of Peter Pettigrew.
They resumed their accusations, Peter trying to appeal to Remus, but the man wasn’t having
it. He had known and decided who to trust the moment he saw both names on the map.
Hermione had so many questions still. She doubted that Snape would remain unconscious
much longer. “Professor Lupin?” She asked. “Can I say something?”
“Of course, Hermione.”
“Pettigrew has been sleeping in Harry’s dormitory for years now, how come he has never
tried to hurt Harry?”
“There!” Pettigrew exclaimed shrilly. “Thank you! You see, Remus? I have never hurt a hair
of Harry’s head! Why should I?”
Black snorted. “Because not once in your life you’ve done something when it didn’t have
anything in it for you. Voldemort has been gone for years now, even his most loyal servants
aren’t doing anything, why would you?”
Before Pettigrew could say anything else, Hermione turned to Sirius. “Mr Black, how did
you manage to escape from Azkaban?” She asked. He looked at her weirdly and she
wondered what she could have said wrong.
“I don’t know how I did it, I think the only reason why I never lost my mind is that I knew I
was innocent. That wasn’t a happy thought, so the dementors couldn’t suck it out of me, but it
kept me sane and aware of who I was. Our emotions aren’t the same in our Animagus form
and whenever it was too hard, I turned into the dog, hiding from my feelings. Dementors
can’t see, you know, so they couldn’t have known, maybe they thought I was getting crazy,
like the rest of the prisoners and didn’t bother. But I was weak, very weak, and I had no hope
of driving them away from me without a wand. When I saw the picture, I realised what it
meant. That he was at Hogwarts with Harry—I had no idea about you. You were already
gone when I got there. That almost drove me insane, not knowing whether you had lived or
died.” He said, and when Hermione couldn’t say anything about that, he continued. “But
anyway, I knew what Peter was doing at once: keeping in close with the wizards, close with
Harry, just waiting for the first hint that Voldemort would return.” Pettigrew began shrieking
at that, but they all ignored it. “After, it was as if someone had lit a fire in my head, and the
dementors couldn’t destroy it. It wasn’t a happy feeling, it was an obsession, but it gave me
strength, it cleared my mind. So, one night when they opened my door to bring food, I
slipped past them as a dog. I was thin, very thin, thin enough to slip through the bars. I swam
as a dog back to the mainland. I journeyed north and slipped into the Hogwarts grounds as a
dog. I’ve been living in the forest ever since, except when I came to watch the Quidditch, of
course. You fly as well as your father did, Harry.” He told them, a bit of emotion in his voice.
Hermione smiled. Now it made sense why he’d played fetch with them, why he’d lie down
next to them while they talked. Why he had run after hearing Harry’s outburst. “Believe me,”
He croaked. “Believe me, Harry. I never betrayed James and Lily. I would have died before I
betrayed them.”
That did it. Harry nodded and Hermione reached for his hand. He looked at their joined hands
and something deep and huge settled in his eyes when he looked at her. He seemed to have
finally believed the other part too. Hermione turned once more to Sirius, to ask the final
question. For her, the most important one. “How did you know who I was?”
Remus swallowed and took a step closer to her, also ready to answer that.
Sirius Black spoke first. “I didn’t at first. Not until I heard you and the brown-haired boy
talking. You said you recognised me. You talked about riding on the back of a huge black
dog. We did that. We used to do that a lot. Lily would throw a fit because we always knocked
the vase McGonagall gave her as a wedding gift. And then I kind of began following you
around, heard bits and pieces of your conversations. There’s so much of Lily in you, one just
have to know where to look.” He told her. Hermione nodded, too stunned to say anything
else. Sirius turned to Remus then, “why didn’t you tell her? There is no way you couldn’t
know. All these years—”
“What?” Hermione asked.
“Hermione,” Remus began, looking lost and apologetic. “Lily chose me to be your
godfather.” He told her. “They always wanted a girl and a boy. James had vowed to give the
boy to Sirius, so Lily said I’d have the girl.”
“My godfather.” She repeated dumbly. “So, you’ve always known?”
Remus nodded.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
His expression twisted. Pain? Discomfort? Regret? “You looked happy with your family.” He
told her. “I had nothing to offer you. The truth was terrible. I am a werewolf, I’m not myself
one night of the month and almost an invalid for two afterwards. I couldn’t take care of you,
not to mention that no one hires a werewolf, so I barely could provide for myself, much less
you.”
“And this year?” She asked. “Why didn’t you say anything this year? The visions from the
dementors, I see Lily’s death, don’t I?” Remus nodded.
“Because I don’t have all your answers.” He told her. Remus was about to say more, but
Pettigrew, seeing that he had lost all the small belief he had, began grovelling at their feet.
Sirius began screaming again, he and Pettigrew were arguing, Hermione’s head was already
pounding from the Whomping Willow and then again from the scuffle with Sirius and Harry,
it didn’t help that words like ‘you were his spy’, ‘I would rather die than betray James and
Lily’ and ‘James would have done it for you were being thrown. She cornered in a wall and
screamed when Remus pointed his wand at Peter. Harry yelled, “NO!”
When they finally left the shack, in what felt like the longest hours of Hermione’s life, she
felt like she could breathe again. She was bringing up the rear with Harry, and together they
walked side by side.
“Harry,” she called, voice quiet. So many discoveries had happened in that room, she didn’t
know which one to address first.
He turned to her and seemed to understand at once. Harry grabbed her hand this time and
squeezed. “I found you.” He told her and she felt her own eyes filling up with tears.
No matter what, don’t let go of him. It finally made sense, the fierce protectiveness she felt of
him, and why she didn’t seem to be able to stay out of his orbit. “I know this might seem
confusing and weird, but—”
“No,” Harry shook his head. “It’s the best thing that happened tonight.”
Sirius, who was just in front of them, heard and turned to Harry. “You know what this
means?” He asked. “Turning Pettigrew in?”
Harry nodded. “You’re free.”
“I’ll understand, of course, if you want to stay with your aunt and uncle,” he said and for
Harry’s muffled gasp, she knew he understood where Sirius was going. “But once my name’s
cleared if you wanted a different home—”
“What — live with you?” He asked and Hermione smiled at the desperate tone in his voice,
the hope when he finished. “Leave the Dursleys?”
“Of course, I thought you wouldn’t want to,” said Black quickly, Hermione rolled her eyes. “I
understand, I just thought I’d—”
“Are you insane?” Harry blurted, his voice just as croaked as Sirius, there were too many
emotions swimming around them. “Of course, I want to leave the Dursleys! Have you got a
house? When can I move in? Can I bring Hermione?”
She snorted, Sirius was grinning, and Harry looked happy. Finally. She thought, this is what
he deserves.
They were almost out of the tunnel by then and when they got halfway through the grounds, a
cloud shifted above them, and they were suddenly washed by moonlight. Hermione froze at
the same moment Remus and Sirius did.
Oh my god.
Remus had gone rigid and then his limbs began to shake.
“He didn’t take his potion tonight, did he? He’s not safe!”
“Run,” Sirius whispered. “Run to the castle, now.” But they couldn’t run, Ron was still
chained to Pettigrew and Remus, Hermione knew Harry would never leave Ron behind.
“Leave it to me — RUN!”
Hermione watched transfixed as Remus transformed, she saw his head lengthening, so was
his body. His shoulders became hunched, and hair was sprouting on his face and hands.
Hands that now were clawed paws.
At last, the werewolf was upon them. Sirius transformed too, becoming the large black dog
they all were familiar with by now. The dog jumped on the wolf, pulling him away from Ron
and Pettigrew.
Seizing the distraction, Pettigrew grabbed the fallen wand and fired at Ron, throwing him
unconscious, before either she or Harry could do anything, he had transformed too and like a
rat, scurried away.
“We need to get to the castle.” Harry told her, “Get help.” She nodded, but Ron still had the
manacles around him and was out cold, they had to drag him up to the castle.
But then, as soon as they started pulling Ron’s body, they heard a yelping, a whining: it was a
dog in pain.
“Sirius,” Harry muttered, and Hermione knew Harry wanted to go after him. It was his
godfather after all. Well, Hermione’s godfather apparently was the one doing the damage, but
she wouldn’t start throwing blame now.
Harry set off at a run, Hermione right behind him. They followed the sound to the edge of the
lake, cold almost freezing their bones as they got nearer Sirius' now human again, hunched
form.
And then they saw them. Dementors, at least a hundred of them, just as many as they had
seen during the Quidditch match. They were a gliding mass, encircling Sirius, sucking the
life from him. “Hermione, think of something happy!” Harry told her.
She tried. She thought of Harry, of his smile just at the tunnel, they were siblings. But that
meant her parents weren’t really her parents and—No. Focus. Draco. She thought of Draco
and his lazy smile, the subtle touches, the shy invites and the way they fell asleep curled.
“Expecto Patronum!”
It wasn’t enough, Lily’s screams were louder this time, she could hear everything, her mom’s
terrified sobs, the promises she made a two-year-old keep. There were a pair of mean eyes
and Hermione saw herself throwing her weight over Harry’s, crushing the smaller child in a
fierce hug. ‘No’ her toddler self had said, the fear inside her small bones, but little hands
strong around Harry.
She collapsed.
Chapter End Notes
The truth is out!! At least half of it! I hope you enjoy it and as we get to the end of the
third year, things are going to stray a bit more from canon.
There's a particular line mentioning a cloud following Snape as a joke from the
Marauders that I took the idea from ATYD by MsKingBean89, as I see that work as
marauders' canon.
The title and quote at the beginning belong to O Children by Nick Cave
Please let me know in the comments what you think! I'm excited to read your thoughts
as the world caves in
Chapter Notes
Hello!!
First of all, I'd like to thank everyone that took the time to reach out to the person that
had stolen this work and ask her to take it down. it's finally gone. thank you!
Now, the feedback from the previous chapter has been overwhelming and I really
appreciate it! I can't believe this fic has reached 30k hits. Thank you all for reading and
enjoying it, as well as being really lovely in the comments.
And set our grief aside

The papers say it's doomsday
The button has been pressed
We're gonna nuke each other up boys
'Til old Satan stands impressed
Chapter Twenty Two
Severus knew that something had gone terribly wrong the moment he came to his senses and
found that he was alone. Only the Weasley boy remained behind, unconscious too and his leg
twisted at a terrible angle. No sight of the rest of them. He hastily got to his feet, vowing to
kill the last three remaining marauders and pack his daughter first thing tomorrow to
Beauxbatons. She must know by now; Black wouldn’t have wasted a second before telling
her. But Remus, how exactly did Remus play out? He had been overthrown by rage and
hatred and revenge when he saw all their names together on the map. Crazed by the thought
of something happening to his daughter.
Conjuring a stretcher, he put the sleeping boy on it and rushed towards the bank of the lake,
where he saw the unconscious bodies of his daughter, Potter and Black. Quickly, he did the
same to them, knowing that the moon was still out, and Remus was somewhere on the
grounds.
When he brought them to the Hospital Wing and managed to throw at Fudge his own version
of the story, he thought it was it. He thought Black would receive the kiss and he wouldn’t
have to worry about him ever again. He wouldn't have to get himself rid of Remus after all.
Certainly, the man was mortified about his mishap with the potion and would realise he was
indeed dangerous to be around Hermione. He had everything under control. Except, of
course, that his daughter and her brother never actually did what they were supposed to do.
When he and Macnair went to fetch Black from Flitwick’s office, Sirius Black wasn’t there
anymore.
He let out a roar of fury, while Macnair trashed a few chairs in Flitwick’s office. Fudge and
Dumbledore appeared. “What happened?” Fudge asked.
“Black is gone.”
“What do you mean, Black is gone?”
“Exactly!” Severus barked. At once, he set off towards the Hospital Wing. He just knew, he
knew that Potter had something to do with it.
“He must have Disapparated, Severus. We should have left somebody in the room with him.
When this gets out—”
“HE DIDN’T DISAPPARATE!” Snape roared, almost at the hospital wing now. “YOU
CAN’T APPARATE OR DISAPPARATE INSIDE THIS CASTLE! THIS — HAS —
SOMETHING — TO — DO — WITH — POTTER!”
“Severus, be reasonable, Harry has been locked up—” Dumbledore said, and Severus noticed
the old man looked too calm with the news.
He didn’t hear the rest of it. He threw open the door of the Hospital Wing, ignored the
outraged look on Madam Pomfrey’s face, he went after the boy. “OUT WITH IT, POTTER!”
He bellowed. “WHAT DID YOU DO?”
“Professor Snape!” Madam Pomfrey shrieked. “Control yourself!”
“See here, Snape, be reasonable,” Fudge tried. “This door’s been locked, we just saw—”
“THEY HELPED HIM ESCAPE, I KNOW IT!” Snape howled, pointing at Harry and
Hermione. His face was twisted; spit was flying from his mouth. His daughter stared at him
with wide eyes. He wouldn’t dwell on it now, how terrified she looked. How terrified of him.
He knew they had helped him escape; he just did. The guilty faces and the flashes in their
minds was enough proof.
“Calm down, man!” Fudge barked. “You’re talking nonsense!”
“YOU DON’T KNOW POTTER!” He, honestly to Merlin, shrieked. “HE DID IT, I KNOW
HE DID IT—” Was that a Time-Turner in Hermione’s mind?
“That will do, Severus,” Dumbledore said quietly. “Think about what you are saying. This
door has been locked since I left the ward ten minutes ago. Madam Pomfrey, have these
students left their beds?”
“Of course not!” said Madam Pomfrey, bristling. “I would have heard them!”
“Well, there you have it, Severus,” Dumbledore continued. “Unless you are suggesting that
Harry and Hermione are able to be in two places at once, I’m afraid I don’t see any point in
troubling them further.”
Severus had to forcefully relax his fingers to not hex the headmaster right here and then. Of
course, he knew. Two places at once. The sheer audacity of the old fool.
Snape stood there, seething, staring from Fudge to Dumbledore – who looked quite pleased
with himself. “Hermione,” he barked. “Come with me.”
“Professor—” She began.
“She’s under observation, I can’t—” Madam Pomfrey began.
“She’s my student. I’m certain that she’s quite fine, judging by her latest adventure.” He said
eyes fixed on Hermione’s. He saw her gulping.
With a nod, she got up from the bed and he saw the fresh dirt on her clothes and shoes.
Merlin, this girl.
“It’s all right.” She said and quickly followed him as he strode out of the hospital wing.
Severus only spoke when they crossed the door to his office and threw a silencing charm
after closing it behind him.
“Who gave you that Time-Turner?” He asked. Hermione shifted from foot to foot. “Nothing
has ever kept you from answering a question, let’s not start now.”
“McGonagall.” She told him. “At the beginning of the term. I couldn’t decide on which
electives to take, she gave me one so I could attend all of my classes.”
Severus had been so stretched thin this evening that he couldn’t be blamed for letting a tired,
demoralised sigh out. He had come almost completely unhinged in the past few hours and
this, yet another thing, dangerous thing that his daughter had all year long.
“Did you and Potter use it to free Black right now?” He asked. She remained silent.
“Hermione. I don’t appreciate being made a fool of. I am willing to let go of the fact that you
knocked me out tonight and—”
“He’s innocent!” She told him; her voice desperate. “You weren’t willing to listen. Sirius
wasn’t the Secret Keeper. He and Pettigrew changed at the last minute. No one knew. Sirius
was never after Harry, he only wanted Ron’s rat. Pettigrew had been Scabbers all along.”
Severus could admit that it made more sense, to have Pettigrew being the one to betray Lily
and James out of the other Marauders. But still, the hatred was too strong.
“Why is it so unthinkable for you to let the law do its job?” He asked her. “I’ve lost count of
the times you decided to deal with it on your own hands.”
“Because the law has never worked in favour for those who need it.” She replied promptly.
“Buckbeak was going to be executed because of Uncle Lucius’ influence. No one gave Sirius
a trial back then and no one would give him one now.”
“You saved Buckbeak as well?” He asked, and with another sigh, shook his head. He should
have known.
“Yeah… I didn’t think of it at first, it was Dumbledore who gave me the idea when he told
me how many times I should turn it.” Dumbledore was behind it, of course. Hermione has
had a time-turner for an entire year and no one seemed to think it was important to let him
know. Her Head of House. Not enough, the headmaster told a fourteen-year-old to save a
convicted murderer and a creature from their imminent death.
“Where are they now?”
“I don’t know.” She told him. “We gave Buckbeak to Sirius. He could be anywhere by now.”
She stopped, he could see that she was wondering whether to say what was on her mind or
not. In the end, she decided to speak. After all, she clearly didn’t know when to keep quiet.
“Remus wasn’t working with Sirius either. He only believed Sirius when we saw Pettigrew
alive. Please don’t out him.” There was a change in her tone, she was pleading with him.
She seemed desperate to keep him around. “He told you.” He said. Severus knew his
daughter quite well by now. Hermione was afflicted with the possibility of losing all her
answers.
She nodded. “You knew too?”
“Yes.” He told her because this he could. Because this, he would give to her himself.
“Dumbledore had his suspicions since the first year. He has kept an eye on you. Your…
closeness with Harry was fascinating to him. When we heard that Black had escaped, he
hired Remus, so we could learn the truth for once and for all because I'm sure you already
know, Remus is your godfather.”
“But why didn’t he ask Remus earlier? If Dumbledore suspected it all along?”
That was a very good question indeed. One, that he still hadn’t had the time to ponder over. “I
can’t say that I understand the workings of the Headmaster’s mind. I’m sure he had his
reasons.”
“I have so many questions.”
“I have no doubt.”
“Remus said that he didn’t come looking for me earlier because he didn’t have all the
answers. But this entire year--" her voice broke, her mind was a mess of thoughts and
memories as she tried to decide which ones were true and which ones were false. "Every
teacher here knew, but no one told us. Why?" She asked. “It was Harry's right to know as
much as it was mine.”
“Again Hermione, I can’t tell you what lies behind Albus Dumbledore’s decisions. You can
ask him those things.” Merlin knew Severus wanted those answers as well. “Now let me take
you to your common room, lest I let you go alone, and you make a detour to save yet another
soul from death.”
Again, they walked in silence. Half of it was out now. Should he have told her the rest? He
didn't know how to. He had spent so much time and effort trying doing everything in his
power to keep her safe, to make sure his daughter was raised with love and attention, that
now he didn't know how to step out of the shadows of her life.
She crossed the passage to her common room alone, Professor Snape turned the moment the
wall opened in the middle. It was way over past curfew, and she thought she’d find the
Common Room empty, but was surprised to see Theo, of all people, still in one of the
armchairs, reading a book.
The book. His very first Christmas gift to her had been a book, the book in his hands now.
“You knew.” She gasped.
“What?” Theo looked up, surprised to see her. He probably didn’t think anyone would still be
out.
“You knew who I was.” She said. At once Hermione knew she was right because in Theo’s
expression there was only surprise and not confusion.
He closed the book on his lap and nodded. “I had my suspicions.” He said.
“You gave me this for Christmas in the first year.” She pointed at the book in his hands. She
wouldn’t waste time asking how and when he got it from her things. “You told me your father
would kill her if he knew she was alive just like he’d kill me.” Hermione spat, remembering
his words from three years ago. Now, it felt like a long time ago.
Another life.
“I told you. I had my suspicions.” He repeated.
“And you didn’t think about saying anything?” She marched towards him and stopped in
front of him, crossing her arms on her chest.
“Of course,” He rolled his eyes, “Why didn’t I just come up and say hi Hermione I think you
are Potter’s missing sister, with not a single proof, whatsoever.”
“How? How did you know? Back then.” She was being rude and she knew it. But she was
just so tired. Not only from the lies but also from the fact that this day was reaching 30 hours.
Remus didn’t give her all the answers she needed and Professor Snape couldn’t. Theo in front
of her would have to deal with her rage.
“We talked about birthdays after our first Halloween together.” He began and Hermione
vaguely remembered that conversation. "You have her birthday. You are older than all of us.
Ten months older than Potter. You were the muggle-born in Slytherin.” He finished it with a
shrug.
Hermione let out a strangled laugh, it sounded a bit crazed. “By my age? You had your
suspicions because I’m older? That’s it?”
Theo got uncomfortable then, losing his cool and looking away from her. “You are brilliant
Hermione, absolutely brilliant.” He said, cool eyes now back to her. “You read the book,” he
motioned to the book he was reading, "people believe either The Missing Sister or Harry, or
even both of them, had to be extraordinary to have defeated him. Everything you did since
day one was perfect and yeah, you study like no one else, but not everything is History of
Magic, where you only have to read the books. Everything else is magic, it’s power and
Hermione, you have it in abundance.”
She sat down on the armchair next to his, her legs suddenly jelly. Since she left the hospital
wing with Snape, her head had been a million per hour and it didn’t help that Professor
Snape’s hidden comments were trying to eat her alive. Dumbledore knew more and hadn’t
said anything. Why? Hermione wished she had forced a few more answers from Snape, but
she knew she was walking a thin line with him. She had hexed him back at the Shack.
“That's why you were always staring.”
Theo grinned, “maybe I was harbouring a crush on you.”
“Merlin, shut up.” She said.
He nodded, back to being serious. “There was something about you that I couldn’t quite
place. I admit, at first I was curious because I didn’t understand how a muggle-born could be
placed in Slytherin. And then there were the Malfoys, Lucius hates muggle-borns and
muggles as much as my father does, Hermione, you shouldn’t have been allowed in the
Manor if you were muggle-born.” He told her. “Narcissa—” he stopped and considered, he
sighed in the end. “She told me she saw me looking at Blaise and asked if I wanted help
hiding it. You know by now what a lovely man my father is, you can only imagine how he
sees gay people.” He said sarcastically, “but I noticed her looking for you in my mind,
looking for what I knew. I think she was trying to protect you from him as well.”
The Malfoys’ behaviour made a lot more sense now. If they had known all along, that’s why
Lucius had never made a single comment about her. She wasn’t a muggle-born.
“What am I going to do, Theo?” She cried, both hands on her lap and head bowed.
“It’s true, then?” He asked, voice quiet, “Are you his sister?” Hermione nodded, “I’m sorry.”
He said. “I can’t imagine how you must be feeling.”
“I—” She shook her head, her throat closing, and Hermione knew that if she opened her
mouth, a sob would come out. She tried again, “A lot of things happened tonight.” She said.
“I met Sirius Black.”
Theo gasped and he left his chair to kneel in front of her, he held both her hands in his, “Are
you okay?”
“Yeah.” She nodded, a few tears escaping her eyes, “he’s not who we thought he was. He’s
innocent. He didn’t kill all those muggles; it was Peter Pettigrew. Pettigrew has been alive all
these years, he’s an Animagus, he had been living as Ron’s rat for the past thirteen years.”
She told him.
“Really? That’s—” He shook his head. “He spent thirteen years in Azkaban, and he was
innocent?”
“Yeah. He looks terrible, he’s sickly thin and the reason he escaped was that he saw the
picture of the Weasleys in Egypt and saw the rat on Ron’s shoulder. He recognised him and
wanted to catch him. He wasn’t after Harry, I mean, he was, but not like we thought. Black is
Harry’s godfather and—” she stopped, “Professor Lupin is mine.”
“What?”
“Yeah, they were all best friends. Professor Lupin, Sirius, Pettigrew and Harry’s dad—my
dad?” Hermione sighed; Theo squeezed her hand. “Sirius asked Remus why he hadn’t told
me since there was no way he couldn’t have known.”
Theo nodded. “Being someone’s godparent is bonding magic. He’d have known you were
alive all this time and he’d known as soon as he saw you.” She nodded, they had read that
information together a few months ago.
“He told me he did. That he knew. But because I had no idea, he didn’t know how to tell me.”
“And then Sirius Black told you anyway.”
“Yeah.” Hermione let out another tired sigh. "Theo, I don’t know what to do.”
“We will figure it out.” He told her, “You and Potter are already great friends, it’s not that
much different being siblings. I’d know, I have Daph.” He said with a small smile.
“It doesn’t make sense, Theo. Since the news, I keep thinking about my parents, my muggle
parents and they don’t know. They have no idea. I’m not adopted, Theo. There are pictures of
my mom pregnant, there are pictures of a newborn in her arms and when The Missing Sister
disappeared, she was—I was two. There are dozens of pictures of a girl younger than that in
my house. Who is she? If she’s not me? And where is she, Theo? Where’s the girl my mom
carried? I have so many questions, Theo, so many.” She cried.
He climbed on the armchair with her, squeezing himself and almost pulling her to his lap, he
let her cry on his shoulder “Shh, we will figure it out. I promise you; I’ve got you, okay?
Blaise, Pansy, Daph, Draco and I, we all got you.”
“You know what that means, don’t you?” She asked after a while. “I wasn’t lost Theo, nor
missing. Someone took me that night and put me with my mom and dad. If I had been
adopted, if my parents had found me somewhere, it would make more sense, but no.
Someone exchanged babies. I was two Theo, tell me, which father or mother wouldn’t notice
if their two-year-old got replaced? There’s magic involved, that’s the only explanation. There
is someone out there who knew where I was and who I was all this time. Why me? Why did
they leave Harry behind?”
“I don’t know Hermione.” He said and dried her tears with his thumb. “I’m so sorry
Hermione, I’m sorry this is happening to you. I really am Hermione.”
“It’s not your fault Theo. Thank you.” She said and rested her head on his shoulder, he didn’t
complain, hugging her instead. Hermione was really glad for Theo and for how their
relationship changed after the Chamber of Secrets.
They stayed quiet for a while, Theo probably knew she had to run her mind before finally
settling it. She had to corner Remus and ask him more questions. She had to re-read Theo’s
book to see if she had missed something. She had to talk to Harry alone and see what that
meant for both of them. She had to—
“Let's go to bed. We can talk it over with the others tomorrow.” He said, stopping her running
thoughts. She nodded and they got to their feet. Theo picked the discarded book and together
they went towards the dormitories. “Do you want to—”
“Yes.” She said. Hermione didn’t want to sleep alone tonight. Pansy was an extremely light
sleeper and no doubt would wake up with the sound of Hermione entering. She didn’t want
her friend to see her now when it was clear that she had been crying.
The way to the boy’s dormitory was almost second nature to her by now and she couldn’t
help but look at Draco’s four-poster in the corner. He was the only one who slept with his
drapes closed.
Theo brought her to the edge of his bed and even in the low light, she could see that he was
feeling a bit awkward. Hermione too, for all that she had shared a bed with Draco, she had
never done the same with Theo.
“Er—I don’t think I thought this one through,” He whispered and Hermione felt her own
cheeks reddening.
“You've done enough tonight. Let’s not have an awkward night.” She told him in the same
low voice. And going on her tiptoes, she kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”
“Hermione—”
“I will go over there.” She motioned Draco’s bed with her head.
Theo nodded. “It's going to be all right Hermione.”
She gave him a small smile and tried to believe him at least for tonight. Hermione padded
towards Draco’s four-poster and carefully pulled one of the drapes.
“What happened?” Hermione heard Blaise asking.
“She will tell all of us tomorrow,” Theo replied.

“Is she okay?”
“She will be. She has us.”
Hermione smiled to herself and nodded to the darkness, yes, she had them. Muggle-born or
not, she had made these friendships and they were the most real thing to her.
She sat down on the bed next to Draco and quietly called his name. He only muttered in his
sleep. She touched his arm and called him again.
Draco turned and blinked a couple of times before fully waking up. “What are you doing
here?” He asked her and it didn’t escape her that he was already making up space for her.
“Something happened. Can I sleep here with you tonight?” She asked him. “I will tell you all
about it tomorrow.”
Draco nodded and pulled the covers so she could get into bed with him. “Thank you.” She
said after settling in. His back was to her and she curled her body behind him. She watched
the rise and fall of his back until she fell asleep.
Morning came in what felt like a blink. Sometime during the night she had pressed her
forehead against his nape and had her knees up against his back. Draco was too quiet to be
sleeping still, so she moved back to allow him to turn around. “Good morning,” she
whispered when he did just that.
“Morning,” he said and she didn’t let their closeness distract her. Hermione knew he slept
with his wand under his pillow and reached for it. She handed it to him.
“Can you put a silencing charm around us?”
“Yeah.” He nodded, “Muffiato!”
Their eyes met and she let herself gather strength from the grey in his eyes and the concerned
tilt of his perfectly done eyebrows.
“I'm Harry’s missing sister.” She told him. They were quite close and Hermione was still
looking, so she got to see the exact movement of his eyes. The pupils got bigger, shrinking
the grey around them.
It was easier this time, telling everything to Draco. Last night she was still trembling from the
happenings of the Shack. Now, properly rested and feeling safe, cocooned in Draco’s bed, the
truths of her life came easier. He listened to everything in silence, only moving when emotion
finally got the better of her. Draco pulled her to his chest and she let a few tears slide on his
pyjamas shirt.
“We will figure it out.” He told her. “Together."

He waited for her to dry her tears and for her nod before pulling the drapes open. The sight
on the other side had her with a wave of fresh tears. The rest of her year was squeezed in the
boy’s dormitory. They all looked at her apprehensively and she searched for Theo, this was
clearly his idea.
She found him leaning against the frame of Blaise’s four-poster. “I caught them before they
left for breakfast. I figured you would want to draw a plan before going out. And I also asked
the prefects to not let anyone out before we do. So we can control the information.”
Hermione could only gape at him. He smirked and sent her a wink.
Pansy huffed in annoyance. "What is it?” She asked. “Theo was being all serious and
mysterious.”
Theo’s idea of gathering everyone was brilliant. She wouldn’t have to retell it over and over
again. And Hermione did just that: she told them everything that had happened last night,
only keeping the time travel bits and the werewolf part from them. Only Draco knew of her
Time-Turner and she knew it was better to keep Lupin’s secret a secret. They were amazing
listeners and not once interrupted her. She had to bite down a smile because they were
already used to her upending information down on them while trying to write down
everything. This was almost the same, the only difference was that no notes were being
taken.
Pansy was frowning and was the first to speak when Hermione finished. “I might not know
much but, if there’s something that my mother always told me, is that whenever Dumbledore
wants to do something, the best course of action is to do exactly the opposite.”
Draco chuckled and a few others shared the sentiment.
“I don’t like to say that Pansy is right,” Blaise began, “but she does have a point.” He told
them. “From what you tell us, Dumbledore knew it from the moment you stepped into
Hogwarts. Professor Lupin is your godfather and if Dumbledore could hire him to teach this
year, he most probably could have reached out earlier and had his confirmation three years
ago.”
Hermione nodded. She had said the exact same thing to Snape.
“Which lead us to believe that he didn’t want to,” Daphne concluded.
“They were friends, right? Professor Lupin, Black, Pettigrew and the Potters?” Tracey asked.
“What if Dumbledore didn’t ask earlier because he thought that maybe Lupin could be in
league with Black and wanted to protect you?”
“No,” Theo said. “It’s not that. If he had thought Lupin could be working with Black, he
wouldn’t have hired Lupin in the first place, especially not right when Black escaped from
Azkaban.” He shook his head. Hermione noticed how defensive he sounded. Theo really
liked Professor Lupin. “I don’t think he needed Lupin's confirmation, the same way I think he
simply decided to not tell Granger and Potter.”
“Yeah, but why?” Daphne asked.
“Control,” Draco said. “Mother said that it’s always easy to control people when they don’t
have all the information.”
“He wants to control Harry?” Hermione asked, suddenly alert.
“Honestly? I thought you would have figured it by now.” He told her. “Before you came
around for the summer before our second year, I heard Snape talking to Father about Quirrell.
Snape and Dumbledore knew it had been him going after the Philosopher’s stone the entire
time. Snape was fuming that he had to take part in the theatrics because Dumbledore wanted
Potter to find the stone and face You-Know-Who in the end.”
“And you didn’t tell me that, why?” She asked him.
He gave her his awful smirk. “Control.”
Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but Blaise cut her off. “Back to the matter in hand. You
two can go over this later.” He waved them off. “There’s no way of knowing why
Dumbledore decided to keep this information from Potter. But we can do something about the
information now.”
“Hermione is the Missing Sister. Potter knows now. Black was innocent all along and has run
to avoid the Kiss. Pettigrew is now at large.” Pansy counted off the main events of last night.
“I think it's obvious. The rest of our house is waiting for us outside. We tell them all, there’s
no need for details—“ Pansy added after noticing Hermione’s expression. She didn’t want to
tell everything again. “Just the essential: Hermione, Black and Pettigrew. We ask them to
keep quiet only until breakfast and then—”
“Morgana's tits you are an evil mastermind,” Daphne said and both girls grinned at one
another.
“I don’t know Legilimency, so do share.” Blaise urged.
“Dumbledore has kept it a secret until now. I don’t think he will tell the school about the
events last night. If he does, well, then that’s it. But if he doesn’t…”
“Oh!” Hermione and the others exclaimed.
“We spread the news,” Theo concluded.
Pansy nodded. “If that’s what you want.” She asked Hermione.
“Yeah. That’s what I want. I don’t want Dumbledore using me or Harry for whatever reason
he might have.”
With that decided, they all nodded and quickly exited the dormitory to change and inform the
rest of their house. Even after three years, it still amazed Hermione how much sway Theo had
over the other students. A third-year shouldn’t be able to hold the rest of the house hostage
because he wanted to.
Hermione let her friends do the honours. Tracey and Milli were beside themselves with
finally being able to put their gossiping skills to a greater cause. Even Greg and Vince were
shining, they rarely had information over the other students and she saw the way their
shoulders were proud as they told a group of first years.
Narcissa had been right, of course, information was control. And right then, it was Slytherin’s
greatest power.
Breakfast was a tense affair at the Slytherin table. They ate in silence, waiting to see if
Dumbledore would say anything. Hermione could only glare at the Headmaster’s smile and
wishes for everyone to enjoy the meal.
She felt a hand on her thigh and looked to see Draco looking at her. “We will get it right.”
Hermione gave a tiny nod and resumed picking her breakfast. Since the exams had finished,
no one seemed to want to stay in the castle and the majority of the students went to
Hogsmeade to enjoy a last weekend at the village before returning home. Hermione decided
she would avoid the crowds and the looks she was already getting from the Slytherin table
and go pay Lupin a visit. Her godfather.
Her friends went to Hogsmeade, they all had a job to do. Hermione had no doubts that by
lunch, everyone would know everything that had happened the night before. Dismissing both
Draco’s and Theo’s offer to accompany her, she left the Great Hall in search of Lupin, he
hadn’t been at breakfast, so she thought she could find him at his office.
His door was closed, so she knocked before and waited for the quiet “come in, Hermione”
from the inside. She opened the door and stopped on the threshold, not expecting the scene in
front of her.
“What are you doing?” She asked and he merely looked at her, because they both knew what
he was doing. Hermione huffed. “Why are you packing?”
“As of this morning, I’m no longer your Defence Against the Dark Arts professor.”
“Dumbledore fired you?” She asked, outrage barely hidden in her tone.
Remus gave a little smirk. “No, Hermione. He didn’t fire me. I resigned.”
“But why! You can’t go—You are the best professor we ever got! You have to—”
“Hermione.” He closed the door behind her with his wand and motioned for her to step up to
his desk, where he was putting the things he was removing from his drawers. “There was
quite the gathering this morning at your common room.” He told her, pointing at the opened
parchment in the middle of his desk. The Marauder’s Map.
“I didn’t tell them!” She vowed. “I would never—Professor, I have been hiding books this
entire year so people wouldn’t find out.”
He smiled at her, a proper smile this time. “I never got to thank you for that. I happened to be
at Snape’s cupboard picking up a few ingredients when you made your outburst. I’ve got to
say it, it really made my year.”
Hermione blushed a little. She had no idea he had been there that day. It had been one of the
most embarrassing moments for her. “So, why?”
“Snape will tell whomever he can have it spreading the news faster. I happen to know
Severus quite well, despite his many attempts to say otherwise,” Lupin told her and with a
hand on her shoulder, guided her to the armchair in front of his desk. He pulled his chair to sit
next to her. “I don’t think he hates me, not anymore. But I’m not very high on his list of
people he tolerates the company.” He snorted. “But it happens that he does really, really hate
Sirius. He went wild yesterday when they found out Sirius had escaped and—”
“He knows it wasn’t you.” She cut him off and then quickly blushed. “Er—he—hm, he
knows I did it.”
Remus gave her another smile, but this time it was oh so proud that made Hermione look
down on her lap. “Thank you, for that too.” She nodded. “He doesn’t deserve the kiss.”
“No.” Hermione agreed. Looking up, she added, “We are going to tell everyone.” She said,
“That’s what the meeting at the Common Room was about. I told everyone that I’m Harry’s
sister, that Pettigrew is the actual traitor and that Sirius is innocent. We are going to get the
truth out.”
Remus was clearly surprised. His warm brown eyes widened and she saw a lot of emotions
going through his expression at her words. “Hermione—”
“Dumbledore didn’t tell me. Didn’t tell Harry. I don’t know why he wanted to keep it a secret
and it can’t be for a good reason. Harry deserved to know. I deserved to know. I thought he
was going to tell the school this morning what had happened last night, but he didn’t. Not a
word.” Hermione said, almost spitting it at the end. She was still angry, she knew. Hermione
could even admit that she was also angry with Lupin, but Dumbledore had the biggest share
of her anger. “I decided he won’t get to keep the information any longer."
“That's very brave of you.” He told her. “About Sirius—”
“It was Draco’s idea, actually. They are cousins, I think. It doesn’t look good on his family.”
Both winced at her words and they shared a mischievous smile. “It makes them look even
worse, with that aunt of his.”
Lupin nodded. “Having the purebloods behind Sirius is good. He will probably hate it, but
they have the power to at least force the Ministry to issue a statement and—”
He didn’t get to finish, because Harry had just barged in and he looked quite dishevelled.
Well, more than usual. “I just saw Hagrid,” he breathed. “And he said you’d resigned. It’s not
true, is it?”
“I’m afraid it is,” Remus said. “Join us.”

“Why?” Harry asked and he didn’t even acknowledge her presence before asking Remus
another question. “The Ministry of Magic doesn’t think you were helping Sirius, do they?”
“No. Professor Dumbledore managed to convince Fudge that I was trying to save your lives
—”
“What?” Hermione blurted. “He didn’t even tell anything to Fudge about how Sirius was
innocent?” Merlin, only showed that she had been right in agreeing to Pansy’s plan. “He
knows Sirius is innocent.” Hermione groaned and despite knowing better, tried to run her
fingers on her curls in exasperation. “He was the one to cast the Fidelius Charm for Merlin’s
sake!” She cried. “He has known all along that Sirius was innocent!”
Remus, who had been in the middle of getting up to give Harry the seat, stopped and stared at
her. He blinked and frowned. She saw anger too. Betrayal. Remus gulped and both she and
Harry watched as Remus regained his cool. Slowly, he asked her. “How do you know that?”
Hermione found herself being the sole attention of the two other people in the room and
Remus was waiting for her answer as if she had just uncovered the secret behind the Elixir of
Life. “Harry told me during the first year that James had given his Cloak to Dumbledore
when they were hiding. I just—” Hermione hadn’t actually thought this through previously, it
was something that just came out, but somehow, now that it was out, she just knew she was
right. “If the Potters were under the Fidelius and James lent the Cloak while they were
hiding, it means that either Dumbledore was let in on the secret or he was the one to cast the
spell.” She concluded. “Either option, he had to know who was the Secret Keeper.”
Remus seemed a bit faint. He was usually pale after a full moon, but he seemed dizzy and
had to hold onto the desk and lean against it, she knew it was not the wolf’s fault.
“Hermione.” He whispered and in a spur of agility, he kneeled in front of her and grabbed her
face. “You have no idea how dangerous what you just said is.”
She felt her throat closing, “but I’m right, aren’t I?”
He gave a sad, tired smile. “I have yet to see you get something wrong.”
“What—“ Harry began, looking between them. “What does this mean then?”
Remus turned to Harry and still kneeling between the - Merlin - siblings, held one of their
hands in each of his. “Harry, did Dumbledore really have James' cloak?”
“Yeah. Dumbledore gave it to me as a Christmas’ present in my first year. Why?”
“This is a very important question, Harry,” Remus said. She knew he was trying to hide his
emotions from them both, more specifically from Harry and she was dying to know why. To
ask what else he had just learned. “I think it’s better if you two go now, I don’t think it will do
either of you much good to be seen with me.”
“No!” She and Harry said at the same time.

“I don’t care that you are a werewolf!” Harry said angrily, “You’re the best Defence Against
the Dark Arts teacher we’ve ever had!”
Remus looked between them both. He tried to give them a smile, but it was small and flimsy
at best. “This year, even with yesterday’s events, it has been the best year in my life in a very,
very long time.” He told them. “You two can’t even begin to understand what it meant for me
to open my eyes at that compartment and see that you two were in there. Watching you,
teaching you… it has been an immense pleasure and I'm sorry that I have to leave, but you
are going to see me again.” He promised them. “We are family. And Hermione would never
allow me to leave with at least a ten-page long explanation.”
“I really won’t.” She told him. She was trying very hard to fight off her tears.
Lupin chuckled and still ignoring what their latest discovery meant for him, reached for the
map on his desk. “Here— I brought this from the Shrieking Shack last night,” he handed
Harry back the map and his hand hovered over the Cloak, that just now Hermione noticed it
had been there. “This belongs to you. Since I’m no longer your teacher, I don’t feel guilty
about giving this back. It’s no use to me, and I daresay you two will find uses for it.”
Harry took the map and grinned. “You told me Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs
would’ve wanted to lure me out of school. You said they’d have thought it was funny.”
“And so we would have,” Remus agreed, Hermione noticed that all his things had now
finished packing themselves. “I have no hesitation in saying that James would have been
highly disappointed if his son had never found any of the secret passages out of the castle.”
“Are you going to meet Sirius?” Hermione asked. Remus only nodded. “Tell him we are
going to clear his name.”
There was a faraway look on his face when he replied. “He will be on your debt.”
Chapter End Notes
We've reached the end of year three. Book 4 is turning out to be quite big (it is one of the
biggest in the series lol) because it's where we really start to separate ourselves from
canon. I ask you all to bear with me as I'm still writing it and trying to not be repetitive
with the events on canon!
Again, please let me know in the comments what you think.
The characters are not mine, they belong to the original author of the series.
A few excerpts were taken from Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban
The title and quote at the beginning belong to As The World Caves In by Matt Maltese
falling doesn't feel so bad when i know you've fallen this way too
Chapter Notes
I'm afraid I'm doomed to repetition but i honestly can't stop saying how amazed and
floored I am by all of your support. I didn't expect anything from this work because it's
such a specific niche of events that I've always believed it lived in my mind and that it
would be hard to find audience... well i was wrong and so happy about it. When i
updated this fic last Friday, it had just reached 30k hits and now we are halfway through
35k, which for me is unbelievable! Again, thank you so much for all the love and
support!
Without further ado, let's begin year 4!!
hold my hand tight, we'll make it another night

I still get a little scared of something new
but I feel a little safer when I'm with you
Chapter Twenty Three
Severus had left the castle the moment he could. He missed the ending ceremony because he
couldn’t bear all the talk that was going on. Everybody was talking about Hermione being the
missing sister and to make things worse, everyone had taken on calling her the Potter Girl.
He had to remove himself from there before he sent a hex flying. There was also the talk
about Sirius Black, of course. Draco was more than willing to talk to whoever wanted to hear
about how unjust it was to condemn a man without trial because of his surname and how his
family suffered from corrupt ministry officers that wanted to see the Black family in disgrace.
Severus was done with Remus Lupin. He was absolute, one hundred per cent done with the
man. Severus didn’t care how many owls or howlers Lupin sent, he had no intention of
talking to him. Severus didn’t care that Sirius Black was innocent after all, he didn’t care that
his daughter had gone and proved herself quite the gossiper and sent her entire house with the
news of that evening. He did care only a bit that Dumbledore seemed quite annoyed by the
turn of events. And the half dozen letters Lupin sent? No. He didn't care about those.
So he went home. He wasn’t going to the Manor this summer, trying to avoid Narcissa’s
knowing looks and Lucius’ general presence. The mark on his left arm had darkened over the
summer and July came and went with it itching and burning. He knew he should’ve gone
investigate it the moment the mark began darkening, but he also knew that Hermione had
gone straight to the Manor and as much as he came to cherish their moments there where he
could spend time with her outside of a classroom, he didn’t want to learn whether she was
glad or not to be the Missing Sister.
He was good at hiding and even better at being alone, so Severus decided to stay put in
Spinner’s End until September 1st and Merlin willing, wouldn’t be seeing a single fa— “I
know you are in there Snape!” Fucking Remus Lupin barked from the other side of his front
door. “You are being more immature than usual!” The man pounded on his door.
Severus swore. He could simply stay silent and ignore the pounding door, but neighbours
would appear and get nosey. They’d probably appear anyway because he never got any
visitors. Severus hated nosey neighbours.
He wrenched the door open. “I thought the ignored letters were enough sign.” Remus ignored
him and barged inside. “Is this vengeance?”
“Hermione told me something that I hadn’t considered before.”
“It's no surprise really, she’s way smarter than you in fact.”
Again, Remus ignored him. “Dumbledore cast the Fidelius Charm.”
Severus stopped. It was like someone had grabbed his heart and given it a little squeeze,
stopping his whole body. “No.”
“Yes.” Remus retorted. “She said so during my last day in the castle—”
“There’s no way she can know that. Even being the know-it-all that she is.”
“Dumbledore asked James for his cloak when James went hiding. Did you know that?”
“No.” He frowned, was that why the Potter boy had the cloak since his first year? The boy
had no idea about magic before receiving his letter, he doubted an invisibility cloak would be
at the bottom of his wardrobe all these years and he simply failed to notice until then.
“He did. Hermione said it so. Harry confirmed it too. But not only that. I asked Sirius and he
told me that Dumbledore cast the spell. He was the one to come up with the idea for the
Fidelius. He knew Pettigrew was the Secret Keeper. He had known all along.”
“He never said a thing.”
“No,” Remus repeated, shaking his head. "Why did he ask for the cloak? They could have
hidden under the cloak when Voldemort came, he wouldn’t have found them. Why did he let
Sirius go to Azkaban? Why didn’t he send anyone after Peter?”
Severus’ frown deepened. It didn’t make sense. None of it. But he could say that he knew
Albus and knew that the man never did a thing without his reasons. “The question we need to
ask is why he thought it important to keep those things secret.”
“Many times I believed that we were in the wrong on hiding her,” Lupin said, face drawn.
“Now, I only wish I had denied when he asked me.”
Severus remembered the satisfied expression on the headmaster’s face when Remus entered
his office and confirmed it. He remembered feeling that Dumbledore thought it was merely a
formality and that the old man already had all he needed. “I don’t think Dumbledore ever
needed your confirmation.”
Remus nodded and then gasped. “Mary!”
“Who?”
“Mary McDonald,” Remus said and Severus could only stare at the man.
“What about her?”
“She knows the truth. About you, I mean.”
“She’s dead.”
“I don’t know,” Remus confessed. “That last month—” he started, “I was barely around,
going off on missions and meeting up with you and Narcissa. I hadn’t seen her for a while,
but I know she left after Marls died. McKinnon and her family, I mean.”
“I know.” Severus sighed. He wasn’t the one to cast the spell, but he had been there. “But
where is she then? If not dead?”
“It's not like anyone found a body!” Remus exclaimed, “and we know now what it means
when we don’t have a body.” He scoffed. Severus understood the feeling.
“Dumbledore never mentioned her. I don’t think he remembers her.” Severus asked, “she left
the Order, didn’t she? Quite early in the war.”
Remus nodded. “Dead or alive, she didn’t have any information on Hermione’s whereabouts.
She left before Voldemort killed Lily and James.”
It struck Severus then, something else, something that had always bothered him.
“Black.” He said. “I guess it explains why he never looked for you after that night,” Severus
said and watched as slowly, Remus came to that same conclusion as well.
Remus scoffed. “He got James’ cloak, cast the spell with Sirius and then when shit went
down he let the world believe it had been Sirius all along, allowing Peter to remain at large
all these years. What? Are we to think that facing me was suddenly too much for him? Too
much guilt?”
It was Severus turn to scoff. “Dumbledore doesn’t do guilt. He probably wanted you isolated
from the two for his own reasons.”
“From everyone.” Remus reminded him. “Not once, Severus. Not once any member of the
Order contacted me after their funeral.”
“The war was over Lupin. They didn’t need werewolves on their side just like they didn’t
need a spy among the Death Eaters.” Severus retorted, “the only difference is that
Dumbledore didn’t feel like holding you on a leash.”
“I don’t appreciate the dog joke.” It was Remus' reply.
He ignored. “What we do have,” Severus said instead, “is that we know Dumbledore didn’t
like Hermione telling everyone everything.”
“What did he expect? That Harry and Hermione wouldn’t say a thing?”
“He hoped that they would at least keep quiet about the events at the Shack.”
Remus scoffed. “I saw on the Prophet that Narcissa demands reparation. She was never close
to Sirius.”
“She’s quite determined with that, by the way. I can’t figure it out why either.”
“I don’t care. I bet he doesn’t care either. As long as he gets to be free. Properly.”
“Where is he now? I thought you two would be on your honeymoon.”
“As if I’m telling you anything,” Remus smirked. “And don’t try to search it inside my mind.
He didn’t tell me either.”
“I have no desire to go inside your mind.” Severus snapped. He sighed. His house was almost
bare of decorations, he didn’t care for those things and spent most of his time in the castle
anyway, but there were a few and those were all pictures of Hermione. They were muggle
pictures he had framed over the years. They were all aligned on top of his mantlepiece. He
had the one that came in Lily’s letter, when Hermione had turned two, he had sparse ones that
Remus had given him while he worked in the bookstore. His pictures of her stopped
somewhere after her sixth birthday. He looked from one picture to another, her smiling face
in every single one of them. “He has something planned.” Severus continued. “We thought it
was only Harry, but every trial he has set out for Harry, he has somehow made something for
her as well.”
“The tasks on their first year, the basilisk last year and…?”
“She had a Time-Turner this year. McGonagall gave it to her.”
“They are illegal.”
“Tell that to them.” Severus snapped. “She used it to save Black and the Hippogriff.” He
added. “By Dumbledore’s instructions.”
Remus scoffed. “Is this as far as he will go, then? Ask kids to do his dirty work? He didn’t
even try to tell Fudge that Sirius is innocent—Hermione reminded me of that too.”
“This is good,” Severus said, nodding to himself. His mark burned again, he ignored it. “She
doesn’t trust him. He will have more trouble trying to get her to do his bidding than he ever
did with us.”
“What’s wrong with you?” Remus asked suddenly. Severus had to contain a groan of
annoyance. Of course, the werewolf would notice it.
He raised his sleeve and showed the disgusting mark on his arm. Remus flinched at the sight.
“This thing is acting up.”
“Fuck.”
“Well put.”
“Have you told Dumbledore yet?”
“No. I wasn’t planning on talking to him until September.”
“Does it mean he’s back?”
“Probably. Or he’s getting stronger. It’s nothing as strong as his summons were back in the
day, so I believe it means he hasn’t returned yet.”
“Is she with the Malfoys now?”
“Yeah, they are taking her to the Quidditch World Cup next month.”
“Lucius might know more. She—”
“She's safe with Narcissa.” Severus cut him off. “I don’t trust Lucius to not grow desperate
by the mark burning again, but Narcissa would never allow him to do anything that put her in
danger. If I can trust her with something, is with Hermione.”
“But Narcissa is walking on thin ice with Hermione,” Remus said. “Voldemort knows the
truth and when he returns, he will want to know why the girl spent every second not at
Hogwarts, under their roof.”
Yes. Severus sighed. They hadn’t been foolish to believe that Voldemort had indeed died that
night, but they had counted on him taking a bit longer to find his way back. They had run out
of time. He wasn’t about to confess that. “I'm certain she will spin a wonderful tale when the
time comes.”
“She can lie to him?” Remus asked, clearly impressed.
He nodded. It chilled Severus to remember. Narcissa had been sixteen when the Blacks'
middle sister ran away to marry that muggle-born. There had been a meeting over that
summer, for the young daughters and sons of the noble houses. Severus had been beyond
proud to be invited. Proud to be seen by those people. He remembered feeling accomplished,
at only twelve, and part of that group. It was the day he met Voldemort. He should have
realised that a forty-five-year-old man had no business meeting with a group of underage,
highly-impressionable, noble wizards and witches with god complexes.
But Narcissa, Narcissa at only sixteen had been looking straight at that man’s face when he
asked her if she knew what her older sister was planning and she replied 'No, I had no idea.'
Later, he found her vomiting behind the orchids and she confessed to him that she had known
all along. He asked her to teach him how to lie like that at that exact moment.
He had failed, when the time for his own trial came. Voldemort had found out the truth in his
head when he begged his Lord to spare Lily's and Hermione’s life. He wouldn’t fail again. "I
have this tattooed on my arm and it cost me too much already. If I ever get to tell Hermione
the truth, I don’t want this to cost me her too.”
He turned his back to Remus because he refused to see pity coming from the other man.
“Dumbledore's going to ask you to be the spy,” Remus said. “There will be another war. I
already know what he will ask from me.”
“I know exactly why Dumbledore gave me a second chance.” Severus spat, turning around
and pointing a finger at Remus. “And it wasn’t on the goodness of his heart.”
“We have to play our part then.” He said, unimpressed by his outburst. “Fourteen years ago,
my goal was to find Greyback and have him pay. I still cared about the werewolves under
him. I wanted us to win the war. Now?” Remus asked, his face hard and already set. “I’ve
just got Sirius back. Hermione knows who I am. I’m not losing that ever again."
Severus nodded, words spoken by Dumbledore ages ago came to his mind: We seize control
for the greater good. Not this time. “There will be no greater good this time.” He told Remus.
“I placed my trust on him then, this time I’m not taking any chances. She comes first.”
“We have to find out why he kept all these things secret. The cloak. Sirius. Pettigrew.
Hermione.”
“The Triwizard Tournament is going to be at Hogwarts this year. Beauxbatons and

Durmstrang are coming. He will be busy with ministry officials. I will pay attention.”
Hermione wasn’t ready to face her parents, not when she couldn’t find it in her to face it. It
was good that Draco invited her to spend the summer with him yet again and it was better yet
that there was the Quidditch World Cup so Hermione could simply tell her parents that she
wanted to experience that over the summer. Not that she was the least excited for it.
But it was all that Draco could talk. “The teams are divided into sixteen groups and then
every team plays all the others over two years until sixteen winning teams remain.” He was
telling her over breakfast a day before they left for the campsite. Narcissa was smiling
indulgently as she sipped her tea and Lucius was absent. Hermione had barely seen him since
she arrived. She had noticed that Narcissa’s expression was hard every time he had to leave.
“—And then during the group phase, they put a time limit of four hours so games don’t last
forever and everyone gets either too bored or too tired. So sometimes this means that some
games won’t end with the Snitch, just by the number of goals.” Hermione bit down on her
toast and wondered how much more would she have to hear him. “Any win in the group
phase counts for two points. A win by more than 150 points earns an additional five points,
by 100 an additional 3 points and 50, 1 point—”
“Draco, dear, your eggs will get cold.” Narcissa, blessedly, cut him off.
“I'm not that hungry.” He told his mother. “Can we go now? The Quarter-Finals start
tomorrow and I want to get Krum’s shirt. Father said he would get me one signed, but he still
hasn’t given me—”
“What have I told you about impatience?” They heard Lucius’ voice from the doorway and
all turned to see him. Narcissa smiled at her husband.
“It causes wise people to do foolish things.” Draco parroted.
“Exactly,” Lucius said and with a twirl of his wand, removed the concealment charm on the
box on top of the coffee table. Draco gasped.
Hermione watched with barely hidden amusement the way Draco - after just being called out
on his impatience - had to physically restrain himself to not run to it.
“You can open it after we finish eating,” Narcissa told her son. “Let's enjoy breakfast with
your father, he couldn’t eat with us these last few days.” She said. There was a smile on her
face, but her voice carried the accusative tone that Hermione had come to recognise as
Narcissa’s speciality.
“I'm sorry Darling,” Lucius said and offered his wife a kiss on the cheek before sitting in his
seat.
Draco had suddenly found his hunger and was very politely devouring his eggs.
Hermione sighed. “Do I really need to go?” She asked. “I could stay—I was planning on
reading the east wing of the library, I haven’t had the opportunity to explore that part yet.”
Draco groaned. “It's the World Cup! It only happens once every four years! You can read all
you want after the eighteenth!”
“I don’t care all that much about quidditch, you know that.”
“Because you haven’t seen any professional games! Krum is the youngest Seeker ever! He
already has a move named after him and they—”
“There are going to be wizards from all over the world,” Lucius told her, cutting off his son
in the middle of what was about to be yet another ode to Krum. “Some of them practice
magic very differently than us. Students from Uagadou for example, can cast spells with their
fingers and the Chinese are very versed in Charms, we can expect very interesting displays of
fireworks from them.” That was interesting. “There's a spell that allows you to understand
whatever language the person is speaking, I believe you can find conversations with them
very enlightening.” He told her and she was already making a mental list of all the things she
wanted to ask. She didn’t even know that there were schools other than Hogwarts and
Beauxbatons. “But of course, you can stay, I’m sure we have something on the giant storm
petrels that take the under eleven, non-boarding students back home in Mahoutokoro.”
She had no idea what storm petrels were and where Mahoutokoro was, or that other schools
had students under eleven. Hermione was now very excited to go. “No. I want to go.” She
replied excitedly. Narcissa smiled; laughter on her lips. In a rare display, Lucius smiled too.
“I can read those when we get back.”
Draco didn’t say anything, but Hermione suspected it was because he still hadn’t removed his
eyes from the box on the coffee table.
When the elves removed their plates, Draco didn’t run to the table, because he was very well
raised - despite some of his nasty behaviours at school - and instead, waited politely for his
father to pick the box and put it in front of him. Hermione watched the small interaction:
Draco’s widened sparkling eyes, looking up adoringly to his father, Lucius watched his son
with a barely restrained fondness and seemed incredibly pleased to watch his son aw-ing and
oh-ing. He told Draco, “It's not signed because I secured us an hour with him and Karkaroff
after the Semi-Final. I imagined you would want to ask him yourself and talk to him a bit.” It
was like watching a flower bloom: Draco’s smile grew impossibly bigger and she couldn’t
even fault him for being extremely spoiled when it made him that happy and Merlin, it made
him beautiful.
Lucius was many things, a terrible person probably being one of them, but he wasn’t a
terrible father. Far from it. He was attentive, present, and genuinely interested in Draco’s life.
He’d always find Draco and invite him to some sort of bonding time. Hermione knew that
she was in a very particular and privileged position where she had a front-row view of the
Malfoy family’s dynamics and it was very different from what they portrayed in public.
Every summer that she returned to the manor she found it harder and harder to reconcile the
Lucius Malfoy who’d have a Hippogriff killed simply because he could, to the Lucius Malfoy
that booked an hour with the most famous Quidditch player in the world so that Draco could
ask for an autograph.
After being given the shirt, Draco wanted to do nothing but play Quidditch, so father and son
grabbed their brooms to play. Hermione followed Narcissa to the gardens, where she helped
the matriarch to water them. She had asked, during one of her first visits, why she chose to
tend to the flowers and plants herself instead of asking one of the elves. Narcissa had replied
that she liked nurturing things.
“This is Rosemary,” Narcissa said, “They are a cognitive stimulant and help improve memory
performance and quality. Besides, they are very good to boost alertness, intelligence, and
focus.” Hermione nodded. She loved these small lessons that Narcissa would offer, but she
also knew that Narcissa never taught her something without a reason behind it. “I find it that
rosemary tea really helps to achieve the necessary concentration one requires before starting
to practice Occlumency.”
Hermione snapped her head in Narcissa’s direction. She remembered what Theo said that
night in the common room after Sirius’ escape. “Do you know Occlumency, Aunt Cissy?”
Narcissa smiled, one could easily say that it looked arrogantly, and maybe it really was, but it
was such a perpetual Malfoy smile, that Hermione was more than used to it. “Oh, my darling,
I’m one of the best Occlumens that there is,” She told her, “Well, Severus would argue and
say that he’s better, but the last time we went after one another I came up on top.”
Hermione grinned. She’d love to see her professor and Narcissa attacking each other's minds,
she doubted either of them would go easy.
“Could you teach me?”
“Of course,” Narcissa said, “I will send you a few books on mental preparation and
meditation for you to start reading and understand the necessary mental state that one needs
to begin. The elves will prepare the tea. We can start once we return from the World Cup.”
And now it was Hermione who was quite excited for the World Cup because she had the
promise of tutoring waiting for her.
When they finished in the garden, Hermione went to her room and just as Narcissa had said,
a few books were already on her bed. She saw their covers and ran through the pages,
skimming through the contents.
“No.” She heard from the door and turned to see Draco leaning against her threshold and
shaking his head. He flicked his wand and the book jumped from her hand and back to the
bed. “Mother sent me to keep you from devouring them. We need to pack, we are leaving in
an hour.”
“Already?” Hermione asked, “I thought we would go tomorrow before breakfast.”
“Father had to leave again and mother decided that it’s going to do him good to find the
house empty.” He explained as he walked towards her bed and jumped on it. She only had
time to move the books away.
“And Crookshanks?” She asked, her cat was currently sleeping on the armchair near her
window. He had proved yet again to be extremely smart and had yet to cross paths with
Lucius.
“What about him?” Draco asked.
“I can’t leave him behind!”
Draco rolled his eyes. “You lost your cat for weeks last year, he’s going to be fine here, the
elves can keep an eye on him.” He said. Crookshanks seemed to take offence at that and
meowed.
Hermione snorted. “Have you packed?”
Draco looked at her like she was crazy. “Dipsy is doing that right now.” Hermione rolled her
eyes. Of course.
“You know, you are really going to need to know where your pants are one day.” She told
him jokingly and saw with satisfaction the slight colouring of his cheeks.
“Shut up,” he mumbled, “I know where they are.” She laughed and allowed him to sprawl on
her comforter. It gave her some crazy power knowing that she could have him there.
“How many days are we going to stay anyway? I don’t know what to pack.”
“Two weeks. It’s going to be crazy hot—” Hermione noticed him eying her bare legs and the
colouring returned to his cheeks. She knew hers would be the same. “So you can take those
tiny things you have.”
“It's called shorts.” She told him. Hermione would never forget the look on his face - and
Lucius’ and Narcissa’s - when they saw her with muggle shorts in her first summer in the
Manor. Now that she actually had legs, nice ones she could admit, Draco’s reaction to
whenever she sat down next to him made the elephant in Hermione’s belly do a little jump.
“Hm.” He said absently, “I can get you jerseys too, Father is raising my allowance for the
week and I will have more than enough to buy all the merchandise there. Do you want the
England one? You do live in England right?”
“Yeah, my parents' house is in London actually.” She told him. “The England jersey would be
nice.”
“Great. I have to get you one for Bulgaria as well. You can’t go to meet Krum without one,
because—”
She tuned him out, every time he mentioned Krum, Hermione knew she had at least ten
minutes to ignore him. So she began to choose between her clothes. Every year she had more
and more clothes in the Manor, in fact, Hermione was quite sure that she had more here than
in her house in London now. It also didn’t help that every summer Hermione returned to find
new additions to her drawers, no doubt, Narcissa’s doing.
Hermione packed her shorts, two pairs of jeans, skirts and another pair of pants. She also
picked one of the dresses Narcissa had gotten her that summer, it was lovely and she hadn’t
had the time to wear it yet.
“It gets chilly at night,” Draco told her and she saw that he had a sweater in his hands and she
grabbed it from him. It was his. Well, it had been his, but he hadn’t stopped growing and
most of his clothes didn’t fit him anymore. She had nicked more than one piece from his
bedroom, the one in his hands was proof.
Once she finished sorting through her clothes, an elf appeared with a trunk - Hermione still
didn’t know how those creatures simply knew when to appear - and with a snap of its fingers,
put all of her clothes inside.
“Madam asks if young Mister and Miss are ready.”
“Yeah,” Draco said, jumping excitedly from her bed. “We are.”
“Flickt will take Miss’ things downstairs. Madam is waiting for young master and his miss in
the drawing-room.” The elf said and left, leaving Hermione to pretend not to have heard the
elf’s last words.
If Draco had heard it, he didn’t show. He was way too excited to go. Hermione hadn’t pegged
him as someone who would be excited to go camping.
Hermione had asked why they needed to camp and couldn’t simply Apparate or take a
portkey on the days that there were games, after all, Portkeys might be Ministry-regulated,
but she knew the Malfoys had no problem acquiring them. And she wasn’t a stranger to side-
along Apparition anymore. Draco had explained that all sorts of protections were put in the
area where the World Cup was being held, it was impossible to Apparate in or out - in case
someone decided to come without a ticket - and Portkeys to the World Cup had pre-set time
and were public, so they would have to squeeze between other people and surely that was
beneath a Malfoy.
Lucius had gotten his son tickets for all of the fifteen matches that would start tomorrow.
Hermione couldn’t understand wanting to watch that many quidditch in as many days.
All of her friends were going. Blaise and Theo would arrive tomorrow morning before the
match between Ireland and Japan. Milli, Vince and Greg were already there for days now,
Hermione learned that you had to arrive early depending on the quality of your tickets.
It was the first time Hermione thanked Draco for being disgustingly wealthy. Fifteen days
already sounded like a hell of a long time to spend camping and with quidditch. She would
have tried harder to stay behind if they had to stay even longer.
They arrived at the campsite and Hermione stared aghast that they were in a muggle
campsite. Wizards disguised as muggles - very poorly she might add - were Obliviating the
muggles that were responsible for the administration of the camp every time a wizard or
witch did something that broke the Secrecy.
It was packed, Hermione and Draco had wide eyes at everything. She had never seen that
many wizards and witches together. Lucius had spoken the truth, there were magical folk
from everywhere. As soon as they arrived at their tent, Hermione realised that camping was a
very inappropriate word to describe what they would be doing for the fortnight.
Their tent was in fact an extravagant confection of striped silk that resembled a miniature
palace and a few of Lucius’ white peacocks were there. “You brought Abigail?” Draco had
asked his mother and surely, Hermione shouldn’t be privy to witness those absurdities.
Maybe if Harry could see this then he would know that the Malfoys didn’t live in coffins and
under spiderwebs like she was certain he and Ronald believed.
“Your father wouldn’t hear about leaving her behind,” Narcissa replied to what could only be
suppressed exasperation.
The inside of the tent was not as extravagant as the outside, clearly, the intention was to have
people knowing exactly just how wealthy the Malfoy family was. Hermione doubted that a
single person would leave the campsite without knowing the answer.
Nonetheless, the inside was grandiose. The main area had a fireplace and two sofas on
opposite sides of one another, to the right side there was a flap that led to one of the rooms,
and right next to it there was another flap that led to the bathroom. On their left side, was the
kitchen. Belatedly, Hermione realised it was the first time she was seeing a magical kitchen.
She had no idea where the one in the Manor was and she hadn’t also gone to the one at
Hogwarts. Another flap right to the back led to the master bedroom. Hermione was certain it
was an en-suite.
“The two of you are on the right. Draco, show Hermione where to put her things.” Draco
nodded and unnecessarily, dragged her by the wrist.
It was very similar to his room at the manor: the bed was just a little bit smaller, but the
sheets were the same and he even had an armchair to the corner, next to an empty bookshelf.
“It's connected to the library at home, so you just ask for the book you want and it will appear
on the shelf.” He told her when he caught her looking. She nodded, but didn’t go try it, they
had passed through so many people outside and she was honestly curious and excited to see
what was waiting for her. Draco eyed her suspiciously, “you can ask for books, I know you
want to.”
“Later. I want to explore the campsite with you.”
He smiled and it was damning, in Hermione’s opinion, how much she had come to strive for
that particular smile. The soft one around the edges, that spoke of honesty and warmth and
Merlin, made her want to kiss him so badly.
“Let's go then.”
They rushed outside and barely missed Narcissa’s ‘be careful’ warning. It was already dark
outside, but people were celebrating. There were flags from all over the world, most people
had paint on their cheeks and funny hats on top of their heads. Indeed, there were amazing
displays of fireworks and Hermione could only wonder how the Statute of Secrecy would
explain to the muggles fireworks that were shaped as Chinese dragons.
The crowd was thick and they both reached for each other’s hand at the same time. They
shared a small smile over a group of smaller children and Hermione just wanted to tug him
closer to her. There was food from all over the world, Hermione tried the okonomiyaki and
Draco tried the matoke, traditional food from Uganda. He was a known sweet tooth, and she
saw him filling his pockets with many sweets from different vendors.
They watched a show from Peruvian dancers and Hermione was transfixed by the sparks that
came out of the woman’s handkerchief every time she waved it. Later, they joined another
crowd that was cheering with the Scottish and the Irish fans, while they performed amazing
feats of magic that got them all laughing.
Hermione thought it was another one of their spells when a silver peacock appeared and flew
around them, but when it perched on Draco’s knee, Hermione recognised it as a Patronus.
“Draco, darling. I’m sorry to interrupt what I’m certain it’s lots of fun, but it’s getting late,
please return to our tent,” The peacock-Patronus spoke in Narcissa’s voice and Hermione was
amazed. She knew that strong enough Patronus could talk, but she had yet to see one doing it.
The peacock disappeared in smokes of silver and Draco turned to her to pout. He clearly
didn’t want to go back. “We have lots of days ahead. We will go out tomorrow again.”
And they did exactly that in the days that came. The quarter-finals were organised in a way
that they had two matches per day, one in the morning and one in the early evening. They’d
leave for the stadium, wearing the colours of whatever team the boys were supporting and
they’d cheer throughout the game. And yes, Hermione had to admit that it was completely
different from watching the games at Hogwarts. It was insane how fast they flew and how
skilled the players were. Between the Chasers, most of the time she couldn’t even see the
Quaffle. Draco had gotten her binoculars that allowed the user to replay and she often did it
so to understand what had happened. She even caught herself at the edge of her seat on the
match between Ireland and Japan and almost yelled herself hoarse alongside Draco during
Bulgaria and the U.S.A. She took a picture of Draco’s huge grin when Krum caught the
snitch at the end. Hermione had never seen anything so beautiful.
They always left the matches in high spirits and met with the others outside to explore the
camping site. Pansy had come with Daphne and her family and they were staying in the
family box a few floors underneath the seats Lucius had gotten. Theo was technically with
Daphne as well, but Blaise’s mother had talked with Daphne’s mother and both women were
working behind Theo’s father’s back. Vince’s mom was responsible for both Vince and Greg,
while Millicent’s father - a very angry looking man - dragged his daughter from one place to
the other, without letting her stay with them unsupervised. Milli, as much as she wanted to
stay with her friends, knew that her father couldn’t tag along when Hermione was around.
It was a joke between the Slytherins, trying to decide which one was worse: Hermione the
muggle-born, or Hermione the Missing Sister. For a few of them was a close call.
Hermione thought she would grow bored after so many games - she and Draco were the only
ones with the full package, most of them had gotten tickets only for Britain countries and the
final on the eighteenth - but she was surprisingly enjoying herself.
When they got into the semi-finals, Draco was particularly anxious for the match between
Bulgaria and Uganda because Lucius had finally arrived - and after a very long conversation
in hissing tones with his wife - had announced that they would meet with Viktor Krum later
that day.
The game was incredible, Hermione had begun to understand the boys’ fascination with
Krum when she got to see the boy diving after the Snitch every other day. As they watched
Bulgaria flatten Uganda, a man named Karkaroff arrived and joined Lucius on their box.
Hermione vaguely recognised him from one of the Yule Balls at the manor.
Draco could barely contain his excitement when the game ended and Krum flew straight into
their box, the snitch was still fluttering its wings in his hands. Hermione had only seen him
through the big screens and the newly acquired poster that was now hanging by the bed she
and Draco were sharing. Blaise had also gotten a poster, but his poster focused much more on
Krum’s abs than anything else. Hermione couldn’t look at with without blushing: the shirtless
Krum at the picture kept flexing and it was slightly disorientating.
But now, in person, she found him quite endearing with his strong accent and his clumsiness.
It was almost like the sky made more sense to him than the ground.
By the looks of it, Narcissa didn’t like Karkaroff very much, so after polite greetings, she
excused herself to talk to Uganda’s Minister of Magic, a very stoic-looking woman.
Hermione decided to let Draco talk with his idol alone and approached the Minister’s
daughter. She seemed to be just a bit older than Hermione and was looking quite desolated
with her country's loss.
Afiya seemed happy enough to not discuss her country’s loss and answered Hermione’s
questions happily. Hermione learned that Afiya was indeed two years older than Hermione
and was about to begin her last year of education. Hermione was impressed with the school
curriculum and after everything that happened last year with animagus, she thought it
fascinating how so many of them could self-transform.
Afiya’s was in the middle of her tale about the many times she had escaped with silly tricks
while in Britain because she didn’t need a wand to cast spells when Krum approached them.
“Hello,” he greeted. “Sorry to interrupt, but I was about to leave and couldn’t go without
learning your name.” He told Hermione. She felt her cheeks reddening.
“I'm Hermione.”
“Hermy-own-ninny," He said, and she had to stifle a giggle at his pronunciation.
"Almost there.” She said, before repeating her name, “it's Hermione.”
“Hermy-own-ninny,” He said again and she only smiled. It was a cute mistake, and her name
was quite difficult for foreigners. “Are you with Mr Malfoy?” He asked.
“Yes.” She replied and saw that both Malfoy men were looking at their interaction. Narcissa
was pretending not to look. For someone who had just met his idol, Draco didn’t look very
happy.
“Do you want an autograph as well? You are wearing my shirt.” He said and she noticed how
his sallow skin pinked a bit.
“That would be lovely, thank you.” She said and offered her shoulder for him to sign.
“I'd love one as well,” Afiya said, “but I don’t want to cause any international drama by
going home with an autograph from the man that kicked my country out of the World Cup.”
Krum looked extremely embarrassed about that comment. “I'm sorry about that.” He replied
and Hermione smiled. What a nice boy! “I can send you one if you’d prefer.”
Afiya seemed delighted. “Would you, please? My brother is a really big fan, he was bummed
that he couldn’t attend.”
“Of course.” He said with a nod and turned again to Hermione. “It was very nice meeting
you, Hermy-own-ninny. I can’t wait to see you again.”
“It was nice—”
“We are going,” Draco announced, coming up beside her out of nowhere. “Father is waiting
for us outside the box.”
“Oh, all right,” She said. “Bye! Nice to meet both of you.” She told Krum and Afiya, the
latter waved goodbye while the former gave her a curt nod.
It took Draco all the way down and out of the stadium for him to unfrown, it was almost like
he was waiting to put enough distance between Krum and Hermione to finally gush about his
signed shirt and photo.
Over dinner that night, she observed the family that had taken her in three years ago when
everyone thought they would spit at her. Ok, maybe they had known all along that she wasn’t
really a muggle-born. And of course, Draco took his time and she got hurt because of him,
but not anymore. It wasn’t even because of the newfound blood in her that made her a half-
blood instead of a muggle-born, because he had changed before that particular discovery.
And it made all the difference in the world to her.
She was a bit anxious to go back to school in a few weeks, she didn’t know how everyone
would react to her now that they all had time to process the information. She had sent a few
letters to Harry, but as always, she didn’t get any replies. Hermione knew he was reading
them, but his aunt and uncle - hers too now - were horrible people and hated everything
magic related.
Just as she was feeling accepted at her house for who she was and not because of her blood,
everything changed. Hermione knew how to be the muggle-born in Slytherin, she had yet to
discover how to be the Missing Sister.
At least with them, nothing had changed. Narcissa still smiled at her warmly and corrected
her every time Hermione forgot to add Aunt to her name, and Lucius, besides his current
disappearances, was initiating more and more conversations with her. No Malfoy seemed to
care that she was Harry’s sister. Mainly because they had probably always known.
It was a nice surprise when she saw Harry at the Ministry box on the final. But a rather short-
lived one. Draco slipped his mask as soon as he spotted Harry and Ron and Hermione had to
try really hard to hide how much it twisted her heart seeing him like that. Gone was the boy
with the warm smile and in its place was a mask of restrained politeness that was completely
at odds with any concept of normal human emotions. It was like Draco suddenly became clad
in ice armour that’d freeze her fingers if she tried to touch him.
Hermione looked around her and both Narcissa and Lucius had the same cold detached
expression on their faces. Lucius spoke first:
“Good lord, Arthur,” he said, soft tone as false as his smile. “What did you have to sell to get
seats in the Top Box? Surely your house wouldn’t have fetched this much?” Hermione
winced and she decided to look around, pretending to pay attention to the other people in the
box. A lone elf was sitting in one of the seats, the poor creature was shaking and seemed
eager to be as far as possible from the edge of the box.
Hermione looked again at Fudge, who was beside Arthur and didn't seem to have listened to
Lucius’ question, added to what felt like fuel to the embarrassment that coloured Arthur
Weasley’s face. "Lucius has just given a very generous contribution to St. Mungo’s Hospital
for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Arthur. He’s here as my guest.”
“How — how nice,” said Mr Weasley, with a very strained smile.
Hermione shifted and it seemed to catch Fudge’s attention, he studied her and she wanted to
shrink. “Oh my, is it you?" Is this how it was going to be from now on? She thought. “The
Missing Sister.” He added, loud enough to get every head turning in her direction.
Suddenly, the Malfoys' armour made much more sense.
“Yes, Sir.” She replied, as politely as she could.
“Oh, it’s so very nice to see you. You’ve been in our hearts all these years.” He told her and
Hermione had no idea how to react to that. Narcissa put a hand on her shoulder and softly
squeezed.
“Thank you,” Hermione said.
“I expected to see you with Harry here and—”
“We invited Hermione to spend the summer with us and accompany our son to the matches,”
Lucius said, blessedly saving her from the awkwardness. She couldn’t even look at Harry.
“Of course, of course.” Fudge said, still looking at Hermione like he couldn’t believe his
eyes.
Lucius gave a very small nod to her and she nodded back. She caught Harry’s eyes and saw
that he had seen that small exchange between them. He had an odd look on his face, like for
the first time, he could see that there was something in the Malfoy family that only Hermione
was privy to.
They went to their seats, Lucius in the corner, Narcissa beside him, Draco sat next to his
mother and Hermione sat last. “All right?” Draco murmured, his face facing the giant
stadium in front of them.
“Yes,” she replied, looking ahead as well.
She could feel Harry’s and Ron’s boring gaze on her and Draco. And she could definitely
hear Ron’s disgruntlement at the autograph on both hers and Draco’s shirts.
A man barged into the box, “Everyone ready? Minister?” He asked.
"Ready when you are, Ludo,” Fudge replied.
“Sonorus!” and then spoke over the roar of sound that was now filling the packed stadium;
his voice echoed over them, booming into every corner of the stands.
Hermione was already used to the introductions, after two weeks of continuous Quidditch,
and was pleasantly surprised when she saw that there were National Mascots in the final.
“Veela,” Narcissa said with a sigh. Hermione didn’t understand, but then the music started
and they began dancing. It was like every man had completely lost their wits. “They are so…
Primitive,” Narcissa said as she sneaked a hand around Lucius’ and Draco’s arm, tugging
them back to their seat.
Hermione frowned. Ron looked ready to jump, Harry wasn’t very far off. “Harry, what are
you doing?” She asked, incapable of keeping quiet.
He didn’t seem to hear her. The music stopped and booming echoed all around. The men
didn’t look happy to see the Veela go. Hermione tutted and tugged Harry back to his seat,
“Honestly,” she rolled her eyes.
It was a vicious game. She and Draco had followed both teams during the last two weeks and
even with her very small Quidditch knowledge, she knew it would be a difficult game.
Ireland was leading with over a hundred points and even so, Hermione wasn’t certain that
they would win. It got dirty, very dirty. Hermione thought that a woman like Narcissa
wouldn’t enjoy all that violence, but more than once Hermione caught her swearing under her
breath. Even Lucius had seemed to forget his scowl somewhere between the last fowl and the
penalty for Ireland.
It was chaos, the mascots were fighting and the crowd was yelling and booming furiously, the
Bulgarians were making fouls after fouls and Hermione thought that she had gone deaf when
the Irish Beater swung the Bludger straight into Krum’s nose. He was badly bleeding and no
one seemed to have noticed it. Harry yelled for the Irish Seeker and she found him diving fast
towards the ground.
“He has spotted it,” Draco said, moving close to the edge of his seat.
Krum, still bleeding, forgone his injury and sped towards the other Seeker.
“How—” Hermione began, because she was certain speed like that wasn’t possible,
especially not when his entire face was bloodied.
Hermione wanted to close her eyes, she was certain they were going to crash, but she seemed
unable to, eyes fixed on the Seekers.
The Irish Seeker crashed and angry Veela went at him.
“The Snitch, where’s the Snitch?” One of the Weasley was bellowing.
“He’s got it — Krum’s got it — it’s all over!” Harry yelled and both she and Draco went to
their feet to see it better.
Krum, whose red robes were even redder with blood from his nose, was rising gently into the
air, his fist held high, a glint of gold in his hand.
The scoreboard flashed the final score. A hundred seventy to a hundred sixty. Ten points gave
the Quidditch World Cup to Ireland.
The Irish supporters were in a frenzy, the leprechauns were zooming delightedly all over the
field, showering the Irish players in gold.
Narcissa had a small smile on her face and Hermione realised that despite Draco’s obsession
with the Bulgarian Seeker, Narcissa had been cheering for Ireland.
A very bright light almost blinded them, the Top Box was being magically illuminated and
displayed to the big screen so that everyone in the stands could see the inside. Narcissa
offered Hermione and Draco a pair of glasses that allowed them to see without squinting.
They brought a vast golden cup into the box and the players entered the box. The Bulgarians
looked dejected as they shook hands with Fudge. Krum, who was last in line, looked a real
mess. When the Irish arrived, they were much happier, but Lynch seemed still out of it.
Only then did Hermione noticed that the poor elf that she had spotted when she entered the
box was still there. And still shaking terribly. Hermione frowned. Had the owner forgotten his
elf? Hadn’t he known how afraid the creature was of heights? Were all elf owners as terrible
as Lucius?
She waved goodbye to Harry and promised to find him tomorrow. The only downside of
Lucius’ very good tickets was that the crowd was thick when they got out of the stadium,
hundreds of thousands of people were rowdy with celebrations: leprechauns were dancing,
really bad singing and lots of cackling.
As soon as they entered their tent, Narcissa cast a silencing charm to mute the noise around
them. “Shower and bed, you two.” She told them, leaving no space for discussion. Narcissa
let them explore the camp at night every night so far, but she had drawn the line when she
saw the chaos that was outside. Spirits were too high.
Showered and fed, Hermione and Draco were sitting cross-legged on the bed when they
heard the rising voices of Narcissa and Lucius.
“You said you weren’t going to participate,” Narcissa said, her voice was chilling.
“Cissy, you know I have to, you’ve seen how—”
“Put that thing away from me.” She hissed and both Hermione and Draco left the bed to hear
it better “I’ve been looking the other way all your meetings, but you are putting our family
reputation at risk. Let them do it, it has got to be enough.”
“You know he won’t see it like that, Cissy.” Lucius said, “This is going to be good for us, I
promise.”
They heard footsteps and quickly jumped back on the bed. The flap of the tent swished and
Hermione wondered whether it had been Lucius or Narcissa who had left.
The answer came seconds later, when Narcissa appeared in the room, looking stern. “Pack
your things, stay inside, we are leaving as soon as Effy is done.”
“What?”
“Did I stutter, Draco?”
“No, mother.”
Narcissa left their flap open and returned to her room. Hermione exchanged glances with
Draco before he shrugged. “I don’t know what’s going on with them lately.”
“What do you think they were talking about?”
Draco looked away, to the main flap that Lucius had just left. “I don’t know.”
“I will just go over to Harry’s really quick to say goodbye.” Hermione said, “I promised him
we’d meet tomorrow.”
“Granger—”
“I will be quick.”
She put on a jacket on top of her pyjamas and slid her shoes on as fast as she could. Outside,
the party was still going and the celebration had turned quite drunk. People swayed as they
moved and she bumped into two people before realising she had no idea where Harry’s tent
was. Hermione looked around, why did she get so desperate to see Harry now? She turned to
get back and saw that the tents looked all the same at night, the lamps didn’t do much for
visibility, not to mention that every two steps she had to push a drunk wizard away or dodge a
wand before some heavily impaired wizard cast something.
Hermione walked around, certain that she’d find the Malfoys’ tent. It was easily the biggest
one around and she couldn’t have gone that far.
Suddenly, the air seemed to change. Hermione felt the hair on her nape standing up. Every
noise in the campsite seemed to have changed. The singing had stopped. People were looking
at one another, they all seemed to be feeling the same thing as Hermione.
Someone screamed. They looked toward the scream and saw that something was moving
towards them. Hermione froze. It was a lot of somethings. People began running, literally
fleeing and Hermione got knocked on her shoulder as a man ran past her pulling his wife by
the hand.
The air was thick with smoke and Hermione gave a mute scream when she saw one of the
tents catch fire not that far from where she was. A flash of light illuminated the crowd and
Hermione saw that it was a group of wizards moving together, they all had weird, pointy hats,
that looked like a black version of the KKK robes. Their faces were all covered in skull
masks. Above them, Hermione saw something that made her entire body freeze and fear
consumed her. Four struggling figures were being contorted into grotesque shapes, floating
along in midair. They were marionettes being controlled by the dark wizards. Two of them
were children.
She didn’t need anyone to tell her who those wizards were. She recognised the people
floating above them as the muggles that managed the campsite and were being Obliviated all
the time for the past two weeks.
Death Eaters. Voldemort’s group of followers.
People were joining the Death Eaters, jeering and roaring with laughter as the wife was
turned upside down and her dress fell to her face, she struggled to try to cover herself.
Hermione felt paralysed. Why no one was doing anything? Why there were so many people
joining them?
More tents were set on fire, many were being trampled and Hermione forced herself to run,
following the others who were rushing through the woods.
“Hermione!” She heard and whirled around.
“Harry!”
“What are you doing?”
“I was coming to see you, but I got lost and now—”
Another explosion came. “Let's go!” Harry tugged her by the sleeve and they both resumed
running, this time hand in hand.
Ron tripped and fell, Hermione cast Lumos to help them see it better, they found the elf from
the box walking around a little bit stunned. Almost like she had been drugged.
“There is bad wizards about!” The elf squeaked and tried very hard to keep running. “People
high — high in the air! Winky is getting out of the way!” Every few steps, some invisible
force seemed to push her back and she struggled and panting, kept fighting the invisible
force.
“What’s up with her?” Ron asked.
“Bet she didn’t ask permission to hide—”
Hermione felt furious. “You know, house-elves get a very raw deal! It’s slavery, that’s what it
is! She was made to go up to the top of the stadium, and she was terrified, and now she's
bewitched that she can’t even run when they start trampling tents! Why doesn’t anyone do
something about it?” She asked. Hermione knew she tended to babble when she was nervous
and this was a very good example. But honestly, why no one was doing anything for those
who really needed it?
“Well, the elves are happy, aren’t they?” Ron said, “House-elves is not supposed to have fun,
they like being bossed around.”
“I will boss you around and see if you like that. No one likes being bossed around.” She said
hotly, “It’s people like you, Ron, who prop up rotten and unjust systems, just because they’re
too lazy to —”
“I found you!” Draco gasped, appearing in front of her, his eyes were wide and crystal grey.
“Draco.”
“Mother is furious. We’ve got to go, Hermione.” He told her and they both flinched when
another tent went up in the air in flames. “I don’t want them finding you here.”
“She's not a muggle-born anymore Malfoy,” Harry snarled, “She's my sister.” Her heart
expanded. It was the first time she heard him acknowledging their relationship since that
night on the Shack.
“Which only makes things worse for her now.” Draco bit back. “Let's go.”
“Where are your mummy and daddy?” Ron asked bitingly. Hermione felt Draco’s finger
pressing harder against her arm.
“Are they out there in masks?” Harry asked, temper quickly gone. “That's how you knew you
needed to get her out?”
“Draco,” she murmured because she was very well aware of the tell tales of his own mask.
He ignored her. Put on his worst smile. “Well… If they were, I wouldn’t be likely to tell you,
would I, Potter?”
Which told her that Lucius was among them. Narcissa’s and Lucius’ argument made sense
now.
Draco pulled her again, this time hard and she looked behind her to see both Harry and Ron
glaring at Draco’s back. They kept walking fast, Draco’s palm was cold on hers.
“Draco,” she tried.
“Don't ask questions now.”
“But—”
“Let's go home. Where no one can overhear us.”
They were away from the riot, the wood deep and dark around them, drunks were stumbling
and the chaos from the Death Eaters was background noise now.
And then something vast, green, and glittering erupted from the woods, close to where she
had been with Harry and Ron. A colossal skull, comprised of what looked like emerald stars,
with a serpent protruding from its mouth like a tongue, rose higher and higher, a haze of
greenish smoke around it.
It was the Dark Mark.
Draco stumbled. His eyes were wide and as bright as the moon. Everyone screamed. Panic
returned immediately and she could hear hundreds of cracks of Apparition. Someone was
being sick close to her, she turned and found that Draco was the one bent over, puking.
“Draco!” She called and rushed to help him. Hermione put one of her hands on his back,
stroking it. The other she rested on his forehead, pushing his hair back. “What's wrong?”
“I—”
“Thank Merlin I found you two!” Narcissa appeared in front of them. In a single flick of her
wand, she cleaned Draco’s sick and grabbed both of them in each hand. Before Hermione
could process a single thing, they were all gone.
Chapter End Notes
Please let me know in the comments what you guys think!
Updates come on Fridays.
The title and the quotes in the beginning belong to Devil Town by Cavetown
you soon find you have few choices
Chapter Notes
Hello!!
Firstly, thank you so much for everyone that has commented and read this story so far! I
immensely appreciate it.
Secondly, Fourth year is getting a bit too big, I hope you all can bear it with me.
Hope you enjoy!
The characters don't belong to me, they belong to the original author of the books.
All you have is your fire

And the place you need to reach
Don't you ever tame your demons
But always keep 'em on a leash
Chapter Twenty-Four
Narcissa didn’t wait for them to get acquainted with the marble on their feet. “What were you
thinking?” She asked. Draco, on Hermione’s side, was still looking a bit sick. “I gave two
simple orders. Pack your things. Stay inside. What part of what I said was too difficult for
you two to understand?” Hermione had seen her mother angry, her father as well. Their anger
was in reddened faces and loud voices, exasperated huffs and wild hand gestures. Narcissa
was hard edges and controlled fury. Her tone didn’t rise, her hands remained on her sides.
Hermione couldn’t even look up from her mudded shoes that were dripping on the marble
floor. “It wasn’t a rhetorical question.”
Draco spoke first, “Hermione left.” He said, throwing Hermione under the bus in great
Slytherin fashion. “I went to find her.”
“Why did you leave?” Narcissa asked her.
“I wanted to say goodbye to Harry. I didn’t get to talk to him during the final.” She said, “I
got lost.”
“Of course you did. People were running everywhere. You could have been trampled. You
could have died. I told you expressly not to leave.”
Hermione finally looked up. There was worry in Narcissa's voice, it slipped out when
Narcissa’s sentences got longer. “You knew what was going to happen,” Hermione said.
Narcissa didn’t reply.
“You knew. That’s why you wanted to leave and why you didn’t want Uncle to go. Was he
there? Was he one of those people torturing the muggle family?” Hermione asked, horrified.
Draco flinched. Narcissa didn’t move. Her face didn’t betray her not even for a millisecond.
It was true then, Narcissa had to be an amazing Occlumens.
“Lucius had to leave because he had a job to do.”
“That's his job then? Torture? Murder?” Hermione dared. It was different now. She was older.
She was Harry’s sister. Asking if Lucius Malfoy was a Death Eater today, after what she had
just seen, was very different than when she asked him last summer when Sirius escaped.
Death Eaters were something real, something that was out there right now and had more
people joining them than running away.
“The world isn’t that black and white Hermione.”
“For those people upended in the air tonight it was.”
“Draco, leave us for a moment darling,” Narcissa said and Hermione gulped. Draco remained
stuck in place. “Since you left earlier after I expressly said not to, I thought this time it would
be easier to follow.” She added. Draco looked at Hermione for what she thought it would be
for the last time by his expression and turned to leave. "Follow me,” Narcissa added.
Narcissa didn’t wait to see if Hermione had understood and turned to the direction opposite
the one Draco had gone. Hermione followed.
They left the parlour and went through the door that led to the drawing-room. Hermione
realised that despite staying at the Manor for weeks at a time, she hadn’t spent much time in
the drawing-room. It was too impersonal. Hermione didn’t like how empty it felt even though
there were a couple of dark green, almost black velvet chaises, as well as the large fireplace
that worked as the Floo on one side and the enormous dining table on the other side. The
marble on her feet seemed cold and the sound of their steps was clinquant.
“This is the heart of the Manor,” Narcissa told her. “Many wings were built, burned down,
remodelled, but this room is still part of the original house. You are standing in the same
place where William the Conqueror shook Armand Malfoy’s hand nine hundred and twenty-
eight years ago.”
“Why is this relevant?”
“Because Malfoy men have always acted to get what they want. Armand was as much of a
blood purist as every other Malfoy since him. The same hands that gave William England
were the ones that killed him in France. Armand didn’t like how William governed, so he put
someone else on the job. Sanctimonia Vincet Semper. The Malfoys have been playing the
game for millennia, and they haven’t always been on the right side of history, but they have
always come out of it victorious.” Narcissa told her. Hermione didn’t need to translate Latin,
she knew the Malfoy family motto quite well. “The lion cannot protect himself from traps,
and the fox cannot defend himself from wolves. One must therefore be a fox to recognise
traps, and a lion to frighten wolves.” Narcissa finished.
“Machiavelli,” Hermione said. Narcissa gave a smile. It wasn’t kind. Hermione added, “It's
not right. The ends don’t justify the means. You can’t put on a cloak and mask and commit
atrocities so the lion doesn’t eat you.”
“I wouldn’t call the Dark Lord a lion, he’s more of a Boa constrictor. Coiling around you,
binding your body and squeezing you, waiting for your every exhale, just so it can squeeze
you a little harder.”
“Until you die of suffocation,” Hermione finished, “I've been to the zoo. I know how a Boa
constrictor kills. You can’t escape after they trapped you.”
“So you understand,” Narcissa said.
“Uncle Lucius believes that muggle-borns are inferior wizards and witches. He hates
muggles. I know you do it as well. He has willingly stepped inside the snake’s hold.”
“There’s a difference between believing that both worlds would only benefit from being kept
apart and killing muggles.”
“Right now, it doesn’t look like it has any difference.”
Something passed through Narcissa’s eyes, an expression that Hermione couldn’t quite grasp,
but that it looked a lot like sorrow. “And when the Dark Lord returns, the difference won’t
matter.” Narcissa took a step forward and for the first time, Hermione noticed that Narcissa
wasn’t all that taller anymore. The Malfoy matriarch carried herself in a way that she always
seemed regal, untouchable. It took soft hands on each of Hermione’s shoulders and worried
eyes for Hermione to see that Narcissa was real and touchable after all. “You are part of
history now, Hermione. There have been whispers for the past few years, murmurs in the
dark, shadows in the woods. The Missing Sister has been found and it has made some people
restless. Things have been set into motion. The same Mark that was in the sky tonight was
over your house almost fourteen years ago. It’s the first time the mark was seen since.”
Narcissa told her, Hermione felt a chill all over her body. “In times like these, there is nothing
more important than appearing religious. Some sides don't allow you to stand aside, much
less switch.”
“That won’t ever be my side.” She told Narcissa. Hermione wasn’t quite sure how she drew
strength to make that statement without shaking, but she was glad she did. “I will never stand
for that.”
“Good.” Narcissa surprised her by saying, “Listen to me, Hermione. You feel too much. You
carry your emotions on your sleeve. You can’t do that anymore.”
Hermione thought back on all the times that one Malfoy or the other drew on the mask of
indifference and coldness, wearing it like a blanket. “It's Occlumency,” she said. “That's how
you all hide everything.”
This time, Narcissa’s smile was honest. “Draco hasn’t been formally instructed yet, but he’s a
natural, he won’t have any trouble when his time to learn comes. But you are right, it’s
Occlumency.”
“That's why you want to teach it to me,” she said.
“You need to protect yourself. The mind is the most important thing for a wizard or a witch.
You lose it, you lose all that you are.”
“Why am I still here?” Hermione asked, “I've accused Uncle of murder, I told you I won’t
stand for what you two believe, why are you still offering to teach me and not simply erase
my memory and send me packing?”
Narcissa took hold of a strand of unruly brown hair and tucked it behind Hermione’s ear.
“Because you are still here. Because even after tonight you still trust me and trust Lucius
enough to keep calling him uncle. Because I want to protect you and protect my family from
what people will tell you about us.” Narcissa sighed, “I can’t defend my husbands’ actions,
nor I will try. He made a decision many years ago and as his wife, I could only follow him. I
had lost something to the war and I didn’t want to lose the man I loved. You have to know
what you fight for, whom you fight for. This is the most important thing.”
Hermione thought of Harry, who has had trial after trial ever since he came to Hogwarts, she
thought of Remus who spent thirteen years alone feeling like he had been betrayed by the
ones he loved the most, she thought of Sirius who spent thirteen years in Azkaban for a crime
he didn’t commit. She thought of Theo who got on the train broken and bruised last year but
still held her hand and called her best friend. And of course, she thought of Draco, whose
white-blond hair practically gleamed in the sunlight, whose features Hermione no longer saw
as pointy, but chiselled, she thought back on how a few hours ago he was puking at the mere
sight of the Dark Mark, who had promised to be a better person, who had told her he didn’t
want to take any more steps towards that mask. And of course, she thought of herself. This
was the world where she belonged. Muggle-born or half-blood, Hermione Granger or Renné
Potter, she didn't care. Before her letter, before her group of friends down in the dungeons,
she never felt like she fit in, but now she did. Now she wanted to achieve everything that she
knew she could have. Voldemort's world would make no place for her, she wouldn't have it.
“Since last year,” Hermione started, “I began to think that your affections for me were some
misplaced thing due to your stranded relationship with your sister and your niece.” She told
Narcissa. “I thought you were trying to find redemption through me.” She shook her head,
“but you and uncle Lucius always knew that I wasn’t a muggle-born. Theo told me you have
wards against muggle-borns in the Manor.”
“There are indeed wards in the Manor and I have indeed known who you are for as long as
Severus has. But do not think Hermione, that my affection for you is misplaced. I don’t have
the misconception that I can atone for my sins with my sister through you. I’m afraid the time
for that has been long gone.”
Hermione nodded, in part relieved that this, their relationship hadn’t been a complete lie.
Hermione’s relationship with her own mother was at risk now and she didn’t want to lose
Narcissa as well. “I know whom I will fight for,” Hermione said at last.
“One day, sooner than later, we are going to be standing on opposite sides,” Narcissa told her
and Hermione could swear she saw water pooling in Narcissa’s eyes, “One day, you might
completely lose your trust in the man I married and that now you call Uncle, but I want you
to know that we will always reach for you, that true harm will never come to you from him.
Remember that.”
Hermione gave another nod, she could feel her own tears threatening to escape. “But he
won’t find tolerance from me.”
“I know.”
Narcissa didn’t say anything else and Hermione took it as a dismissal. This conversation had
drained her. She hadn’t felt this onslaught on her mind since the events at the Shrieking
Shack. Was it possible that she had inherited all of Harry’s bad luck now that she had gained
awareness of her biological family?
Hermione went to her room and found Draco sitting on the edge of her bed. Crookshanks was
curled next to him and miraculously, allowing Draco to pet him. Draco shot up the moment
he saw her. “Why did you take so long?” He asked her, his eyes were wide, anxious. It
reminded her how he looked that day by the lake, over a year ago, he had the same
expression.
“I’ve just realised,” she blurted, “that I never said it.”
“What?” He asked, Draco was looking at her like she had lost her marbles.
“I forgive you.” She said. He cocked his head to the size, looking at her in confusion. “For
what you said during our second year. I forgive you.”
His expression changed. There was a ghost of a smile lurking on his features, she saw it by
the small twitches in the corner of his mouth. Draco took a step closer to her and Hermione
could swear the air changed. Merlin, why it was so hard being this close to him now? He
looked like someone who got a Christmas present early. Had he been waiting for her explicit
forgiveness? Had he spent last year thinking she hadn’t forgiven him yet?
“Thank you, for forgiving me.” He replied and she nodded, quite dumbly with the way he
was looking at her. Hermione needed to go to sleep. Too much had happened in the last few
hours. She needed to sleep and think over everything Narcissa had said and how Hermione
would react upon seeing Lucius in the morning. “Hermione,” he called, “what did my mother
say to you?”
“He's going to return. The Dark Mark in the sky tonight was enough of a warning.” She told
him and saw Draco gulping. Worry had returned to his expression. She hesitated, Draco
searched for the rest in her expression. Sighing, Hermione continued. "Soon, choices will
have to be made and sides won’t be so easily crossed,” she looked down, saw his hand
hanging next to his body and carefully reached for his wrist. He was the one to turn his hand
and hold her hand. For a moment, they looked down at their joined hands. “I told your
mother that I won’t stand for what your father does.”
“I know.” He replied, his voice just as quiet as hers.
“Voldemort killed my biological parents, Draco. One day we will be standing on different
sides.”
She was still looking at their joined hands and saw how he squeezed it and intertwined their
fingers. “Look at me,” he whispered. Shakily, she obeyed. They were very, very close. The
air was charged around them. “Not the two of us.” Again, Hermione felt tears threatening to
spill, she had been holding them back all night. It wasn’t a surprise that they spilled while
looking at the ocean that was Draco’s eyes. “Granger, I meant what I said that day by the
lake.”
Hermione nodded and without thinking too much into it, she wrapped her arms around his
waist and held him tight, her cheek pressed against his chest. Belatedly, she realised it was
the first time they actually hugged. She had been hugging Harry, Blaise and Theo for years
now, but she had never gotten to feel the way his arms came to rest around her shoulders and
he lowered his cheek to press against the top of her hair. “I was so scared tonight,” She
mumbled on his chest. He squeezed her.
“Me too,” He whispered, “I thought I wouldn’t find you.”
“You did.”
“Are you going to leave?” Draco asked her. Maybe it was wishful thinking, maybe she could
hear more than his heart beating inside his chest and what he really meant to say was: are you
going to leave me?
“Not tonight,” She said. For the first time in a long time, she was scared of facing his father.
The man she had tried to get a reaction out of countless times, was truly a man who could
hang muggles in the air and burn tents with people inside. It seemed impossible that the
Lucius she knew inside of these walls really existed. She pulled away, so she could say the
next bit while looking at him. “I want to talk to him, but I don’t think I can stay here after
tonight. Enough is enough, Draco.”
Hermione thought he’d be mad, that he’d bristle and try to defend his father. She thought
he’d push her away. Draco did none of those things. Instead, Draco Malfoy, pureblood and
the sole heir of the Malfoy fortune pulled her again to his chest and whispered in her hair: “I
won’t forgive him if he takes you away from me.” Her entire body froze in his grip and she
was certain she was going to explode when she felt his lips on her hair. “Goodnight,
Granger.”
And just like that, he was gone from her room.
If he takes you away from me.
Merlin. It was in times like these that she hated wizarding lack of technology because she
wanted nothing more than to call either Blaise or Theo and squeal on their ears through the
telephone.
…
When morning came, Hermione was too embarrassed to face Draco and too scared to face
Lucius. She wondered if they would bother if she didn’t leave her room for the day.
Crookshanks eyed her like she was pathetic.
She could ask—no. After the event’s of last night, she would never ask anything of an elf. It
was pure slavery, that was what it was. She couldn’t believe how blasé Weasley had been of
the creature, the poor elf had been frightened to be up there and then physically incapable to
run away amidst all of the chaos. Yes, she would do something about it. Dobby had been
badly mistreated, what was to say that another elf wasn’t receiving the exact same treatment
from Lucius? How many elves did the Malfoys have? She knew of Dipsy and Flickt, the two
elves were always appearing and disappearing with their plates and their belongings.
Hermione was certain there were more. She had spotted at least three taking care of the
grounds once.
Decided, she opened her door and shot in direction of the kitchen, only to realise that she had
no idea where the kitchen was. Even if she wanted, it would do no good to ask Draco, for she
was certain the boy hadn’t been to his kitchen before either.
It wasn’t on the ground floor, that Hermione was certain. She had explored every single door
there and hadn’t found it. Maybe it was underground, tucked away from the rest of the house,
where no one could see all the slavery happening in that huge manor.
It took Hermione a while, but she did find the kitchen. On the main dining room, there was a
small door, almost hidden from view that led to a very narrow staircase to the lower floor,
carefully, Hermione went down.
The Malfoy family indeed had more than two elves.
Around a dozen elves were busying themselves in the kitchen. They were all in apparent
different ages, there were a few young and quite a few old. Hermione frowned.
The elves spotted her at once, not used to the presence of a witch or wizard there. They
gasped and soon were asking if she wanted something, all desperate to serve. She felt slightly
sick when one tripped in the haste to bow to her.
“Miss!” She recognised Dipsy, “what is miss doing down here? Miss wants her breakfast,
Dipsy can give you! Miss tells the others how kind Miss is and they don’t believe me.”
“No, I don’t need anything. I was just—” she stopped, for nine pairs of wide rounded eyes
were staring at her anxiously, waiting for an order.
“All of you are elves of the manor?” She asked.
They all nodded and began to tell her about their service, one of them had been born right
there, it even pointed to the corner of the kitchen where his mother birthed him. Another told
Hermione that she left when the house at Grimmauld Place became empty and Kreacher -
whoever that was - became too nasty. Another was very proud to be serving the manor for the
past eighty years and never having his hands burned. A few weren't so lucky and showed
Hermione their burned hands and scabs over scabs, older ones beneath newer ones.
“Hermione dear, what are you doing in the kitchen?” She heard behind her and again, all the
elves squealed and rushed to their Mistress.
“I was—”
“Come,” Narcissa said, “breakfast has been served and we were waiting on you.”
Hermione nodded. She was going to have to face them anyway.
Draco and Lucius were already seated at the table and Hermione tried her best not to show
how much Lucius unnerved her. But it wasn’t necessary. He didn’t even raise his head from
his eggs. Draco nodded at her in greeting and she tried a small smile before sitting next to
him. She had no intention to be anywhere near his father.
Breakfast was a silent affair. Narcissa didn’t try to make small talk, because she too seemed
nervous and generally displeased with her husband. The food was good as always, but
Hermione didn’t feel very hungry now that she knew it came from forced work.
That, Narcissa didn’t fail to comment. “Is the food not to your tastes this morning, dear?
“Of course, I’m just not very hungry.” She told her.
Finally, what felt like Hermione’s longest breakfast ended. Narcissa excused herself and left
the room without a single glance at her husband. Lucius didn’t make eye contact with either
of them. Hermione and Draco shared a look and they both quickly left to avoid whatever that
was.
They went to the garden, Hermione picked up a book on Magical Creatures on the way to
read a little bit more on house-elves, while Draco went to grab his broom to fly for a bit. He
invited her to a spin with him and she denied begrudgingly because, after last night, she
didn’t want to be pressed against his back up in the air, lest she squeezed him a bit too tight.
Halfway through the book, an elf popped and Hermione gulped. It was Lucius’ new personal
elf. Hermione didn’t know its name. Draco recognised it because he dived from where he was
and landed next to her in a heartbeat.
“Master Lucius wishes to see Miss Hermione,” The elf said.
“What does he want with her?” Draco asked and Hermione watched him growing tall next to
her. When he made use of his surname in his actions, his boyish features disappeared and she
could see the beginnings of a very well sculpted young man.
“He hasn’t told Tolby, Master Draco,” The elf said, “He told me to fetch Miss Hermione.”
Fetch.
“You are not fetching Hermione anywhere,” He snapped. Hermione touched his arm, he
turned to her, “Hermione—”
“He's not going to do anything to me, Draco.” She said and nodded to the elf. “I will follow
you to see Uncle Lucius.”
“Thank you, Miss.”
Hermione followed the elf back inside. She hadn’t been to Lucius office yet, and she was
certain it was there that the elf was taking her because once they got up the main staircase,
the elf turned in the direction of Lucius and Narcissa's wing of the manor.
“Master Lucius waits for you,” the elf told her when they reached a tall, dark mahogany door.
It was much similar to the other doors in the manor, hers didn’t differ much from this one, but
she certainly didn’t get a sense of foreboding from standing in front of it.
“Thank you, Tolby.”
The elf apparated away and Hermione decided to get it over with quickly. If she took too
long, Draco might think his father had done something to her. She hoped Lucius wouldn’t do
anything to her. Hermione knocked and only opened the door when she heard the quiet come
in from inside.
Lucius’ office was beautiful, that was the first thing she noticed. The flooring was the same
dark mahogany of the shelves and the wonderful dickens desk in the middle of the room. A
deep green tapestry covered most of the floor and its green matched the pieces of decoration
inside his office. Thankfully, there wasn’t any death eater mask on display, but—“Is that
William the Conqueror’s sword?” She blurted, incapable of keeping her mouth shut.
“Jam Accepisse Regnum” Lucius replied in perfect Latin, well, she guessed it was perfect
Latin, she had no idea how the language sounded, but if there was a wizard alive that would
know how to speak it, she would bet on him. “I have already grasped my Kingdom.”
“That should be in a museum.”
“Why?” He asked, “it's mine.”
“Historians would pay a fortune for it.”
“They already did.” He replied, “My ancestors used the doubling charm on it and sold it to a
collector.”
Of course, they did. “Geminio copies tarnish earlier than the original.”
“The sword wasn’t goblin made, it would have tarnished anyway.” He told her and pointed to
the chair in front of him, offering it to her. “I didn’t call you here to discuss my artefacts.”
Hermione sat down. She inspected the desk in front of her, it was so beautiful. She wanted to
touch the wood so badly but managed to control herself. On the desk, there were piles of
papers and envelopes, as well as a few account books.
“I received the first return of the investment you suggested.” He told her and slid a piece of
paper in her direction. There, she saw Lucius name beside Randolph Spudmore, who
Hermione now knew was the fabricator of the Firebolt. Quickly scanning through it,
Hermione saw that Lucius and Mr Spudmore had signed an agreement regarding the earnings
of the Firebolt. Lucius investment wasn’t what she had believed last year, there was one more
zero at the end of the number, amounting to a total of seventy thousand galleons to sponsor
fabrication and insure no goblin would walk out during manufacturing - Hermione guessed
that was a problem if it required its own extensive clause.
Mr Soudmore had agreed to give thirty-five per cent of the earnings for the first year of sales
and the first payment had come after the final. Hermione knew Lucius had bet on the
Bulgarians to win the World Cup, with all the meetings between the man and the Bulgarians
in the past year, but since both teams that got to the final were using the Firebolt, his
investment won the World Cup anyway.
Hermione found her name at the bottom of the page.
She looked at him. His face was impassive. He handed her a quill. “Out of the sixteen teams
that played in the world cup, nine teams used the Firebolt. And out of those nine, eight got
into the quarter-finals. Each team bought an average of two brooms per player. That’s almost
ninety-fine thousand galleons in sales just for the teams.” He told her and pointed at the
number on the paper.
She was glad he was actually pointing out because Hermione couldn’t quite believe her eyes.
“That's general sales?” She asked. Besides the astounding number of earnings directly from
the world cup players, there was an even higher one. Lucius nodded.
“The firebolt has been in the market for a little over one year and according to our numbers
from the year alone, we have every reason to believe that the Firebolt will continue to be the
biggest broom in the market for many years to come. Every team in Britain and Ireland have
put in orders for the Firebolt and we got orders from other leagues as well. I got thirty-five
per cent of the sales for the first year. We decided that I would keep with yearly investments,
of course, nothing so generous as my first offer, and in return, I will get ten per cent of all
sales for as long as production continues.”
That was a lot of money. Much more money than the fifteen per cent she had made him agree
over breakfast last year when she thought she was agreeing on fifteen per cent of seven
thousand galleons.
Lucius’ thirty-five per cent had given him a profit of almost twenty-five thousand galleons.
“And fifteen per cent is mine?” She asked, dumbly. Certainly, this wasn’t legal. He couldn’t
put her name as a business associate, could he? She hadn’t even turned fifteen, for Merlin’s
sake! Didn’t she need her parents’ authorisation for these kinds of things? Or did the
wizarding world differ in these things? She would have to read on that urgently.
“Yes, that was what we agreed.” He told her. Hermione still held the quill in her hand. The
only reason why it hadn’t dripped on the paper was that it was charmed to not do it so.
Three thousand, five hundred galleons. She had won three thousand, five hundred galleons
after a suggestion made over eggs and toast.
“What's the catch?” She asked. Lucius smirked. She felt trapped.
“There's no catch, Hermione.” He said, his nose wrinkling in disgust at the word catch.
Apparently, it was offensive to him. “We made a deal, it proved to be fruitful, I honoured my
side of it.”
“Are you trying to buy my silence regarding the events of yesterday?”
Lucius leaned back, his smirk turned into a smile, and Hermione shivered. “I don’t need to
buy your silence, but we are going to discuss that after we finish this. Please, sign.”
Hermione pulled her wand from her pocket and cast the spell she had learned last year when
she decided to search for what kind of spell had been cast on Voldemort’s diary to allow it to
write back and show people’s its memories. She hadn’t found anything on it, but she found
some interesting spells to reveal ill-intent on pages and contracts. There was no better time to
test it than now.
“You never cease to surprise, do you?” Lucius asked after her spell showed that indeed, there
was "no catch” between the lines. Hermione signed and handed him back the quill and the
document. She stared at him. Lucius smiled again. “Now, you are quiet.”
“You were there yesterday.”
“I was.”
“You hurt people.”
“So did the trampling.”
“Because they were running away from you,” Hermione said exasperated. “You support a
murderer. The man that killed my biological parents.”
“You've always known that.” He told her, “Yet, every year you were back here.”
Yes. Harry asked her exactly that all the time. What were her excuses then? They aren’t evil,
Harry. That wasn’t true anymore, was it? “I won’t tolerate it anymore.”
“Yes, my wife told me what you said.”
“She’s not very happy with you at the moment.”
“No, she’s not.”

“Are you going to say anything of consistency or we are just going to have this back and
forth?”
“You have yet to ask me anything of consistency. I expected more from the greatest witch of
her age.”
Hermione glared at him. Honestly, how did Narcissa survived a single conversation with her
husband was beyond Hermione.
He didn’t want consistency, no, he wanted the real questions. But was he willing to answer
those?
“Why are you his follower?” She asked.
“He's going to make our world right.”
“Your world.” Hermione corrected. “And what’s right? Chaos and violence? Fear?”
“If this is what it takes.” He replied. Again, Machiavelli. Hermione wondered if he was a
wizard and Hermione didn’t know. “Muggles have no place in our society.” He added.
“And they don’t.” She reminded him. “It's not like the Secrecy doesn’t exist or anything.”
“Muggle-borns shouldn’t be treated as if they were proper wizards and witches.”
“Did it pain you to pretend you had allowed a muggle-born into your house?”
“Extensively.”
She shook her head. “Such a powerful man and such frivolous worries.”
“You don’t know power, Hermione. The Dark Lord will bring us all glory.”
“He brought death to my parents.” She said. “I don’t want anything from him.”
Lucius looked like he was going to argue but then changed his mind. He said instead, “He's
going to be interested in you, you know that, don’t you?”
She refused to let it show how much that comment unnerved her. “Are you going to hand me
over on a silver platter? Like you’ve been trying to do with my brother?”
“If I wanted any harm to come to you or if I wished you dead, I’d have done so the first time
you accused me of being a Death Eater in front of my wife and son.”
She remembered the day he came to her rescue. She remembered Narcissa’s words from
yesterday. “I wasn’t wrong.”
“No.” He shook his head. “You never are.” Lucius leaned over, resting his elbows on the
mahogany. Hermione finally read what was on the documents. It was the deeds of various
properties in Lucius’ name. “Are you going to tell, Hermione? Are you going to tell your
little brother and everyone else that I was there?”
There was a dare in there. She knew it. Hermione couldn’t take it. And by looking at the
papers on his desk, he wasn’t taking it either.
“Who cast the Dark Mark on the sky, uncle?” She asked and watched. His jaw clicked. His
left eye twitched. He wasn’t prepared for that. “You don’t know, do you?” She asked, a smirk
forming on her lips. “That last bit wasn’t on the schedule for last night, was it?”
“All these rhetorical questions, do you really need the answer?” He evaded. Hermione
realised that Draco had learned this particular skill from his father.
“I have one more.” She said, feeling bold. “Is that why you are signing away all your
properties?” She asked. Lucius looked down at the papers and then up at her. He leaned back
on his chair. A pleasant smile on his face. Merlin, what an abnormal thing to witness, being
the receiver of Lucius Malfoy’s pride.
“It was supposed to be a ruse. A play. Dust out the costume and the mask.” He told her.
Hermione wondered how many people were privy to that confession. “The mark has been
acting up,” he said, looking at his left arm, hidden by the long sleeve of his robes. “I couldn’t
be caught doing nothing. I have to lead an example.”
“What a great example.” She said sarcastically.
He ignored her, “This time, Hermione, it’s going to be different,” He said instead, “I can feel
it. This time we are going to be victorious. Didn’t you see what happened last night?” He
asked her and a shiver went through her body. She had seen. “How many people joined us?”
He smiled. She hated it. “This time will be different and my family is going to be honoured
above all.”
Hermione wanted to vomit. But instead, she asked again: “That's why you are signing away
all your properties? Don’t want to risk an Estate to the price of the membership?”
“My wife is already quite cross with me, I prefer not to anger her any further.” He said. By
now, she knew it was only a half-truth. The Malfoys negotiated in many currencies, but never
in truth.
“Merlin forbids you to lose a Greek island or two,” She said, sarcasm dripping from her
tongue.
Lucius appreciated it. “That would be incredibly upsetting to her,” Lucius agreed. “That's
why I’m passing the deeds to every property under my name to my future granddaughter.”
Hermione spluttered. What? She felt her face redden and couldn’t help all the many images
running through her mind of Draco being a father of a little girl. Was it going to be Pansy?
Had he decided to follow through with the betrothal anyway? Lucius was quite amused by
her reaction. “The Malfoy lineage is legendary—” she had to contain her eye roll at that, “and
known to give out male heirs. I’m certain it will take a while before anyone can claim the title
of any of our properties.”
“So you are going to put Draco in danger, instead?” She asked, suddenly infuriated. “What if
they force him to make heirs until they get a little girl, what if—”
“Hermione we are not the savages here.” He said with a chuckle. “But of course, I have
already taken care of all of that,” Lucius told her and pointed to a pile of already signed
papers. “No children born out of wedlock or by forced conception will be entitled to a single
pine that falls within my properties. A man who has to take his woman by force is not
worthy.” Well, at least they could agree on that. How lovely.
“I don’t like it.” She said.
Lucius scoffed. “Are you my financial advisor now?” Hermione merely glared at him.
“Draco is safe. I wouldn’t put him in danger. As soon as I sign this and take it to Gringotts,
once the goblins legitimise it, they will cast a spell on the paper so I forget the requirements
to achieve possession. No way to trace it back.” He quirked an eyebrow. “Thinking now, I
might have to take you with me.”
“No.” She said, shaking her head. “You are telling me this because you want me to know.
You want to make me a liability.” He gave her another smile.
“What a bright thing you are.” He told her.
He likes you. Draco had told her when they were at the greenhouses in the summer right after
the Chamber of Secrets. It was true, Lucius Malfoy did like her. In the weird, twisted way of
his.
“So what? I will be the only person to know and when the time comes, I will simply let
Draco know that he has to father a daughter to be able to move the family assets?”
“Precisely.” He replied. “You just have to be sure to keep that information quite safe. The
Dark Lord is not averse to torturing to get things out of people, if he gets his hands on you—”
Lucius tsked, honest to god tsked, “he might learn a thing or two. Better pay attention to my
wife’s teachings, we don’t want anything happening to Draco now, do we?”
“You sly, conniving, little—”
“Ah, ah, let’s not start with the adjectives now.”
Hermione got up. She should have done so ages ago. In fact, she should have never sat down.
Merlin, she knew so much, she knew enough to send him to prison. They both knew that she
wouldn’t. Maybe they had different reasons - Hermione would never learn all the many webs
in which the Malfoy patriarch lay - but if they had at least one thing in common - besides
their shared opinion on rape - was that neither of them wanted any harm to ever come to
Draco and Narcissa. If Lucius Malfoy was making previsions to keep his family’s assets in
their possession, it was because he believe his lord would take interest in them. A locked up
Lucius Malfoy couldn't protect Narcissa and Draco if Voldemort wanted to come over.
“I have no place here anymore.” Her voice shook slightly as she said it. She loved the manor
so much, Hermione sometimes would go as far as to say that she loved it more than the
castle. The Manor felt hers sometimes, when it was only her in the vast library, or when the
light came in rainbows through the enormous murals windows. It felt hers when she returned
every summer and Christmas to her own bedroom and bookshelves. “You proudly work for
someone who either killed or would kill my family. I can’t ignore the disrespect to my
muggle parents any longer, nor can I stay knowing that you are in league with the person who
killed my biological parents and if returned, will want to kill my brother and quite possibly,
to kill me.” She told him and turned to leave.
Lucius didn’t say anything else and she didn’t want to hear any more from him. Hermione
left his office and found herself in front of Draco and Narcissa, both of them looking quite
worried. She startled.
“Are you all right?” Draco asked, “what did father want?”
“To talk about the investment on the brooms. He paid me back.” She scowled. Draco seemed
relieved and Narcissa looked dubious.
“Are you still going to leave?” He asked her.
“Yes.” She said. Hermione looked away when his face fell. There was no bigger fault to her
resolution than the endless grey and blue on Draco’s eyes. “Unfortunately, we disagree on
some basic values that I’m afraid we can’t reconcile.”
“Hermione, please—” Draco started.
She grabbed his hand and squeezed, before noticing that Narcissa was still very much
standing there and looking at their joined hands. “We will see each other on the train.” She
told him after letting go of his hands. She wanted to say so much but couldn’t with Narcissa
standing right there. “Not the two of us,” Hermione said instead, reminding him of the
promise he made last night.
“I know where you can go,” Narcissa said, after watching their interaction intently. Hermione
wondered if Narcissa would change her mind about betrothals if she learned that Hermione
was quite possibly in love with her son. “I assume you don’t want to go to your muggle
parents.” She said. Hermione nodded. She missed them very much, but she couldn't face
them yet. Not with everything happening. They would know at once that something was
wrong and Hermione couldn't lie to them but she also couldn't tell them what she knew,
because what about everything else? “You can go to your godfather, Merlin knows it’s time
he takes his load,” Narcissa said with as much displeasure one could inflict in a sentence.
“And besides, I have some things to discuss with a common acquaintance. I will take you
there. Pack your things.”
Hermione nodded. Narcissa's reaction felt odd. Hermione thought that she’d look a bit
unhappy with the news or would try to argue against Hermione’s decision. Instead, she was
met with sudden coldness and detachment.
Chapter End Notes

The title of the chapter and the quote at the beginning belong to Arsonist's Lullaby by
Hozier.
Please let me know what you think!
Update comes every Friday.

but little do we know, the stars welcome him with open arms
Chapter Notes
Hello!! I hope everyone has been well!

My semester has started again and I'm already drowning on things, who would have
thought that a master degree would be that taxing? lol
I hope you enjoy this one! I haven't had the time to reply to all the comments from the
last two chapters, but I promise I will go over them soon! I love replying to them.
I just wanted to tell that I've been somewhat ego-searching the fic on twitter and tiktok
and I love seeing you guys comment on it there as well, it makes my day.
he doesn't know how to communicate

his mind is in a different place
will everybody please give him a little bit of space?
get a load of this train wreck
Chapter Twenty-Five
Hermione felt rather uncomfortable standing at her former Defence Against the Dark Arts’
professor-turned-into-godfather’s porch. It didn’t have anything to do with side-apparating
because she had gotten quite used to that by now, but with the fact that she had her trunk in
one hand and the intention to stay over without asking his permission first.
Narcissa knocked on the door and not a second had passed before she began huffing in
annoyance. Remus opened the door and he didn’t look much friendlier than Narcissa. “What
are you doing here?” He asked. Hermione stepped away from behind Narcissa and offered a
small wave. His eyes widened and his entire expression changed.
He wouldn’t kick her out at least.
Hermione decided to answer that, “I don’t want to stay in the manor after Uncle’s
involvement with the event that took place during the final.” She said and watched Narcissa's
reaction. Nothing.
Remus smiled at her and offered a satisfied smirk to Narcissa. She glared at him. Hermione
was curious to know how those two knew one another and why they seemed to dislike each
other so much. Had they gone to school together? No. Narcissa was a few years older than
him, she had said that about her cousin. “You are more than welcome to stay, Hermione.” He
told her and she noticed that he seemed genuinely happy about that.
“I need to talk to my cousin,” Narcissa said, clearly annoyed. She looked inside the house but
made no move to enter. Remus noticed it too and chuckled.
“You are not talking to him under the threshold. You will have to come inside.” He told her.
“Here, let me take your stuff.” Remus offered and Hermione handed her trunk to him. She
followed him inside and watched, slightly amused, as Narcissa hesitated to enter. Hermione
let Crookshanks out of his cage and the cat quickly disappeared down the corridor.
Remus ignored the Malfoy wife and turned into host mode for Hermione. “It's quite small. I
doubt you remember but, that door over there leads to the kitchen and the corridor leads to
the bedrooms.” He pointed. It was true, it was indeed really small and she had no memory of
anything. His sofa and armchair didn’t match, he had a card box for a coffee table and a
plastic beer bottle crate as a TV stand. Narcissa had come inside, but she was still close to the
door and sniffing.
The dog came from the corridor and Hermione was happy to see it. It looked much cleaner
and healthier. There were no fleas or knots in its fur. The dog excitedly circled Hermione and
she laughed. “That's Padfoot,” Remus said with a smile. A true, honest smile.
“Hello Padfoot,” she said and patted its head. Narcissa made a sound that indicated just how
much she disapproved Hermione touching the animal. Padfoot grabbed Hermione by her
sleeve and pulled her towards the rooms.
“Where's my cousin, Lupin?”
“Just a moment, I will call him,” Remus replied amusedly. Hermione hid her giggle.
The three of them entered the first room and Sirius transformed at once. She smiled at him
and he smiled back. “Hermione, I’m so happy to see you.” He told her and held her face like
he had done that night she freed him. “I could barely thank you for that night.”
“I'm glad to see that you are okay.” She said.
“I am. It took me a while, but I could make my way back home.” He told her and Hermione
saw Remus’ face colour a little.
“I can hear your voice, Sirius Black, could you pretend to have just a little bit of manners, so
we can get this over with?”
Sirius rolled his eyes and Hermione laughed. He looked incredibly young doing that. “She is
just as unbearable as I remember.” He told Hermione, before strengthening up. Shrugging his
shoulders, almost as if preparing himself, he strode out of the room.
“I don’t know whether I want to be part of that conversation or if I want to hide here,” Remus
told her.
She chuckled and finally, took a look around. Hermione thought that the rooms would be
scarcely decorated as the rest of the house, but no. This room had every piece of furniture and
they all matched. There were two single beds and each bed had a night-table next to it. The
window separated both sides of the room. At the foot of the beds, there were two desks and
on the wall opposite to the window, the one behind her, there were two twin dressers.
Hermione recognised Harry in the pictures and guessed that she was the girl next to him.
There were a dozen photos of them, not only Harry and her but them with Remus and Sirius.
The one in the middle showed the six of them. A two-year-old Hermione was in Remus’
arms, while a barely one-year-old Harry was in Sirius’. She felt tears in her eyes. “It was the
last photo of all of us.” He told her, “Peter took it. Now, I’m thankful that he’s not in it.” She
nodded. “We had this room made when we moved, Sirius wanted the two of you to have a
place to come and stay over. It was the first part of the house that we got ready and then
everything happened and—” He sighed, “You saw the living room, I had to sell a few things
to make ends meet, but I just couldn’t—” His voice broke and Hermione felt her eyes filling
with water again. “I couldn’t touch anything in here.”
“It's lovely, I’m glad that you didn’t.” She told him, truthfully.
Sirius and Narcissa’s voices were getting louder in the living room and Hermione was
startled. She had yet to see Narcissa raise her voice. Remus sighed again and sat down on one
of the beds. Hermione sat on the other and decided to have it as her own.
“—I’m losing her already!” Narcissa yelled, “Can’t you see that? Did the dementors eat your
brains?”
“Don’t you dare talk about those things!” Sirius yelled back, “I know you, Cissy, why do you
even care?”
“Should we—” Hermione asked.
Remus shook his head. “They have a lot to go over, let’s leave them to have it out. If we hear
crashing, we pull them apart.”
Hermione doubted that it would come to that, but agreed with Remus. The voices in the
kitchen went low again and they couldn't hear anymore, “I'm sorry for showing up
unannounced. I wanted to leave the Manor and Aunt Cissy gave the idea.”
“Hermione, it’s honestly no trouble at all. It makes me really happy to have you here.”
“I wish Harry could be here as well,” she told him. “He would’ve liked that. Sirius had
invited Harry to live with him, Harry was so happy. It made him miserable when he realised
he had lost that after Pettigrew escaped.”
“I know. Sirius told me. We asked the Weasleys to allow Harry to come. But they refused,
Dumbledore’s orders.”
Hermione opened her mouth to reply, to give all the reasons why Dumbledore or the
Weasleys should have any say to that when Sirius exploded, “YOUR SISTER IS BARKING
MAD!”
“Let's go,” Remus said and they both went back to the living room. “Is too much to ask for a
civilised conversation between any member of the Black family?” Remus asked.
“Well,” Narcissa scoffed, “your boyfriend clearly can’t,” She said. There was an awkward
pause where Sirius and Remus looked between one another, colour painting both of their
cheeks and they looked away. Oh, Hermione thought. They haven’t gone over that yet.
Narcissa realised the same thing. “I see I'm not the only one you are overdue to a
conversation little cousin.” She said with a smile that was no nicer than the ones Draco
usually offered Harry or Ron.
“Have you said your piece?” Remus asked, “What did you even want with Sirius anyway?”
“She has a date at the Wizemgamont.” It was Sirius who replied. He didn’t look happy with
the information. “I have to send in my memories. They also need a witness from the night on
the Shack.”
“What's the catch?” Remus asked. Narcissa huffed.
“She wants Grimmauld Place to go to Draco.”
“And? You hate that place.” Remus replied but it seemed to be the wrong thing to say
because the right side of Narcissa’s lip curled up and Sirius glared at Remus.
“I want to give it to Harry and Hermione,” Sirius replied. Hermione gaped. “A place for
Harry to call his own after he leaves his aunt and uncle.” A scoff, “If the Weasleys let go of
him for long enough. And for Hermione as well, now that she has seen how unsavoury that
Manor is.”
“Your petulant, aggravating spoiled brat, I—”
“What about your grandparents’ house?” Remus said, cutting off Narcissa’s terms of
endearment. Both cousins looked at him with matching expressions of interest. Now that
Sirius had shaved, showered and cut his hair, it was much easier to see their similarities. But
it was still weird seeing them side by side. “To whom did that go?”
“To me,” Sirius said and sadness coloured his features. “It was supposed to go to Reg, but he
died and I’m almost certain it's mine now.”
Something passed in Narcissa’s eyes. Maybe it was Reg, whoever that was, and his death.
Maybe she was just thinking about the house and wondering if it was worth it.
“I will have the goblin’s check on that then.” Narcissa said then, “I expect your memories by
Monday morning.”
“I was there the entire time.” Hermione said, “You can have my memories.”
Hermione wasn’t expecting their reactions. Sirius looked proud and this, she could
understand. But Narcissa and Remus looked terrified. They even glanced at one another.
Sirius, however, missed all of that, he was still looking at Hermione. “Would you do that for
me?” He asked her.
“Of course.” She replied. “I broke you out of the Charms classroom flying a hippogriff,
giving you my memory will be easy.” She joked and he grinned, content.
“We have that settled then,” Narcissa said briskly. “I trust that between the pair of you, one
can teach her how to do it?” She asked, but her voice told all of them that she didn’t trust
either man to do it. Narcissa came to where Hermione was standing and ran her fingers on
Hermione’s hair. “This changes nothing, my dear. Always remember what I told you. We will
always reach for you.” Hermione nodded. “I will come by to teach you Occlumency and
check on you. Daily.” She added and Sirius rolled his eyes.
“What? Just because we don’t have thirty-two elves around that doesn’t mean we can’t take
care of a fourteen-year-old.”
“Of course, I can rest assured that a werewolf and an ex-convict will raise a teenage girl to
standards.”
This time, it was Remus who rolled his eyes. “All right, firstly, it’s two weeks, that hardly
counts as raising anyone. Secondly, I’d be careful about throwing the word ex-convict around
when clearly, the reason why Hermione is here has to do with your husband acting like a
future convict.”
Sirius barked a laugh that it was so similar to an actual dog bark that Hermione had to
concentrate really hard to not laugh as well and offend Narcissa.
“Curious,” Narcissa said to Remus, “how we always end up having the same argument.”
With a nod to her cousin and a kiss on Hermione’s cheek, Narcissa turned to leave.
“Have you thanked him yet?” Sirius called when Narcissa was almost at the door.
Remus let out a long sigh, “Just let her leave already,”
Narcissa turned and raised a single eyebrow at her cousin. “About?”
“It was his idea that got the two of us out of that betrothal,” Sirius said and Hermione felt her
jaw hitting the floor and her eyes almost jumping out of their sockets. They were what? “and
allowed you to marry the poncy git.”
Narcissa smiled, mean, cold and terrible. “He didn’t do it for me, little cousin.” And then she
finally left.
Remus turned to Sirius at once, “do you really have to try her like that?”
“She's not doing it out of the goodness of her heart Moony, you saw it.”
“Yeah, but she’s doing it. You are going to be free. Proper free.”
Sirius turned to Hermione, “she does care about you, though. All your conversations that I
overheard and every time I heard you call her Aunt Cissy, it felt wrong. I saw the picture of
you and the Malfoys at the World Cup Final. I don’t trust a single hair of any member of that
family. But she does care about you.” He smirked, “I got her to raise her voice. Merlin, it
was glorious.” He laughed, Remus dropped to the sofa in exasperation. “Moony, I still can
get Little Miss Perfect Prefect to lose her cool, that’s great.”
“That only shows how much of a pain in the ass you are,” Remus said, he had his arm
thrown over his face.
Hermione looked at the pair. Remus wasn’t looking, so Sirius took his fill in staring. They
haven't talked about it yet.
“Do all the pureblood have betrothals?” She asked, Sirius’ hungry look unnerved her.
“Ugh,” he shivered and dropped to the sofa next to Remus. “You fancy the boy, right? I
remember that.”
Hermione felt her cheeks glowing scarlet. “Please,” Remus begged, “At least pretend to have
some sense of decency.”
Sirius ignored, just winked at her. Hermione wondered how long Sirius had been there with
Remus and how did they avoid talking about their relationship status but seemed completely
fine with one another.
Remus chuckled. “I have to properly furnish this place now, Hermione can’t sit with us in the
living room because there is no bloody room for her.”
“Oh, no, don’t—”
“It's fine, I will use his money,” Remus said and got up. “Come, I will help you settle in.
Sirius, make us something edible to eat, or else Narcissa will send an elf to make sure we are
feeding Hermione.”
Sirius scowled and complained all the way to the kitchen. He called his cousin all sorts of
names. Hermione shook her head amusedly.
Back in the bedroom, Remus cast a few cleaning spells on the drawer and on the bed, to make
sure the sheets were clean and there were no small visitors inside. She watched him do it. “I
taught you for a year Hermione, I know when you want to ask a question.”
“It’s not my business.”
“But you knew, didn’t you? Even before Narcissa so kindly announced to the room?”
She hesitated. “At the shack. You were so ready to believe in him.” She said, Remus, looked
away. “And when you hugged him—”
“Yeah, you knew.” He said and squeezed her arm. “I will check on him, he has no idea how
to operate a muggle stove. Please, make yourself at home.”
Hermione nodded.
It was weird, that first meal together with the two of them. She realised that yes, they were
comfortable with one another because they had been best friends forever before it turned into
something else, but there were moments when Hermione couldn’t fathom what was that it had
been said or done that brought those long silences. But she saw how Sirius was always
looking and how Remus had been looking back.
The second night after she arrived, Snape’s potions arrived by owl minutes before Sirius
apparated both of them to somewhere far away from the house. Hermione spent the night
stroking Crooshanks’ fur and looking at the full moon through the window, thinking about the
transformation.
In the days that came, she learned a few things and started to collect the pieces of the puzzle.
Sirius had switched at the last minute and he hadn’t told Remus, because Sirius had doubted
Remus, had thought he was the traitor amidst them. And Remus, Remus had never visited,
had never questioned, he learned of Sirius’ betrayal and believed it and let it consume him
for the past thirteen years. Their problem was trust, they were trying to forgive one another
for not trusting each other. Somedays Hermione thought it went easier, somedays they
laughed for hours and played games and told her stories. Other days, other days Sirius
would remain in dog form for the entire day and Remus would look at Padfoot and scowl.
Narcissa came every day and their lessons were hard and Hermione cried during every
lesson. Sirius yelled at his cousin some more, Narcissa yelled back until she decided to leave.
But Hermione was making progress, and she thought she was making progress in another
thing as well. She didn’t tell the others because she was afraid to get their hopes high, but
every time she tried to occlude, she could feel something squeezing out. One day she saw a
tiny broom and a toddler’s laugh. The next day she saw a baby next to her sleeping on dark
green sheets. Narcissa cut short the lesson before Hermione could see anything else.
Remus decided to teach her something too, he taught her how to use their bond. She learned
how to call to him through it. They played hide and seek and she found him by pulling on
their bond. Those days, Sirius took it pretty hard. He wanted Harry around, but the Weasleys
were unrelenting.
After Sirius taught her how to retrieve one memory and pull it out of her head, Remus had left
and it took him hours to return. In the in-between, Sirius confessed that it was because
someone must have messed with her head, making her forget everything, including Remus’
face. He also apologised and Hermione only realised she wanted to hear an apology after he
said it.
“I shouldn’t have dropped the news like that. I’m sorry.” He told her. “I was desperate to get
Harry to believe me and make Peter pay for what he had done. I’m really sorry Hermione.”
She nodded, “I—You’ve seen it by now, I’m not exactly there” he pointed to his head as he
said it “most of the time and things are easier as a dog. It’s how I coped these past thirteen
years and—” his hands shook and she saw in his expression how he was getting frustrated
with himself. “I’m trying, okay? It’s not always easy, but I'm trying.”
“I know.” She told him.

“I’ve missed so much Hermione, so fucking much.” He cried, and Hermione watched, a little
bit awkward as he ran his hands through his long hair.
“You can make the most of it now.” Hermione said, “Harry was really happy when you
invited him to live with you, you know? You can have that now. You won’t miss anything from
now on.”
He nodded. “Thank you, for being so kind.”
She offered him a smile.
Later, when Remus had returned, he knocked on her bedroom door and asked if they could
talk. She nodded.
“The first thing you said to me on the train, do you remember?”
Hermione shook her head.
“You said that you knew me.” He chuckled, “you looked at me straight in the eye and said
that you knew me. And it wasn’t the first time you did it also.” Hermione frowned. “I had a
bookshop near your house until you were around six. You came in the first time and you were
this small—” he motioned it with his hand, “and you had a book on your hand, almost bigger
than your head and when you handed it to me, you said with that same expression and
certainty. ‘I know you.”
“I remember you.” Hermione said and corrected, “I remember the bookshop.”
Remus nodded. “I know. That’s why I had to leave.” He said, “If I stayed any longer, you
would be able to recognise me easily when we met again and I couldn’t have that.”
“Why?”
“You would know me for a liar.” He said, “I knew that you had five more years before
receiving your Hogwarts letter, and I knew one day you would find out. And once you learned
the truth, it would take no time before you learned about me and found out that I had lied to
you all there years.”
“But in the end, you lied still.” She told him.
“I did. I’m sorry.”
She nodded. “You are telling me now.”
Hermione noticed how he hesitated. “I am. Your memories have been tampered with.” He
told her. “They are still there, hidden, mixed with other memories. You might remember
something and see your muggle mother, but it happened with Lily. That’s the only way to keep
the truth from leaking. I guess that, if someone were to look inside your mind for those
memories of your time with the Potters, they wouldn’t be able to find it.”
“How do you know?” She asked him and Hermione watched his discomfort.
“It's the only possible way.” He said, “if memories had been erased, you’d have noticed by
now. Missing chunks, stuff like that.” Remus explained.
“Theo gave me this book once,” she started, “there were a few things there about what could
have happened to the Missing Sister, I mean—me. There’s—” she paused and shivered to
remember a few of the goriest ones. “What if I’m evil? What if someone did something to me,
what if—”
“Hermione, stop.” He said and sat closer to her, holding her hands in his, “Merlin you are
not evil. You could never be evil. I watched you grow up, remember? I was there for the first
six years of your life. I know who you are and Merlin, I’m so proud of whom you are
becoming.” Hermione could feel the tears threatening to escape.
“Thank you. But the thing is, I don’t know who I am anymore.” She confessed. “It was easy
to pretend that nothing had changed when I was with the Malfoys, but at the world cup—
people stared and whispered and pointed, is this how’s going to be? I know what people
expected of me when I was muggle-born, but now—” her voice broke down.
“You have nothing to do with other people’s expectations, Hermione.”
“I know,” she sighed, “it took me a while to learn that lesson, but—” another sigh, “what
about my parents? My muggle parents? I wasn’t adopted, Remus. I don’t think they know I’m
not their real child. And what then? Where is their real child? The one my mother carried?
How am I supposed to go home and look at the people that raised me my entire life, people
that have done nothing but support me in everything and tell them that everything has been a
lie?”
“You are not going to be alone, Hermione. When the time comes to that, I will be there with
you. I will explain to them as much as I can.”
“Thank you.” Hermione dried a lone tear, “is it bad that I’m scared? Because I am. I’m
scared about going back, about facing my mom and dad, about accepting that I'm not their
daughter, instead my real parents are these people that are dead and I've read so much
about.”
“It's perfectly fine to be scared. I’d worry if you were taking this in stride.”
They talked a bit more and eventually discussed Dumbledore and what did it mean that he
knew Sirius was innocent all along and didn’t share. They both got angry, Sirius came in and
then they all cried, it just wasn’t fair. What happened to Sirius, what they had all gone
through. Sirius was the angriest of them all. Dumbledore had taken his freedom, his life and
was now taking his godson. Narcissa was making the court case for his pardon as public as
possible and not once did they hear anything from Dumbledore. All the while, the Prophet
was putting out piece after piece blaming the Ministry for the entire fiasco at the World Cup.
Not a single rioter had been caught.
In the morning of Sirius' Wizengamont date, he was a nervous wreck. Narcissa had sent some
formal robes and he had been scowling from the moment he set the eyes on the package until
now. Sirius kept tugging on his sleeves and muttering under his breath. Remus had given up
trying to get Sirius to stop. She appeared at a quarter to eight and they were all waiting.
Sirius wanted to go by himself and Hermione didn't understand, but he and Remus had
argued until the early morning two nights ago and now Remus was just watching.
Sirius had been about to leave when Remus sprung to his feet and caught him by the wrist. he
looked desperate and they both stood there, by the door, looking, memorising, not saying a
thing. Narcissa made a sound in annoyance and they snapped out of it.
"If you don't come back--" Remus began,
Sirius gave a terrible smile that Hermione thought it had no place in the conversation, "You
will know where to find me,"
They left. Remus stood by the door where they disappeared for a long while.
He did come back, it was late in the evening, but neither Hermione or Remus had managed to
sleep. The door opened and they both jumped. Sirius looked tired and ragged, but he was
back. Remus too seemed to process this.
"Does this mean--" Remus started, he hadn't dared move from the sofa.
"One week. They wanted me to wait for the result in Azkaban, but Narcissa's lawyer argued
that since I had come in on my own vollition and was cooperative, he managed to keep me
out while I wait for the result."
Remus nodded. Sirius nodded back.
Hermione couldn't understand them. Remus had stared at the door from the moment Sirius
left until his return, but now that Sirius had returned he couldn't even approach him. What if
Sirius hadn't returned? What if he didn't get to say goodbye for a second time? Hermione
wanted to hug them both and force them into a hug until all their problems were solved.
Adults
Two days days before her return to Hogwarts, a Ministry owl perched on the kitchen’s
window during breakfast and the three of them stared at it in apprehension. “Is this it, then?”
Sirius asked. Hermione noticed how the hand holding his spoon trembled.
“I think so,” Remus replied.
“I will get it,” Hermione said and got up from her seat. She had finally learned Occlumency
after weeks of rigorous training, and wanted to try her shields by hiding her reaction to the
contents of the letter. Hermione removed the letter from the owl’s leg and the bird flew, not
waiting for either a treat or a coin. Shields in place, she opened the envelope.
"Do you think if it was a prison arrest they'd come in person, right?" Sirius asked
Dear Mr Black,
The memories you provided from the events that took place on the 23rd of October,
1981, 31st of October, 1981 and 6th of June, 1993 have been examined and proven to be
without alterations, therefore valid to be analysed in court. The contents of the memories
confirm that Mr Sirius O. Black is innocent of all charges.
The department of Magical Law Enforcement, the Ministry of Magic Witch Watchers
Office, the Investigation Department and the Wizengamot wishes to express their honest
apologies for their errors that led to your erroneous imprisonment.
On the occasion that it is your wish, you may file a lawsuit against the ministry and the
responsible parties for their negligence. The department of Magical Law Enforcement
hopes to work alongside you to right any remaining wrongs on their side.
With no further ado, Mr Sirius O. Black, born on November 3rd, 1959, Islington,
London, England is therefore cleared of all charges and reinstated as an honorary
member of the magical community. Your right to a wand has been restored, as well as
your financial assets.
Sincerely,
Cornelius Fudge, The Minister of Magic
“Well?” Remus asked, “now it’s not the time to Occlude, Hermione.”
Hermione grinned widely and waved the letter in her hand. “You are free!” She shouted,
“You are free!”
Remus jumped from his own seat and dragged Sirius up with him, engulfing him in a hug so
fierce that Hermione felt her eyes filling with tears. There it was They squeezed one another
and whispered something that Hermione couldn’t hear. She didn’t want to anyway, it was
their moment.
When they pulled apart, they still held each other for a moment and Hermione saw that their
eyes too were red with tears. Maybe that was why Remus had spent the last week at an arm's
distance, he didn't want to get his hopes up, he didn't want to let the other man in if there was
a chance that he'd lose him again. They held the other’s gaze and Hermione felt dizzy with
their tension. Remus pulled away first and turned to Hermione. He offered her a watery
smile. Not one to hold back, Hermione ran to them and pulled both of them to a hug. They
laughed but were easy to comply with.
Things got easier after that, their eyes never strayed and their touches always lingered. They
had agreed to go together to Diagon Alley if Sirius' went free and that's exactly what they did
on the morning before she had to take the Hogwarts Express. Hermione found them sleeping
on the sofa, Sirius was tucked against Remus' chest. She got back to her bedroom and let
them sleep a bit longer, they deserved it.
It was an odd affair, going shopping with the two of them. Sirius was stopped every two
seconds by a random witch or wizard who wanted to apologise to him and Hermione received
her fair share of looks and comments as well. People cried at the sight of her and told her
how they had always believed she was alive. The Daily Prophet appeared when they were
leaving Ollivanders for Sirius' new wand and they got their photo taken and people following
them during their shopping. They left as soon as they got everything they needed. Sirius
turned into Padfoot and hid under the dinner table for the rest of the day. Hermione wished
she could do the same.
She was up early on September 1st and the trio set out to King’s Cross together. This time,
they were prepared for the eyes of the public.
Not much after they arrived, someone called her name.
“Hermione!” She heard Harry’s voice and smiled immediately.
Harry was coming in her direction and the smile on his face was the biggest she had ever
seen. She quickly trusted Crookshanks' cage to Remus.
“Harry!” She smiled and hugged him tightly. Hermione ignored all the murmuring around
them. She couldn’t find in herself to care about the clicking she heard around her. She and
Sirius got a cover just by strolling together at Diagonal Alley, she knew her and Harry's hug
would be material for the entire edition of tomorrow’s Prophet.
“Sirius!” Harry said when they pulled away and his godfather hugged him even tighter.
Hermione bit her lip to refrain from crying. She felt a hand squeezing her shoulder and
looked up to see Remus in a much similar pose. “I saw the news on the prophet two days ago,
I couldn’t believe it!” Harry said excitedly. “I could have given my memories as well, you
know that.”
“I know my boy, but Hermione was there and it was quicker that way,” Sirius explained and
Harry looked at her curiously. She hadn't stopped to buy the morning's prophet, but she had
seen its cover and the headline on it saying PAGE 3 AND 4: SIRIUS BLACK IS FREE.
DIAGONAL ALLEY STROLL WITH THE MISSING SISTER.
“I will tell you everything on the train,” she promised him. Harry nodded.
Together, the four of them walked the platform towards the compartment that Harry and Ron
usually sat. Hermione felt a little giddy, walking with them. It shouldn’t have felt so right and
so simple. But it did feel like family.
“It’s done, then?” Harry was asking, “You are proper free now?”
“Yes,” Sirius replied and Remus couldn’t control himself and squeezed Sirius’s side that was
closest to him. The warm look they shared was so full of love that Hermione hoped they could
get through whatever was holding them back now that she would be out of their home. “I’m
free.” Sirius told her brother, “What do you say of spending Christmas together?” He asked,
“Hermione already agreed to come. You can see your room and bring some stuff to leave
there.”
Harry’s green eyes got impossibly bright. “I would love nothing more.”
“Great,” Sirius said and squeezed Harry’s arm. The train whistled and they hurried to enter,
Ron was already inside, as it seemed, he had stayed to save a compartment for them. She let
Crookshanks out as soon as she entered. Ron glared. Hermione looked at him, daring him to
complain.
Their godfathers waved at them until they were too small to be seen and Hermione let herself
believe that it wouldn’t be so hard this new life if she got Harry on her side and Remus and
Sirius cheering for them.
Harry was so happy that he didn’t look bothered that she had arrived with them at King’s
Cross. “Were you with them?” He asked.
“Yes, I went to Remus’ place after the Quidditch final and stayed there for the remainder of
August.”
“Why did you leave the Manor?” Harry asked.
“I couldn’t stay there after what happened.”
“Lucius was really there then?” Ron asked, all eager.
“No.” Hermione easily lied. She was startled with how easy the lie came. How effortlessly it
came out of her mouth. “But I know he approved of the events all the same.” She said
instead. Hermione looked at Harry and added, “now it’s different.” He grinned.
“This is the coolest, honestly.” He agreed. “And Sirius is free, he’s staying at Remus’ then?”
Hermione nodded. “I can’t wait for Christmas! Finally a Family Christmas.”
Ron flexed the muscles of his mouth, clearly displeased with the situation. “Mum and dad
said we won’t want to return for Christmas.”
“Why?” Hermione asked.
At the same time, Harry said, “what could possibly be better than Christmas at Sirius’?”
“Didn’t you see the list?” Ron asked with a scowl, “formal robes and all that? We are
probably having a ball of some sorts for Christmas.”
Well, that made sense. The list for the year’s supply arrived with formal robes as an item and
when Narcissa came for their lesson, she told Hermione that she had already arranged
everything with Daphne’s mother, Hermione only needed to choose a dress for the party.
Sirius, always in the mood to ruin Narcissa’s plans, ignored it and took Hermione to where
Lily had gotten her wedding dress before they went to Diagonal Alley. “Muggles know better
when it comes to fashion,” he had told her, “you are a part of both worlds Hermione, don’t
let my cousin remove you completely.” Hermione had agreed.
It was easy now, appreciating her muggle upbringing when she didn’t have to prove everyone
else of her worth. She didn’t have to worry about defending something muggle and hearing
people tell her to go back there then.
“And why is that anyway?” Hermione asked, “why a ball all of sudden?”
“Something is happening this year at Hogwarts.” Ron said, “something different. Bill and
Charlie got all cryptic just now, saying that they wish they could be at Hogwarts this year.”
Hermione wondered what it could be.
“We are going to find out when we arrive,” Harry said with a shrug, but she knew he was
just as excited as Ron with the possibilities.
“Anyway, how was it after we got separated?” Hermione asked.
Harry told her all about the events that happened after Draco pulled Hermione away, how
he’d seen a man coming out of the woods and casting the spell and all the chaos that ensued.
Apparently, it had been a right mess the entire thing and Arthur had a lot of trouble at work.
“You know what else I think it’s weird?” Harry asked, “my scar hurt on that Saturday
morning, before the final. I woke up due to the pain.”
“Again?” Hermione asked, worried.
“It’s weird, isn’t it? My scar hurts, and three days later the Death Eaters attack and we see
Voldemort’s sign’s up in the sky again.” Hermione worried her bottom lip, wondering if she
should share what she learned. “And then there was that thing Professor Trewlaney said—”
Hermione rolled her eyes at the mention of that woman, “She said that Voldemort would
return that greater and more terrible than ever before—”
“Stop saying his name!” Ron complained.
“—and he’d manage it because his servant was going to go back to him,” Harry finished.
“You are not saying that his servant is Wormtail, are you?” Hermione asked, dubiously. “He
didn’t look like someone capable of doing much of rising.”
Ron scoffed, “Right, that’s a bit more like the Malfoy’s line of work.”
She opened her mouth to say something, prepared for a scathing reply but at the same time
the door to their compartment was thrown open and Blaise Zabini was standing there.
“Your Royal Highness the Missing Sister,” Blaise greeted her with a ridiculous bow. Harry
snorted, while Ron scoffed.
“Shut up,” she told him, vaguely embarrassed and immediately forgot about Ron’s stupid
comment.
“I need to tell you something.” He told her, “would you mind being escorted by this peasant
to somewhere else?” He asked and there was a playful tilt to his mouth that Hermione found
particularly attractive. Ron muttered something under his breath that she and Blaise ignored.
She looked at Harry and Blaise seemed to have had enough, “Granger, he’s your brother, not
your keeper.” He snapped, but it wasn’t exactly at her, “Please?” He added.
“Of course,” she replied and got up. “I’ll talk to you at the Castle.” Crookshanks, the smart
cat that he was, jumped back inside of his cage and Hermione picked him up, taking him with
her. She didn’t trust Ron to not throw her cat out of the train.
“All right Your Highness,” Harry replied cheekily and Hermione groaned. She’d never tell
either of them, but Harry and Blaise had a very similar sense of humour.
Hermione left with Blaise and she hated how the students inside the compartments came to
the door as she passed, whispering and pointing.
Blaise was taking her to the car the Slytherins usually favoured and the moment they crossed
it, they came head first with Theo and Draco.
“I was going after her,” Theo said.
“Well, I got her first,” Blaise replied annoyedly. Hermione furrowed her eyebrows. What was
going on?
“I need to talk to her.”
Blaise scoffed. “You have Draco, talk to him.”
“Yeah, but I want—”
“Honestly Theo, I don’t really care about what you want right now.” Blaise snapped. Draco
looked as confused as Hermione felt. Theo didn’t react. “I will talk to Hermione now and
what I want is for you to get out of the way so I can find an empty compartment and talk with
my best friend.”
“She's my best friend!”
“Guys—” Draco began.
“Let's go, Granger,” Blaise said and pulled her, passing through the other two without caring
that he was knocking them to the side.
They found a compartment with two small girls that were clearly first years. Blaise opened
the door and the girls all stared at Hermione. “You are her!” A girl said.
“My father told me all about you and—” the other started, but Blaise cut the girl off.
“Yes, it’s her. She is quite overwhelmed with this whole staring and pointing, would you two
be so kind to find somewhere else to sit so she can have some privacy?” Blaise asked, his
best smile in place and of course, the two eleven-year-olds were incapable of saying no to
that. Hermione was almost fifteen and was pretty sure that she was also incapable.
They left and Blaise pushed her inside, she turned just in time to see him closing the door and
pulling the curtain to Theo’s expressionless face on the other side. “Find somewhere else!”
He barked, “jump the train for all I care!”
“Blaise!” She chastised, “what's going on?” He locked the door and cast a silencing spell
before answering her.
“Theo's a prick, that’s what he is.” He finally said.
“Why? What happened?”
Blaise sat down and Hermione opened Crookshanks’ cage. She was certain he was quite
annoyed by now. “I was with Theo when that whole mess happened.” He began, “He saw the
muggle family and lost it. While everyone else was running away from it, he was trying to get
to them, he saw his father’s mask and wanted to go after him. I had a hell of a time trying to
pull him away.”
So much had happened since that night that Hermione completely forgot about the others and
how they all had been there as well.
“You didn’t get hurt, did you?”
“No, we were fine. Mum apparated us out the second we reached the end of the wards. Theo
was pretty shaken, he puked and kept trashing, wanting to go after his father. Honestly? If I
wasn’t certain that I'd get myself killed in the process, I’d go after that man myself.” Blaise
spat. Hermione nodded. She’d probably tag along. “He has his own room at my house, have I
told you that?” Hermione shook her head. “Yeah, like you have yours at the Manor.” He
chuckled. “Funny, how we are all the same. Opening up our houses and then watching you
leave us behind.” Hermione blushed furiously. Blaise had clearly talked to Draco.
“I—”
“I understand you though,” he cut her off. “But not him,” Blaise said and finally, finally, he
let her see just how upset he truly was. His shoulders dropped and his chin and bottom lip
shook. Hermione moved closer to him and he rested his head on her shoulder, just like she
had done the year before in that corridor on the Dungeons.
“What happened Blaise?”
“He slept in my room that night. When he finally calmed down, we went to bed and—” his
voice broke a bit, “we slept really close, not hand-holding close, holding each other close.”
He explained, “We talked almost through the night, holding each other like that. I’m terrified
for him because he is not just against You-Know-Who stuff, he’s willing to fight for the other
side.” Blaise sighed, “Anyway, we talked and then we fell asleep. In the morning, we were
still tangled together when we woke up. I—” His voice cracked, he grabbed her hand and she
squeezed it. “I told him, Hermione. I told him how I felt. I told him that I liked him. More.
Differently. Immensely. And he simply—he vanished, Hermione. I was looking at him and
still, I saw him vanish. Theo disappeared and suddenly I had in my arms this body of
coldness and detachment. He told me he didn’t feel the same, he told me he liked me as a
friend and that was it. He told me that he wanted me to forget it and that he wanted me to
pretend that I had never said a thing.”
“Why?” She asked. It didn’t make any sense. She knew he felt the same. Theo had told her
that. Even if he hadn’t, a simple glance and one could clearly see that they felt something for
one another.
“I don’t know. But that’s not Theo. Hermione, it was like looking at a well. There was nothing
there, nothing in his tone nor his eyes. I don’t know what he did or how he did, but I haven’t
seen the real Theo for days. I had a stranger over and honestly? Now I just want him back. I
don’t care if he tells me exactly the same thing, I just want to be him to say it.”
What could possibly be Theo’s reason? She wondered. Hermione knew what Theo really felt,
they had talked about it just the year prior. What had changed? Was that why Theo wanted to
talk to her as well?
Blaise stayed quiet after that and Hermione let him rest his head on her legs and she ran her
hands through his hair. After a while, Blaise sighed and Hermione became the audience to a
very extensive and detailed monologue on everything that Blaise liked in Theo and why
nothing made sense anymore.
Night had fallen when Draco passed by their compartment, Vince and Greg in toll. Hermione
sighed. It was never good when she spotted those three. Draco stopped by and opened the
door, Blaise had fallen asleep somewhere around sunset.
“Is he okay?” Draco asked in a low voice. Hermione shrugged.
“He's upset. And confused.”
“I don’t know what has gotten into Theo, I couldn’t get through him,” Draco confessed and
seemed to remember that Vince and Greg were next to him. From where he stood by the door,
he held eye contact with her and said, “I wouldn’t have done that.” And then turned to leave.
It was safe to say, Hermione was already tired of Draco’s random bouts of honesty that ended
as quickly as they began and always left her staring at his wake.
“Ugh,” Blaise groaned and opened one eye to spy up at her. “It's so weird how the two of
you are not dysfunctional anymore.”
“I will push you off the sofa.” She warned and he chuckled, but sat up and put some distance
between them.
“He has changed, hasn’t he?” Blaise asked. Hermione felt her cheeks reddening.
“Yes, he has.” She replied quietly, but still incapable of hiding her smile.
“I was scared of coming out to Draco, you know?” Blaise asked, and Hermione shook her
head. “I wanted to tell someone and I knew it had to be you first, but then I also wanted to
tell him, because he’s my friend too and I've heard some dumb shit that Vince and Greg have
said about people like me. The gay, not the black thing, by the way.” He added, “but in the
end, he was the one to approach me at the end of the year. Vince said something really
offensive about how 'a poof is playing for the Tornadoes' and Draco approached me after. He
told me he didn’t agree with what Vince had said and that if I ever felt like I wanted to tell
him anything, I could. And that he’d also get Vince to shut up.”
Hermione knew that Draco had changed, she had seen it, she had front-row seat to his
changes, but it didn’t change the fact that hearing from others, not so biased witnesses to
Draco’s maturing, was something else. More.
“I confronted Lucius about what happened.” She told Blaise. “At the World Cup.” Because
she was dying to tell someone about that. “I told Draco that I’d do it and I thought he would
get angry or offended on his father’s behalf, but he—”
Blaise smirked. “He was quite charming instead.”
“Did he tell you?” Hermione asked curiously.
“Not everything. But I know him. He has Narcissa’s flair for romance. And with the way he
was blushing telling me that you had left because of Lucius, I kind of assumed he was keeping
something to himself.”
“He told me he wouldn’t forgive his father if Lucius took me from him,” Hermione said,
blushing herself after repeating it. “His mother told me that one day I'd be standing on a
different side from them. Draco told me that not the two of us.”
Blaise nodded. “Not us.” He said in agreement. “When Theo removes his head from his arse,
he will say that too.”
Hermione gave a small smile. Even upset with him, Blaise was still seeing the best of Theo.
“What did you just say?” Severus asked. Narcissa was reshelving some books and had yet to
look at him. He knew Narcissa quite well that when she started to do manual work was
because she was trying to keep her hands occupied. Probably to not hex someone.
He should have expected something of the sort when he received Narcissa's letter inviting
him for tea two days after the entire ordeal at the World Cup. He felt his left arm twitch. The
mark had burned so much when whoever cast the Dark Mark on the sky.
“I sent her to stay with her godfather,” Narcissa repeated.
“Why?”
The book in her hand found its place on the shelf a bit violently. “Because my dear husband
decided to confess all his glorious crimes to your daughter and like the sensible girl that she
is, she decided to leave.”
“And you decided that his place was the best option?”
“I couldn’t send her to you, now could I?” She snapped. “It's not my bloody fault that you
are a coward.”
“A coward?” He repeated. “If I'm the coward, what does that make of you? You’ve kept your
secret just like I did.”
Narcissa scoffed, “Yes because it makes a lot of sense for me to be her godmother when
everyone else believes she’s Lily and James’.”
“She's safer not—”
“Spare me the story, Severus.” She said, “She’s gone! How’s that safe? I had her with me all
these years, I kept her away from the muggles and Dumbledore. I shared quite more than I’m
comfortable with a fourteen-year-old to make sure I don’t lose her! What have you done?
Hide in the shadows!”
“Hide in the shadows? I’ve done everything Narcissa, everything in my power to keep her
safe. Or did you forget that every six months I polyjuice myself into the Granger’s gardener
to plant wormwood around her house to keep the blood spell working? I can’t invite her for
tea in my office Narcissa, that would be extremely improper. Not to mention that every time
I've allowed myself to show that I feel anything for her, I had to answer Dumbledore’s
questions! If we lose her, it’s because we are still on the wrong side of things, just like we
were fourteen years ago.” He seethed.
That made her snap a book against the table. “Nothing is the same as fourteen years ago.
Nothing.” She hissed. “I have Draco now. I have Hermione. I freed Sirius Black. James and
Lily’s closest friends don’t trust Dumbledore. We are stronger than we’ve ever been.”
“What's we?”
“The under-covers Severus,” she mocked. "The ones working behind the curtains making
sure that some crazy bastard doesn’t take everyone from us.”
Severus watched Narcissa. He couldn’t quite call her his friend, because he didn’t really have
any friends. But she was definitely his partner and the person he trusted the most if he still
dared to trust another person besides himself. He had met her on his first year of Hogwarts,
she and her sisters held court at the Slytherin common room. Bellatrix had been in her last
year, Andromeda was in her sixth year and Narcissa had gotten her first Prefect badge. She
was beginning to pay attention to Lucius and Lucius had taken an interest in small, quiet,
lonely Severus Snape, deciding to invite him to his big boy’s secret club. Severus wished he
had been less of a stupid bastard when he was younger and had seen the racist cult for what
it really was.
He barely talked with her in their Hogwarts years, but he had always admired her brilliancy.
She had something quite magnetising about her - and it helped that she wasn’t half-deranged
as her older sister or quiet and mysterious like the middle one. Narcissa had always made
head turns and demanded attention by her mere presence, but what made her stand out was
that she really was brilliant, both academically and in navigating her world. She had half of
the boys in the castle mooning over her. To this day, Severus still believed that the only reason
Narcissa and Lucius had worked out together was that Lucius, besides being a great actor,
had always been more in love with Narcissa than he was with the whole racist cult. And that
he had been the only boy who knew how to treat a woman.
Lucius was many things, but he had never been bad to Narcissa, maybe that was why she still
followed him when she could reign over him. And definitely, that was why she had never said
explicitly how much she didn’t approve of her husband’s choices.
“I've known you for twenty-three years,” He said, a little bit stunned if he was being honest
with himself. “I don’t think I have ever—”
“Men are stupid.” She said, back to organising her books. “They see power and think that’s
what makes us desire them. Men who think they are the most powerful and that they are
unbeatable are the worst ones because they fail to see everything else that matters. I was very
much in love with Lucius when my father sent my sister away for the same crime I had
committed. Being in love. Did he stop to think that burning my beloved sister from our family
tree would bring consequences? Not once. How could I trust the man who took the person I
loved the most from me? How could I trust my oldest sister that had run to betray Dora after
she confessed something so dear and special to her?” Narcissa shook her head. “Men who
can’t see it, are not worth it. We are the same. All of us, the under-covers.”
All of us. Were there more? Did she know others like them, the ones who threaded carefully
between both sides? He knew Narcissa would never tell.
“Can Lucius see it?” Severus asked. Because Severus saw it now, he saw now, albeit too late,
that he should’ve never put his fate on someone willing to kill the one person Severus had
ever loved.
The look Narcissa gave him was answer enough. But still, she made sure to add. “He has
never seen anything else.”
Chapter End Notes
well, this chapter was Sirius Black getting a bit of the love and peace he deserves.
The title and the quote at the beggining belong to Home by Cavetown
I don't know where you're in the grand scheme of things
Chapter Notes
Hello everyone!
Thank you for the comments on the last chapters.
Unfortunately, this is a short one, but I hope you enjoy it all the same.
The characters don't belong to me, they belong to Warner Bros and the original author of
the books.
The title of the chapter and the quotes at the beginning belong to Hugging You by Tom
Rosenthal
the secrets of the day are never far

I don't know where we are going but
God, it's a start
Chapter Twenty Six
“What has gotten into him?” Pansy asked when the train arrived at the station and Theo left
without saying a word to any of them and threaded through the curtain of rain without a care.
They watched him enter the first carriage without a single glance behind him.
“What has gotten into him?” Daphne asked in a whisper when Theo remained monosyllabic
during the sorting ceremony.
“What has gotten into him?” Vince asked after Theo abruptly left mid-dinner after Greg
asked if there were any mudbloods that year.
“And what have we talked about that word Greg?” Blaise barked, already angry with Theo’s
behaviour.
“Hermione is not actually one so we don’t need to avoid it anymore.” He shrugged.
There was a silence around the table. Both older and younger Slytherin looked at her and
between one another.
“It doesn’t change shit, Greg,” Draco said. Draco Malfoy said. “Muggle-born or half-blood,
it was wrong calling her that and we won’t use it to others as well.” He said.
The tension was palpable. Draco had made quite the declaration just two weeks after what
had happened at the World Cup. The Malfoys had the highest standing anywhere they went,
and this followed with Draco among the Slytherins. It meant everything to her for him to be
the one to say it. She touched her feet to his and kept it there, a small sign of appreciation.
Draco slipped his right hand underneath the table, Hermione found it with her left hand and
he squeezed. His hand was shaking.
Something had definitely changed between them.
A few students, some older ones and the Carrow twins were not much appreciative of his
comments, but no one said a thing. Dinner resumed tense until the Bloody Baron appeared
complaining and cursing.
“What has gotten into you?” Tracey asked, repeating the same question the others had all
asked already.
“Peeves, of course,” their ghost replied with a scoff. “Every year that little shit wants to
attend the feast as if he can see a plate of food and not throw it at someone’s face. Never seen
a poltergeist so utterly uncivilised. Every year is the same thing, the ghosts hold a council to
evaluate his behaviour from the previous year to see if he’s allowed or not, an utter waste of
my death if you ask me.” The Bloody Baron was saying. She had never engaged him so she
hadn’t heard his voice yet, and it was quite macabre. “That fool the Fat Friar was all for
giving him the chance but I was against, oh no, it always on me after, I can’t peacefully enjoy
my death if I have to be floating after him all night, no. I said it.”
“That was why he was greeting students with water balloons,” Pansy muttered, she had
gotten splashed on the head with one.
“Exactly and I let him, after the havoc he wreaked in the kitchen, it was mayhem, pots and
pans everywhere, the house-elves were swimming in soup and the little things were terrified
out of their wits —”
Hermione set her fork down. “There are house-elves here?” she asked, staring, horror-struck,
at the Bloody Baron. “Here at Hogwarts?”
“Oh no,” Draco groaned.
“The largest number in any dwelling in Britain, I believe. Over a hundred.” The Bloody
Baron replied. Hermione gaped.
“I’ve never seen one!” She said.
“Well, of course, they hardly ever leave the kitchen by day, do they?” The ghost said, “They
come out at night to clean up, set the fires and so on. And that’s what makes them one of the
finest in Britain. Over a hundred and you don’t even see them!”
Hermione stared at him.
“But they get paid?” she asked. “They get holidays, don’t they? And — and sick leave, and
pensions, and everything?”
Every head on the Slytherin table turned to gape at her. By their expressions, Hermione
thought she had grown a second head.
“Sick leave and pensions?” he chortled, shaking his chains with his laughter, which sounded
more like a drowning cat. “House-elves don’t want sick leave and pensions!” He said and
still making that weird noise, left them.
“What has gotten into her?” Blaise asked Draco.
“I'm right here,” Hermione hissed.
“Mother found her in the kitchen the other day, talking to them,” Draco told the group. Pansy
gave her a look that clearly told she thought Hermione was weird. “She's been weird about
them since the world cup.”
“Of course!” She snapped. “They are slaves! That’s what they are! They are bound to their
master’s orders even if they are afraid or incapable! Winky was being trampled by people
because she had been told to stay put!”
“Who's Winky?” Daphne asked, Hermione, ignored.
“And then Dobby!” She pointed at Draco, “he was incredibly mistreated! Did you see his
hands and ears? That was barbaric!”
“He did most of that himself, Hermione.” Draco replied, “When an elf feels that it hasn’t
properly followed their master’s orders, they punish himself and—”
“As if that’s any better!” She exclaimed, “They have no choice, no free will—” She stopped,
taking sight of Vince absolutely devouring his chicken leg. “Slave labour,” she said,
breathing hard through her nose. “That’s what made this dinner. Slave labour.”
And she refused to eat another bite.
The conversation was scarce after that. With Theo gone and both Hermione’s and Blaise’s
moods being sour, Draco didn’t have anyone to talk to. Pansy stuck to Daphne and they both
went on and on about their dresses and why would they need them anyway.
“Now that we are all fed and watered,” Dumbledore began and Hermione glared at him.
Blaise snorted. “I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices.
“Mr Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the
castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-
Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I
believe, and can be viewed in Mr Filch’s office, if anybody would like to check it.”
The corners of Dumbledore’s mouth twitched, clearly misbehaviour pleased him. She was
still angry at him. Hermione had been privy to the amount of pain that Remus and Sirius had
been inflicted with and she blamed Dumbledore for all of it. The headmaster, however,
continued, unaware of her glares. “As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on
the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below the third
year.”
Hermione harrumphed. As if that had kept Harry!
Draco glanced at her and his look clearly asked ‘what now?’ She ignored him.
“It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take
place this year.”
“What?” The boys gasped. The Slytherin quidditch team looked around one another. They
seemed incredibly upset by it. Hermione wouldn’t say it, but at least it kept them from losing
the cup yet again.
Dumbledore went on, “This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing
throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers’ time and energy—” everyone sat
up straight at that. Draco grinned widely and muttered,
“It's going to be so fucking cool.”
“—But I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that
this year at Hogwarts—”
Dumbledore was cut off by a deafening rumble of thunder and the doors of the Great Hall
banged open. A man stood in the doorway, he used a long staff to distribute his weight and
was shrouded in a black travelling cloak. Ignoring every head in the Great Hall, he lowered
his hood, shook out a long mane of grizzled, dark grey hair, then began to walk up toward the
teachers’ table.
Slytherin, being the closest table to the door, got an exclusive view of his face. It looked as
though it had been carved out of weathered wood by someone who had only the vaguest idea
of what human faces are supposed to look like, and was none too skilled with a chisel. Every
inch of skin seemed to be scarred. The mouth looked like a diagonal gash, and a large chunk
of the nose was missing. But the worse of it all was his eyes. One of them was small, dark,
and beady. The other was large, round as a coin, and a vivid, electric blue.
“No way,” Theo said. They all looked to see him back at their table. At her side. When had he
returned? “That's Alastor Moody.”
The blue eye moved independently of the other eye, it moved ceaselessly, without blinking,
and rolled up, down, and from side to side.
“What is he doing here?” Draco asked. He also looked as he knew who Alastor Moody was
supposed to be.
The man stretched out a hand that was as badly scarred as his face, and Dumbledore shook it,
they talked a bit and from that far out, no one could hear. Dumbledore nodded and gestured
the man to the empty seat on his right-hand side.
Alastor Moody sat down, shook his mane of dark grey hair out of his face and bizarrely,
sniffed the plate of sausages before grabbing a silver knife out of his pocket, mutilated the
sausages and began eating them with it.
He had his head down, but the blue eye was still darting restlessly around in its socket, taking
in the Hall and the students.
“May I introduce our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?” Dumbledore said brightly
into the silence. As if he hadn’t been interrupted just now. “Professor Moody.”
No one applauded. No one seemed to be able to process much beyond the man’s appearance.
“I thought he had retired,” Draco mentioned.
“He did.”
“Now he talks,” Blaise muttered.
“Who is he?” She asked.
“He's a nutter that used to work at the Ministry,” Draco explained. “Liked to show up at the
Manor unannounced, trying to catch something dark happening.” He scowled. “He's no
professor,” Draco said, his pointed nose scrunched in disgust.
"He was an Auror,” Theo added. “Half the cells in Azkaban are full because of him. He made
himself loads of enemies, though.” A few people around them mumbled.
“He put my mother’s brother in Azkaban.” Maggie Travers from the year below them said.
“He put my father’s brother there as well.” Richard Sewlyn, a sixth-year said.
One of the Carrows twins spat on the table. “It's quite the statement though.” One of them
said.
“Bringing him to teach at Hogwarts after what happened at the World Cup.” The other
continued, in that creepy twin thing of theirs. Hermione had yet to learn who was Flora and
who was Hestia.
A boy scoffed. “They couldn’t catch a single person from that night. What? Is he going to
catch their kids instead, now?” Quite a few kids grew uncomfortable at the table.
Lovely. Hermione thought.
“I reckon he’s quite paranoid now,” Draco said, “Father says that the ministry has to deal
with him every other day now, keeps causing trouble, saying he has seen dark wizards at the
window.”
“See?” Theo pointed, elbowing Hermione to get her attention. “He's drinking from his own
flask and also had his own knife. Doesn’t trust a shadow, him.”
“As I was saying,” Dumbledore said, smiling at the sea of students before him, trying to get
the attention off Alastor Moody. “We are to have the honour of hosting a very exciting event
over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very
great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts
this year.”
“You’re JOKING!” Fred or George Weasley said loudly. Nearly everyone laughed, even
Dumbledore chuckled.
“I am not joking, Mr Weasley,” he said, “though now that you mention it, I did hear an
excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar—”
Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly.
“He has got to be kidding,” Pansy said, her face slack. Whether was to the joke or the news,
Hermione wasn’t sure.
Draco only smirked. “It's true, father told me.”
Dumbledore explained to those who didn’t know what the Triwizard Tournament was and
Hermione understood both Pansy’s and the twin’s reaction to it.
“Death toll?” She asked and they all ignored her. Eager to hear more about the tournament.
“—The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed
contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween.
An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard
Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money.”
“A thousand Galleons!” She exclaimed annoyedly, “it's not like they couldn’t be using that
money to, I don’t know, pay a hundred elves!”
Theo, who had missed her whole debate, looked at her confused. “What are you on about?”
He asked her. Hermione didn’t need to look to know that the scoff had come from Blaise in
front of her.
“Did you know that the food we eat here is the fruit of slave labour?” She asked him.
“Do you mean elves?” Theo asked.
“And every single meal you ever had at the Manor,” Greg added, “give us a break
Hermione.”
Theo glared at the boy. “Tell me more about it later, then.” He told her and Hermione nodded.
She offered him a smile. It took him a second to return it.
Blaise shifted in his seat. He glared at Theo’s profile through the rest of Dumbledore’s
speech.
“Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts,”
Dumbledore was saying, “the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of
Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who
are of age will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This—” People had
started to mutter their complaints. Crazy, all of them. Had really no one heard the death toll
part? “—is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be
difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students
below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring
that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts
champion. I, therefore, beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under
seventeen.”
“It's going to be so cool, though.” Draco said, “They teach all sorts of things at Durmstrang
and Beauxbatons. They haven’t had a shortage of good Defence Against the Dark Arts
teachers, I bet they will know what to do.”
“Oh, my Merlin!” Pansy exclaimed suddenly. “Salazar’s balls! No way! Helga’s tits, oh my
—”
“Spit it out, honestly.” Blaise snapped.
“—The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and
remaining with us for the greater part of this year.” Dumbledore continued.
"Do you know who’s a Durmstrang student?” She asked, green eyes wide and excited. For
some reason, Pansy had adjusted her bra and hair.
“You clearly do!” Draco said, annoyed.
“—I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with
us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is
selected.”
“Viktor Krum!” She announced.
“—And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you
enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!”
Daphne gasped. Blaise cheered that he had remembered to bring his poster, Greg and Vince
were making all sorts of plans already, Draco was pretending to not care. Theo simply got up
and started to leave.
In their dormitory, the girls all gathered in Pansy’s and Daphne’s beds to talk. There were
warming pans between the sheets. Hermione frowned, all their comforts, every—
“Snap out of it Hermione,” Pansy said. “We have more important things to address.”
Hermione opened her mouth to disagree, but Pansy wasn’t having it and continued. “What’s
the deal with Theo and Blaise? That’s annoying. Second, that shit at the World Cup, mum
wants to move to France! Dad’s scared, he might agree with her. That’s also annoying.
Thirdly, don’t you think that’s curious how they have decided to have another attempt at the
tournament now? Of all times? They want attention away from something else, that’s for
sure. And lastly, we so need to learn those boobies spells if we want to have older
Durmstrang students asking us for the ball!”
“Which ball?” Tracey asked.
“Honestly Tracey, it’s obvious! There is going to be a Yule Ball for the Tournament. That’s
why we had to bring formal gowns and robes.”
“Oh!” Millicent said excitedly, “I heard the Beauxbatons boys are all handsome!”
Hermione rolled her eyes, “Dumbledore said it’s only the short-listed contenders, that means
only students over seventeen will be coming. It’s not like they will be wanting to dance with
fourteen-year-olds.
Pansy huffed, “that's why we need the boobies spell. My boobies haven’t yet grown as much
as I want them to, they will need some push.”
“Pansy,” Daphne started, “yours are just behind Milli’s.” She pointed out. Milli looked quite
proud at that.
Pansy was unperturbed and removed a few magazines from her trunk, all of them had women
with huge boobies on the cover.
They talked almost throughout the night, in the end, Pansy had managed to convince
Hermione to help her with the spell.
The next morning, they received their timetable during breakfast and Narcissa’s packages
found both Draco and Hermione. Draco quickly opened his, while Hermione stared at hers.
Like every meal you ever had at the Manor.
“You can’t defend the house-elves if you starve to death Granger,” Draco said and Hermione
scowled at him. But ate her breakfast.
They had Charms with the Ravenclaws first thing in the morning, and then Hagrid with the
Gryffindors while Theo had Muggle Studies, then double Arithmancy for her and Divination
for the rest. Hermione had no desire to study that ever again.
By lunch, the tug of war started. Hermione and Draco were like children of divorced parents.
If Theo approached Hermione, Blaise would drag Draco with him. If Blaise approached
Hermione, Theo would drag Draco.
She was so annoyed that she decided to start on her new plan during her lunch break. She
announced that she was going to the library to the immense confusion of Vince and Greg.
Theo jumped in to go with her.
Right before dinner, the first altercation between Draco and Harry and Ron took place outside
the Great Hall.
“Imagine them not even getting his name right, Weasley.” Draco was saying when Hermione
arrived. "It’s almost as though he’s a complete nonentity, isn’t it?” Hermione started to fight
her way through the small crowd that had formed already, “And there’s a picture, Weasley!”
Draco said, “A picture of your parents outside their house — if you can call it a house! Your
mother could do with losing a bit of weight, couldn’t she?” Oh, for Merlin’s sake.
She took hold of Draco’s arm and pulled him, “that's enough.” She hissed.
“Get stuffed, Malfoy,” Harry said. “C’mon, Ron…”
“Oh yeah, you were staying with them this summer, weren’t you, Potter?” Draco sneered.
“So tell me, is his mother really that porky, or is it just the picture?”
“Draco!” She snapped and pulled him again.
“You know your mother, Malfoy?” Harry retorted while trying to hold Ron back, “that
expression she’s got like she’s got dung under her nose? Has she always looked like that, or
was it just because you were with her? Not even Hermione managed to stay through the
summer, huh?”
“Oh yeah, great Harry. Really great.” She snapped at him.
Draco’s face turned pink. “Don’t you dare insult my mother, Potter!”
“Keep your fat mouth shut, then,” Harry barked and turned away. Hermione saw Draco’s
wand arm raising and the moment she pushed it away from Harry, there was a loud bang, and
the spell Draco had cast was snuffed out and Draco disappeared next to her.
Hermione looked around confused and turned at the loud voice booming behind her. “OH
NO YOU DON’T, LADDIE!”
Moody was coming, he had his wand pointed and Hermione followed his wand to where it
was pointed and saw a pure white ferret, which was shivering on the stone-flagged floor,
exactly where Draco had been standing.
Draco, or the ferret, gave a terrified squeak and took off, streaking toward the dungeons. “I
don’t think so!” Moody roared and pointed his wand at the ferret again, Hermione gasped. He
had just thrown Draco up ten feet into the air and let it smack to the floor.
“Stop!” She cried as Moody made it bounce upward once more.
“I don’t like people who attack when their opponent’s back’s turned,” Moody growled as the
ferret bounced higher and higher, every time smacking back to the floor.
“Stop! You are hurting him!” Hermione got in front of Moody, but he didn’t seem to see her.
“Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do…” He muttered and Hermione altered between
turning behind her and back to Moody.
The ferret was making squeaky noises, clearly in pain and its legs and tail flailed helplessly.
“Professor, please—”
“Never — do — that — again —” said Moody, speaking each word as the ferret hit the stone
floor and bounced upward again.
People were laughing around them. Hermione felt despair. Couldn’t they see? What was
wrong with people? She saw the eyes of the ferret rolling in his head. She felt hot, angry tears
streaming down her face.
“Professor Moody!” said a shocked voice.
Finally. Hermione thought. Professor McGonagall was coming down the marble staircase
with her arms full of books.
“Hello, Professor McGonagall,” said Moody calmly, bouncing the ferret still higher.
“What — what are you doing?” Professor McGonagall asked, her eyes following the
bouncing ferret’s progress through the air.
“Teaching,”
“Teach—” She saw Hermione’s expression and her eyes grew wide. "Moody, is that a
student?” She shrieked and the books spilt out of her arms.
“Yep,”
“No!” She cried and ran down the stairs and pulled out her wand; a moment later, with a loud
snapping noise, Draco had reappeared, lying in a heap on the floor with his sleek blond hair
all over his now brilliantly pink face. He got to his feet, wincing. Hermione ran to him and let
him sag into her.
“Draco,” she muttered and he groaned.
“I think—” he began but winced.
“Moody, we never use Transfiguration as a punishment!” Professor McGonagall said weakly.

“Surely Professor Dumbledore told you that?”
“He might’ve mentioned it, yeah,” Moody said, he didn’t seem much concerned about his
mistake. Hermione saw red. “I thought a good sharp shock—”
“We give detentions, Moody! Or speak to the offender’s Head of House!”
“I’ll do that, then,” He said and took a step in Draco’s direction. There was only dislike in his
eyes. Hermione glared.
“My father will hear about this,” Draco muttered, his eyes were red with unshed tears.
“Oh yeah?” Moody asked quietly, defiance in his tone. He limped forward a few steps, the
dull clunk of his wooden leg echoing around the hall. Hermione pulled herself entirely in
front of Draco. “Well, I know your father of old, boy. You tell him Moody’s keeping a close
eye on his son, all right? You tell him that from me.”
“Get away from him.” Hermione hissed.
Moody looked at her. Both the normal one and the blue one. She heard the air crackle.
Hermione was so angry that she felt like she could throw him back without her wand. Her
entire body was shaking. Moody smirked. “Was this how you did it?” He asked her.
McGonagall gasped. “Was this how you protected your brother from the big bad guy?”
She felt every pair of eyes now turn to her. Moody tried another step. Hermione glared
harder. “Leave.”
“You are standing in front of the wrong person, Miss Potter.” He told her with a terrifying
smile. Everything in his sentence felt wrong. But not where she was. McGonagall was still
hovering, as well as Harry and Ron and every other student that had been coming down the
stairs then and the ones who left the Great Hall to spy on the ruckus. Moody’s glass eye
turned in McGonagall’s direction. “Your Head of House’ll be Snape, will it?” He asked
Draco.
“Yes,” Draco replied, she knew the amount of pain he was in.
“Another old friend,” Moody said. “I’ve been looking forward to a chat with old Snape.
Come on, then,”
When he made to seize Draco’s upper arm and Hermione saw Draco flinch, it was almost like
she had been transported to the train ride last year and the sight of Theo’s broken figure
crunched over.
“I told you to get away from him.”
Another smile. “You can come with me. Your awful manners need disciplining as well.”
Moody said, “no doubt this lot's influence.”
Draco straightened his back and she heard in his ragged breathing how much that hurt. There
was only venom in his eyes. And to Hermione’s immense surprise, he took her hand in his
and turned in the direction of the dungeons. They led the way to Snape’s office, undoubtedly
with both of Moody’s eyes glaring daggers in their backs.
Severus hated Dumbledore with a passion.
Every new school year Severus felt the hatred got renovated with each new addition to the
staff. Lockhart had been a disaster from start to finish and now the man was a permanent
resident at Janus Thickey Ward; Lupin had been a creative albeit extremely annoying
addition but Alastor Moody was giving all sorts of red flags warning to Severus and it was
only the first day.
And the nuisance kept that annoying eye on Severus all the time as if he wanted to catch
Severus doing something Death Eaterish.
He had just left his office to go up the Great Hall for dinner when he saw the murderous
expression on his daughter’s face and the resolute expression on Draco’s. Right behind them,
limping and smirking, came Alastor Moody.
Just brilliant.
“Oh Severus, just the guy I was looking for!” He said and without waiting, passed Severus
and entered the office. Severus glared at his back, no doubt that the man had seen it with that
eye of his.
He touched Hermione’s shoulder and she whirled around, fire in her eyes. His shields had
been up since spotting Alastor coming, but the flash of memory was like an avalanche.
Moody was making himself comfortable in Severus’ office, but he knew better, turning his
back on the Auror, he mouthed to Hermione. “Shields up.” Her thunderous expression
relented with a blink. Good girl. Brilliant girl.
“What is this?” Severus asked, entering his office. He noticed his godson was holding his ribs
and biting down his lips. He made a point to not look at their joined hands.
“Your student thought it was all good and proper to hex another student behind their back,”
Moody told him, his blue eye going in every single direction around his office. Always
looking, always searching.
Severus looked at the pair. One clearly broken and bruised, the other quite murderous.
“Which one?” He asked.
“Lucius' boy,” Moody said and glared at Draco.
“He transformed Draco into a ferret and threw him up and down multiple times!” Hermione
exploded, so much for her shields. “He cracked his body on the stones!”
Alastor watched. He smirked. Severus hated it. “Aren't you going to discipline Miss Potter?”
He asked, an eyebrow raised. With his shields in place, that name didn't rankle him.
“I fail to see what she has done wrong.” He replied. Moody came closer and stood in front of
him. Both men glared at one another, Severus didn’t dare to use his Legilimency, he knew the
man wouldn’t hesitate to send him to Azkaban. But he put himself between the pair and
Moody. Draco’s form was quite obvious after Hermione’s explosion.
Moody scoffed. His blue eye looked up and down and then towards Hermione behind him
and Draco on her side. “You didn’t strike me as the fatherly type of professor.” He said and
his mangled face twitched in what Severus guessed was supposed to be a smile.
No one had ever referred to him as fatherly. Not even the limited number of four that knew he
was a father. “I'm not. I punish them as I see fit.”
“Yes,” he laughed, “always just, Severus Snape.” Moody knocked his staff on the floor and
Draco jumped a bit. “Little Malfoy here was about to curse Harry Potter, one would think his
sister would defend him, but I see there has been a bit of duplicitous influence on her side.
Not to be expected from the daughter of James Potter, maybe Lily then?” He asked. Severus
wanted to throttle him. Hermione was back to glaring. “No, she wasn't a betrayer either, now
was she?”
“You clearly have already placed your punishment on the boy, perhaps you could go straight
to the point?”
“Oh, no, Severus,” he said and moved towards the door. “I just wanted to say hi, it’s been so
long after all.” Turning to Draco, he added: "Don’t forget boy, send my regards to your
father.” And he left.
Severus cast the silencing charm one second before Hermione exploded, “He's barbaric!” She
said, “Attacking Harry behind his back? He turned Draco into a ferret behind Draco’s back!”
“Miss Granger please, file your complaints to the headmaster.” He told his daughter, she
ignored him and continued to express her indignity, “Draco, I’m going to heal you now.” He
told the boy.
“Please.” The boy muttered.
He cast a few spells and heard the crack of a rib or two getting back into place, as well as the
boy’s wrist. Not a single tear escaped his eyes.
“He had no right.” Hermione hissed.
“Miss Granger,” Severus sighed, “I know. I’m afraid we don’t have much to say about his
presence here in the castle.”
“Maybe if you hadn’t outed Remus—”
“I didn’t out Remus” he cut her off, honestly, he was bickering with his fourteen year old
now. “He resigned first.” She glared at him. Hermione opened her mouth to say something
else, but he beat her to it, “You are in a position now that—”
“I don’t care!” This time, she cut him off. Draco winced and Severus knew it wasn’t from
pain, but from the shrill in her voice. “I don’t care that I’m Harry sister, I won’t not defend
Draco or anyone else if I see they have been wronged by my brother. Even if Draco might
have deserved in the beginning.”
“Cheers, Granger,” Draco said.
“You shouldn’t have said what you did about Ron’s mother! Leave them alone, honestly! And
grow up, for Merlin’s sake!”
“It's not my fault they are so easy to goad!”
Severus rolled his eyes.
Hermione glared again. Too much. Too much on his first day.
“My office is not the place for that.” He said, putting an end to their bickering. “Miss
Granger, Narcissa has informed me that she has taught you Occlumency.” Hermione nodded
and Draco looked at her with wide eyes. Apparently, his mother had kept that information
from her son. “Keep those shields she taught you up every time you are around Alastor
Moody. That blue eye sees more than just the exterior.”
The last thing he needed was Alastor searching inside Hermione’s mind.
It hadn’t escaped him how the man had made more than one comment that had rubbed him
wrong. But Severus had to relinquish that to his constant paranoia. Alastor Moody couldn’t
know about anything regarding Hermione that wasn’t now common knowledge. The only
people alive who knew the entire truth was Remus, Narcissa and Lucius. Well, Mary
McDonald too, like Lupin had reminded him. But no one knew whether she was alive or
dead. It was doubtful that Moody had gotten any information from her.
“I'm not attending that man’s classes,” Draco announced and Severus rolled his eyes.
“You are. Moody isn’t Lupin or Lockhart, Draco. You can’t get away with him, not by being
my godson or being Lucius Malfoy’s son. You go and you keep your head down. He would
want nothing more than to see your father sitting in a cell beside your aunt.”
Draco nodded.
They had their first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson on Friday. The entire school knew
of the Ferret incident by now and it was safe to say, no one in Slytherin liked Moody or his
classes. Hermione and her friends walked to the classroom in silence and no one dared to sit
in the chairs at the front row.
“Oh, yes,” Moody said upon seeing them. “You.” Hermione watched as his blue eye went
from face to face, lingering on Vince and Greg - both squirmed -, on Theo and then on her
and Draco.
“So — straight into it. Curses. They come in many strengths and forms. Now, according to
the Ministry of Magic, I’m supposed to teach you countercurses and leave it at that. I’m not
supposed to show you what illegal Dark curses look like until you’re in the sixth year. Well,
the other students anyway, I imagine you people have them for breakfast.” He said with a
scoff and then turned both eyes on Theo. She saw the boy curling both hands into fists.
“Professor Dumbledore’s got a higher opinion of your nerves, I have a different one, but my
opinion doesn’t matter much, so let’s get started. Mr Nott, if it feels too repetitive for you,
feel free to walk out.”
Hermione, who had told Theo she hated his father just the year before, was about to add
another person to her list of people she despised.
“The thing with Dark Curses, at least the ones I’m going to tell you now, is that the worse
they are, the more they require of the wizard or witch. They can’t be cast nonverbally. But
that isn’t to say that you don’t need to be alert and watchful and can be painting your nails
under the table, like Miss Greengrass.”
Everyone turned to watch Daphne jump and the vial of her nail polish scatter to the floor,
black polish painting the stones on the floor. It wasn’t just more than the exterior. He could
see through wood and out of the back of his head.
“So, tell me. Which are the most heavily punished curses by wizarding law?”
Almost everyone raised their hands. It was a far cry from most classes where she was the
only one raising her hand.
Draco hadn’t raised his hand, but it didn’t stop Moody from calling out his name. “Malfoy,
give me one.”
“The Imperius Curse.” He said, his voice clipped.
Moody scoffed, “Of course. It was a favourite back in the day, suddenly everyone was
claiming to be under it, wasn’t that right, Malfoy?”
Draco didn’t reply. If Hermione thought Professor Snape had been bad with the Gryffindors
all these years, now it was their turn to be on the receiving end of uncalled treatment.
Moody opened his desk drawer and took out a glass jar. Two large black spiders were
scuttling around inside it. He reached into the jar, caught one of the spiders, and held it in the
palm of his hand so that they could all see it. He then pointed his wand at it and muttered,
“Imperio!”
The spider leapt from Moody’s hand on a fine thread of silk and began to swing backwards
and forward as though on a trapeze. It stretched out its legs rigidly, then did a backflip,
breaking the thread and landing on the desk, where it began to cartwheel in circles. Moody
jerked his wand, and the spider rose onto two of its hind legs and went into what was
unmistakably a tap dance.
“Why aren’t you laughing?” He asked, “The Gryffindors found it all very funny.” He
commented, “Right, you probably know what it feels like, don’t you? Stripped of total
control,” he made the spider curl itself into a ball and roll around the desk as if it were a
bowling ball. “I could make it jump out of the window, drown itself or maybe, throw itself
down one of your throats.” He motioned all of that, going as far as positioning the spider just
above Pansy’s head. She was shaking in her seat. “Tell me Goyle, when did this curse bring
more trouble to the Ministry?”
Greg, who had never been called by a teacher, felt himself reddening at the attention. He
turned to Hermione in despair and she couldn’t do anything but nod in incentive. “When they
were trying to find out who was working for You-Know-Who by force or their free will.” He
told the class, voice trembling just a little.
“Exactly. What do you say? Do you think they did a good job?” Moody asked, sarcasm
dripping through his smirk.
“Yes,” Greg replied. And Hermione was impressed.
Moody scowled. “The Imperius Curse can be fought, and I’ll be teaching you how, but it
takes real strength of character, and not everyone’s got it, definitely not here, I just think it's
better if you avoid being hit with it if you can.” He told the class and Hermione noticed how
he was getting, little by little, slight by slight, every single one of her friends offended in his
class.
Moody picked up the somersaulting spider and threw it back into the jar.
“Anyone else want to tell me another one?”
“The Cruciatus Curse,” Draco said, his grey eyes glaring at their professor. Moody seemed to
find it funny.
“Oh yeah, that’s a family favourite, that one.” He said, his magical eye fixed on Draco.
Hermione never, in her entire life, had felt this absolute disgust towards another person. He
wasn’t brilliant, as Harry and Ron had said after their class. No, he was a repulsive and
loathsome man who found joy in being foul to teenagers. “You know boy, your aunt got
herself a cosy corner in Azkaban with the Cruciatus Curse.” He told the class at large. Draco
didn’t reply.
Turning back to the class at large, he reached into the jar for the next spider and placed it
upon the desktop, where it remained motionless, apparently too scared to move.
“The Cruciatus Curse,” said Moody. “Needs to be a bit bigger for you to get the idea,” he
said, pointing his wand at the spider. “Engorgio!” The spider swelled. It was now larger than
a tarantula. Moody raised his wand again, pointed it at the spider, and muttered, “Crucio!”
At once, the spider’s legs bent in upon its body; it rolled over and began to twitch horribly,
rocking from side to side. Moody did not remove his wand, and the spider started to shudder
and jerk more violently. Hermione closed her eyes, refusing to see. Despite not a single sound
coming from the spider, she knew that it would be screaming if it could. Hermione felt like
screaming herself.
“Stop it!” Blaise exclaimed. His voice sounded so angry. Hermione opened her eyes to see
Theo, who had his entire body rigid like he had been the one on the receiving end of the
course.
Blaise, a few seats back had clearly noticed the effect on his friend - or former friend, as
things were - and besides their current situation, had gotten angry on Theo's behalf. His own
hands were clenched upon the desk in front of him, the paper inside his fists was destroyed.
Moody raised his wand. The spider’s legs relaxed, but they continued to twitch. It was
horrible to watch. Theo had yet to remove his eyes from the window he was staring at.
“Reducio,” The professor muttered, and the spider shrank back to its proper size. He put it
back into the jar.
“Pain,” said Moody softly. “You don’t need thumbscrews or knives to torture someone if you
can perform the Cruciatus Curse.” He said. "That one was very popular once too. Probably
still is.” He added, putting his magical eye on Theo. “The last one of the Unforgivables. Who
wants to tell me?”
“Avada Kedavra,” Theo muttered, his eyes still locked on the glass panel.
They all shared looks. Theo was odd beyond his normal since the train. She had yet to get a
single smile out of him, Merlin, she hadn’t managed to get him to look real. “Yes, the last and
worst. Avada Kedavra. The Killing Curse.”
He put his hand into the glass jar and carried it all the way to where Hermione was sitting.
She grew tall on her seat. That got Theo’s attention and he looked behind himself and finally,
she saw a hint of emotion on those blue eyes of his. The professor placed the spider up on the
desktop and before it could scuttle across, he raised his wand. “Avada Kedavra!” Moody
roared.
There was a flash of blinding green light and a rushing sound. Hermione’s mind was miles
away, there wasn’t a classroom in front of her anymore. No, she saw a woman, kneeling in
front of a crib. The woman’s hands were on her face and she was crying.
“Don't let go of him, do you hear me? No matter what don’t let go of him.”
“Mummy,” she cried.
“I love you, you are going to be fine. I love you, baby girl, you are going to be fine.”
“Step aside, silly girl.” She heard a voice from the door, it wasn’t one that she knew.
Hermione made to look, but the woman held her face in place.
“Don't look. Don’t let go, darling.”
“Come on Hermione, let’s go.” She felt a hand on her shoulder and snapped out. It was a
memory. That was the spell that killed Lily. Her mother.
Hermione looked up. The entire class was looking at her. Theo was there, standing on her
side and tugging her up, she felt her legs obeying without any conscious nudge of her own.
“The class is not over, Mr Nott,” Moody told him.
“You said I could walk out if it felt too repetitive.” Theo replied, “well,” he shrugged. “It
really is. You just went over a three-course meal at the Nott Estate and guess what, I don’t
particularly care for dessert. Come on, Hermione. We are leaving.”
He didn’t give her much of a choice as he tugged her with him. She looked behind her and
saw Moody smiling. It was chilling. Without removing the magical eye of their backs,
Moody swept the dead spider off the desk onto the floor.
“Not nice,” he said calmly as if two students weren’t just leaving mid-class. “Not pleasant.
And there’s no counter-curse. There’s no blocking it. Only one known person has ever
survived it and that’s her brother.”
It was the last thing she heard before Theo made sure to bang it closed behind them.
Chapter End Notes
I'd like to tell my Ukranian readers that I'm very sorry for everything that has been going
on and that I hope you all can find peace and safety soon. Hungary's borders are open to
all of you, my university's dormitory at the campus in Debrecen is welcoming families
of refugees. We are all on your side.
I ask to all of you to reach out to your Ukranian friends, ask if they are okay and if they
need anything in these terrible and unjust times.
i've always liked to play with fire
Chapter Notes
Hello, hello!!
After last week's chapter many of you expressed your hatred towards Moody (or Barty
J.R or even both) and unfortunately it didn't require much creativity for that because I
literaly kept the same tone he used in his lessons with the gryffindors that we had in the
book. Knowing that is Barty there and what we know of him (that he hated nothing
more as the ones that avoided Azkaban for not proudly following their master) it's not a
stretch to believe he wouldn't be so kind to them, right?
Book 4 is quite big (I dread the next one lol) and I'm trying my best to not drag this to
make it bigger than it's needed so, I'm sorry if sometimes the story feels rushed in some
parts!
digital justice now you are gonna know us

hail to the king and queen of the ruckus yacht
money wired, no denying
Chapter Twenty Seven
“I don’t think we should have done that,” She said. They had found an alcove by the window
one floor down and had perched themselves on the windowsill.
“He’s the one who shouldn’t have done that.” Theo snapped. “He spent forty minutes baiting
fourteen-year-olds. He’s a grown-ass man and a former Auror.”
Hermione sighed. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, it’s just—” He shook his head. “You think it was ugly watching that spider under the
Cruciatus curse? It’s nothing compared to what it does to a human being. How much it makes
them scream.”
Hermione reached for his hand and squeezed. “I'm sorry, Theo.”
“Don't worry about me,” he shrugged it off, “are you okay? You went far away just then.”
Hermione told him what she saw after the spell. How Lily hadn’t run and instead met her fate
with brave eyes and so much love towards her children. After quick consideration, she told
him how she has been getting some snippets of memories since Narcissa began teaching her
Occlumency.
“It happens.” He told her. “When you learn to hide your memories, you also learn how to
bring others forward. You become more in control of your memories and what to do with
them.”
“That's what you’ve been doing, isn’t it?” She asked him, knowing full well that she was
risking him Occlude one more time. She had figured it out after watching her reflection on
the mirror before going to Moody’s class. The way her eyes became glazed was just like what
she had been seeing on Theo’s face every day. Theo looked away. “I hate it that you think
you have to hide from me.” She told him.
He remained in silence for a moment, before saying, “You haven’t told him.”
“Of course not, Theo."
“Did you know? About his feelings?”
“I did.” She told him and he looked at her, finally removing his eyes from the view of the
lake. She was glad to see that he wasn’t occluding. “He told me days after you did,”
Hermione told him. “Theo, what happened to the boy that said that going against your
father’s wishes was worth it? The boy who thought that he should do it again?”
“That boy knows exactly how much it’d hurt to lose the things he loves and how far his
father would be willing to go to make sure he lost them.”
“But Theo, every time you turn away from Blaise or keep any of us at arm’s length, you lose
pieces.”
Theo shook his head. “I’d rather lose pieces than to have either of you killed. I learned my
lesson of what happens to the people that I let it show just how much I love them. It won’t
ever happen again.”
“But it’s not right.” She said, “Blaise doesn’t deserve being given the cold shoulder. The least
you could do is tell him the truth.”
“He won’t leave it be.” Theo said and then sighed, “He has constantly kidnapped me for the
past four years every school holiday, no matter how many times I told him I’d be fine. He
won’t budge. It’s easier to push him away.”
“Is it?” She asked, “I don’t think hiding behind shields of Occlumency is easy.”
“I made my decision, Hermione.”
“And I’m telling you that you will regret it.”
“Are you going to side with him?”
Hermione felt her chest constricting. She was starting to grow to hate this word. “There is no
side between us.” She told him, her voice steady and just a little bit angry. “Theo, if we allow
ourselves to break apart, we've lost before we even began.” She said, "I left the Manor, you
know that, don’t you?” He nodded. “I stayed with Remus and Sirius, they were best friends in
Hogwarts, even more, and now they—” her voice got choked up and she decided that it was
better to skip a few things, “everything that happened to them was because they both pushed
one another away. I spent the last two weeks of our summer holidays watching what thirteen
years of regret does to a relationship. I won’t let you turn what we have into something ugly.”
He didn’t reply and they remained in silence until the bell rang indicating that their class had
officially ended.
On Monday morning, Hermione placed a box in front of her friends and Theo started handing
the pamphlets.
“What is this?” Blaise asked when he caught a pamphlet not so gently from Theo’s hand.
Hermione removed the lid on the box and they all leaned forward to peer inside. Pansy
reached inside first and removed a red badge. “Spew?” She asked. Greg snorted.
“Not spew,” Hermione replied. “It’s S-P-E-W. Stands for the Society for the Promotion of
Elfish Welfare.”
“Is this what you were doing in the library on our first week of classes?” Blaise asked.
“Yes.” She replied and started giving out badges to them. “Theo has been helping me go
through the existent—” she huffed, “or lack of, in this case, legislation on House Elves and
their welfare.” Hermione explained, “he agreed with me that it’s slave labour and we are
going to stop the outrageous abuse of our fellow magical creatures and campaign for a
change in their legal status. That’s the heading of our manifesto, by the way, you can read it
in its entirety in the pamphlets.”
Blaise was smirking and Draco had a similar expression on his face, but there was
amusement as well. She looked at them expectantly. Pansy sighed. “The things I do for you,
honestly,” the girl said, “but give me the green one, I won’t be caught wearing something
red.”
“It's two sickles for a badge.” She told Pansy.
“I have to pay?” Pansy asked, slightly outraged.
“Of course! How else do you think I will raise money for the campaign?” Hermione
explained.
Pansy reached inside her pockets, removed a handful of coins and gave two sickles to the tin
that Theo trusted in her direction. “I'm the treasurer,” Theo said and turned to Draco, “you
better hand more than two sickles, you rich bastard.”
Draco snorted and was about to complain, but she made puppy eyes at him and she saw him
waver and after a sigh, he reached for his pockets and put two galleons on the tin. Hermione
grinned and jumped on his neck. “Thank you!”
When she pulled back, she noticed that his ears were red and he sheepishly put another coin
inside the tin. Blaise chuckled and contributed as well.
She and Theo made everyone in her year pay for a badge and they put some pamphlets
around their common room. Hermione decided that she’d talk to Harry after lunch about it
and ask him and Ron to join as well.
Their first class of the day was Potions and if Hermione sneaked a badge and a pamphlet on
Snape’s table on her way to wash her cauldron, well none the wiser.
Hermione dragged Theo with her to talk to Professor McGonagall about her organisation, she
was certain that the professor could give them some pointers. Blaise, realising that Theo was
serious about helping Hermione, decided he was going to be the secretary of their
organisation and therefore had to be present at all meetings to record it. Theo said nothing
and when Hermione caught Blaise’s eyes, they winked at each other. She’d count as progress.
She found Harry and Ron when they were leaving their Charms lesson, Hermione rushed to
catch up with them, leaving her friends behind.
“Hey, Harry!” Hermione called and a few Gryffindors started pointing and whispering.
Hermione rolled her eyes. She has been friends with Harry for three years and now that it
turned out they were more, the two of them were subject to gossip every time they were
found together.
“Heya,” he greeted her with a smile. “How are you?”
“Good, good. And you?”
“I'm good too. Just got a reply from Sirius, was going to find you to show it to you.”
“Cool! Tell me—”
“What’s in the box?” Ron asked, pointing at it and cutting her off.
“Funny you should ask,” she said, not hiding the nasty look she gave him. Balancing the box
in one hand, she took off the lid and showed them the contents.
“‘Spew’?” Harry asked, reading it just like Pansy had done. “What’s this about?”
“Not spew,” she replied impatiently. “It’s an acronym. S-P-E-W. Stands for the Society for
the Promotion of Elfish Welfare.”
“Never heard of it,” Ron said with a shrug.
“Well, of course, you haven’t,” Hermione replied briskly, “I’ve only just started it.”
“Yeah?” Ron asked and raised an eyebrow defiantly. He was so ugly doing that. “How many
members have you got?” He scoffed.
“Ten." She replied with a raised eyebrow, "Twelve if you two join.”
“And you think we want to walk around wearing badges saying ‘spew,’ do you?”
Hermione felt her face heating up. “S-P-E-W!” She said hotly. “Honestly, it’s not that hard.”
She handed them a pamphlet each. Weasley didn’t bother opening his, Harry at least was
reading it. “I’ve been researching it thoroughly in the library. Elf enslavement goes back
centuries. I can’t believe no one’s done anything about it before now.” Ron groaned and
Hermione ignored him and turned to Harry. “Our short-term aims are to secure house-elves
fair wages and working conditions. Our long-term aims include changing the law about non-
wand use, and trying to get an elf into the Department for the Regulation and Control of
Magical Creatures because they’re shockingly underrepresented.”
“And how do we do all this?” Harry asked her.
She smiled at him. “We start by recruiting members,” she replied. “The more people
involved, the better to grab the attention of the important people.” She explained.
“Can you believe her?” Ron asked, she kept on.
“It’s two Sickles to join, the price of the badge. The money goes to fund more leaflets. Theo’s
sponsorship made us the fifty badges and pamphlets.”
Ron scoffed. “Did you have to threaten to get the snakes down there to cooperate?”
“I—”
“You do know that all of them own house-elves, right?” He barrelled on.
“I do. That’s why they are in a better position to understand the situation than you are. And
they agree with me.”
Another scoff. “I bet!” He turned to Seamus next to him and wiggled his eyebrows before
returning his attention to her. “Hermione — open your ears,” he said loudly and a few
Gryffindors around snickered. “They. Like. It. They like being enslaved!”
“No one likes being enslaved!” She retorted. “You saw Winky! She was terrified and hurt!
That shouldn’t be legal!”
Ron only laughed. She turned to Harry for support. “Two sickles, you said?” Her brother
asked. Hermione felt her eyes filling with tears. She nodded. “Give me a badge, I will pinch
it on my bag.”
“Thank you, Harry.” She said, sniffling a bit. Hermione turned to Ron.
“Forget it. I will probably get people to spew on me if I wear that.” He said. More people
laughed.
“Don't be mean.” Harry said to Ron, “I think it’s nice.” He told her. “I remember how
mistreated Dobby was and how happy he was when I got Lucius Malfoy to free him.”
Ron suddenly looked like he had swallowed something really awful.

Hermione turned to leave, she clearly wasn’t going to get members from that group. She
didn’t hear what was said, but loud laughter followed her to the Great Hall and swallowing
the lump on her throat, Hermione marched towards the Slytherin table.
“What happened?” Daphne asked when she sat down on her seat in front of the girl and
harshly put down the box.
“Weasley is a jerk.” She said and hated how her voice broke at the end. A few angry tears
escaped and she quickly brushed them away. Of course, it caught their attention.
“What did he do?” Draco asked.
“He kept making fun of my organisation, saying that the only thing he’d get with a badge
would be people spewing at him.”
Pansy huffed and threw a glare in the general direction of the Gryffindor table. “Hermione,
give me another one, I had an idea.” She rolled another two sickles down the table and Theo
quickly pocketed it.
“I don’t want pity money.” She mumbled.
“Please,” Pansy waved her off, “there's only one person that I pity in this castle and that’s
Weasley after I have my way with him and his ugly mug.” Pansy got her badge, another
green one, and with her wand transfigured the butterfly crutch into a clip. She smirked at her
own work, removed the pair of bow clips off her hair and replaced it with the badges.
Hermione smiled at her friend.
“Ooh!” Daphne gushed. “I like it! They are small enough and it totally works!” The blonde
had her hair on a braid and decided to do the same with her badge, pinning it to the band at
the end of her braid.
Hermione felt like crying again. “Thank you.” She said, her voice a bit shaky.
“All right,” Draco called, “everyone pay up! If Weasley thinks it’s funny, he’s going to have a
surprise coming.”
Her housemates, as always, were willing to jump into whatever form of ‘Weasley bashing’
currently available and she watched wide-eyed as people handed their coins in exchange for
their badges. Warrington, a seventh year, had as many badges as he could fit on the length of
his tie.
Once the box was empty, Theo smirked at the number of coins in his tin and told, “we will
have to make more, I guess.”
When Hermione’s birthday rolled around, half of the castle had S.P.E.W badges and rumour
had it that Snape spent fifteen minutes talking about house-elves to the Gryffindors because
he was certain that Professor Lupin had forgotten to cover them last year to the students. The
embarrassment on Ron’s face every time they crossed paths was enough of a birthday gift,
but she did get many other gifts.
All of her friends got her something, Narcissa, Remus and Sirius as well. Harry stepped up
on his gift-giving and gave her something other than chocolate from Honeydukes. Just like
last year, she got a present without any name on it, this time was a journal that put the
assignments close to the deadline or the most important ones at the front.
Weirdly, she got a present from Molly Weasley. Hermione frowned at the package and
opened it with a hint of suspicion. She had never talked with the woman. Hermione had met
her only once on that disastrous afternoon at Diagonal Alley.
Dear Hermione,
You might be aware that I consider Harry to be part of the family and when I learned about
you, I was immensely happy to know that you were alive and well all these years. I want to
wish you a happy birthday and extend my invitation to Harry to you. Your parents were old
friends of mine and it would be my pleasure to properly meet you.
Please know that you are more than invited to spend your summers now with us alongside
your brother.
With love,
Molly Weasley
Inside the package was a hand-knitted sweater, one that she had seen the many Weasleys
wearing. Hers was Slytherin green and had an H in silver in the middle.
“You are more than invited to spend your summers now with us,” Draco read the note, she
hadn't noticed he had stolen it. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Blaise snorted. “She left the Manor last summer, didn’t she? I bet the Weasleys know. Watch
out Granger, the good guys are trying to pull you away from the big, bad guys in Slytherin.
Next thing we know, they will call for a re-sorting.”
“She's exactly where she belongs,” Pansy said and held Hermione’s eyes. She smiled and
Pansy smiled as well. They had come a long way.
Later, when they were climbing the stairs to Moody's class, Draco told her: “Mother hated to
see you leave. I think she’d personally go to the Weasley’s house to remove you from there if
you were to go.”
“Why would I go there?” Hermione asked, “it makes no sense. And besides, I already have
two homes, I don’t need a third.” She told him and watched as he blushed beautifully.
“Your room misses you.” He said and winked, right before picking up his pace and leaving
her behind.
“Please stop flirting,” Pansy said and joined their arms. “It's spew inducing.”
“Please stop using my organisation's name like this.” Hermione rolled her eyes. “And we are
not flirting.”
“All right. You and Draco are not flirting just like Blaise and Theo aren’t gay for one
another.”
“Shut up,” they heard from behind them. Both Blaise and Theo had said it at the same time,
Hermione couldn’t keep a straight face at their mortified expression.
“I'm just gay,” Theo added.
“And I have abstained myself from jerks,” Blaise said.
Pansy laughed loudly and Hermione followed with a chuckle. Theo picked up his pace and
went ahead to where Draco was. “Merlin, what a pair of dysfunctional pureblood heirs.” She
said, eyes full of mirth at the backs of Theo and Draco. She raised her voice, enough to be
heard by them, “The Noble House of Malfoy and the Great House of Nott dependent on two
boys with tiny dicks.”
Said boys gave her the finger, which only amused her further. Blaise was grinning, “Thank
Pans.” He said.
“No worries, it’s my job as a fine pureblood girl to show these boys the path of life.”
“I thought it was to get one of them to marry you,” Hermione said. Pansy just waved her off.
“I think Blaise might be on something, after all. I decided to abstain myself from jerks as
well.”
Unfortunately, their good mood and laughter quickly died as they met with their professor for
Defence Against the Dark Arts. Apparently, their first-class hadn’t been bad enough, he now
wanted to put them under the Imperius Curse to make them learn how to resist.
It was humiliating, to say the least. He made them do all sorts of things and he wasn’t nice
about it. Hermione felt like crying. Daphne did cry. Theo, Blaise and Draco for their part,
looked ready to commit murder. It was the longest period of Hermione’s life, not even Binns’
classes took that long to finish.
Halfway through October, no one seemed to talk about anything other than the students from
the other schools. The news of Viktor Krum being part of the student body of Durmstrang
had spread and Hermione could hear all the boys making arrangements to look cool in front
of him. Blaise, for his part, was willing to offer his own bed to the boy, and he said it quite
loudly every time Theo was around.
Just like the enthusiasm with the Triwizard Tournament hadn’t died down, the ferret joke
hadn’t as well. For the first time, Draco was reaping the consequences of his own venom and
bullying.
Draco was still incredibly embarrassed and humiliated about the whole thing, so he mostly
ignored the comments and an evil part of her— you are not evil Hermione, Remus’ voice
reminded her — thought it was a bit deserving for all that he had done, not only to her but to
other students as well. However, Hermione put her foot down when the joke came from one
of the teachers.
Hagrid was delighted with their results and in the growth of the Skrewts, so in a bout of
excitement, he suggested that they all came down to his hut on alternate evenings to observe
the Skrewts and make notes on their extraordinary behaviour for a project.
That was too much for Draco, who complained twice a week every time they went out
towards the forest. “I will not,” he said flatly “I see enough of these foul things during
lessons, thanks.”
“Yeh’ll do wha’ yer told,” Hagrid growled, “or I’ll be takin’ a leaf outta Professor Moody’s
book. I hear yeh made a good ferret, Malfoy.” The Gryffindors roared with laughter. Malfoy
flushed with anger and embarrassment. Hermione glared and made the retort for him.
“And I will tell Professor Snape that you are threatening a student,” Hermione said, not
kindly.
Hagrid looked shocked by her outburst and the Gryffindors started murmuring. She ignored
them and kept feeding her own Skrewt, albeit a bit too forcefully.
“Hey,” Harry said, coming next to her.
“Hi yourself.”
“You got really mad that day.”
“Which day?” She asked, one month of class and she had lost her temper twice already.
“When Moody transfigured Malfoy.”
“Yeah, I did.”
“Was he really hurt?” Harry asked and Hermione turned to look at him. He had that same odd
expression she saw on him during the world cup when he witnessed Lucius sort of taking
care of her.
“Yes. He was.” She replied, unsure of why he was asking.
“I—” he hesitated, “you know I don’t like him.” Hermione snorted, that was an
understatement. “But he’s your best friend. And I understand why you keep defending him
because Ron—” he stopped at the nasty look she gave him at the mention of Ron, “yes, I
understand because Ron has been mean to you and he’s still my best friend.” He told her. “He
shouldn’t have made fun of you regarding S.P.E.W, he was wrong. I’m sorry. You are my
sister and—”
“You don’t need to defend me just because I’m your sister.” She cut him off.
“I know. I should defend you because it’s the right thing to do. God, I know you don’t need
me to defend you, not when you have all of those bodyguards of yours.” He motioned with
his head behind her and she turned to find her group of friends all loitering pretending not to
be trying to listen to their conversation. “I never had a family, Hermione. I don’t want to
screw up things with you.”
She gave him a smile, “thank you for apologising.”
It was a curious thing, apologies. The events of June were still fresh and chaotic in her mind,
which only made her letters to her parents - adoptive and fooled parents - shorter every time,
how could she keep writing to them when she knew something as big and life-changing as
that? And how long could she keep that from them? Hermione was lost on that front and she
hated being lost or not having the answers to a problem, but every time someone apologised
to her she felt like a weight had been lifted. Like her soul had been soothed a little.
When it was time to go to the Great Hall for dinner, the Slytherins found themselves unable
to pass through. There was a large crowd of students pushing one another to get a better view
of a large sign that had been erected at the foot of the marble staircase.
“Read it for us will you, Flagpole,” Blaise said, to whom Hermione thought it was directed at
Theo, the tallest of them all. Blaise was showing tremendous creativity in his attempt to
avoid calling Theo by name.
Theo was less than impressed. But he did read the sign for the rest of them. "TRIWIZARD
TOURNAMENT: The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving at 6
o’clock on Friday the 30th of October. Lessons will end half an hour early—”
“Oh no!” She cried, “That's Snape’s class!”
“—Students will return their bags and books to their dormitories and assemble in front of the
castle to greet our guests before the Welcoming Feast.”
“Oh, Salazar’s balls that’s next week! Hermione, we need to hurry!” Pansy told her.
“Hurry for what?”
“You know what!” Pansy shrieked, “come, we need to go—”
“I'm hungry Pans”
“See it as a protest against the slave labour, think of the house-elves Hermione!” Pansy
retorted and started pulling Hermione back in the direction of the dungeons.
Hermione huffed, as she knew quite well that Pansy wasn’t averse to going down to the
kitchens for her midnight snacks.
They got to their dorm and as soon as Pansy closed the door, she started removing her shirt
and her bra. “What are you doing?”
“We are going to try the spell. I think I know what we can use.”
“Do we need to try with you shirtless?” Hermione asked

“Well, of course! We need to know if it’s working and besides, they are nice to look at, don’t
you think?”
Hermione couldn’t hold back her snort. “I guess.”
“Ugh, what an unflattering reply,” Pansy said and then grinned. “That's why we need to
upgrade these things.”
“You know this is quite ridiculous, right?”
“For you, maybe,” Pansy said and sat crosslegged on Hermione’s bed, Hermione followed
suit. “Do you remember when Mad-Eye used Engorgio on the spider?” Hermione nodded and
was terrified about where this was going. “I did some research and we can use it to enlarge
specific objects—”
“Objects!”
“My boobies are an object of my body”
“I don’t think that’s how it works”
“Will you a least try?” Pansy asked, already growing annoyed, “it's my boobies that we are
talking about, if something goes wrong we can always go to Madam Pomfrey.”
“All right, but maybe we should practice Engorgio with specific things that are not in our
body first, to make sure that we at least know what we are doing.”
Pansy agreed and together they began casting the spell in random things around their
bedroom. Pansy tried on the left sleeve of her sweater and got the entire left side of it to grow,
her eyes widened. “Yes, great idea Hermione. Please never let me do anything without
running by you first.”
Hermione giggled but she agreed.
They were still practising when the other girls arrived and they all watched Hermione’s and
Pansy’s slow improvement. It was well into the night and half of the bedroom was
mismatching in size. Daphne’s bed had a column larger than the rest, the lock on Tracy’s
trunk was the size of the trunk itself and Hermione’s shoelaces were the size of an alpinist’s
rope.
“Girls,” Milli said when it was almost two in the morning, “you are doing great, there’s no
denying that. But these are all inanimate stuff, a body part is alive, isn’t it? I might not be
smart like Hermione but I’m sure the properties are different.”
“Milli is right,” Hermione said, “we already got the hang of it, but it’s no guarantee that it’s
going to work on your body.”
Pansy huffed. “So we need to try on someone to check.” She said and looked around between
the girls.
“No,” Daphne said. “I'm out.”
“Me too.” Milli and Tracey said.
Pansy rolled her eyes, “ugh, you are no fun. Okay, I will figure it out.” She said, “let's go to
bed, we have to get up soon anyway.”
Two days before the other schools arrived, Pansy found her hit. Hermione should have seen it
coming. She should have connected the dots but she only realised what Pansy was trying to
do when the girl had her wand out and pointed at Ron.
“Did you just threaten me, you cow?” Ron asked after Pansy casually told him that he should
have his hair cut if he didn’t want to wake up bald. That was right after Ron found Hermione
and Pansy promoting S.P.E.W and told them that since they were so eager to free the elves
from the kitchens they should replace them there.
Pansy scoffed and easily avoided being snatched back by Hermione. “Of course, not,” Pansy
said with a smile, Hermione knew all of her smiles to know it was one of the fake ones. The
girl took a step closer to Ron and honestly, he was at least fifteen centimetres taller than
Pansy. It shouldn’t have looked intimidating. “Because if I did, it would have looked like
this.” And with a twist of her wand, the tie around Ron’s neck began to tighten and his
already reddened face started to get purple. “If you say another thing about me or my best
friend that I find slightly unpleasant be aware that after I suffocate you with that tie I will
make you eat it.” Pansy pulled away and the tie loosened around Ron’s neck, he gasped and
scurried back.
“You are crazy! You almost killed me!”
“That’s right. Almost.” Pansy nodded “let’s leave at that.”
“You are evil! You know that right?” He yelled at Pansy, “And you!” He turned to Hermione,
“you should be ashamed of yourself, hanging out with them after these people did to Harry’s
family! Maybe the rumours were true, maybe you are a darker witch than You-Know-Who
and that’s why you were sorted into Slytherin!”
“Engorgio!” Pansy said, her voice pointed straight at Ron’s mouth. Both girls watched wide-
eyed as Ron’s tongue grew and grew and fell down to the floor and he gasped and almost fell
forward with the weight of it. He tried to hold it in his hands but was failing miserably.
“What on Merlin’s name is happening here!” Professor McGonagall shrieked. Pansy still had
her wand out and Ron was trying to remove his tongue from the floor. It wasn’t really a
question, they all knew. “Miss Parkinson you are well aware that it’s forbidden to hex other
students! Detention! And ten points from Slytherin!”
Pansy huffed and turned around to go, Hermione quietly followed before McGonagall
decided to put her in detention as well. The raven-haired girl was quiet, but she kept a smirk
on her face all the way back to the Slytherin Common Room.
“I guess the spell will work.” She said finally when they were back in their Common Room.
The week preceding the other school’s arrival was tense. Hermione felt that the entire staff
was nervous about the delegations, not only the students. The castle had been thoroughly
cleaned, from its stone floors to the portraits and suit of armours. More and more points were
removed from students if they were caught with their uniforms out of place. Even during
class, the professors got more rigid, as if they wanted Hogwarts students to suddenly perform
better and impress the other schools.
Hermione and Pansy got the spell done right before breakfast on the day the delegations
would arrive. Hermione thanked the heavens that it worked, she was terrified that they would
have to go to their head of house explain themselves if something went wrong.
The girls in their dormitory ooh-ed and aah-ed when they saw it. Pansy was incredibly happy,
she twirled and giggled when her bra was too tight and she had to get one of Milli’s.
“I was ready to tell you that your worth and beauty are not dependent on the size of your
boobies,” Daphne began, “but they are quite lovely and I’m happy that you are happy.” She
said and Pansy grinned.
The boys were quick to notice. Vince, Greg and Draco had the same reaction: eyes wide as
saucers and jaw slack. Hermione didn’t feel jealous, instead, she found it quite funny how
predictable boys were.
The morning passed in a blink, they were too excited and the professors had difficulty
herding them to pay attention during the lessons. Even Snape, the strictest of them all gave up
and let them go earlier with a comment that ‘if they were so eager to be an embarrassment in
front of other students they could at least be clean and proper’.
Finally, the head of houses gathered their students in front of the castle. Snape was literally
pushing the ones less physically favoured to stand behind. And Pansy, after a look in her
direction that showed she had one less button buttoned.
First, Beauxbatons arrived. They came in a gigantic, powder-blue, horse-drawn carriage, the
size of a large house, soaring in the sky, pulled by a dozen of winged palomino horses of the
size of elephants. On the door of the carriage, there was a coat of arms: two crossed, golden
wands, each emitting three stars. The symbol of Beuxbatons Academy of Magic.
A gigantic woman, Hermione was certain that she was bigger than Hagrid, stepped out of the
carriage and into the light flooding from the entrance hall. Despite her abnormal height, she
was beautiful.
“It's Madam Maxime,” Daphne whispered next to her.
Dumbledore started to clap and they all followed suit. Madam Maxine seemed to enjoy the
applause and her face morphed into a gracious smile and she walked forward toward
Dumbledore, extending a glittering hand. Dumbledore, though tall himself, had barely to
bend to kiss it.
“My dear Madame Maxime,” he said. “Welcome to Hogwarts.”
They exchanged a few words, but Hermione’s attention had shifted to the students coming
out of the carriage. She had seen those uniforms only in the shops last year during her visit to
Place Cachée. There were a dozen boys and girls now standing behind Madame Maxime.
They were shivering, which was unsurprising, given that their robes were made of fine silk
and were definitely not proper to the weather of the Scottish Highlands.
“I wouldn’t mind snuggling to one or two boys over there to share body heat,” Blaise said in
a fake whisper. They were well aware that he wanted Theo to listen.
“Please,” Draco said, “knowing you, you’d snuggle to them all.”
Professor Snape, who didn’t trust Hermione’s group and had decided to stand close to them,
swatted at both boys in the back of their heads. “For the love of Merlin, behave.”
Madam Maxim and her students got inside to warm up and they remained there waiting for
Dumstrang to arrive. They kept looking at the sky in the same direction that Beauxbatons had
arrived, but were surprised when one student yelled and pointed at the lake.
Some disturbance was taking place deep in the centre; great bubbles were forming on the
surface, waves were now washing over the muddy banks — and then, out in the very middle
of the lake, a whirlpool appeared, as if a giant plug had just been pulled out of the lake’s
floor. They gasped. Snape groaned and could swear he heard him mutter “show off” under his
breath. Slowly, something began to rise out of the whirlpool and they found themselves
watching as a huge ship rose out of the water, gleaming in the moonlight. It had a strangely
skeletal look about it, as though it were a resurrected wreck, and the dim, misty lights
shimmering at its portholes looked like ghostly eyes. It glided towards the bank and they
watched as the anchor was thrown into the water and a plank was lowered.
The people coming out of the ship were much more prepared for the weather, as they all were
wearing huge furs. Hermione recognised the man at the front. It was Karkaroff.
“Dumbledore!” Said man called heartily as he walked up the slope. “How are you, my dear
fellow, how are you?”
“Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff,” Dumbledore replied.
“Dear old Hogwarts,” he said, looking up at the castle and smiling. “How good it is to be
here, how good! Viktor, come along, into the warmth—” and it was like chaos had installed.
Every pair of head turned and murmuring began as the boy behind Karkaroff got into view.
“It's him!” Blaise whispered, “he really came!”
Hermione watched the quidditch player look around, his face showing just a hint of his
curiosity. He seemed eager to get inside, or at least, to escape the many eyes staring at him.
When they returned to the Great Hall, they found that the Beauxbatons students had found a
seat on the Ravenclaw table. A few Gryffindors started motioning to get the Durmstrangs
students to seat with them and Hermione rolled her eyes. Slytherin of course, thought they
were too cool for that and all went to their table without making a fuss. She know that deep
down they all wanted the glory of having Viktor Krum at their table.
He seemed to feel her staring, because he turned around to look straight at her. Hermione was
surprised to see recognition colouring his features and his eyebrows going up. She offered a
small smile before walking in the direction of her table.
She had barely sat down on her seat when her housemates grew tall next to her. Pansy
adjusted her shirt, she knew the Raven-haired girl wasn’t opposed to opening another button.
The durmstrang students sat down on the Slytherin table and Viktor Krum sat right in front of
her.
Draco, on her side, leaned in to talk to him, “H-”
“Hermy-own-ninny," he said. Draco leaned back.
“Oh,” She said surprised. “You remember!”
“Of course!” He replied with a nod, like the mere suggestion that he’d have forgotten her was
absurd. “Have you been well, Hermy-own-ninny?”
“Yes, I have. Thank you. And you?”
He flushed at the question and only nodded his answer. Hermione smiled. Draco huffed. Theo
smirked.
Their attention shifted to the high table, where Filch were adding four more chairs, two on
each side of Dumbledore. “Who else is coming?” Hermione asked. Draco shrugged. She
arched an eyebrow in his direction, confused as to why he had decided to go mute all of
sudden.
Dumbledore entered the Hall, they watched in suppressed amusement as Beauxbatons

students raised as their headmaster entered and only resumed their seating once Madam
Maxime had sat down. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and — most particularly
— guests,” said Dumbledore, beaming around at the foreign students. “I have great pleasure
in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both
comfortable and enjoyable.” He said. “The tournament will be officially opened at the end of
the feast, I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!”
As soon as he sat down, Karkaroff leaned forward and both man started a conversation.
Hermione wondered how much a man who attended Narcissa’s balls and was close to Lucius
had to talk with Dumbledore.
The plates in front of them filled with food as usual. Hermione felt her good-humour leaving
her at the sight of it. Of course. There was much more food than usual and many more
variety. Hermione could recognise a few French dishes and the ones she didn’t, she assumed
it was Bulgarian or some other slavic cuisine. No one knew for certain where Durmstrang
Institute was located.
Hermione opened her mouth and before a single syllable could be formed, she felt a kick on
her calf. Pansy was glaring in her direction and there was a clear warning to keep quiet in
front of the Durmstrang students. She closed her mouth. For now.
Halfway through dinner, the other two guests arrived and Hermione recognised them as Ludo
Bagman and to Hermione’s mood downfall, Mr. Crouch. “He should be embarrassed after
what happened at the world cup!” Hermione said, to the despair of her classmates. Pansy
looked nervously between her, Krum and the Durmstrang student near him.
“Why?” Krum asked, in that heavy accent of his.
“Because,” Hermione started to the horror of Vince and Greg. Pansy looked resigned and
Theo was still smirking, what he found so amusing was beyond her, “on the night of the final
game of the World Cup, there was a house-elf siting by herself and the poor thing looked
terrified to be there, but because her Master had ordered her to be there, she didn’t have any
choice but to obey.” Hermione told him. Pansy, next to her, was hiding her face behind her
palms. “Later, when everyone was trying to ran and save their lives, I found the elf again, she
was hurting herself because she wanted to ran and escape as well, but couldn’t! Because her
master had ordered her to stay put! She was being trampled! Without any chance of saving
herself!”
“That's terrible.” He said, his voice deep and offended. Pansy spied between her fingers.
“It is!” She agreed and smiled. Hermione noticed the tip of his nose reddening. “And she was
Mr. Crouch elf, that’s why I don’t like him.”
Krum looked at the man in question, he wasn’t smiling, from Hermione’s point of view, he
looked quite nervous. “I don’t like it.” He said when he turned his head to look at her again.
Testing it, she gave him another smile, this time she saw his ears reddening. Oh. She thought
pleasantly. "That’s why I began my organisation. I aim to improve House-Elves’s rights and
stop this slavery and abuse towards the species.”
Theo, amazing friend that he was, slid a leaflet to her.
“Where did you get that from?” Draco asked, hissed really.
“I keep a few with me all the time. We never know when she will go off.” He explained with
a shrug.
“Here,” she said, handing it to Krum, “it’s—”
“The moment has come,” said Dumbledore, cutting her off and stealing the attention.
“Hermy-own-niny, I’d love to hear more about it later.” He told her and pocketed the leaflet.
Hermione was very pleased and quite charmed.
“The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation
before we bring in the casket, just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year.
But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of
the Department of International Magical Cooperation” people applauded. No one around
Hermione was stupid enough to do the same “and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the
Department of Magical Games and Sports.” She knew he was a Quidditch star and wasn’t
surprised with the amount of cheers and applause that he received. “Mr. Bagman and Mr.
Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the
Triwizard Tournament,” Dumbledore continued, “and they will be joining myself, Professor
Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions’ efforts.”
Dumbledore motioned for Filch to bring in the casket. It was a very old looking wooden
chest encrusted with jewels. People began murmuring and interest was palpable. Dumbledore
explained the rules and how every arrangement to each of the three tasks that the tournament
consisted off was already made. He explained that each school would draw a champion to
represent them and that they’d be evaluated not only by their magical prowess, but by their
daring, their powers of deduction and the ability to cope with danger.
Hermione stole a glance at Draco, he was at the edge of his seat, excitement palpable as his
legs jumped up and down. She put a hand on his thigh to still it. He looked at her hand before
looking at her. “What?” He asked.
She didn’t know how to explain or why it had suddenly squeezed her heart, but she felt such
an enormous relief that he wasn’t old enough to participate, that he’d be safe. Hermione knew
him well enough that if he had the age, even if he didn’t have the nerve, he’d want to
participate because of his name. “Nothing.”
Draco watched her a little longer and it felt like he understood, because he patted her hand
and squeezed it. Neither of them let go.
“—the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The
champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire.” He took out his wand
and tapped three times upon the top of the casket. The lid creaked slowly open. Inside, there
was a large, roughly hewn wooden cup. It would have been entirely unremarkable had it not
been full to the brim with dancing blue-white flames.
“Did you do it?” Blaise asked her with a grin and she chuckled. She wished her blue flames
were as beautiful as those.
Dumbledore closed the casket and placed the goblet carefully on top of it, making it clearly
visible to everyone in the Hall.
“Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school
clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet,” said Dumbledore. “Aspiring
champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night,
Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to
represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be
freely accessible to all those wishing to compete. To ensure that no underage student yields to
temptation,” said Dumbledore, “I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire
once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able
to cross this line. Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this
tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet
of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your
name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart
once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are
wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is
time for bed. Good night to you all.”
Chapter End Notes
This chapter is also a bit lighthearted and we have a break from the seriousness of the
story (and unfortunately the world) and have them being the little spoiled 14 and 15 year
olds that they are lol
I hope you all enjoy it and let me know in the comments what you all think!
The title and the quotes at the beginning belong to Play With Fire (feat Yacht Money) by
Sam Tinnesz
our steady true north faces
Chapter Notes
Hello!! I hope everyone has been well!
TW: BLOOD at the very end of the chapter.
I hope you enjoy this one!
another pin pushed in

to remind us where we've been
and every miles adds up
and leaves a mark on us
Chapter Twenty Eight
Hermione should have expected it.
But she couldn’t believe it. She, just like her friends, spent the entire Saturday watching
people coming and dropping their names inside the Goblet. She saw Harry watching it as
well. He never even got near to it.
She had stood. As well as Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape. Every face had turned
to Harry.
“Unbelievable.” Theo muttered.
Harry didn’t move and soon the silence turned into buzzing. Dumbledore called his name
again and Harry slowly began to move.
“He can’t!” She said, amidst the silence, it was like she had shouted. Her eyes met his from
the other side of the hall.
“I didn’t do it.” He mouthed at her. Hermione nodded.
She watched him disappear from the same door the other three champions had gone.
Hermione felt her hands shaking.
Just the night before, she had felt relieved from knowing that Draco would be safe, but she
had forgotten that her brother was the magnet for trouble and bad-luck. “Come on, let’s go
back.” Blaise said, pulling her.
“He can’t—”
“I know Granger, I know.” He said. “There's nothing you can do today, eh? You can force
them to see things your way tomorrow.” She was so stunned that she didn’t even bother to be
mad at the jab at her and allowed herself to be pulled back to their common room.
And Blaise was right after all, she’d make them see things her way tomorrow.
Back at her dormitory, she went straight to her room after a parchment and a quill. She’d
write Sirius and Remus, she’d get them here at the Castle before Dumbledore could as much
think of putting Harry in danger. Hermione wrote down tonight’s events and she was certain
that her tone had been clearly translated into the letter. She marched straight to the boys'
room. Greg, who was in the middle of removing his pants, shrieked. “For Merlin’s sake
Hermione!” She didn’t even look in his direction, but heard the rustle of the curtain around
his bed.
“Can I have your owl?” She asked Draco and he nodded. She watched as he opened the
window and did that weird, creepy but incredibly cool whistle thing and they waited for his
eagle owl to appear and perch on the windowsill. Theo had gone to the bathroom to change
and Blaise was waiting on the other side of the door for his turn. He was glaring. She was
certain that they had fought yet again in the ten minutes it took her to write the letter and
barge inside the boys’ room.
“Who are you writing?”
“Remus and Sirius.” She replied just as the owl arrived. Hermione tied the letter to the bird’s
leg and scratched its head, she giggled when the bird leaned closer. “Take this to Remus
Lupin, please Aeneas.”
Aeneas hooted and took flight. “He didn’t even care about me. Even my owl likes you
better.”
“I'm certain you will survive.” She told him.
“I'm not so sure, there’s no much my ego can—”
“Oh, for Merlin’s sake!” Blaise groaned. “Spare us for bloody five minutes, will you? And
get on with it Beanstalk!” He pounded on the door.
Hermione rolled her eyes and Draco sighed.
It took her a single glance at Ron sitting alone at the Gryffindor table for her to know that he
had gone and acted like a jerk. She sighed. Hermione ate her breakfast quickly and grabbed a
stack of toast. “I will go find my brother, see you guys later.”
She found Harry exiting the Fat Lady's portrait. “Hello,” she said, holding up the food and
offering to him, “I brought you this. Want to go for a walk?”
There was a sea of gratitude in the green of his eyes. “Good idea,”
They went downstairs, crossed the entrance hall quickly without looking in at the Great Hall.
Thankfully they didn’t cross anyone on their way, Hermione noticed how uncomfortable
Harry was. They strode across the lawn toward the lake, where the Durmstrang ship was
moored. It was a chilly morning for the first morning of November and they kept walking,
too windy to stay put somewhere outside, and between bites on his toast, Harry told her
exactly what had happened after he left last night.
“Well, of course I knew you hadn’t entered yourself,” she said. “The look on your face when
Dumbledore read out your name! But the question is, who did put it in? I hate to say it, but
Moody’s right, Harry. You saw what happened to Fred and George, and others who tried to
fool the Goblet. I don’t think any student could have done it.”
Harry scoffed. “Tell that to Ron” He said.
Hermione sighed. “I don’t actually think that he thinks you entered.”
“That wasn’t what he said last night.”
“Well, Ron is known for running his mouth, isn’t he? But you know what’s wrong, don’t
you?”
“No?”
“Oh Harry, isn’t it obvious?” Hermione said despairingly. “He’s jealous!”
“Jealous?” Harry asked incredulously. “Jealous of what? Of me making a prat out of myself
in front of the entire school?”
“Look,” Hermione started and just hesitated a bit. Maybe now that she was his sister she’d
get clearance to talk about Ron. “It’s always you who gets all the attention, you know it is. I
know it’s not your fault,” she added, when he looked ready to comment. “I know you don’t
ask for it but, well, Ron’s got all those brothers to compete against at home, and you’re his
best friend, and you’re really famous—” She hesitated before continuing, “he’s been nastier
to me since we found out that we are siblings. Before, he never saw me as someone he had to
worry, but now I’m not just your friend, I’m actually your sister and, it’s different, isn’t it?
Ron and I stood side by side when it came to your family, now I share it with you. I guess this
was just another blow.”
“Great,” he bitterly. “Really great.” They had just turned around and were walking through
the Quad when they spotted two people coming from the suspension bridge. Harry continued
"Tell him from me I’ll swap any time he wants. Tell him from me he’s welcome to it, tell him
—is that Sirius?” He asked, his feet suddenly stopping.
Hermione turned to take a better look and yes, it was Sirius and Remus. “Er, now maybe it’s
a good time to tell you that I wrote to them last night?”
“What?” He asked. “Why?”

“I was right! You just told me they are going to make you compete! Harry, you have someone
who cares about you and your safety. Harry, you are a minor. They had no place into deciding
that without a guardian present. Well, I brought your guardian.”
They were getting closer now and even though Harry seemed a bit upset with her decision,
his happiness in seeing his godfather weighted more.
“Two bloody months,” Remus was muttering when he pulled her to a hug, while Sirius did
the same to Harry.
Sirius hugged her next, “thank you for writing me.”
“How did you get here so fast?”
“That bloody owl is fast.” Sirius replied. “All but threw your letter on my face last night. We
apparated to Hogsmeade and took the Whomping Willow passage to the grounds.”
Harry grinned.
“They are making him compete.” Hermione said, her tone nervous and the adults looked at
Harry. He was nervous and even anxious, but Harry had never been allowed to complain in
his life, so he didn’t know how. Thankfully for them, Hermione had been sorted into
Slytherin and had been witness to nothing but complaints for the past four years.
“Over my dead body,” Sirius snarled.
“Please, let’s not be rash. We might have at least three people in there who might want just
that.” Remus added.
They entered the castle just as McGonagall was exiting the Great Hall.
“Looking gorgeous as ever, Professor McGonagall.” Sirius called. She halted.
Professor McGonagall looked from one face to the other. To Sirius’ sleazy smile, Harry's
anxious face, Remus’ concerned expression and Hermione’s bubbling anger. She addressed
Hermione first. “I will never repeat this, but Narcissa Malfoy did teach you right.” And with
a sigh, “it's Deputy Headmistress now, Black.”
“We want to see the Headmaster,” Remus said and she sighed.
“Of course you do.” She replied. “Probably the first time I’m glad to take you two to him.”
McGonagall didn’t agree then, with the decision of Harry participating on the tournament.
Together, they walked up the steps towards the Headmaster tower and this time they weren’t
so lucky as to avoid other students. Everyone they passed pointed and whispered. Remus
greeted a few of the students and Sirius was happy to wave to everyone.
Professor McGonagall said the password and Remus leaned down to whisper on her ear
before they climbed the last steps. “Shields up.”
Hermione nodded.
Alastor Moody was there, was the first thing she noticed. Did Remus know? Had he smelled
his presence? They were days away from the full moon, it couldn’t be. Maybe he wanted her
to shield from Dumbledore? He knew how her thoughts towards the headmaster weren’t the
kindest ones.
They were waiting for them as they opened the door. Hermione was certain that Moody had
seen it with his blue eye, which was now going over their godfathers. “What a nice surprise!”
Dumbledore said, his eyes glinting and his lips quirked in a smile.
Hermione felt her hands curling. Remus shot her a warning look, but he wasn’t much better,
she had seen the way he had taken a step closer to Sirius.
“Mr Black and Mr. Lupin want to talk with you Headmaster, about the Tournament.”
“I see.” He replied, “come, do you want a seat? Maybe a lemon drop?"
“Harry's not competing.” Sirius said, straight to the point. Dumbledore had let him rot in
Azkaban.
Moody made a sound at the back of his throat. “His name came out of the Goblet. There’s
nothing we can do.”
Dumbledore was still smiling, he looked at he big clock behind his desk, “it's just past ten.
The prophet hasn’t posted the Champions yet, I wonder how did the news travel so fast?”
Sirius smiled, “You know me headmaster, I managed to keep an eye on Harry while I was on
the run, I wouldn’t slack now, would I?”
Dumbledore hummed, but his eyes went to Hermione. She kept her shields in place and felt
cold when she noticed a tentative brush against them. Her face didn’t betray her, she made
sure to keep her face passive and allowed Dumbledore to try to intrude, fury burning as he
tried to enter her mind uninvited and unwanted.
“It's a binding contract Black.” Moody said, “I'm sure you know what those are.”
“I do. As I know that is illegal for a minor to enter binding contracts without his or her
guardian’s authorisation.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Moody drawled and moved closer, hitting his staff on the floor as he did.
“But the Goblet is ancient magic, it doesn’t fall to these rules. I’m afraid Potter doesn’t have
a choice in this.”
No.
“But this is absurd!” She screeched. Hermione felt another brush on her mind, as if trying to
get entrance with her outburst. She smirked on the inside. Narcissa Malfoy taught me, you old
fool. Her shields were strong and steady. “He doesn’t have to do anything!” Hermione paced.
“He’s a child! He’s fourteen! It’s clear that someone put Harry’s name in there because they
want him dead! Which is nothing new, now is it? A binding contract, my ass!”
Sirius was looking at her like she was his favourite thing in the world. Remus looked
resigned.
“I had the pleasure to meet your mother Miss Potter,” Moody said. Hermione hated him. “She
had the same fire as you do. Quite a sight, wasn’t it?” He asked then to Sirius and Remus,
“it's a shame she doesn’t have Lily’s hair or eyes, the resemblance would be uncanny.”
The door opened again, they looked behind them to see Snape entering. Sirius snarled.
Remus rolled his eyes. Great.
“School reunion?” He asked, feigning surprise. Hermione had no doubt that he had learned
from one of the many students that were probably gossiping about them and came to see it
for himself.
“Sirius has come to tell me that he doesn’t approve of Harry’s participation. Hermione seems
to hold the same belief.” Dumbledore replied.
“I thought this had been hurriedly sorted last night.” Snape said and came to stand beside
McGonagall. Hermione fought the smirk, she loved a good jab.
“Exactly.” Dumbledore said, missing or ignoring Snape’s comment. "Sirius, I’m afraid the
panel has discussed this matter yesterday. The other schools weren’t happy with the turn of
events, if we were to try to disrespect the rules further, the other delegations will certainly
believe that Hogwarts is not being honest. Harry’s name came out and we—”
“His name came out?” Hermione repeated. "Big deal! The panel consists of you, Mr.
Bagman, Mr. Crouch, Karkaroff and Madam Maxime, Headmaster.” She remembered to add
the title just in time. "You know he didn’t put his name on the Goblet, you know he can’t
compete, just ignore it! Get him a fancy outfit if you must, but leave him out of it!”
Dumbledore smiled at her. “I'm afraid is not that easy, Hermione.”
“Why not?” She asked. “You said it during the welcome feast that the tasks in the tournament
are going to be difficult and dangerous and that it was highly unlikely that students below
sixth and seventh year were going to be able to cope with them. Harry has barely started his
fourth year!”
“Hogwarts is supposed to be safe Headmaster,” Sirius said. His tone was weird, controlled
somehow. “Harry has had trial after trial since he started his schooling. If you allow him to
compete you are going to be feeding him straight into the hands of whoever put his name in
that goblet and wants him in danger.” Hermione nodded. Exactly. “My godson won’t be made
of bait.”
“Curiously,” Moody started and circled around them, “I don’t see Potter saying a single thing
about this. We should hear him, shouldn’t we?” He turned to Harry, with both normal and
creepy eye. She saw Harry shifting his weight and looking between the adults.
Dumbledore was smiling, his eyes twinkling, as he looked anxiously to Harry. McGonagall
seemed nervous, she didn’t want Harry to participate, but she didn’t seem to have a say in the
matter. Snape was looking at Moody, while Sirius and Remus looked patiently at Harry.
“Er—” He started, Hermione bit her lower lip. She knew him well enough that she knew
what he was going to say. “I don’t need to win the tournament, right? I just have to
participate and try not to get killed while at it,” he tried to give them a smile, “I happen to be
good at that.”
Moody clapped his hands, “that's settled then! Very much like your father, Potter. He was
also very brave.”
Sirius loved talking about James, Sirius was always the first to tell Harry how much father
and son resembled but this time, this time Sirius looked furious. Remus touched Sirius’
elbow and when Sirius looked at him, they seemed to have a conversation without words.
“It's a pity the two of you had to come all the way here.” Dumbledore said, “but know that
you are more than invited to stay for lunch if you’d like.”
“Thank you for the invitation, Headmaster” Remus said, polite to the end. “But if the kids
would join us, we’d like to take them to Hogsmeade for the day. Maybe this allowance, you
could give?”
Dumbledore smiled. “Of course, enjoy!”
“Family outing, how lovely!” Moody said, it was clearly sarcastic.
Severus watched the four of them go, he pretended not to notice Moody's blue eye trained on
him. Severus’ unease with the former Auror grew by the second. McGonagall left after them,
as disappointed as she was last night when Harry’s name came out of the goblet. All of them,
paws in a bigger game. No matter how close they thought they were with their Headmaster,
they’d would never be his equal.
“Severus, if you could have a moment, I’d like a word.” Dumbledore said and he nodded.
“Let's catch up later Alastor,” he told Moody and the man grumbled something that Severus
assumed was accordance.
Moody left and Severus pretended not to noticed Albus moving his fingers subtly to cast
something on the door that probably stopped Moody from listening in and seeing through if
he were inclined to, which Severus didn’t doubt it.
“The girl is fiery.” Dumbledore commented.

Severus hummed. “Considering the amount of trouble her housemates gave her in the past,
I’m not surprised.” He said. But he knew the girl had always been that way. She had that
same furious expression the day he met her.
“Alastor told me what he saw the day he transfigured the Malfoy boy.” Dumbledore said,
Severus dreaded the eager tone in his voice, “Hermione's reaction was—” He stopped to
consider his words. “Physical almost. I don’t think she’s aware of her full power yet.
“What power?” He asked, cautiously. Any smidge of emotion from him and Dumbledore
would keep his thoughts to himself.
“Lily sacrificed herself for her children. Hermione of course, wasn’t Voldemort’s target, but I
don’t think that Lily was willing to take that gamble.” He said, Severus remained in silence.
He knew exactly just how much Lily wasn’t willing. “Sirius might think I want to keep him
from Harry on purpose, but what he doesn’t know is that Lily’s sacrifice created a blood ward
to both of them. Harry’s is still strong, as we saw during his first year when Quirrell couldn’t
touch him without having his hands burnt. The question Severus, is just how much Harry’s
protection is Lily’s and how much is Hermione’s.”
His throat closed. “What do you mean?”
“If we consider what Alastor told me, Hermione’s protective stand towards the Malfoy boy
was strong enough to create a barrier, a shield if you may, between her and the boy. He could
see it with his magical eye, but Minerva said she could feel it, the magic crackling. Now, if
we take her behaviour towards her brother today as an example, I believe it’s quite possible
for something similar to have happened on that Halloween night.”
“She was two.”
“Which makes it all too possible for a burst of uncontrollable magic towards her younger
brother.”
Cold. That’s what he felt at the words. He knew the rumours, Merlin everyone knew them, as
it was a constant topic of conspiracy talks between drinks among wizards and witches. ‘Who
do you think You-Know-Who struck first?’ they’d ask in whispers, ‘if she’s alive, how
powerful do you think she’s now?’ would usually follow. If Hermione had indeed made a
magical shield with unintentional magic, what did it mean for her? Who did Voldemort strike
first? Did he try to take Hermione out first?
“How's the mark, Severus?”
“Burning.” He replied. The news of the mark acting up hadn’t come as a surprise to
Dumbledore when Severus finally told the man. There had been rumours since the summer,
weird things happening that no one seemed to explain. Bertha Jorkins disappearance was one
of them. It was true, she wasn’t the brightest witch around, but she had gone to Albania. The
same place Quirrell had gone and returned with Voldemort on the back of his head.
Dumbledore believed that Voldemort had returned there after Quirrell’s death. A thought
came to mind. “Headmaster,” he said, throat dry. “Harry's name on the Goblet… Bertha had
worked for the Department of International Magic Co-operation and was working for the
Department of Magical Games and Sports when she disappeared in Albania. What if he
learned about the World Cup and the Tournament from her?”
Dumbledore hummed and ran his fingers through his beard in a contemplative way. “It's
possible, quite possible. But it leaves us thinking, it was someone in the castle that put his
name there. Who could be working with him?”
“Karkaroff—”
“No.” Dumbledore said at once. “He's terrified. I believe the only reason he accepted to
participate on the Tournament was because it would put him here for the entire year.”
Severus disagreed. Terrified people often grew desperate and willing to do anything to save
their asses. “Who, then?”
“That's a good question, indeed.”
“And Hermione?” He forced himself to ask. "If this is true, about how she created a second
protection to the boy, do you think whoever is behind it is going to come for her?” Cold,
detached, far from the reality of the turmoil inside his chest.
His hands were clammy and he could feel sweat dripping from his nape. He’d found years
ago that a perfect Occlumency wasn’t devoid of feelings all over, was learning exactly where
to give. Voldemort expected his followers to be afraid of him, so sweat and tremors were
expected, welcomed even, but his mind wouldn’t give anymore.
Dumbledore looked somber. “Undoubtedly.” He replied. “Hermione is in a very precarious

position now. The Malfoys interest made her vulnerable and if Voldemort or his followers
learn that she’s in the way to get to Harry, I’m afraid of what’s coming to her.”
He wanted to retch. He needed to, in fact. They’d come for her.
He needed to talk with Narcissa. They needed to know exactly how common knowledge it
was that Hermione had the Malfoy’s protection. He needed to know who was writing their
family members about his daughter and intercept some owls before they got to their
destinations.
“Is there a way for us to know if Hermione has the same blood protection as her brother?” He
asked.
Dumbledore shook his head. “If she did, it’s long gone.” The headmaster replied. “Not only
the protection is kept alive by Harry returning every year to where his mother’s sister lives,
but Hermione doesn’t have Lily’s blood anymore, that’s why she never showed in any of the
locator spells. Any protection Lily might have bestowed upon her daughter was gone when
her kidnapper took her.”
He needed to sit down. It was his fault. By taking and hiding her, they had made her
vulnerable and because of Hermione’s decision to spread the news of her true parenting to the
world, she had lightened a neon sign on top of her head.
Severus excused himself and with hurried steps, he went straight to his office. He’d have to
find a way to inform Remus, he couldn’t show up at the man’s house anymore, not if he
wanted to explain himself to Sirius Black.
Sirius Black. Severus huffed, he was an addition to the secret that they weren’t expecting, but
it wasn’t for him to deal with the man. Leave it to Lupin to bear that secret from Black.
He grabbed a fistful of Floo powder and entered his fireplace, with a sigh, he called, “Malfoy
Manor!”
Narcissa wasn’t at the drawing-room, which wasn’t surprising. It was a lovely Sunday and
the Manor had much better places than this room. He found Narcissa in her morning room,
she was painting. Nervous hands yet again.
“Morning Cissy,” he greeted.
“Severus, what a surprise.” She replied, her eyes not leaving the canvas and the tone was as
false as the smile she offered him.
“Lucius?” He asked.
“If you are looking for him, he’s tending to the peacocks, if you are asking if he’s the reason
why I’m painting, then the answer is yes.”
Severus helped himself onto the armchair on the left of the room, the one that had the best
sunlight coming from the windows. “Harry’s name has come out of the Goblet. He’s the
fourth champion.”
“What happened to the ‘tri' in Triwizard?”
“Someone put his name as a student from another school.”
“Of course they did.” She replied with a roll of her eyes. “Hermione?”
“Probably wrote her godfather right after the events, because he and your cousin were at the
castle by breakfast.”
He watched her hand slip on the canvas and a patch of blue paint crossed the tree she had
already finished. Narcissa glared at the painting. “They have grown close.” She commented.
He knew she was still hurt about having to let Hermione go. Severus surprised himself by
feeling sorry about what he had come here say.
“Cissy,” he called and his tone caught her attention, she finally looked at him. “Lily's
sacrifice gave them a blood ward that lives on her sister, that’s why Harry has to return every
year to his aunt and uncle, to renew the protection. Hermione doesn’t have it anymore. We
made her vulnerable when we removed Lily’s blood from her.”
Her black eyes became slits and her stare became a glare. “Tell me Severus, Hermione was
the one to write to her godfather. What did Harry Potter do after finding himself thrown in the
competition?”
“Nothing.”
She scoffed. “The boy might have a blood ward, but Hermione has a spine.” She said. “When
we took her away, we gave her something that Harry Potter has been starving for. She grew
up loved and cared for. Hermione is extremely well aware of her boundaries, being a
Slytherin perfected that. Hermione is not afraid of standing up for herself anymore and she
knows that she doesn’t need others for validation.” Narcissa washed her brushes and pushed
the colour palette away. “Tell me Severus, has the boy ever expressed dissatisfaction with the
cards that he has been dealt?” Severus shook his head, for all the he called the boy arrogant,
he knew that the boy was far from it. “See. He grew up starved for affection and desperate to
keep his head down so the people supposed to take care of him wouldn’t notice him. That’s
abuse Severus. He might have a sister and a godfather that love him now, but he still has to
learn what that means. His examples of love consist on both of his parents dying for him.”
Another scoff, “It’s good that he has that god damn blood ward, because I’m not entirely sure
he wouldn’t walk straight to his death if it meant he was being accommodating.”
“Well, he is a Gryffindor.”
“Bloody fools, the lot of them.” She said with disdain. Narcissa sighed, “but why are you
here, really?”
They’d come for her.
“Who exactly knows your connection to the girl?” He asked.
“No one important.” She replied and he gave her a look. “The Greengrasses and the
Parkinsons, Nneka Zabini, the Bulstrodes, the Goyles and the Crabbes.”
“Narcissa!”
“What? She came here every summer! She studies with their children! What am I supposed
to do? Obliviate them?” She asked and then coked her head to the side, the idea suddenly
seeming a good one.
Severus considered, “Can we?”
“No, that would be stupid. And quite unnecessary.”
“Unnecessary?"
“Yes. Kathleen has expressed her wish to move to Paris before the year ends and Primrose
has let me know that Pansy will return to King Cross on June to the news that her family has
moved abroad.”
“And? What does that mean for us?”
The look she sent him was completely dissatisfied, “I preferred when I didn’t have to spell
things out for you.” She sighed and got to her feet, she went to pour some tea for her and only
continued when she sat down on an armchair next to him. “They aren’t merely moving away
Severus, they are going to hide. Kieran hasn’t gotten the mark and he has managed to stay on
the outskirts of those affairs all these years, with the events of the World Cup, he knows this
time that won’t be an option.”
“And the others?”
“Nneka is in her fifth divorce at the moment and curiously she has taken interest in a
potioneer that lives in the deeps of the Brazilian Amazon studying the different plants and
flowers there. She’s completely invested in moving there to heal her heart. Or something like
that.” Narcissa said. Severus hummed, Nneka was definitely an interesting character and he
could say he enjoyed their conversations every time they met on Narcissa’s balls. She was a
very knowledgeable potion maker and herbologist. “The problem, as it stands, lies with
Wilfred Bulstrode, Thadeus and Nicodemus.” She continued, “I've learned from Florence that
Wilfred didn’t let his daughter out of his sight during the world cup because Hermione was
there and that he had instructed the girl to not interact with Hermione.”
“She has been talking with Hermione just fine.” He said.
“Well, kids never obey their parents now, do they?” She asked and sipped from her tea.
“From what I gathered from Florence, I think her husband might be problematic and of
course, there’s Thadeus and Nicodemus.”
“Which I am handling it.” They heard from behind them and both looked to see Lucius
standing in the doorway. If he had dirtied his robes or broken a sweat tending to his peacocks,
they would never know.
Narcissa made a low noise in her throat. “Excuse us if that doesn’t leave us overjoyed.” She
said. Severus couldn’t help the smirk on his face.
“Do share Lucius,” Severus said. “How are you handling?”
“Well, I’ve told them that I had my suspicions about her since the beginning, which is why I
invited her to my home in the first place,” he said as he strolled through the room and sat on
an armchair on Narcissa’s other side with a flourish. “They were very amused when I said
that if I were wrong at least we would have one less mudblood in the world.”
“Lovely.” Severus replied. Narcissa took another sip.
“I told them that I was making her trust us to make it easier to have her delivered to our Lord
when the time came, so you can imagine my displeasure when my plans got derailed by her
abrupt departure.”
“You told them you were planning to deliver my daughter on a silver platter?” He seethed.
Lucius smiled, “You know, she did say exactly the same thing to me, how lovely.” He said,
his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You should have heard all the gory suggestions they’d give
me—Well, maybe not, but they did get so terribly disappointed when I told them she had left,
one would think they were going to be the ones delivering her.” He said it all very calmly,
Severus wanted to fly at his neck. “Don't look at me like that Severus, you know how vacant-
minded they both are, it wasn’t hard to make them believe that I don’t nourish any feelings
about her.”
“I'm certain.”
“I am very fond of your daughter Severus, we always have lively conversations.”
Narcissa seemed to have had enough. “If they even suggest to their respective half-witted
sons that they can even think of looking her wrong, I’m going to hex them myself.”
“Careful, honey. You might give yourself away.”
Severus had had enough. He said his goodbyes and told Narcissa he’d keep her updated and
returned to the castle.
It was like their conversation had struck a match, for on Monday, the messages started.
The owls were flying above them, dropping parcels and letters to the students and he couldn’t
help but watch his daughter as she looked up. Four years and she was still basking in all the
magic. An owl dropped a purple envelope in front of Hermione and he watched from a
distance the way she flipped it looking for a name. He couldn’t know whether she found it or
not and as soon as she opened it, the letter exploded. Her friends around her all jumped and
gasped and from where he - now - stood, his daughter looked like she was bathed in blood.
A few people were murmuring, but the majority were laughing and pointing. Hermione’s
friends were quick and they helped her from the table.
“Excuse me,” he told Minerva next to him, “I will see what that was about.”
He passed behind Dumbledore and the headmaster called, “It has started, Severus.”
Severus didn’t slow down or allowed anyone to think that the headmaster’s words had
affected him, he went after where his godson, Parkinson, Greengrass, Zabini and Nott had
taken his daughter.
He arrived at the doors just as Potter did, which surprised Severus to the extent that he
allowed the boy to follow him without as much as a glare.
Hermione was dripping whatever had exploded from the letter and it made it easy for him to
find them.
“What happened?” He asked when he opened the door to the girl’s toilet, the same one where
the whole Troll spectacle had happened.
They all had wet flannels in their hands and were making constant trips from the sink to
where Hermione stood trembling. She wasn’t crying, but she wasn’t blinking also, which told
him she was in shock.
“It's not coming off.” Zabini said, his green eyes wide. “Cleaning spells are not working.”
It was only when he saw Potter wiping blood from his sister’s arm that he noticed that the
boy had moved. Severus tried a few of his own cleaning spells and they barely made a
difference.
Parkinson looked close to tears. Greengrass had blood all over her socks and knees because
she was trying to clean Hermione’s legs.
He couldn’t quite scrub his daughter like her friends were doing, so he set to cast a quick
diagnosis charm on her and to detect what animal that blood belonged to.
“Someone wrote ‘the Dark Lord will come for you’ on the paper.” Nott said and showed him
the paper.
“Give it to me, I will try to identify its origins.” He said. Her diagnosis showed that she was
indeed in shock, with shallow breathing and a rapid heartbeat that was slowly getting back to
normal. “She needs a bath.” He said and sighed, Dumbledore could send a complaint if he
well wished. “The password for the Prefect’s Bathroom is Mandarino Bubbles. It’s the fourth
door to the left of the statue of Boris the Bewildered on the fifth floor.” Five pairs of widened
eyes looked at her as if he had given them the keys to the castle. “Take her there. But first,
Parkinson, get a new uniform for her and—” he looked around and saw that everyone needed
a change, “get for the others too.” She nodded. “Nott, get some Calming Draughts from
Madam Pomfrey, tell her it’s urgent.”
Hermione would most likely start to cry as soon as she returned to her normal state and Pansy
didn’t look like she would be able to deal with it. He flicked his wand and produced a note to
give to the Matron. They both left.
“Come with me Draco,” he told his godson, “you can help me with this.” The boy nodded.
This had to have come from the castle. The Prophet with the news of the champions had
arrived with the exploding letter.
He left then, but not without noticing that Potter’s presence there hadn’t gotten a single
comment.
Chapter End Notes
I can't stop thinking about it now but... A free Sirius Black would never let any of the
shit Harry has to deal with go without a tantrum and it makes me very happy.
Next chapter comes on April 2nd. Please let me know what you think!
The title and the quote at the beginning belong to

they roll in like a storm on the waves
Chapter Notes
Hello!!
I'm sorry for missing the update last week! I'm doing my mid-terms and had a handful of
essays and presentations to finish and it ended up slipping my mind completely.
As you might have noticed, things are a bit "rushed" because Book 4 is huge and there's
a lot of things that pertain to Harry's narrative only and the focus here is on Hermione,
so to not drag this year and make it longer than it needs to be, I've decided to either skip
or mention them so I can focus on the things that relate to the plot.
I know you all want answers and I promise they ARE COMING, I just ask you all to
bear with me.
Please read the endnotes!!
The title and the quote at the beginning belong to Ceasefire by Only The Poets
here they roll in like a storm on the waves

shots fired and nobody's safe
we're in trouble
no, no, no, not yet
Chapter Twenty-Nine
That wasn’t the last of Hermione's surprises. In that same week, Harry and the other
champions did interviews with Rita Skeeter but he ended up being the only one featured in
most of the pages. Hermione knew he hadn’t said more than half of the things that were
written there, but for the rest of the school and to the public, Hermione was the one to blame.
“I swear Hermione, I would never say that about you!” He came running when the first piece
dropped. She waved him off. Hermione knew him well enough to know that he didn’t think
that she was responsible for their parents' death or how he felt cold towards her now.
But the hate-mail kept coming, Hermione had forgone opening any piece of correspondence
or parcel that was dropped in front of her, but it made things just barely easier.
“The problem is here,” Blaise told her when they were studying at the library two weeks into
November, “There is someone here that is not happy about the revelation.” He told her and
she sighed.
“You don’t tell me,” She started sarcastically, “it's not like I didn’t get a dead rat under my
duvet or someone took the time to mislabel all of my ingredients in the students' cabinet.”
“Well, the first one is easy, whoever got that rat in has to be a girl, it’s not like we have access
to the girls’ dormitory.”
“I know, I’m paying attention.” She gritted.
Draco had been quiet and she noticed that he was curled over something and trying very hard
to keep it hidden from the others. “What are you doing?” She asked and kicked his leg from
under the table. He jumped and in his scare, a button flew from his hands.
In one side she read POTTER STINKS, while the other showed Support Cedric Diggory!
“Give it back!” He said
“Are you kidding me?” She watched the spell on the button and fumed. It was such a nice
piece of work. Hermione felt her temper rising. If only he decided to apply his magical skills
to S.P.E.W!
“What?" He asked as if he had no idea what was wrong, "Diggory needs to know we are
supporting Hogwarts true champion.” He said. Blaise snickered.
“Did you know about this?” She asked Blaise.
The boy shrugged. “He had been hiding inside his four-poster at night, we thought he was
very desperate for—ouch!”
Hermione felt her cheeks reddening and was glad that Draco stopped the rest of Blaise’s
sentence. Even if it was via pulling Blaise’s hair.
“Hermy-own-niny,” Krum said as he passed and she smiled at him. He had taken to doing
that, every time they met on corridors or in the library he came up to say hi to her and make
another attempt to say her name. But he never lingered to talk. When they were in the library,
she’d notice him sitting a few tables down from where she was and steal glances in her
direction from time to time.
“He has a crush.” Blaise laughed and nudged her with his elbow, he wiggled his eyebrows
exaggeratedly.
“Shut up,” she replied, her cheeks burning.
Draco made a noise and yanked the button out of Hermione’s hands. “See you guys later.” He
said and quickly left.
Blaise watched Draco’s retreating back with a smirk. “It’s true!” He said, still smirking, “it's
driving him mad, you know?”
“Who?”
He tsked her, “C’mon, don’t give me that, you know whom I’m talking about.”
“He’s been weird since that first letter, have you noticed?” She asked.
Blaise nodded, “Snape warned him to be careful, that’s what Draco told me. Until we find out
who’s behind these taunts, everyone in our house is suspicious and—” he hesitated, “Draco
thinks the boys might try something.”
“Vince and Greg, you say?” She asked and Blaise nodded.
“Yeah. They have been particularly nasty in our dormitory, it’s one of the few times that Theo
reacts to something. Theo said if they don’t start using their heads for thinking they will end
up branded. Vince replied that it’d be an honour.”
Hermione gasped. But was quick to scoff. “They have no idea what they are talking about.”
“That's the thing, Granger. They do know. We have dismissed them as stupid, but that’s not
true. The things they say—It’s not ventriloquism, you know? They do believe in the shit they
say. Vince said he had fun setting tents on fire.”
“That's horrible!” She said, “That’s—" for a surprising turn of events, Hermione didn’t have
words to express herself. Was she naive for expecting people to change just because she was
one of them? Had she thought that making friends in her house as a muggle-born would make
them change their minds? No, that wasn’t naivety, that was just her being self-centred again.
She wasn’t all that important to be the catalyst of change in Slytherin and now, she wasn’t
even muggle-born anymore. A part of her knew her colleagues - probably Vince and Greg as
well - had tried explaining to themselves their tolerance towards her had to do with the fact
that she wasn’t a muggle-born after all.
Merlin, for them she was something worse.
And Merlin, she was going to murder both Collin Creevey and Rita Skeeter.
On the last Friday before the first task that would take place on Tuesday, the owl post
dropped the Daily Prophet and another gift for Hermione. She burned it the minute it touched
her plate.
She had to lean over to Pansy and read the journal with her, and both of them made horrified
noises when they saw the new piece on Harry and her.
Harry Potter’s love life is as tragic as his personal life. His close friend, Colin Creevey,
says that in all his years at Hogwarts, Harry was rarely seen out of the company of one
Hermione Granger - a witch that we now know is the Missing Sister Renné Potter, a
stunningly pretty girl, who like Harry, is one of the top students in the school.
But their relationship looks to be shaken, as witnesses tell us, love might have been
blooming between the siblings when the news of the familiar bond broke out. What to
do now? When the apparent love of your life turns out to be out of reach?
We hope Harry can find strength without Hermione, his now sister, to compete in the
first task in the upcoming Tuesday.
“Ew!” Hermione said when she finished reading.

“Stunningly pretty?” Pansy repeated, “That's a bit too much don’t you think?” She asked, “I'd
say more along the lines of ‘cleans up well when needed but particularly nothing out of the
ordinary"
Daphne chuckled, “I'm certain you will get your face complimented on the Daily Prophet
soon enough, Pansy.”
“Face complimented?” Hermione asked, “Did you miss everything else? She has made it
seem that I was in a forbidden romance with my own brother!” Hermione shrilled.
“It just shows that you truly are a Slytherin,” Theo said from his corner, he was slowly
starting to talk more, “with all the inbreeding,” even if it was to say some shit like that.
They all snickered and a sixth year threw a glare in Theo’s direction, no doubt result of
inbreeding.
Hermione decided to ignore that.
On Saturday, Hermione dragged Harry to Hogsmeade with her. He was already so nervous
about the task, and Skeeter’s article and Ron Weasley’s general stupidity wasn’t making
things better. The only thing that got to improve Harry’s mood a bit was the news that Sirius
would be coming to visit on the next day. For the eyes around her, Hermione had been
strolling around Hogsmeade by herself. Harry stayed under his cloak most of the time and
when they were at the Three Broomsticks they met with Moody and Hagrid. Hermione
wanted to leave immediately. Harry knew and understood why she didn’t like their new
Defence Against the Dark Arts professor and he agreed to keep things short.
“Should we keep walking then?” Hermione asked.
Harry nodded and just before they left, Hagrid told Harry to meet him by his hut around half-
past eleven, that he needed to show him something important and had to bring his cloak with
him. Hermione wasn’t so sure but it wasn’t like Harry ever listened to her.
They went back to the castle, Harry still under his cloak. “What time is Sirius coming
tomorrow?” She asked him.
“He said to meet him on the one-eyed witch tunnel around ten.”
“Why is he sneaking into the castle?” Hermione asked, she couldn’t help but be a little
amused by it.
Harry noticed the tone in her voice and laughed. “I don’t know, I think he enjoys being a dog
a bit too much,” Harry replied. “Do you want to come? He’d want to see you.”
“If you don’t mind! Skip a hex or two over eggs and toast would be nice.” She said and rolled
her eyes.
Harry sniggered. “Imagine if someone catches us in that dark tunnel? Our torrid affair
exposed!”
“Merlin shut up.” She laughed and they both went their separate ways upon arriving at the
entrance hall. “See you tomorrow.”
“See ya.”
“Where are you going?” Draco asked when she turned towards the opposite direction from
the Great Hall.
“To meet Sirius,” She told him.
“Is Professor Lupin coming with him?” Theo asked,
“I don’t know.” She replied, “possibly.”
“Tell him I said hi,” he said before entering the Great Hall.
Blaise huffed loudly behind her. She and Draco turned. “How bad is it that I’m jealous of a
former professor?” He asked them.
“Because he got a hi?” Draco asked with a terrible smile. “I'd say it’s pretty bad.” He
concluded, “C’mon, we can burn Hermione’s post together and you can make yet another
bitter comment to get a glare out of Theo.”
“Oh yes, the highlight of my day.” Blaise replied with an overly exaggerated sigh, “see you
later Granger,”
“Hey,” Draco called when she was about to leave, at this rate, she’d be late to meet with
them. “Meet me after lunch? I want to show you a place that I found.” He asked with a small
smile. Hermione felt it in her lower belly.
“Yeah.” She replied and offered him a shy smile, which he returned.
She didn’t care that she was smiling to herself the entire way to the third floor. It had taken
her long enough to realise that she was in love with him and now that she knew, it was
malignant. Hermione felt it like an infection, spreading through her body and bleeding on
every interaction with the boy.
He was still a bit weird towards her, not distant because Hermione thought neither of them
was capable of that anymore, but whatever Snape had said to him had stuck and he was
paying attention to everyone that even looked at her that wasn’t in their immediate circle.
Not surprisingly, she arrived before Harry and squeezed through the passage when she was
certain that there was no one around. Hermione jumped when she saw the gleaming yellow
eyes in the dark. “Jesus, you scared me.”
Sirius transformed and Smiled at her apologetically. “Is Harry coming?”
“I suppose so, he said I could join, you don’t mind, do you?”

“No, of course not. I was expecting you.”
She smiled. “Remus didn’t come?”
Sirius winced and Hermione knew that was the wrong question. “It's not a good day today.” It
was his reply.
Hermione didn’t need to worry about saying anything else, because they heard Harry coming.
Sirius ruffled Harry’s already chaos of hair and the boy grinned. “So, let’s start our
brainstorming meeting.” He said with a grin, Hermione thought that despite his comment of
not being a good day, he looked younger. Freer too.
They made themselves comfortable on the floor and illuminated the passage with the light
from their wands.
“I know what the first task is going to be,” Harry said and Hermione widened her eyes in
surprise, “that’s what Hagrid had to tell me.” He added to her.
“You aren’t supposed to know,” she said, “but it’s good that you do, You need any advantage
you can get.”
“Well, not so much. Hagrid was with Madam Maxime, so I’m certain that Fleur Delacour
already knows and I passed Karkaroff on my way back, so he knows as well. I’m guessing
only Cedric is going blind on Tuesday. I don’t think it’s fair.”
“Harry, fairness is for Hufflepuffs. Cedric knows two years’ worth of spells more than you.
You going to the first task knowing what you will be dealing with while he doesn’t is the best
card you can have now.”
“And that’s very Slytherin of you.” He said.
“Well, there is where I was sorted, wasn’t I?”
“Okay,” Sirius interrupted them, “Hermione has a point. But you can tell Cedric and get
yourself an ally. Hogwarts bond. You have to think about it.” He said. “But Karkaroff. That’s
someone important to be paying attention to.”
“Why?” Harry asked.
“The last time we met, Moony and I did some digging after we left.” Sirius said, “but we
couldn’t tell you in Hogsmeade because we never know who’s listening and with the news all
over us, there is always someone listening. But Karkaroff, he was a Death Eater, did you
know that?” They both shook their heads, but Hermione wasn’t surprised, she knew that half
of the guests for Narcissa’s Christmas Gala were in some way involved. “He was caught, he
was in Azkaban with me, but he got released. I’d bet everything that’s why Dumbledore
wanted an Auror at Hogwarts this year — to keep an eye on him. Moody caught Karkaroff.
He was the one to put him into Azkaban in the first place.”
“Karkaroff got released?” Harry asked slowly, “Why did they release him?”
“He did a deal with the Ministry of Magic,” Sirius replied bitterly. Hermione was certain no
one had come to him offering any deals. “He said he’d seen the error of his ways, and then he
gave them names… He put a load of other people into Azkaban in his place… He’s not very
popular in there, that I can tell you. And since he got out, from what I can tell, he’s been
teaching the Dark Arts to every student who passes through that school of his. So watch out
for the Durmstrang champion as well.”
“Hermione is chummy with him,” Harry said.
“I'm not chummy with him!” She retorted, glad that the low light couldn’t show them the
redness on her cheeks.
Sirius grinned, “moving on already?”
“Please, don’t,” she said and hid her cheeks behind her hands. Harry looked between them
with a question in his eyes.
“Do you know anything about Karkaroff, Hermione? Something my dear cousin might have
said?”
Hermione shook her head. “She doesn’t like him very much, that’s the only thing I’m certain.
She always left when he was around, not that he was much. He was at the last year Yule Ball
Aunt Cissy threw, but that was probably because Lucius was trying to get a deal with the
firebolt and knew he could use Karkaroff to get Krum to buy the broom and therefore the rest
of the Bulgarian squad.”
Sirius nodded and she was pleased to see that even Harry clearly thought there was more, that
Lucius was chummy with Karkaroff for other reasons, Sirius seemed to think that was solid
reasoning.
“We went through the last few months’ editions of the Daily Prophet, trying to see if anything
odd stood out and we found two things,” Sirius said. “Moody reported attack before the start
of the term and yes Harry, I know Rita wrote that was another false alarm,” he added hastily,
seeing that Harry was about to speak, Hermione bit her tongue, “But I don’t think so,
somehow. I think someone tried to stop him from getting to Hogwarts. I think someone knew
their job would be a lot more difficult with him around.”
“And because he has had false alarms all too often no one was going to look into it too
closely,” Hermione concluded.
“Exactly, but I know Mad-Eye personally.” He said and Hermione saw the twist around his
mouth as he said it. He didn’t seem to be much of a fan either. “He might not be an Auror
anymore, but he’s still the best one the Ministry ever had.”
“And he can see through everything with that eye of his, even through Harry’s cloak,”
Hermione added.
“The cloak as well?” Sirius asked curiously and Hermione nodded. Sirius sighed, “Anyway,
I’ve been hearing some very strange things,” he continued slowly. “The Death Eaters seem to
be a bit more active than usual lately. We have stirred things last June. Hermione’s revelation
and Peter disappearing again put them on edge. They showed themselves at the Quidditch
World Cup, didn’t they? Someone set off the Dark Mark—”
“Er—about that,” Hermione said and bit down on her lip, hesitating.
“Are you ready to share why you really left the Manor, Hermione?” Sirius asked. His voice
was soft like he knew exactly how she felt. And maybe he did, maybe he knew best what it
was like to betray someone you loved.
“The group at the World Cup wasn’t behind the Dark Mark.” She said. It did feel like
betrayal. Like she had just torn her heart open and given away something precious. She had
no desire to keep Lucius’ secrets, she fully knew what he was and what he had done, just as
she knew what he could do. Hermione’s reticence had nothing to do with Lucius, but with the
two other people she could hurt if she said too much.
Sirius didn’t ask for further information. He didn’t ask how she knew or if she knew anything
else. He accepted the bit of information she was willing to give, and for that she was grateful.
“If there’s someone else… Hm, I wonder then…” Sirius said, his left hand massaging his
chin.
“What?”
“That means that the Death Eaters have heard the same rumours that I have.” He said.
“Whatever is going on with their master, they are in the dark. Which means that there is
someone else with him, someone like—”
“Pettigrew and the man I saw in my dream,” Harry concluded.
“Possibly. I’ve dismissed Peter for far too long, but I know better now.” Sirius said and it
reminded her of what Blaise had said about Vince and Greg. “Peter's a rat, he has lived
thirteen years as one and I’m certain he is infinitely better at communicating with others of
his species than I ever got as a dog. I think he went straight to his Lord after running away.
Did you hear about that Ministry of Magic witch who’s gone missing?” Sirius asked them.
“Bertha Jorkins?” Harry asked.
“Exactly… She disappeared in Albania, and that’s definitely where Voldemort was rumoured
to be last. She would have known the Triwizard Tournament was coming up, wouldn’t she?”
“Yeah, but… it’s not very likely she’d have walked straight into Voldemort, is it?” Asked
Harry.
“Not straight into Voldemort, but maybe straight into Peter. Listen, I know Bertha Jorkins,”
said Sirius grimly. “She was at Hogwarts when I was, a few years above your dad and me.
And she was an idiot. Very nosy, but no brains, none at all. It’s not a good combination,
Harry. I’d say she’d be very easy to lure into a trap.
“So—” Harry stopped, "So Voldemort could have found out about the tournament?” Harry
asked. “Is that what you mean? You think Karkaroff might be here on his orders?”
“I don’t think it’s Karkaroff,” Hermione said. “He is too busy polishing the floor in front of
Krum. You said he made a deal with the Ministry and traded names of many Death Eaters,
but he’s not scared because he thinks he has the protection that Krum’s celebrity status has to
offer.” She concluded. “And anyway, how could he have broken into Mad-Eye’s house
during the summer if he was with Krum in the world cup?”
“I don’t know,” Sirius said slowly, “But you do have a point." He agreed, “Harry, about the
third man in your dream, what do you remember of him?”
“What? You don’t think that’s true, do you?”
“I don’t think we are in a place where we can throw away information because we don’t
understand the source. Prophetic dreams are a thing in the magical world. Maybe you—”
“Please don’t say he has the Gift,” Hermione muttered.
Sirius only smirked, “we don’t know Hermione. But I do agree with you. Karkaroff doesn’t
strike me as the type who’d go back to Voldemort unless he knew Voldemort was powerful
enough to protect him. Which leads us to believe that there is a third man. Hence, the third
man in Harry’s dream.”
“And Pettigrew?” Hermione asked. “Couldn't have been him?”
“Peter does have the skills to escape undetected, could have been him trying to attack Mad-
Eye? Yes. But could have been him that put Harry’s name on the goblet? No. He wouldn’t
dare come back to the castle knowing that you’d have a way to see him. And besides, he
doesn’t have the skills to outsmart the goblet.”
“Hence, a third person,” Hermione concluded.
Sirius nodded. “One thing is for certain, whoever put your name in that goblet did it for a
reason, and I can’t help thinking the tournament would be a very good way to attack you and
make it look like an accident,” Sirius said. “And Hermione’s getting her fair share of hate
mail to get people’s attention away from you and to her.”
“Am I getting bullied as a distraction?” She asked.
“The first one I think was them." Sirius said, "That was far too advanced for a student.
Narcissa told me you had trouble removing all the blood.”
“You talked with Narcissa?” Hermione asked surprised. No doubt a screaming match had
ensued.
“Snivellus told her and she told Remus who told me.” He explained.
Harry grinned at their Potion professor’s nickname. Hermione just hoped Harry wouldn’t be
stupid enough to repeat it.
“And everything that has happened since?” She asked.
“People feel empowered. Whoever is displeased with your so-called return can say something
about it. There are so many Death Eaters’ kids right now, I bet they are all receiving orders
from their restless parents”
“Looks like a really good plan from where I’m standing,” Harry said, grinning bleakly.
“They’ll just have to stand back and let the dragons do their stuff.”
“Right — these dragons,” said Sirius, “There’s a way, Harry. Don’t be tempted to try a
Stunning Spell — dragons are strong and too powerfully magical to be knocked out by a
single Stunner, you need about half a dozen wizards at a time to overcome a dragon—”
“Yeah, I know, I just saw,” he said.
“But you can do it alone,” said Sirius. “There is a way, and a simple spell’s all you need. A
dragon’s weakest point is its eyes, so hit it there and you are done.”
“Well, I don’t know any—“
“A Conjunctivitis Charm will do. They are not so hard and you can easily sneak around the
dragon once it’s blind.”
Harry looked sceptical, Hermione squeezed his arm, “I will help you, we can learn it
together.”
“More likely you will learn it. Honestly, they should have put your name on the goblet!”
“Harry!” Hermione slapped him, “Well, I wouldn’t be too easy to kill!”
Sirius snorted, “All right, that’s enough. No one’s getting killed. I will be on the stands
watching the task, Remus will come too.” He told them, “We can save your ass if need be.”
He joked and Harry looked quite glad at that, “Don't worry, you will be fine.” Sirius said and
squeezed Harry’s shoulder in support.
“Tell Remus that Theo said hi,” Hermione said and Sirius nodded.
They got to their feet, as much as they could anyway, and Hermione saw Sirius shaking his
head and letting out a long sigh, “You know, the only thing he said to me was to ask you
about the boy.” He replied.
“He's not good.” Hermione said and noticed Harry’s peaked interest, “Maybe Remus could
write? You know, about the stuff you heard him say at Hogsmeade that day? I don’t think
Theo has—”
“Of course,” Sirius replied at once. “Will do.”
Harry was still curious and Hermione shook her head, “It's Theo’s stuff, sorry but I won’t say
anything about it.”
Harry just shrugged and they both said their goodbyes to Sirius and watched him turn back
into a dog before disappearing in the darkness of the tunnel.
She wasn’t the one to face down the dragons, but she was a nervous wreck on the morning of
the task. Hermione of course hadn’t told any of her friends about what would be the first task,
so her friends mostly thought she was just worrying without basis.
Classes stopped at midday and they all went back to their rooms to drop their bags and
change out of their uniforms. She didn’t see Harry as she made her way down to where the
first task would take place. But she also didn’t see any of the other champions.
Guests spectators were already seated and Hermione quickly spotted her godfather and Sirius,
they seemed to have spotted her as well, because they waved and she made her way to where
they were. The girls stayed behind, they wanted to seat near the boys from the other schools,
so Hermione watched amusedly as her friends blushed and Pansy pretended to trip in one of
the boys just to have him help her to her feet.
Theo and Blaise greeted their former professor and Hermione noticed how Remus had taken
a long look at Theo and immediately started a conversation. Sirius eyed Draco and the boy
did the same.
“Hello little cousin,” Sirius greeted, “Nice to meet you.” Hermione wasn’t very sure it was
nice.
Draco wasn’t naive and she saw a twitch on the left side of his mouth, “It's nice to finally put
a face to a burnt name.” Draco replied.
Sirius didn’t seem offended, instead, he laughed, throwing his head back and all. She noticed
he was growing his hair again, she hadn’t noticed it two days ago, when they all talked in a
dimmed lit tunnel. “Yeah, you are all right.” He said and for some reason, it seemed to please
Draco.
Hermione was nervous and she wasn’t the only one. Sirius and Remus beside her were quiet
and fidgety, she didn’t know if they had worked out whatever had happened before Sirius
came to see them, but at least they were there. They had the entire row almost to themselves,
with Theo having the corner seat farthest from the aisle, then Remus, Sirius, Hermione,
Draco and Blaise closing in their group, most probably he chose to be as far as way from
Theo as possible. Hermione was desperate to get the two talking again.
She and Harry had learned and practised the spell Sirius suggested and of course, she had
done it faster than him, but it didn’t take Harry long to catch up, but Hermione was nervous
anyway because he had decided to switch tactics on Sunday and they spent the entire day
working on summoning charms so Harry could summon his broom from his bedroom all the
way in the Gryffindor Tower. At least if it didn’t work, he’d have the Conjunctivitis Charm to
fall back on.
The noise was unbearable, most of the Hogwarts students were supporting Cedric, with a few
of them supporting Krum. The only ones that seemed to be supporting Harry besides her,
Sirius and Remus, was Collin and Dennis Creevey. Ludo Bagman appeared, he looked a little
bit unkempt.
“Welcome! Welcome!” He greeted the cheering crowd. “Today we have the opening task for
the Triwizard Tournament!” More cheers from the crowd, “I know, I know, you are all
excited to see what our favourite champions will have to face soon! I can safely say that I
wouldn’t be so eager to be inside the arena, no, no, too scaly in my opinion.”
Draco turned to her with wide eyes, she hadn’t told any of them what the first task was going
to be, lest one of them decided to run their mouths. Well, she supposed it would have been a
good idea if it meant Harry got declassified from the Tournament.
“Is it—” He started, but the sentence died down as a group of wizards left one of the
entrances of the arena, they all had their wands ready and dragon leather uniforms.
“Fuck me,” Blaise muttered. Most people seemed to have caught up, she even heard the
Weasleys shouting out to Charlie Weasley, whom she had met in her first year.
“Your faces! Be careful, it might be worth more gold than the eggs.” Bagman said and one of
the wizards revealed a golden egg and placed it in the middle of the arena amongst a clutch of
normal-looking dragon eggs. It seemed that, now that they all knew it was dragons, the
creatures were making noises wherever they were being kept to make themselves known.
There were four gates below them, Hermione only could see the two on the other side from
where she was sitting. She gasped when one of the metallic doors raised and the entire arena
shook. Slowly, the wizards got the dragon out.
“Fuck me, fuck me” Blaise repeated, “It's a Swedish Short-Snout!” He said and was leaning
closer to the edge of his seat to a better view of the animal.
It seemed a bit confused, but it quickly saw its target and started going for it, the wizards all
carefully holding the creature back and making sure that it stayed with its mouth closed.
“I don’t think we are that far apart from it, honestly.” She said.
“They have wards around the stands,” Remus replied from where he was, “I can feel them.”
The dragon didn’t seem to care much about the hundreds of people around it, because once it
got close to the eggs, it sat down and started looking menacingly around. Daring anyone to
get close.
“They are going to have to catch the egg,” Draco stated the obvious.
“The first task is simple,” he announced, for which Hermione scoffed. “Each champion is
going to face a dragon and the goal is to retrieve the golden egg it’s holding. The champions
are going to be evaluated by their magic skills and how they pass through the dragon and
how long they take.” He announced, his voice getting louder at each word, as the crowd’s
volume also grew.
Once all the wizards had left the arena and were smartly positioned around it in case it was
necessary to intervene, Ludo Bagman returned to the mic. “And now, I know you are all just
as eager as I am, let’s begin!” The crowd screamed. “Ladies and gentleman, the first
champion to be facing the dragon is Hogwarts Champion, Cedric Diggory!”
It was the first time Hermione saw Hufflepuff being the loudest among the four houses. And
with most of their school behind Cedric, the roar when he entered the enclosure was
deafening.
She knew Harry had told the Hufflepuff about the dragons, but Hermione knew that no
amount of preparation would be enough to face a dragon without looking a bit green.
The entire crowd was silent, waiting, holding their breaths. The dragon had yet to notice
Cedric and the boy looked around, probably thinking about what to do.
Cedric pointed his wand to a large rock that was in the line of sight of the dragon and
transfigured it to a dog. Sirius hooted in excitement, probably excited about finding
representation in the event. It was a fantastic piece of transfiguration, Hermione had to give it
to him. She knew he was good because he’d helped her with the Halloween invitations last
year. She snuck a glance at Professor McGonagall at the teacher’s area and saw that their
Transfiguration Professor was looking quite proudly at her student.
He was controlling the dog, making it move this way and that, getting the attention of the
dragon. Everyone held their collective breaths as the dragon moved. The Labrador jumped
playfully, provoking and the dragon huffed, it opened its mouth and a ball of fire came out of
it, Cedric made the dog run right in time to avoid being singed.
“Oooh, narrow miss there, very narrow” Bagman said, narrating the whole thing with a bit
too much excitement.
But it got the dragon’s attention and the creature went after the dog. Cedric began to move
between the rocks, getting very close to the dragon where the animal couldn’t see him. “He’s
taking risks, this one!” Bagman shouted into the mic.
Finally, Cedric got to where the egg was.
He was almost near the exit when the dragon looked behind itself and saw its egg gone, it
went after Cedric and the Hufflepuff ran, the crowd screamed when fire consumed the place
where Cedric had been. “Clever move — pity it didn’t work!”
A green light shot through the arena. The crowd screamed. Cedric had gotten through the
first task. The wizards responsible for the dragon moved at once. They got a hold of the
dragon and struggled to put it back in its cage, the animal seemed furious to have lost its egg
and was firing around, burning many rocks in its wake.
“Well, that was something,” Blaise said.

Hermione couldn’t agree more.
“He did well,” Sirius said, “but he got burnt at the end and he took a bit too long, I think.” He
commented. “If everyone passes, time and general state of the champion are going to be
decisive to the final points.”
“Very good indeed!” Bagman was shouting. “And now the marks from the judges!”
Most of the judges gave an eight to Cedric, while Crouch and Karkaroff gave seven points.
“Thirty-eight.” Draco said, “not bad.”
“But quite biased having the heads of the schools in the panel,” Theo commented from his
seat, he even leaned over to let his voice carry to the ones farther away from him. Blaise
looked straight ahead. “Of course, Karkaroff and Madame Maxime won’t give him high
scores and risk putting their students behind.”
“But it’s good that it’s only ten points,” Draco added and smirked. “Otherwise we’d have
Dumbledore giving Potter a hundred and fifty points for— what was it?”
“Pure nerve and outstanding courage.” She, Blaise and Theo replied together. Reminiscent
anger still in their voices. Sirius chuckled.
“I once lost a hundred and fifty for pure—“ he stopped and looked at Remus, “what was that
McGonagall said?”
“Pure imbecility and outstanding cowardice” Remus replied and they both shared a laugh and
matching smirks.
The boys seemed to find it funny and all laughed. Hermione wondered what the hell he had
done to lose that many points. Hermione would have killed any of her friends for it.
“You mum almost killed me for it,” Sirius said, catching her expression.
“I think my mum would have killed you for it,” Draco added.
“Oh, but she tried,” Sirius said seriously. “Well, in her head she saw it as a reward, I’m sure.
She arranged a formal dinner with my entire family plus Bella.” He told Draco, who probably
had heard enough stories because his eyes grew saucers. “She thought they would see it as
me being worthy of a second chance by putting Slytherin in the first place while making
Gryffindor sit in fourth place. That dinner was a worse punishment than what McGonagall
and Dumbledore gave me.”
They didn’t say anything else, because the wizards down in the enclosure were already
setting the new eggs and putting the golden on in the middle.
“Aw.” Remus said when the second dragon was brought, “I love them.” he said and
Hermione looked at him, perplexed.
“They are my favourite.” Theo agreed. Hermione and Draco looked at one another and
shared a knowing smile when Blaise predictably muttered something along the lines of ‘his
favourite my ass’.
“Did you know that my father was Welsh, Theo?” Remus asked and Hermione couldn’t
contain her laughter. Theo was showing way too much interest in Remus’ father's
background. Sirius raised a dubious eyebrow to the giggling pair and Hermione motioned to
him to get closer so she’d whisper on his ear.
“Theo and Blaise are not speaking but they both fancy one another.” She said and Sirius
joined them in the giggling. Blaise didn’t find it funny.
“Miss Delacour, if you please!” Bagman said and the crowd cheered. The Beauxbatons
students all released some sort of light blue fireworks and they all cheered.
Hermione was impressed. The girl was clearly shaking, but her face was set and she didn’t
waste a second before going straight at her dragon. She twirled her wand in a very difficult
and complex pattern and the dragon swayed. She kept doing it and it seemed to make the
dragon more and more drowsy at each step she took in the direction of the egg.
The dragon fell asleep and the crowd seemed to grow mute in apprehension. She reached for
the egg. “Oh… Nearly! Careful now—“ The dragon snorted and a great jet of green flame
came out of its snot. Fleur jumped, her skirt was on fire, but she had the eggs on her hands.
With a quick work of a water spell, she put it out. But it was enough to wake the dragon again
and she quickly retreated.
For a second, witch and dragon seemed to stare at one another and then they both moved at
once, the dragon towards her and Fleur towards the exit. "Good lord, I thought she’d had it
then!”
They played hide and seek, Fleur casting spells from left and right in a quick succession that
impressed Hermione. The girl was very skilled and agile. She was more than a pretty face
and the straight boy next to her seemed just as impressed as she was.
“Do close your mouth.” She snapped irritably.
Draco did just that and looked sheepishly at her. “She's part Veela, you know.”
“I'm sure she is.”
Fleur got to the exit and the same green light appeared. The crowd cheered.
“Very good,” Bagman said, “now let’s see the scores…”
Bagman gave eight points, while Madam Maxime showed ten, Karkaroff and Dumbledore
gave seven points and Crouch gave six. The Beauxbatons students all booed and yelled at
him.
“Thirty-seven.” She said.

“Not as good as Cedric, but still not bad.” Sirius said, “I think she deserved more because she
actually dealt with the Dragon.”
“There was no reason for the six,” Remus agreed.
The same process repeated and the third dragon, a Chinese Fireball according to Dragon
Connoisseur Blaise Zabini.
“Since when do you know that much about dragons?” Draco asked, he was also surprised by
their friend’s knowledge.
“Since I’ve been dying to ride yours,” Blaise replied without missing a beat.
“Oh, for fucks’ sake shut up,” Draco said and Hermione laughed at the tinted red on the boy’s
ears. Sirius was beside himself and reached over both her and Draco to high-five Blaise.
“Moony, who would’ve thought!” He said and nudged Remus with his elbow. Hermione
smiled, at least she knew they were fine. “These Slytherins have game!”
“You just turned thirty-five, please act like one.” It was Remus’ reply.
“Never.” Sirius retorted.
"And here comes Mr Krum!” Bagman said and the entire arena shook with the noise. Krum
was definitely the one with the most fans after Cedric. Besides, now that Cedric had finished
the task successfully, the Hufflepuffs all joined in cheering for the Quidditch star.
The Chinese fireball, differently from the other dragons, saw Krum the minute the boy
entered the enclosure. Krum ran in the direction of the animal with his wand raised and
pointed at the dragon’s face. A yellow jet came out of it and the dragon emitted a horrible,
roaring shriek. “Very daring!” Bagman yelled.
“It’s the spell I told Harry to use,” Sirius muttered to Hermione. “Apparently it hurts.”
The dragon trashed and shrieked, Krum got near the eggs and the problem now was trying to
avoid being stepped on by the dragon as it swerved its tail and flapped its wings in agony.
Krum grabbed the egg and “That’s some nerve he’s showing — and — yes, he’s gotten the
egg!” In the next second the creature stepped on a few eggs, crashing them. They all gasped.
“Shit.” Remus said, “he's going to lose points for that. They weren’t supposed to destroy the
eggs.”
And right on cue, the green light told them Krum had been successful and the wizards set to
action. They had a bit more of a problem, as the dragon was now blind and furious. They had
to stun it to get it inside its cage again.
Karkaroff gave ten, to no one’s surprise. Bagman gave nine points. While Madam Maxime
and Dumbledore gave eight and seven, respectively. Crouch gave only six points.
“He sure is holding back his points,” Draco commented.

“But he’s in the first place,” Blaise added.
Hermione couldn’t find her voice. With the three other champions done, it meant that Harry
was next. Sirius and Remus had also gotten quiet and when the adults next to her and the
three boys all cursed at the sight of the dragon, Hermione felt her stomach twisting in knots.
“What is it?” She asked.
“It's the Hungarian Horntail.” Draco replied and grabbed her hand before adding, “he's the
nastiest among the others we saw until now.”
Hermione gulped and watched, her heart in her throat as Harry made his way inside the
enclosure. Merlin, he was much smaller than the others. Sirius grabbed her other hand and a
quick glance told her that Remus had Sirius’ other hand in his.
The dragon was looking at Harry, its wings half-furled and those evil-looking yellow eyes
upon her brother. Draco was right, it was the nastier, it looked the worst of them and it was
way bigger as well. The dragon was thrashing its spiked tail, leaving yard-long gouge marks
in the hard ground in a clear sign of ‘don't come near me’.
She saw him raising his wand and shouting, from where they were and amidst the noise in the
crowd, she couldn’t hear him, but she suspected it was the Summoning Charm. She closed
her eyes and prayed that the Firebolt would come.
“What is he doing?” Draco asked.
“He Summoned the Firebolt.” She replied and just then they all heard it, that wonder of a
broom speeding through the air behind them. It came through the edge of the woods and
stopped dead in midair beside him. The crowd went euphoric.
“Go, Harry,” Sirius said, prayer in his voice.
Harry swung his leg over the broom and kicked off from the ground. He soared upward and
everyone as well as the dragon was looking at him circling the dragon.
He dived. Hermione swallowed her scream. Harry swerved right in time to avoid the jet of
fire the dragon released. “Great Scott, he can fly!” Bagman yelled among the crowd. “Are
you watching this, Mr Krum?”
Harry soared higher in a circle, the dragon following Harry’s every movement. Harry
plummeted just as the Horntail opened its mouth, but this time he was less lucky. The fire
passed through him, but the dragon’s tail caught his shoulder and Hermione closed her eyes
and gripped both hands. Draco was used by now to her death grip and Sirius didn’t seem to
mind, because he held her hand just as tight.
She wasn’t going to look. She couldn’t. The crowd was screaming and groaning and
Hermione could hear the broom whooshing around.
“He's trying to make the dragon fly,” Draco said, keeping her updated as she had her eyes
closed. “But the dragon is not stupid and it’s not budging.”
A few more groans and gasps. Hermione felt her cheeks warm and knew the dragon had
released another burst of flames. “He's doing great, Granger,” Draco said in a surprising tone
of approval. Hermione opened her eyes to check.
The dragon reared and spread her great, black, leathery wings, Hermione noted that it was as
wide as those of a small aeroplane. Harry dived. They all gasped as Harry got as close to the
ground as possible, in an absurd speed, he passed through the legs of the dragon, his hands
off the handle and grabbed the egg as it was another Snitch.
Everyone screamed, Hermione felt herself going hoarse. Sirius and Remus were jumping and
yelling. There were clapping all around them.
“Look at that!” Bagman yelled. “Will you look at that! Our youngest champion is the
quickest to get his egg! Well, this is going to shorten the odds on Mr Potter!”
“You tell them, Harry!” Sirius was screaming, “You show them!!”
Harry was flying to the exit and the wizards were trying to subdue the dragon. “I'm going
after him.” She said.
“Tell him we are so very proud of him,” Sirius said and Remus nodded beside him.
“I will.” She smiled and ran down the stands to go to Madam Pomfrey’s tent, where she was
sure all the champions ended up after the task.
Chapter End Notes
Unfortunately, with my master's and my job, book 4 is taking me longer to write. I don't
have many chapters done ahead of this one and in order to keep the chapters coming I
have decided to change the posting schedule. Instead of a new chapter every Friday,
from now on (or until I get some writing done and put a few chapters between writing
and posting) I will be posting every other Friday. I'm sorry and I hope to pick up the
pace once I have my spring break and my exams are done.
Please let me know in the comments what you think.

You can find me on twitter it's @moonyhoax if you have any questions or want to
witness the chaos of me trying to write.
when everything gets in the way
Chapter Notes
Hello! thank you for the kind comments and for waiting for the new chapter!
I really appreciate it. However, I'm not entirely sure that you will like this one and for
that, I apologize!!!
Holdin' me back
Gravity's holdin' me back
I want you to hold out the palm of your hand
Chapter Thirty
The school changed after that. Harry got fans and many of them at that. Weasley removed his
head from his ass and the pair was now back to speaking terms. She was glad to see that at
least her conversation with Harry about Ron had seemed to take effect because her brother
was being much less lenient with the boy’s comments.
Another thing that changed was how suddenly she was seeing that Rita Skeeter woman
everywhere. The witch seemed to pop-out out of nowhere, always with a quill in hand.
Hermione really wanted to know how she was getting around in the castle since she wasn’t
supposed to be on the grounds at all. She interviewed Hagrid and Hermione dreaded what
she would write.
Weirdly, another change from the First Task was that now Viktor Krum had started to
approach her in the library, instead of just waving. They never talked there because of his
fans and her friends, but she had taken to show him around the castle and her favourite study
spots and she soon found that he was a very good listener.
With Weasley back to wishing for Harry’s attention, Hermione used the opportunity to work
more on S.P.E.W and decide her next steps. Hermione asked her friends how to get inside the
kitchens because apparently, she was the only one that hadn’t gone down for a midnight
snack there. Hermione was more than surprised when she found that both Winky and Dobby
were working there and rushed to tell Harry, he’d be happy to see that Dobby was happy as a
free, employed and remunerated elf! Winky—well, Winky would get better soon enough.
Draco was with Theo in the library when she found him later, and she told him about seeing
his family's former elf employed and how he still tried to punish himself for speaking up
against his former masters.
“Why are you mad at me?” Draco asked, catching the accusation in her tone. “I never did a
thing to him!”
“Yes, but—” Draco didn’t let her finish.
“Hermione, I support your organisation, I have three badges on my bag and you are using my
owl to send your little threats to the ministry, I do agree with you that the whole situation is
wrong, bu—”
“Don’t ‘but’ me Draco, you will just erase everything you’ve just said.” She cut him off.
“This is all part of their enslavement. Dobby said that they have to keep their master's secrets
and remain silent, upholding the family honour and never speaking ill of them! How barbaric
this is!”
Theo snorted, “If poor Tilly ever gets free she could get an Order of Merlin First Class
because of the things she knows.”
“And she should.” Hermione retorted.
Theo smirked. “I never said otherwise.” He leaned over the table, getting in her space and
lowering his voice, “do share how your brother got Dobby freed and I shall do the same.” He
winked at her and she smiled pleasantly. Hermione turned a raised eyebrow at Draco.
“Yes, of course, I will free all of my house elves and then proceed to hide for the foreseeable
future because my father and mother will hunt me to my dying days.”
“Don't be dramatic.” She replied and then turned around when she felt eyes on her. With the
number of glares she was getting lately, Hermione had developed a sort of sixth sense to that.
This time was just Krum, sitting a few tables away from them. She smiled and waved at him.
His cheeks turned a bit red and he waved back.
“Don't encourage him” Draco muttered and threw a crumpled piece of parchment at her.
Hermione turned back to scowl at him. “Don't you think it’s weird how he keeps loitering
around?” And that was exactly why she hadn’t told Draco about her new friendship with
Krum.
“Loitering?” Hermione repeated, “He comes here to hide from his hoard of fans that can’t
seem to see that he’s a person who’s entitled to his private time, not someone to be available
all the time.”
“Well, he should have his privacy in his boat,” Draco replied.
“Don't try to change topics, Draco Malfoy. We were talking about—”
“You were talking about.”
“How Dobby, two years after being freed, still felt the need to punish himself after calling
your family bad Dark wizards.”
“Well, he should have.” He muttered and Hermione swatted at him, the blond hair falling to
his forehead. He glared at her and Hermione felt her resolve falter upon the new look. She did
find him much better looking since he stopped with the copious amount of hair gel, but she
wasn’t about to say that. Or how the fringe looked good.
Theo coughed. Hermione blinked.
“Right.” She said. “Moving on. Dobby said he’s getting paid a galleon a week—”
“That’s certainly more than the Weasleys get paid a month.” Draco joked and she swatted
him again.
“Can you stop being an enormous ass for five bloody minutes? Are you in love or
something? Jesus.” She said, “Anyway, I still think that’s too low for the amount of job a
house-elf does, but Dobby didn’t seem to be willing to accept more, we should try to find a
middle point about that.” Hermione said and Theo nodded, he had begun taking notes. Blaise
was their secretary but it was hard getting the secretary and treasurer to work together, given
their current standstill.
They talked a bit more about the propositions for the new legislation, in terms of working
hours, salary, days off and clothing. It was a tragedy that they had to wear those things.
Hermione was certain that she could and would find them a better deal.
They entered December and on the first week of the month, Professor Snape stopped his
lesson ten minutes earlier to give them the news they were all waiting for.
“I have something to say to you all.” He drawled after everyone had cleaned and stored their
caldrons and ingredients. "The Yule Ball is approaching — a traditional part of the Triwizard
Tournament and an opportunity for the Hogwarts students to socialise with our foreign
guests.” He said and Pansy giggled. The word ‘socialise’ seemed more foreign in Professor’s
Snape tongue than to any of the guests in the castle. Snape glared at Pansy before continuing,
"Now, the ball will be open only to fourth years and above,” Hermione and her friends all
made sounds of excitement. Another glare, "Although you may invite a younger student if
you wish— why would you want that is beyond me.” Pansy was looking very tall in her seat.
Milli and Tracy were giggling already. “Dress robes will be worn, as I’m sure you are all
aware” Professor Snape continued and took the opportunity to confiscate yet another Witchly
Glamour from under Daphne’s desk, “and the ball will start at eight o’clock on Christmas
Day, finishing at midnight in the Great Hall.”
Several noises of complaint about the hours. “I thought we’d get an entire night!” Blaise
complained.
“Let me make this very clear,” Professor Snape said, “This ball is intended to be a
celebration, however, is not to be a celebration of your ludicrous behaviour. I won’t be
tolerant of any sort of behaviour that could bring embarrassment to our house. Do you
understand?” He asked. They all nodded.
Hermione was quite aware of how noisy her friends were, but she was still impressed by the
sheer noise it was whenever a group of four or more assembled. They all seemed to talk
about one thing only: who were they going to the ball with.
Among all the giggling and whispering, rumours about the Ball itself began to spread quickly
after the news, apparently Dumbledore had bought eight hundred barrels of mulled mead
from Madam Rosmerta and booked the Weird Sisters for the night - which was the only thing
Daphne could talk about, as she was a huge fan.
They were sitting by the fire in their common room after dinner that night, the six of them
huddled together under blankets, trying to keep as warm as possible with how miserably cold
was in the dungeons. “You guys have to get moving, you know,” Pansy said.
“With what?” Blaise asked.
“Asking us out!” She replied and her indignation shook the blanket she was sharing with
Daphne.
Blaise curled his nose. “I’m not inviting any of you to the ball.” He said.
“Don't make it sound like you’d rather go with a troll,” Daphne snapped, “we are not that
bad.” Theo opened his mouth, probably to argue that and she shot daggers at him. “Don’t you
dare!”
“Do you want to go with me, Pansy?” Theo asked. Hermione was the one sharing a blanket
with Blaise and she felt how the boy tensed next to her.
“No.” She replied promptly. “I intend to have fun and kiss someone, if I go with you I won’t
be doing either.”
“Then why’d you ask us to invite you guys?” Theo asked confused.
“Not us, us , us girls in general. I mean, you could go asking boys I guess.”
Hermione saw Theo’s eyes stopping on Blaise for a second before moving to make a show of
scanning the room.
It didn’t escape her that Draco remained silent the entire conversation. She pretended her own
heart hadn’t been hammering every time their eyes met.
Hermione had just finished another tutoring session with the second year group and she
wanted to find Harry to give him some pamphlets to put around the Gryffindor common
room like he said he would after going down to visit Dobby and Winky in the kitchens.
Thankfully, she didn’t need to, because Harry found her before she even finished packing her
things and sat down on the table in front of her, Ron in toll.
She gave him the pamphlets and Hermione was certain he had said something to Ron because
for once, he didn’t make a single comment about S.P.E.W. Hermione just wished Harry
would stop bringing Ron along every time they met, but it seemed impossible to have
Weasley leaving Harry’s side for longer than 10 minutes since they resumed their friendship.
They talked a bit, updating one another on the events of the past week and of course, it didn’t
take her long to worry about her brother, for he hadn’t opened his egg again since that first
night.
“Harry, please be sensible. You can’t begin to think that you can leave this to the last
minute!”
“Come on, Hermione, I’ve got till February the twenty-fourth,” Harry said and Ron nodded.
Hermione knew that Weasley was still agreeing and siding with Harry about everything since
he put his foot on his mouth.
“Yeah, give him a break.” He said and she glared at him.
“But it might take weeks to work it out!” She said. “You’re going to look a real idiot if
everyone else knows what the next task is and you don’t!”
“Leave him alone, Hermione, he’s earned a bit of a break,” Ron repeated and Hermione felt
like throwing the entire set of chess he was studying at his face.
She didn’t, because a group of Durmstrang's boys were passing by and she wanted to make a
good example out of the Hogwarts students.
They watched as the group approached two girls that weren’t very far from them and one of
the Durmstrang's boys asked the taller of the two girls out.
The girl giggled and then nodded. The boy kissed her hand as if they were in the victorian
age and the girl giggled again.
Ron made a disgusting sound. “We should get a move on, you know . . . ask someone. We
don’t want to end up with a pair of trolls.”
Hermione let out a sputter of indignation. “A pair of . . . what, excuse me?”
“Well — you know,” Ron said, shrugging. “I’d rather go alone than with — with that ugly
thing from your house.”
“I'm afraid I don’t know whom you are talking about.” She said.
“Oh, you know, that pug-faced bitch you are always with.”
“Her name is Pansy and you know it. I won’t tolerate you talking shit about her.”
“Whatever, girls like her I prefer to be on my own.”
“Oh I see,” Hermione said, anger already rising. “So basically, you’re going to take the best-
looking girl who’ll have you, even if she’s a completely horrible person?”
“Yeah.” He replied with a shrug.

“Well, that’s exactly why you still don’t have a date yet,” she told him and packed her things
to leave.
“I don’t see the Death Eater spawns inviting you as well.”
Hermione looked at him and merely shook her head. “It's really pitiful that you think you are
better than they are.”
“Stop,” Harry said. More often than not, he had to intervene between the two. “I told you to
leave her friends alone,” Harry said and Ron turned purple in embarrassment.
“Did you forget what her friend did to me?” Ron asked in anger.
Hermione was about to reply that he had provoked her as well, but Harry got there first.
“After you called her evil and a dark witch that killed our parents.” He said and Ron shut up.
“I said it once, you don’t like one another, that’s fine. You are my best friend Ron, but she is
my sister.” There was a bit of a warning there and Hermione felt good, “I fought a Basilisk
for your sister, it is time that you understand that I’d do nothing less than that for mine.”
It felt like a promise. The air crackled and the wind sang through the window. Hermione and
Harry looked at one another and his green eyes were clear. He was stubborn, that she knew
well, but he was also loyal to no end. For him, who had no family and had wished for nothing
else other than that, it was easy. He wanted to find his sister and now that he had, he loved
her just as much as he loved his mother and father. For Hermione, it was a bit more
complicated than that. Harry was easy, she loved him as a friend and to love him as a brother
was no different. Her problem was figuring out everything else.
“Well, you two seem to be fine, put these bloody pamphlets everywhere for all I care, since
you can’t wrap around your mind that they like what they do!” He said and Hermione had
had enough of him, she got up and offered Harry a tired smile. “They like being ordered
around just like you like bossing everyone around you! It feels normal to them!”
“Bye Harry,” she said, ignoring the redhead.
“See ya, sis,”
But Ronald Weasley had yet again gotten under her skin. It was almost like he knew exactly
what to say to her to piss her off. Hermione marched through the portrait and dropped her
box of badges on the coffee table with more force than was necessary.
“What happened now?” Pansy asked, not before giving Hermione a glare for jostling her nail
polish.
“Weasley is an arse, that’s what happened. I went to ask Harry if he could put a few
pamphlets at the Gryffindor common room and Ron Weasley, among other things that are not
worth repeating, had the audacity to say yet again that house-elves liked being ordered
around.” She complained, “I bet they like it just like we enjoyed being under the Imperius
curse!” Hermione exploded.
“I hated that,” Greg said
“It was sarcastic Greg!” She snapped, “honestly!" Hermione muttered under her breath. “He
was saying how it’s normal for them to be compelled to obey every order given to them as if
they don’t have likes or dislikes! They have no free will! And besides!” She shrieked, “he has
never owned one! He has no idea what it’s like!”
A sixth year approached them and with a rigid expression, muttered “I want a badge.”
“What?” Hermione asked, perplexed. She did a presentation to her house weeks ago,
explaining everything about her organisation and most of the Slytherins had ignored her.
Well, she did get supporters after Ronald’s first bout of arseness.
“If it’s like the Imperius curse for them,” he began, “it’s not right. I’ll have a badge.”
She noticed that a few others had been paying attention to her explosion and were nodding as
well.
“Well, I never had an elf, but it will irk Weasley seeing people with it, so I will have two.”
The Head Boy said. A few others chuckled and nodded their agreement.
Hermione frowned. She didn’t want them joining just to affront Ron, but the money—
“Here, take them.” Draco said, giving the badges and collecting the coins, “A pamphlet to
read aloud the wonderful points Hermione made when Weasel happens to be passing by,
maybe? Another sickle.”
Theo snorted, but the Head Boy tossed another coin anyway.
They were on the second week of December and their Christmas break was set to start in four
days. The girls - Hermione would even admit that she was included in this group - were
getting anxious with the whole being asked out thing. The only girl in their group to get a
date so far was Tracy, who had a Ravenclaw boy that usually sat near her during Herbology
ask her out when they were repotting Bouncing Bulbs.
Blaise had surprised all of them and invited Michael Corner to the ball and Hermione saw
Theo’s Occlumency waver when the Ravenclaw blushed and agreed.
Draco had yet to ask, not that Hermione was entirely sure that Draco would ask her, but it did
seem like it every time they were alone and she’d catch him staring. He’d blush and mutter
something under his breath before looking away and avoiding her general direction for half
an hour. And then he’d do it again.
Hermione considered asking him instead, she really did, but every time she got as close to
doing it someone showed up to interrupt them.
Like Viktor Krum who was now standing in front of them.

“Hermy-own-niny,” He said and she turned to offer him a smile. He was wearing his entire
uniform, red cloak and furry hat.
“Hello! How are you? Any progress on the egg?” She asked.
Draco was in front of her, books and parchment spread between them as they were working
on their Transfiguration homework before Krum arrived. She saw from the corner of her eyes
as he leaned back on his seat and crossed his arms in front of his chest. He didn’t look very
pleased.
“Your vrother is my competition, I’m afraid I can’t tell you that.” He replied and she smiled a
bit because he indeed looked sorry about that.
“Well, I guess you are right.” She replied.
“Hermy-own-niny,” He said again and then took a deep breath, “Do you have a date to the
ball?”
She felt her eyes widening and her heart skipping a bit. Krum looked anxious and Draco
made a huffing noise from her side. She looked at him and was disappointed with what she
saw. His face was pinched and he was working his jaw, but his perfectly manicured eyebrow
was raised in a dare. “Why are you looking at me for?” He asked, cold and distant. “He asked
you.”
Her chest felt heavy and she gave a small nod before looking back at Krum. “No, I don’t.”
She replied.
“Vould do me the honour of escorting you then?” He asked and pulled a honeysuckle from
the inside of his coat, it was perfectly preserved, no doubt a spell had been placed on it. He
offered it to her. “I've been charmed from the moment I saw you,” he told her and even
though she didn’t nurture any romantic feelings for him, she couldn’t help but feel her heart
fluttering and her cheeks reddening.
Another quick glance at Draco, he wasn’t looking anymore, he had pulled a piece of
parchment and was taking notes of a chapter they had covered already. “I’d love to.” She
replied honestly. The Durmstrang boy smiled shyly and reached for her hand, where he
dropped a kiss without removing his eyes from her.
It was all very charming and proper. And in parts, she kind of expected it. They were talking
more these days and Krum really seemed to enjoy her company.
He turned to leave after getting his answer and Hermione was left staring at his retreating
back and with the tense silence for company.
She turned to the boy in front of her, he was still writing and ignoring her. Why didn’t he ask
her? Why he chose ugliness and detachment instead of taking the last step? Should she have
said no to Krum? Would have Draco asked her then?
“Draco,” Hermione called.

“Congratulations on your date.” He replied without looking up from the parchment.
“I—”
“At least you are not going by yourself now.” He replied and she exhaled. Maybe she had
read everything wrong. Maybe he had never intended on inviting her, maybe this was what he
had been trying to say all along and couldn’t find a way to it without upsetting her. Now
Krum had done the job for him.
“Yeah,” she replied, her voice very small.
She wished she could feel happier about the ball now that she had a date, Hermione knew she
had just scored the one person that every other girl in the castle wanted to have, she knew that
Pansy would freak out and the girls would all giggle and make plans, but the butterflies that
Krum gave her when he invited her had disappeared just as he left. Hermione wasn’t naive,
she knew she liked the attention and all the fumbling and blushing the much older boy
usually showed in her presence, but at the end of the day, it was always the grey eyes on the
now scowling boy she usually searched for.
They finished their homework in silence and when the bell rang indicating dinner, they
packed up their things in silence. She saw him hesitate for a second, look at her and the
flower she had carefully placed on top of her books and work his jaw. Hermione waited and
only breathed again when she heard him sighing and pointing with his head towards the exit
of the library. “After you,” he said.
Would he have asked her?
The students from Durmstrang were still having their meals with them and Hermione spotted
Viktor and his group of friends on their usual side of the table. She couldn’t help the blush on
her face when she saw him, but luckily no one noticed because Pansy had the attention of
half of the table and all of their friends.
Hermione smiled at the girl who was gesticulating and throwing her hair to one side and then
to the other. Hermione sat down in front of her and Draco followed Hermione on the bench.
“You won’t believe it!” Pansy said upon seeing them, “Olivier invited me to the ball!”
“Who?” Draco asked.
Due to the sudden French accent that Pansy had used to pronounce Olivier, Hermione
suspected he was from Beauxbatons.
“Olivier Dufort,” Pansy replied as if it helped any. Draco made a non-committal sound and
Hermione turned to Daphne for help, the blonde quickly pointed to the boy in question,
sitting next to a group of two other boys and a girl.
“Oh!” Hermione said, “He’s handsome!”
“He is!” Pansy gushed, “and I already told him about my dress’ colour, so he can wear
something that won’t be clashing with me.”
“Merlin forbids,” Blaise said in mock agreement.
Tracy had arrived with Mili and Pansy began retelling how Olivier had asked her at the
courtyard.
Hermione stayed quiet.
Two days after Krum invited her to the ball, she had yet to tell a soul about it. And
apparently, Draco had also kept the information to himself, because neither Blaise nor Theo
was giving her curious eyes. In fact, it seemed that Draco had completely ignored the fact
that Hermione was going to the ball with Viktor Krum and if anyone noticed that the boy
preferred to talk about anything other than whom he was taking to the dance, no one made a
comment.
During lunch, Viktor had passed down a note asking her to meet him in the unused classroom
that was given to him so that he could work on his egg at four, and there was where
Hermione was going. It was good that coincidently, the classroom he was using was in the
dungeons, so she could easily slip out of her common room and through the now-familiar
dungeon's corridors with ease.
“Hey,” she said after crossing the door after her, “You okay? You looked urgent during
lunch.”
“Hermy-own-ninny,” he said and she noticed that his ears were a bit red and he had been
pacing back and forth across the room. “I was told something about our ball.”
“Oh, what?” She asked, suddenly worried that she was about to be uninvited.
“The champions and their partners are supposed to open the ball. With a first dance.”
Now Hermione understood the redness in his ears, she could feel it in her own cheeks. “Oh”
He nodded as if her reaction was exactly what he was expecting. “I don’t know how to
dance.” He said, quite desperately.
This was the boy, man, that had caught the snitch multiple times during the world cup and
during the World Cup Final, this was the youngest Quidditch player to go play for a national
team, the Durmstrang champion who came to face the dragon without fear, finally brought
down by the prospect of waltzing in front of a school.
“Okay,” she said, straight to business. Hermione wasn’t the best waltzer around, Merlin
among her classmates she could fill a hand with better dancers, but she had attended
Narcissa’s balls and spied on Draco’s lesson enough to know a thing or two. “We need music
first, the rest is not that hard, I’m sure we can manage with some practice.” She said and he
nodded.
He transfigured an old table clock into a phonograph and Hermione was impressed. She
quickly cast a silencing spell on the room, so whoever passing by wouldn’t hear them inside
and get too curious and take a peek inside.
The music started playing and they approached one another, Hermione willed all the
awkwardness away from her and forced her hands to find hold in his palm and his shoulder.
He was careful with the hand on her back, but all carefulness in the world wouldn’t help
them, because they both stepped on each other feet as soon as they started.
They shared a peal of nervous laughter and tried again, but she was too nervous and he
wouldn’t look up from his own feet, worried about stepping her yet again. They were
sweating in minutes and he shook his head in distress, “the dragon vas easier!”
Hermione laughed, “We need help.” She said. Hermione knew her strengths but she also
knew how to recognise when she needed a teacher first. “Stay here, I will be right back. I
know someone who can help.”
The boy nodded and Hermione quickly ran back to her common room. The boys were
playing Exploding Snap on the floor and thankfully, mercifully, Daphne was the only girl
among them. She was the only girl in their year to have yet be asked and she was avoiding
the whole ball talk going on in their bedroom as much as Hermione was.
“Daph,” Hermione called, “I need you.” She said and the girl looked up curiously and clearly
suspicious. Hermione rarely asked anything from Daphne.
“You okay?” She asked after sitting up from Theo’s thigh where her head had been resting.
Hermione nodded.
“Yeah, just need your help with something.” She added, “Do you have a minute?”
“Sure.” She said and quickly made a bun with her hair, using her wand to keep it in place.
Daphne turned to Theo, “Don’t move, I will return for my pillow.”
“Yes, Ma'm.”
Hermione grabbed Daphne’s hand the moment the stone door closed behind them. Daphne
narrowed her eyes in even more suspicion.
“Please promise not to laugh and not to tell them. Please.” She said.
“I've never laughed at you,” Daphne said, her expression softening.
“Come, we need your help.”
“We?”
Hermione didn’t reply, just pulled Daphne to where Viktor was waiting. She opened the door
and if she wasn’t nervous about the whole situation, she’d laugh at Daphne’s surprised
expression. “Did you kidnap Viktor Krum?”
“Daphne!”
“What?” She asked, arms raised, “it's a fair question!”
“Hermy-own-ninny, vouldn’t need to kidnap me.” Krum replied, just as offended as

Hermione had sounded.
“Viktor has told me that the Champions are going to open the Yule Ball, as in having the first
dance.” Hermione explained, “but we don’t know how to waltz.”
Daphne’s surprise morphed into something else. She looked at Krum’s embarrassed
expression, at the phonograph on the table and at Hermione’s probably red cheeks. Her eyes
narrowed and then slowly widened, her blonde eyebrows almost met her hairline. “We as in
—” she stopped, “The two of you together? Going to the ball?” Hermione nodded. “Okay.
Shit, okay.” Daphne nodded once and clapped her hands. “Let's do this. I will have my
questions later, but first this, yes.” She said in Daphne’s brand of efficiency.
“Thank you,” Hermione said and went to stand next to Viktor, ready to be taught.
“First, let me see where you guys are, so I can know where to start, I mean, I have been
having classes from the moment I learned to put one foot in front of the other, you have to be
better than that.”
The music resumed and Hermione and Viktor quickly tried again, they grinned a bit
sheepishly at one another, already aware that they’d make fool of themselves once again, but
this time in front of someone else.
As expected, Daphne stopped them not even two minutes in.
“This is not so bad, we just have one big major problem in who’s leading who,” Daphne said
and pushed Hermione to the side. Without hesitation, Daphne took Hermione’s place and
forced Viktor to look in her face. “You are the one leading, you are responsible for where the
two of you will move and how the two of you will move. You have to look ahead, look at
your partner, not at your feet.” She said and just as surely, turned and held Hermione like
Krum had, “You are going to have to let go of control for once in your life, Hermione.”
Daphne said with a knowing smirk. “You are not the one in control here, you have to trust
him to guide you.”
Hermione nodded. And they tried again, with very little improvement. Daphne sighed.
“You don’t know the steps, I need—” she stopped and looked around her, “there is a spell,
I’ve never cast it before but I think I can do it,” Daphne said and untucked her wand from her
hair, the blond strands fell beautifully. “Pedes Tripudium” she cast and with a squeal clapped
in excitement as two pairs of feet appeared in front of Hermione and Viktor. It was like they
were shadows, but weren’t connected to any of their feet. “You have to follow its steps, they
know to follow the music, so you have to follow it. The tutor made us memorise where
they’d go before we started with pairs.” Daphne explained and went to one pair of shadowy
feet. With a flick to the phonograph, the music started again and she easily and flawlessly
followed the shadows with her own feet, Daphne kept her body straight and her head high.
She put them to it and it took them a good few tries to do it in a somewhat presentable way.
Hermione giggled at Krum’s seemingly two left feet as he stumbled on his own feet. They
kept at it for hours, not really noticing the hours passing as they made progress. When the
bell indicating dinner rang, the trio jumped in surprise.
They decided to stop there and try again another time. “You better practice more if you intend
to take my friend to the ball!” Daphne told Viktor when they were about to leave the
classroom.
“I vill!” He promised. “Miss Greengrass, I have a friend who’d like to take you to the ball.
Do you have a partner yet?”
“Oh,” Daphne said, pleasantly surprised. Hermione smiled. “No, not yet.”
“I vill let him know then if you are interested.”
“I certainly am.” She said and Viktor bowed to both of them as a goodbye.
Daphne turned to Hermione, her entire face a huge grin. “So,” she said when it was only the
two of them, “since when you’ve been hiding that?”
“He invited me two days ago,” Hermione replied.
“And you didn’t tell anyone, why?”

“I don’t know, I—” Hermione sighed, “Everyone wants to go with him to the ball, he’s this
Quidditch star, literally he’s everyone’s standard and I’m just— me, I guess.” She shrugged,
“I was scared that people would think I’m undeserving of going with him. I’m not as pretty
or—”
“No.” Daphne said and stopped in front of her, “stop that right now.” Daphne held
Hermione’s face with both hands. “You are more than deserving, in fact, if Krum really is this
Grand Prize to the ball, I’d say you are the only person in the castle that deserves it, because
you, Hermione Granger, are the most brilliant witch I have ever met. And if you are tired of
having your brain praised, then know that you are also the most beautiful witch in this castle.
Skeeter is not usually right, but she was spot on when she called you stunningly pretty.”
Daphne said and Hermione chuckled. “I'm being serious Granger, you’ve been so busy
having your eyes set on Draco that you haven’t noticed how much you turn heads when you
pass.”
“That's because I’m Harry—”
“No, it’s not that.” Daphne insisted, “I know it.”
Hermione hugged Daphne and the blonde hugged back, they squeezed one another without a
care for being in the middle of the corridor. They let go and laughed at their ridiculousness.
“Thank you, for everything.”
“No worries. I will hold your secret just because I want to cherish everyone’s reaction when
seeing you with him.”
Hermione laughed and together they went to the Great Hall for dinner. Daphne, true to her
word, didn’t say a single thing.
People would usually be finishing packing things by now, but with most of the castle staying,
things weren’t chaotic this time around.
Hermione was with Theo on the mezzanine in their common room, the train was going to
leave in the morning and the younger years that were going to return were all sulking in the
corner.
She was nervous, not only because of the upcoming ball, she and Krum had practised a little
bit more together and he had confessed that he had been practising by himself in his room
before going to bed. Hermione was relieved to see that he was putting this much effort into
learning how to waltz. And since Daphne said Hermione should learn to let go and let him
guide her, she was more than glad that her partner was determined. But what was really
making her nervous and a bit anxious was the fact that her last letter to her parents telling
them that she wouldn’t return home for Christmas had gone unanswered.
Hermione couldn’t help but feel like she was losing them before she even got to tell them the
truth. She missed them, she wanted to see them and hold her baby pictures and prove to
herself and the world that everyone was wrong, that they really were her parents because the
alternative was growing heavier on her shoulders day by day.
She was ruffling through parchments and all her notes, she wanted to send another owl to the
ministry before Christmas, taking advantage of the recess in the department so maybe they
could answer her this time. But she also had a few books on her about eggs and hidden
messages, trying to find anything that could help Harry to decipher the egg since Harry didn’t
seem too inclined to do it.
“I think we have a good appeal so far—” Hermione was saying.
“Hermione,”
“—three galleons per week, ten hours per day with two breaks seems reasonable, with the
amount of time house-elves sleep and—”
“Hermione,”
“We should start with that and make it a very good case about the wording applied to the
elves before asking them to do something—”
“Can you—”
“I think that’s enough for now Theo, and would you mind helping me go through these
books? I’ve read through them and separated a few—”
“Will you list—”

“—just read my notes and see if you agree with my bullet points, I think—” she stopped, not
because she wanted because she literally couldn’t continue. Theo had put his hand on her
mouth effectively shutting her up.
“Please listen to me.” He said and she made a noise in the back of her throat when she saw
him grabbing her wand from the table and putting it in his pocket. “I prefer to not get hexed
before I finish.” She glared at him. “Can I say something before you go on with your
monologue?” He asked and she nodded. Theo removed his hand slowly as if he was dealing
with a rabid dog. She slapped his hand and crossed her hands over her chest.
“What?” She barked.
“You are doing too much.” He told her. And raised a hand before she could start to argue
against him. “It’s two in the afternoon on a Sunday and you are already on your fourth cup of
coffee. You have an entire legislation for the house-elves with more amendments than
anything else I ever read. You are doing your brother’s job in this tournament, you are
tutoring four second years, you’ve finished all the essays we were given for the Christmas
Break and proofread them twice. You disappear every day for hours and the only one who
seems to know what you are up to is Daphne and she won’t budge.” Hermione raised an
eyebrow, “Yeah, I tried asking. Your leg is jumping down since we sat down, you look like
you are on the verge of tears for weeks now Hermione.” He said and she felt the mentioned
tears pool in her eyes. “I'm the one Occluding, but you are the one making your brain busy
enough so you don’t have to think about what’s bothering you.”
“Theo—”
“What’s going on?”
And the tears came. Silent at first and then all at once. Theo sighed and pushed his chair
closer to her. Hermione hid her face on his chest and he tried to soothe her.
“What a pair of dysfunctional best friends.” He muttered and she snorted a watery laugh.
“I miss my mum and dad.” She mumbled. “My muggle parents,” Hermione added because
now she had to specify.
“Then go see them.” He told her.
“I can’t.” She said.
“Why not?”
“The train leaves tomorrow and I signed the staying form. And besides, I don’t know what to
say to them, I don’t know how to—”
“Hermione, you don’t need to tell them anything now. Not until you are ready. But I do think
you should go see them, Professor Snape would definitely arrange something. You haven’t
seen them since—what? Last Christmas?”
“The summer before the World Cup.” She replied. “It's been over a year.”
“Then go.”
“But what if they notice that I’m weird? That I’m not their daughter and—”
“You are their daughter. Regardless of the truth. They’ve raised you and they love you, just as
you love them. And if they ask you why you are weird, you can give any of the other things
you are obsessing over. The house-elves, Harry in the tournament, Draco taking his sweet
time to invite you to the ball, fucking Blaise taking Moron Boot of all people.”
Hermione snorted. That last one wasn’t her obsession. “Do you really think Professor Snape
could get me to them?”
“Yes.” He said, “I have no doubts”
Hermione nodded and wiped her tears with the side of her thumb. “I will talk to him then,”
she said and started to pack her things on the table.
“Leave it,” Theo told her, “I will do it, you go. Talk to him.”
Hermione nodded again and was halfway to the stairs that led to the ground floor when she
returned and dropped a quick kiss on his cheek, “thanks, Theo.”
“Everything for you, Granger.”
She smiled to herself as she left her common room. The dungeon corridors were mostly
empty, with dinner having long finished and curfew being in less than an hour, no one wanted
to risk being caught out when the Yule Ball was around the corner.
Hermione knocked on her Head of House’s office and patiently and politely waited for the
drawled 'come in' to open the door.
“Excuse me, professor. Do you have a moment?” She asked him, only her head inside the
office.
He was sorting through some parchments, no doubt their week’s homework. He put them
aside and motioned her in with his hand.
Hermione sat down in the chair in front of his desk and put both hands on her lap and tried
her best not to pull her cuticles. “What is it, Miss Granger?” He asked her.
“I was wondering—Hm, I mean I wanted to know if—But it’s not possible, I totally
understand, is that just I—”
“Hermione,” he said, stopping her mid-babbling. “I think you forgot to ask first.”
Merlin, she probably sounded pathetic if Professor Snape’s voice was somewhat close to soft.
“I want to go home.” She said and hated how her voice shook a bit on the last word. “I know
I’ve signed the staying form and the train leaves tomorrow, but with everything that has
happened since last June, I just really want to talk with my dad.” She said.
Professor Snape was quiet for a moment. He looked at her and Hermione couldn’t figure out
what was in his expression. “Did something happen?” He asked, his voice sounded so distant,
almost like she was hearing him from a radio.
“Nothing specific.” She told him, “I haven’t seen them since the summer before my third
year.” Hermione sighed, “and Theo mentioned that I’m doing too much just because I don’t
want to think about everything that has changed in my life. He said I need to slow down.”
“I might agree with Theodore.” He said and then sighed, “have you written to your parents
about returning?”
“No. I just decided about it.”
“So they don’t know to expect you at the station tomorrow?” He asked, Hermione, shook her
head.
“But it’s fine. I have some pounds with me, I can use the payphone and call them from King’s
Cross. I don’t live far, it wouldn’t take them more than an hour to pick me up.” She said.
Professor Snape was shaking his head before she even finished. “That won’t do.
Unfortunately, you are now easily recognisable. If someone sees you waiting on the platform,
we are going to have a front page on that.” He said and Hermione tried to contain her grin.
She could almost see it,
“In capital letters, The Missing Sister, abandoned again, a piece by Rita Skeeter, read it fully
on pages three, four and seven.” She said and was pleasantly surprised to see that she got a
smile out of him.
“Pack your things, I will Apparate you to your house tomorrow.”
She grinned. “Thank you so much, Professor!”
He opened his mouth to say something else, then hesitated, while Hermione waited. “I don’t
want to assume or intrude in your life but, does any of this has anything to do with the Yule
Ball?”
Hermione felt her cheeks heating up. “No.” She said and bit down her lower lip in
embarrassment, “I have a date for the ball,” she said and Merlin, her professor thought she
was running away from the ball because nobody had asked her.
His face twitched slightly and he quickly nodded. “I can pick you up for the Ball then
because the train won’t be for two days after it.”
“Oh, I hadn’t thought about it.” She said, “I don’t want to trouble you, it’s fine then, I can go
back during the Easter break.”
“It's no trouble, Hermione.” He said and for once his voice didn’t have that usual drawl that
told them he wanted nothing more than to finish whatever conversation they were forcing
him into. “Pack your things and meet me here at ten. We will Floo to the Hog’s Head and I
will apparate you to your parent’s house.” He told her and she nodded. “I will send you an
owl informing when I will be picking you up.”
He watched her leave and when the door closed behind her, he pulled open the last drawer on
his desk and removed the tattered envelope from underneath everything else.
Carefully, he opened and removed the letter from the inside. The picture it had come with
was in his mantlepiece at his house, but he carried the letter with him always.
She is yours.
If something happens to us, I want you to hide her. Name her Hermione, for she will
have my last libation before I sleep and be the messenger of dreamers.
Almost fifteen years later and he still reacted to the words the same way he did on that cold
night of January. The news of Hermione’s birth - or Renee as it was told at the time - had hit
the papers in mid-September, he could still remember flinging the paper across the room at
the headline: THE POTTERS WELCOME A BABY GIRL. And the picture of James Potter
and his father, both smiling, as James had a black-haired baby in his arms.
The biggest mistake of his life came two months later when he overheard Trewlaney’s
prophecy and ran to tell his master. He didn’t know that Lily had gotten pregnant again,
couldn’t have imagined that Voldemort would hear the prophecy and soon find that two boys
fit that description and then choose Lily’s boy.
He had no idea that Hermione was his when he went to Dumbledore. He had no idea that he
had put the woman he loved and his own daughter in harm’s way after a stupid decision to
prove himself to a man that didn’t deserve to walk this earth.
Severus liked to indulge the thought that the only reason why Lily sent the letter was that he
had told Dumbledore and offered his soul before he learned the entire truth. He wanted to
believe that this letter was Lily’s giving him a second chance.
Lily had been hiding for a few months when the letter came. It had taken hours to Severus
reach Dumbledore when he learned that Voldemort would be targeting the Potters, but in
seconds of finishing the letter, he had Apparated straight at Narcissa’s doorstep.
She had been pregnant with Draco then and her hands had gone straight to her bump. Severus
had seen in her eyes the fear of something happening to her child and didn’t hesitate. To this
day, Severus couldn’t quite understand his decision to go to Narcissa, how he just knew she’d
help.
He had been glad for her help, relief had dawned on him like a flood, but now his daughter
was clearly upset with the whole thing and she just wanted to talk to her dad.
A dad who wasn’t him.

Severus had wanted to ask more, tell me what happened, he wanted to ask, tell me how can I
make it better, it was all he ever wanted.
Hermione was overworking herself - as usual -, was taking more than she could carry - again,
as usual - just so she wouldn’t have to deal with the mess they had gotten her into.
“Oh Lily, what did we do?” He muttered, fingers running over the letters on the paper.
She had a date to the ball. One of those slimy, inappropriate boys would take his daughter to
a ball and she’d probably tell everything to her dad.
There was no denying that, Severus was a jealous man, he had always been. In the years
since Hermione had started her schooling, he had been jealous of Narcissa being allowed to
take claim on the girl and do it openly, he had been jealous of every single conversation that
she got to have with Hermione and how he couldn’t simply cross that barrier. Remus, of
course, was another source of burning jealousy. He had the same title as Severus, but the man
had been able to reach out to her even with everything that had been going on with him,
Remus had won Hermione with ease and earned his place in her life.
Severus couldn’t find his openings to do the same. But still, she came to him. From time to
time, she’d find herself at his office door with requests and she never lied to him, which
showed he had her trust. Well, he had to insist on the truth sometimes, but she had yet to
blatantly lie to his face like her brother had done countless times.
Unaware of it, she had offered him a chance to be a father at least for one night. He wouldn’t
be giving any advice or warnings about her first date, but he’d get to pick her up and drop her
off.
And for now, that had to be enough because, with each passing day he felt his mark getting
darker and itchier, he felt less like he’d find forgiveness from her when the entire truth comes
out.
On the next morning, he had breakfast in the Great Hall and kept a curious eye on his
students, trying to see who had invited her to the ball. His godson’s frown and general foul
mood for the past few days was answer enough. Which made Severus only more curious, as
someone had been brave enough to ask her out and be subject to the boy’s nastiness.
When dessert was served he pondered over whether to tell Dumbledore that Hermione was
going to return after all. By the time he finished pudding, he decided that the headmaster
could go fuck himself. Just because.
He saw her leaving the Slytherin table and waving goodbye to her friends, he watched the
Zabini boy dramatically wipe his eyes and profess his undying love to her. Hermione giggled
and it appeased his heart a bit: he might not be able to show how much he loved her, but she
was loved something fiercely by the ones around her.
Severus waited for the agreed time to leave his seat on the high table and go to his office.
Hermione was waiting outside, leaning against the wall with just her school bag on her
shoulder. “That is all?” He asked.
Hermione smiled gingerly, “it's the exten—”
“That was illegal last year and continues to be illegal this year.” He told her and opened the
door to his office.
He explained to her that they were going to the Hog’s Headfirst and what she had to say to
get the right fireplace so they could apparate out. He knew she was quite used to side-
apparating by now, but he still made sure to apparate as swiftly as possible with her.
Hermione didn’t question how he knew where she lived and he wondered if that fact would
slip her mind. Severus had to apparate them inside the living room so the neighbours
wouldn’t see two people popping out of anywhere.
Severus was not surprised by the reaction of the muggles. Mr Granger jumped from his seat
on the sofa and the morning paper flew from his hands, Mrs Granger was standing and
unfortunately, she dropped the two mugs that she was carrying.
“Hermione!” Hermione's mother said in surprise and didn’t seem to mind much of the shards
on the floor at the sight of her daughter.
“For gods’ sake, you scared me!” Mr Granger said and got to his feet, he was closer to
Hermione and Severus and was the first to pull the girl to his arms in a warm hug. Severus
busied himself with removing the shards from the floor and fixing the two broken mugs and
cleaning the remaining liquid with a quick flick of his wand.
“What a surprise!” Mrs Granger said, “We weren’t expecting you! You said you were going
to stay!” Hermione had left her father’s arms and was now hugging her mother.
“I changed my mind yesterday.” Hermione explained, “Professor Snape agreed to bring me

since I wouldn’t be able to tell you in time for the train.” She pointed to him and he nodded at
the muggles who were now looking at him.
“Thank you,” Hermione’s father said. “You are her Potions’ teacher, right?” He asked and
Severus gave another nod. “My Hermione speaks very highly of you.”
Severus had to leave now.
“Dad” Hermione whined in embarrassment.
“She is my best student.” He managed to get the words out of his chest and past his throat.
He was surprised to see that it didn’t kill him. Hermione’s cheeks turned red and her eyes
widened in pleasant surprise. Severus was quite aware that he didn’t praise his students at all.
And it was not like he was competing with the girl’s muggle parents. He was most definitely
not.
He turned to Hermione, “I will send you an owl about the date and time that I will be picking
you up.”
“Thank you, professor.” She said and he gave her a nod before Apparating the hell out of that
house.
…
The few days preceding the ball were chaotic, to say the least. Decorations were up and it
was a little bit too much if someone asked him, which obviously no one did. Minerva had the
horrendous idea of teaching her students in Gryffindor a few basics of ballroom dancing and
Dumbledore thought it would be a good idea for all the Head Of Houses to teach their
students as well.
He left it to the very last minute, in parts because half of his students had private tutors
growing up and knew how to move their feet and in parts because he honestly couldn’t be
bothered with making an effort.
But he had at least to pretend, as Minerva kept asking if he had instructed his students
already. Sighing, he gathered all of them in one of the many unused classrooms in the
dungeons and cleared the space. His students were all looking at one another, confused as to
why they were called on a Friday afternoon.
“As you are already aware,” he started with a sigh, “the ball is in two days and there will be
dancing.” The girls giggled and the boys groaned. “And it is in fact a ball, involving dancing
with your partners—” another round of giggles and complaints. “Traditionally, the champions
and their partners will open the ball, by going to the dance floor first—” His godson made a
strangled noise and then descended into a fit of coughing. Theo Nott had to smack his back a
couple of times before Severus could continue without interruptions. “But as the dance goes,
the other students are expected to join with their partners. As I know most of you have been
instructed from an early age on how to move your feet without looking like you are
cosplaying the Bloody Baron, I’m certain that I won’t have much to worry about.” He saw a
few nods coming from the Families and even among the small percentage of half-bloods. He
removed the list from his pockets and started calling out names. His students were used to the
lack of instructions, so they merely stepped forward upon hearing their name. “The ones I
called, you are responsible to check and help the others, as I’m aware you know what a waltz
is supposed to look like.”
They nodded and Severus leaned back against the wall, supervising the students doing what
was supposed to be his job.
Chapter End Notes
Yes, I know many of you wanted him to take her to the ball, but I felt like he needed to
realize that he needs to do something, that she's not waiting and she's not other people's
last choice. And yes!!! we finally have the granger's reunion. You know, I might have
extended the time she spent away, but in canon, she does spend a lot of time with the
Weasleys during the holidays, so I just switched a bit.
Btw, does anyone know any communities on Twitter for Dramione? I don't feel
comfortable tweeting about my fic or the pairing on my main tml bc of I have a lot of irl
there lol. I created this one, but in case there's already one, please let me know!!
The next chapter comes on April 22nd
The title and the quotes at the beginning belong to As It Was by Harry Styles
crystal clear on a star lit night
Chapter Notes
Hello! Thank you so much for the patience and the comments on the previous chapter!
I've been swamped with life and haven't found the time to reply to them, but I have read
them all and i promise I'm going to reply to them as soon as I can! I honestly can't wait
for the end of the semester.
Anywayyy, I hope you like it!
None of the characters belong to me, all rights to the original author of the story
see you standing in your dress

swear in front of all our friends
there'll never be another
Chapter Thirty-One
It wasn't as hard as she thought it would be. Hermione had learned her lesson early on
regarding what she told her parents about the Wizarding World and after over a year without
coming home, her parents had as much news to tell their daughter as she did. Hermione
learned about her cousin Martha that had just gotten a boyfriend, her uncle Bernard had
broken up with his long time girlfriend and was now single again, to the complete despair of
her father, who couldn’t believe his brother had let such a good woman go. Hermione nodded
along and expressed interest in the stories, she wasn’t close to any of her immediate family.
Her magic had manifested early and the Grangers had decided it would be better to avoid
spending much time with Hermione’s cousins and aunts and uncles, in case something
happened. Hermione wondered if this would be yet another thing her parents would resent
her for robbing them once she told them the truth.
Not now. She thought. Not yet.
She told some stories as well. Hermione told them that she had helped Sirius Black find
freedom, told them how he had been wrongly accused and sentenced and that she was the one
to tell everyone the truth. Her father was very proud of her for that. Hermione spent hours
retelling the world cup events - not the one after the final, of course - and many more hours
explaining again what Quidditch was and how it was played.
Hermione also told them about the Triwizard Tournament and explained that was the reason
why they'd have a Ball at school. Her mother was more than happy to know that Hermione
got a date and “an important one at that!” Her father didn’t like the fact that Krum was much
older than she was. He grumbled something under his breath that had her mother swatting at
him and both of them refusing to tell her.
Again, Hermione didn’t tell them that Harry was participating because someone put his name
hoping to get him killed. She also didn’t say that people had died in the previous editions.
All in all, she felt good coming back. She watched BBC shows with her parents and her
father sat her down to watch a new American TV Show that had debuted in the previous year,
The X-Files, while her mother was ecstatic with the return of University Challenge.
Hermione also set to do some digging. She pulled out the old photo albums from when she
was a baby, with the excuse of not seeing those pictures in a long time. She went straight to
the earlier ones. She saw the pictures of her mother pregnant and wondered what had
happened to that baby. Did the person who hid her put her biological parents’ child up for
adoption? Could she try and find her?
Her mother shed a tear upon seeing ‘Hermione’s' baby pictures. “You were so sickly back
then,” her mother said and Hermione perked up at that.
“Yeah, you were too young to remember and then too young to understand, so we never got
around to telling you. But you had bacterial meningitis when you were little and—” her voice
broke, “The doctors took too long to properly diagnose it, the first time we went to the
hospital they sent us back saying it was just the flu.” She said and her father scowled. “For a
while, it seemed that you just wouldn’t get better, we had to rush you to the hospital many
times.” Her mother told her.
“You would vomit from high fever and have seizures,” her father added.
“You were very small, you couldn’t keep any food in and we were desperate because we
didn’t know what to do, we were so young,” her mother said with a small, sad smile, “I
thought we were doing something wrong and didn’t know how to take care of a child.”
“How old I was?”
“You had just turned two.” Her mother replied and Hermione felt her heart seizing, but it was
her father's next sentence that took her breath away.
“I still remember the Halloween decorations in the hospital.” He said and Hermione felt her
own eyes burning. Lily and James Potter had been killed on Halloween. “We brought you in
at night, your mother was yelling because you were burning up and seizing.”
“They took you from us and it was hours before they let us see you again.” Her mother said
and Hermione exhaled.
She was almost certain that her parents hadn’t seen their daughter again.
But how? Were they just there? Waiting for a two-year-old kid to die? It seemed improbable.
But at least it was something: Her parents brought in Hermione Granger on Halloween night
and left with Renné Potter. And then she became Hermione Granger.
She kept looking at the pictures, trying to see if there were any changes in appearance in the
baby, but she couldn’t find anything, Hermione looked at the baby and then the toddler in the
pictures and could easily recognise herself in them.
Hermione would never know her true face. She felt like vomiting and crying. Her parents
noticed her sudden change and were looking at her with worry. Would they still look at her
like that when they learned the truth? Hermione doubted.
She hugged her mother, “I’m so sorry mum.”
Her mum laughed softly, “For what? You were just a baby. It's not your fault that you caught
a bacteria.” She said but returned the hug anyway.
When they put the albums away, Hermione went to her porch and sat down on her old swing.
Bushes and bushes of wormwood around her backyard. She gasped.
A conversation she had with her Potions teacher years ago came to mind.
“I think it’s fascinating, how something as simple as a plant can be part of something really
complex.” She had told Snape. Hermione had noticed how he had stilled then because he had
known. Last year, he confessed how he had known the truth since her first year.
Blood rituals. Wormwood was used in blood rituals. The plants in her backyard weren’t a
coincidence.
The books Hermione read on the Missing Sister had theorised about blood rituals because
they never found her on locator spells. She looked down at her hands as if she could see the
blood underneath. Maybe she was mudblood after all, she thought with a scowl. If she didn’t
have Lily and James’ blood in her anymore, was she even Harry’s sister?
Hermione sighed. She was done with having no answers. Hermione was going to get her
answers and she was going to do it soon.
A bit later, before she started to get ready for the Ball, she cuddled next to her dad and
mentally begged someone, anyone, to keep them from hating her. Hermione somehow knew
that the next time she’d see them, she’d tell them the truth. She wouldn’t be able to move on
and go after all the answers she needed if she didn’t tell them.
Professor Snape had been punctual and this time, her parents were expecting the pop of
Apparition and didn’t flinch much with the sudden apparition of a man in their living room.
Her professor had his dress robes on and Hermione noticed that he had seemed to put on
some effort into his looks for once.
It was understandable because Hermione had spent quite a while on her hair. Of course, it
wasn’t as bad as it had been, since she used Blaise’s mum’s products since her first year and
her curls were much more manageable because of it, but she still used liberal amounts of
Sleakeazy’s Hair Potion to make it as smooth as possible. Her mother was beyond herself that
she finally got to twist Hermione's hair in a knot at the back of her head without losing a
finger and a brush or two while doing it.
Her robes were of a periwinkle-blue material that looked quite floaty and she loved twirling
on it. Her mother gushed and sniffed every time she looked at Hermione for too long. She
had to admit, she did feel quite pretty.
Professor Snape was nodding to something her father was saying and by his expression,
Hermione knew he was asking whether the students would be chaperoned somehow. Her dad
still wasn't very pleased to know that she was going with a boy almost three years older than
her.
“Ready?” Professor Snape asked. Hermione nodded and he offered his elbow for her to hold
and apparate together. She waved to her mum and dad, vowing to commit to memory their
smiles at her and their love. Just in case she happened to lose it.
The familiar but still unpleasant pull of apparition took them to Hogsmeade, Hermione hadn’t
even had the time to process the cold of the late December night when her Potions professor
cast a warming charm. The trek to the castle was made mostly in silence and Hermione only
broke it when she noticed that they weren’t heading to the castle’s entrance.
“Where are we going?”
“To the Durmstrang ship.” He replied, “When your father mentioned that you were going to
attend the Ball with an older foreign sporty guy that fought Dragons I surmised that he was
talking about Viktor Krum.” He replied and Hermione felt her cheeks heating up. “Karkaroff
has informed that his students are to enter the Hall together.”
“Oh,” she said, for lack of something better, “Okay.”
They stopped in front of the ship, it was the first time Hermione had gotten this close to it, it
looked quite commanding from up close. Snape caught her look and seemed to hesitate
before opening his mouth, “Miss Granger,” he started and Hermione was surprised to see real
concern on his expression as he looked between her and the ship behind her. “Despite some
of your previous endeavours, you are a very sensible girl and I’d like to believe that you will
be careful tonight,” he said, his words seemed to be fighting some barrier to get out.
“Karkaroff is—” he stopped because at that moment a group of three students approached the
entrance of the ship. Hermione vaguely recognised one of them as a Hogwarts student.
“Sirius told me,” She said, deciding that avoiding the words Death Eater was for the best.
“He left in exchange for a few names.”
Snape, curled his nose in displeasure at the information. Vaguely, she thought that it was
funny how their respective godsons had the same reaction to the mention of the other. He
waited for the students to enter the ship to continue. “Did Black tell you the names Karkaroff
shared?”
“No.” She replied, “He just said that Karkaroff wasn’t very liked there, because of all the
names he gave away.”
“Yes, Karkaroff tends to put people up to save himself,” he said. “Hermione, I don’t need to
tell you that you would do great in avoid being alone with him.” She nodded. “Off you go
then, have a great evening.”
“Thank you, Professor,”
Hermione turned and entered the ship. Of course, it was bigger on the inside and it didn’t
resemble a ship at all. Thankfully, Viktor was waiting for her at the entrance room and he
smiled and bowed upon seeing her.
“Hermy-own-ninny, you look absolutely stunning.” He told her and Hermione blushed.
“Thank you, you look very nice yourself.” She said.
“I saw you approaching from my vindow and decided to vait for you here.”
“Oh, thank you.”
“We vill be leaving in a few minutes, ve are just vaiting on our Headmaster"
“Hermione!” She heard and turned around, not surprised to find Daphne even more
beautiful than she usually looked. “You look amazing, oh my Merlin, what a treat to the
eyes!” She said and stopped halfway to a hug. “Sorry, I don’t want to ruin my hair, I will hug
you when we are all dishevelled after dancing."
Hermione giggled and looked at the boy next to Daphne. He was good looking as well. Her
friend seemed very happy and Hermione was glad about it.
Viktor and Daphne’s date were having a conversation in a language that Hermione didn't
know and suspected it was Bulgarian, given Viktor’s nationality, so the two girls quickly
caught up on the events of the past few days that Hermione was away.
“I didn’t tell anyone of course, as you asked me to. But Blaise went all Defending Hermione’s
Honour again after you left, he said that Draco had to man up and own up to his feelings and
not pretend that he didn’t see that you were standing right there all along and was it bloody
hard, to tell the truth for once but at that point, we all knew he was talking about Theo really,
whom you won’t believe it!” She said all very quickly and clapped her hands in excitement,
"Theo got invited by this incredibly, drop-dead gorgeous Beauxtabons' guy and it made
Blaise livid! And then Theo, our own Theodore Nott snapped and said, and I quote ‘you
speak as if you haven’t bloody jumped into asking Terry Bloody Boot, what did you expect me
to do?’ Yes, can you believe it?” Hermione couldn’t actually. “Blaise just stood there, staring
and Theo was staring back, and then both of them just left, it took hours for us to find where
each had gone to hide. Draco said they haven’t looked at one another since.”
Of course, something would happen exactly when she wasn’t present.
“And Draco?” She made herself ask, “do you know who—”
Daphne gave her a small smile, “you don’t need to worry.” The blonde said, “He knows,
doesn’t he? That you are going with Krum.”
Hermione nodded. “He was there when Viktor invited me.”
Daphne’s eyes widened and she let out a long ‘ah’, “it makes sense now. He didn’t say
anything when Blaise was going off and when Pansy judged his choice of a partner his only
response was ‘I intend to redeem myself.'”
“Who is he going with?”
“His cousin. Which we just found out it is his cousin, the girl from Ravenclaw, you know?”
“Luna.”
"Yeah, that’s her. She’s a year younger than us.”
“It’s nice that he’s going with her,” Hermione said. She just didn’t add that Lucius would
probably hate the idea.
The girls had to cut their gossiping session short because Karkaroff appeared and put all of
them in line to go to the castle. Krum, of course, was placed upfront and Hermione, as her
date, went to his side. Together, they all left the ship.
It was interesting, to say the least. At the moment that the oak doors opened and they
marched inside, every pair of eyes were looking at them. They went to the lawn, right in front
of the castle where thousands of fairy lights were in rosebushes above them.
Professor McGonagall, who was wearing dress robes of red tartan and something weird on
her hat, called the champions and their partners, telling them to wait on one side of the doors
while everyone else went inside. She explained to them that they were to enter the Great Hall
in procession when the rest of the students had sat down. Fleur Delacour and Roger Davies
were the first in line, Cedric and Cho were behind them and then it was Hermione and Viktor,
with Harry and Parvati behind her.
Harry seemed to do a double-take and only then realise that he was looking at his sister. His
jaw dropped. “Hermione?”
“Hi, Harry!” She said with a grin. Parvati actually rubbed her eyes with her fingers to check
if she was properly seeing. Hermione acted like it wasn’t offensive.
“I thought—" Harry began, but whatever he thought had to wait, for they were ushered
inside. Everyone inside the Great Hall applauded as they entered, Hermione could hear her
name being whispered and she saw a good share of looks of the deepest loathing being
thrown at her.
Hermione decided to focus on the Hall, which had been completely transformed. The walls of
the Hall had all been covered in sparkling silver frost, with hundreds of garlands of mistletoe
and ivy crossing the starry black ceiling. The House tables had vanished and about a
hundred smaller, lantern-lit ones were in their place, each seating about a dozen people. They
went to sit at a large round table, next to the judges.
On the way, she passed by Ron, who was glaring at her for some inconceivable reason, and
she promptly ignored him. Pansy was gawking, she too didn’t seem to believe her eyes.
Daphne was chuckling and had both thumbs up.
Draco…Well, Draco was a complicated sight. He looked absolutely aristocratic with the
robes that were obviously tailored to him. His hair wasn’t slicked back, thankfully he had
retired that look from his younger days, Hermione had yet to find out how soft they were
exactly. He was looking at her, just looking. He wasn’t surprised to see her, neither seemed to
doubt his eyes upon seeing her. Draco unnerved her because he was clearly appreciating her
looks with his intense grey eyes. Say something.
Hermione had to keep walking, but she kept her eyes on him for as long as she could and felt
his on her until they approached the top table.
Dumbledore smiled happily at them, but Karkaroff seemed to abhor the idea that his precious
student had Hermione on his side. Ludo Bagman wore robes of bright purple with large
yellow stars and clapped as enthusiastically as any of the students; and Madame Maxime,
who had changed her usual uniform of black satin for a flowing gown of lavender silk, was
applauding them politely. Instead of Mr Crouch, Percy Weasley was occupying the fifth seat
on the table. Hermione had all but almost forgotten that there was another Weasley.
In front of them, the plates were empty, but small menus were lying on top of them. Hermione
pretended she understood what they were supposed to do, but unsuspiciously as possible
looked around her. Harry was being a lot less discreet.
Dumbledore, who was also studying his menu, said very clearly to his plate, “Pork chops!”
And pork chops appeared.
Hermione placed her order, deciding to choose the one that looked the easiest to make. She
would ignore what this meant for the elves working probably relentlessly in the kitchen, for
now. Viktor began telling her about what they usually got to eat at Durmstrang and she was
curious about the differences.
“Veil, ve have a castle also, not as big as this, nor as comfortable, I am thinking,” he told
her. “Ve have just four floors, and the fires are lit only for magical purposes. But ve have
grounds larger even than these — though, in vinter, ve have very little daylight, so ve are not
enjoying them. But in summer ve are flying every day, over the lakes and the mountains —”
“Now, now, Viktor!” Karkaroff cut off with a clearly fake laugh, he had yet to look at her
without a glare, “don’t go giving away anything else, now, or your charming friend will know
exactly where to find us!”
Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling. “Igor, all this secrecy. . . one would almost think you
didn’t want visitors.” Karkaroff ignored the comment, just as Viktor ignored Karkaroff and
kept on.
Harry was silent in his corner and Hermione wanted to invite him to the conversation, but he
was sitting far from her and she didn’t want to disrupt the other conversations happening
around the table, as Fleur looked very intent to complain and bad-mouth any and everything
Hogwarts had to offer.
Once they finished their meal - or Dumbledore decided they had eaten enough - Dumbledore
got up from his seat and asked the students to do the same. Then, with a wave of his wand, all
the tables zoomed back along the walls leaving the floor clear, and then he conjured a raised
platform into existence along the right wall. A set of drums, several guitars, a flute, a cello,
and some bagpipes were set upon it.
The Weird Sisters now trooped up onto the stage to wildly enthusiastic applause; Pansy and
Daphne had made Hermione listen to their music and Hermione didn’t quite like it, well, she
had to admit that growing up muggle with 80s music made competition quite silly. They
picked up their instruments and Hermione, nerves flaring a bit, stood alongside Viktor and
the other champions. Harry was a bit slow to it, Hermione just hoped he knew he was
supposed to dance.
The Weird Sisters struck up a slow, mournful tune and Viktor turned to her, “I've practised
lots vhile you vere avay,”
“I'm sure you are going to do it great.” She reassured him as they walked onto the brightly lit
dance floor.
Confidently, very different from their last practice session, he put one of his hands around her
waist and held the other tightly. He steered, and Hermione let him. She even managed to
quite enjoy herself throughout it. Soon, other students came onto the dance floor and
Hermione giggled when all of her friends made themselves known by waltzing very close to
her.
“I do hope you are aware that I’m extremely cross with you and that’s why you will need to
give me a three hour retail of the how’s and when’s of this.” Was Pansy’s warning when she
literally waltzed around Hermione and Krum.
“You little minx,” Blaise laughed once he appeared, Michael Corner in his arms, “I’m so
very proud of you,”
“You are absolutely my favourite person in the entire world, I hope you know that,” Theo told
her when he passed and Daphne hadn't exaggerated, the boy in his arms was ridiculously
handsome.
They danced until the end of the song, Hermione spotting the Headmaster with Madam
Maxime, making a hell of comical pair, Mad-Eye Moody was dancing - or attempting to
dance - with Professor Sinistra, Professor McGonagall seemed to be having a lot of fun
dancing with Madam Pomfrey as the two women laughed while they danced. But the most
surprising thing was the woman in Professor Snape’s arms, Hermione had to actually do a
double-take to be sure that she wasn’t mistaking the woman, but with a quick look at Blaise’s
horror-stricken face, she knew she was seeing right. Their Potions Master was dancing with
Blaise’s mum.
The song changed to a much happier one and the adults mostly left the dance floor to the
younger ones and the fast beat playing. Hermione had never danced to these types of songs
before, but she realised it wasn’t all that hard, not when her friends mostly circled around her
and they all danced and laughed together.
There were only two people absent in their dancing group: Theo and Draco, both having
disappeared after the first song ended.
After a few songs, she told Viktor that she was quite thirsty and he went to get them some
drinks, Hermione took the opportunity to talk with her brother, as she hadn’t had the chance
yet.
“Hi,” Harry greeted her. Ron didn’t say anything, he seemed to be glaring at his sleeves.
“It’s hot, isn’t it?” She asked after sitting down. Maybe it was all the people together
jumping, “Viktor’s just gone to get some drinks.” She added.
Ron gave her a withering look. “Viktor?” He asked, his voice higher than normal. “Hasn’t he
asked you to call him Vicky yet?”
Hermione looked at him in surprise. “What’s up with you?” she asked.
“If you don’t know,” said Ron scathingly, “I’m not going to tell you.”
Hermione stared at him, then at Harry, who shrugged, but his expression told her that he
knew more.
“What — ?”
“He’s from Durmstrang!” The ginger boy spat. “He’s competing against Harry! Your
brother! Against Hogwarts! You — you’re —” He seemed to have run out of words to accuse
Hermione, “fraternising with the enemy! That’s what you are doing!”
She looked at him dumbfounded and then scoffed, “For you, I’m always fraternising with the
enemy. What’s the difference here?”
And right as she said it, one of the so-called enemies appeared on Hermione’s other side.
Pansy had her hands on her hips and she was glaring at Ron like he had personally wronged
her and her family, multiple times.
Harry looked at Pansy, Hermione noticed how he seemed to be taking Pansy in for the first
time. Hermione had to admit, Pansy was looking absolutely gorgeous with her deep forest
green dress that seemed to hug her body in all the right places, as well as make her magically
enhanced boobies even more prominent. Pansy didn’t look like she was fifteen.
“What nonsense have you been sprouting this time Weaselby?”
“It’s Weasley,” he snapped at Pansy. “Nothing that has to do with you.”

Harry was still looking and Hermione decided to intervene before another incident between
Ron and Pansy happened. “I know that all my relationships are somehow a crime to you,”
Hermione started, “but wasn’t you that have been asking for his autograph since he
arrived?” She asked, “or haven’t you begged me for my shirt with his autograph?”
“You haven’t got one yet?” Pansy asked in a tone that was very clear she thought getting
Viktor’s autograph was the most mundane thing in the world.
“There's the model as well,” Harry added to Ron’s extreme betrayal. Pansy seemed to
approve of that.
“Weaselby!” Pansy said, “you play with quidditch dolls!” Hermione bit down on her lower
lip to keep from laughing, even Harry had mirth swimming in his green eyes. “How cute!”
“Shut up, you bitch.” Ron snarled at Pansy. And then turned to Hermione, “You were
supposed to be smart, weren’t you?”
“And what is this supposed to mean?” Hermione asked, tired of his conversation.
“Obvious, isn’t it?” He asked nastily, "He’s Karkaroff’s student, isn’t he? He knows you are
Harry’s sister and he’s just trying to get closer to Harry — get inside information on him —
or get near enough to jinx him—”
Pansy grew taller next to her and Harry mirrored the reaction on her other side.
“For your information, he hasn’t asked me one single thing about Harry, not one —”
“Then he’s hoping you’ll help him find out what his egg means! I suppose you’ve been
putting your heads together during those cosy little library sessions—”
“I’d never help him work out that egg!” Hermione exclaimed outraged. “Never. How could
you say something like that — I want Harry to win the tournament, Harry knows that, don’t
you, Harry?”
“Of course I do, Hermione,” Harry replied, as to what Ron took as another betrayal, “Ron,
we all know Krum has had a crush on Hermione since he arrived.”
“Oh!” Pansy said gleefully, “Your eyes do work after all!”
“The glasses work, you mean.” It was Harry’s reply. Hermione watched the exchange warily.
She was certain it was the first time Harry had actually spoken to Pansy directly.
Ron seemed weirded out about the exchange as well, “what are you even doing here?” He
asked Pansy.
Pansy responded to Ron’s question by speaking with Hermione, “The champions and their
partners have to take a picture in front of the big Christmas tree in half an hour. I was sent to
inform you.” She said and glared at Harry, Hermione guessed it meant him as well. “Well,
this conversation hasn’t been enlightening at all, as I already knew Weaselby was a jealous
jerk, but I have to go. Hermione, I’m still cross and Potter, try not to die until the end of the
night.”
“Is that a threat Parkinson?” Harry asked with a raised eyebrow, his face was poorly
concealing his amusement.
“Oh, no, everybody knows that it’s bad luck to have odd people in a photo, that’s all.” She
said and left, swaying her hips and flicking her hair over her shoulders.
And still, Harry looked.
Ron, who was too busy glaring and being hateful, kept on, “Why don’t you go and find Vicky,
he’ll be wondering where you are,”
“Don’t call him Vicky!” Hermione jumped to her feet. She turned to her brother, “it seems to
be quite a difficult task to have a civilised conversation with you when he’s around, but don’t
you think I’m letting this go,” she said, pointing a finger at Harry, who only smirked.
“Well, sister,” he said, his voice now showing all the laughter he hid when Pansy was
around, “you can’t be the only one between us breaking hearts all around, now can you?” He
asked and it was so quick, so smartly done, that Hermione was impressed, but it had been
there, the quick nudge at Ron’s direction with his shoulder and the flick of his nose to the left
where she had already noticed her two favourite people were.
She didn’t bother replying and decided to go in the pointed direction. They were leaning
against the wall, next to the food table. Draco was a known sweet tooth and she had seen him
pick up sweets as he and Theo people-watched.
“Hey,” she greeted the pair. “I don’t think I saw either of you at the dance floor tonight.”
“And I don’t think I saw you leave the dance floor tonight, young lady,” Theo replied and
Hermione rolled her eyes.
“Are you two having fun, at least?” She asked. Hermione knew that Blaise was having fun
because she had had the displeasure of spotting him with his tongue down Michael Corner's
throat. She guessed Theo had seen as well. And Theo had left with her the last party where
people kissed whom they weren’t supposed to kiss.
“We are,” Draco replied with a grin, “My cousin, as I was pleasantly surprised to learn
during this evening where I got to actually meet her, has taught us a very interesting game in
which we create stories about the people around us and the best one wins.”
She smiled, happy that he looked pleased with his evening and that he got the chance to meet
his cousin. A part of her had dreaded seeing whom he would have invited after Pansy got
herself a date. Hermione could admit that there was only relief when Daphne told her and
Hermione spotted matching silver blond heads together. “And where is she now?” Hermione
asked.
Draco and Theo exchanged an amused glance.

“She said something about—” Draco hesitated, “the song frequency being excellent for—”
“Observing Wrackspurts mating.” Theo finished, “whatever that means.”
“What was Pansy doing with Potter and Weasel?” Draco asked.
“I'm still not sure about that.” She replied and shook her head, trying to clear it from the
possibilities, “And who’s winning?” She asked them. “The game, I mean.”
Draco smirked. “Who do you think, Granger?”
“You, of course.” She replied and shook her head. “You are absurd.”
“Well, thank you.” He said, way too pleased.
Hermione had worried that coming to the ball with Viktor would make the tentative thing
between her and Draco disappear, would make the nasty and mean Draco reappear as he
had in the library on the day that Viktor invited her. But he was showing immense maturity so
far.
Theo snorted and Hermione turned to him. “You okay?”
“Yeah. I’ve drowned all of my sorrows alongside Draco’s, and I’ve decided that I’d rather
remove my own eyeballs than to see Blaise kiss another dude, so as soon as I finish this drink,
I’m going to do something about it.”
“And that’s why he has been nursing his drink for the past hour,” Draco added.
Hermione laughed, but her laugh stopped short when Draco pushed from the wall and
stopped right in front of her. Too close, “Hi.” She said, quite stupidly.
“Hello,” he replied, his smirk something damming. “You look absolutely beautiful tonight,
Hermione.” He told her and she felt her cheeks warming.
“Thank you,”
“I wish I—” he stopped and looked to the side, Viktor had returned with their drinks. That
was unfortunate timing.
“Hermy-own-ninny.” He said and handed her the drink. He nodded to Theo and Draco. The
boys nodded back.
She looked at Draco, waiting for him to finish his sentence. Wishing that he’d say something,
anything. Hermione wasn’t expecting him to be as dramatic as Theo and his gouging eyes,
but—
“Enjoy your evening Hermione.”
Hermione returned to the dance floor with Viktor and they danced a bit more. She knew
Viktor paid a lot of attention to her, so she wasn’t surprised that he had caught up on
whatever was happening between Hermione and Draco.
“Competing for the Tri-Wizard Cup might not be the only competition I’ve put myself in,” he
told her once the song was low enough to talk over it and people weren’t jumping as much.
“Draco, he is—”
“Your first love, I assume?”
She looked up at him, his brown eyes were kind and there wasn’t jealousy in his tone, just…
wishfulness.
“Yes,” she replied. As certain as she was when filling her Transfigurations exams questions
last year, “He is.”
“Do you intend him to be your last?” He asked.
As final as a Killing Curse, “Yes.”
Viktor nodded, “He’s also a Seeker isn’t he?” Hermione nodded, failing to see what this had
to do with the conversation, “We never stop chasing the Snitch, a date wouldn’t stop him
then,” he said.
“What?”
"Could I take you on a date tomorrow? If he holds your attention like I vish I could, he von’t
be deterred by one date.”
Hermione thought about Theo gouging his eyes at the sight of Blaise kissing someone else,
about him finally deciding to do something about it. Maybe—Hermione thought, maybe it
would set Draco to finally finish his sentences.
“Yes,” she said. “I'd like that.”
They stayed together for the rest of the evening, Draco wasn’t the subject of conversation
again and Hermione found exactly just how much a Quidditch Star could be lonely.
Viktor didn’t have any close friends and he confessed to being impressed by how many of
them Hermione had. He told her that because his schedule kept him out of school most of the
time and his problems or worries were so very different from his peers, he found it hard to
relate to them or to get them to relate to him, especially when everyone seemed to see him as
some sort of god. And Viktor, Viktor was as awkward as they came.
They talked for hours and Hermione only crossed the stone passage when it was way past
three in the morning, her head was pleasantly buzzing and she didn’t care that her hair was
in disarray or that her feet were hurting. Hermione had a lovely night.
She stopped three steps in, surprised to see Draco sitting on one of the sofas, still in his
formal robes. He looked up when she entered and Hermione noticed him looking at her from
head to toe, his eyes were dark. She walked to him and sat down on the sofa with him.
“Why are you still up?” She asked.
His cheeks coloured. “Greg is snoring absurdly loud and Blaise and Theo are hissing-
fighting in the bathroom. I couldn’t sleep.” He told her. She didn’t know if she fully believed
him.
“Sorry.” She said anyway.
Draco only shrugged. “Did you have fun?”
Hermione nodded. “I did.”
“Good.” He told her, his voice very quiet. “I’m happy.”
Hermione felt her lower belly twisting. “And you? Did you have fun?”
“Yeah.” He said.
Silence.
He looked at her hair and she consciously tried to place the loose strands behind her ear.
He looked at her still flushed face, her exposed shoulder, the ribbon on her hip, the hem of
the dress where it pooled on her thighs as she sat down, at her bare feet after finally
discarding her heels.
Hermione gulped and took a deep breath. “Why didn’t you invite me to the ball?” She asked.
Draco snapped his head back to her face. His entire face was now red. She saw him gulping.
“Krum invited you first.”
“You had an entire month to do it. Besides, you were there when he invited me, I looked at
you when he did and—” she cut herself off. She had wanted something from him that could
tell her that he’d rather take her than watch Krum do it.
“Would you have said yes?” He asked her and his voice was careful, unsure.
“Of course.” She whispered. Merlin, even tonight when she went to say hi to him and Theo,
even then she wanted him to ask her.
Draco got to his feet and Hermione thought he was going to leave. She felt her heart drop.
He went behind the sofa and she craned her neck to watch. He came to stand on the other
side of her, a hand stretched out. “Can I have a dance?” He asked.
She nodded and it was her turn to feel her cheeks burning. She placed her hand in his and let
him pull her to her feet.
Draco placed the other hand on the small of her back and it burned in a way that Viktor’s
never did.
“We don’t have any music,” she whispered. This close to him, she couldn’t make her voice go
any higher.
“Did you forget the amount of tutoring that I had growing up? I can waltz in a hurricane.”
And he did just that.
He lead and she didn’t have to worry about stepping on his feet because Draco was
marvellous at it, he swayed them to a silent rhythm that only he could hear. He was taller
than her, so she got a view of his cheekbone as he looked ahead.
They waltzed in the empty common room and even barefoot and without any music, it was
perfect. Because all of the glamour of the night palled in comparison to the way his splayed
hand held her back and pulled her closer at each turn or the way his cheek had come to rest
on the side of her head or how they entwined their fingers.
Merlin, she loved him so much.
Accepting to go on that date with Viktor seemed ridiculous when compared to the feeling on
her chest now.
He seemed to notice her thoughts going stray and pulled his head from hers to look at her.
They weren’t waltzing anymore, just swaying to an imaginary tune. Both of his hands were on
her back now, while she kept hers at the back of his neck.
“Was he smart enough to kiss you, Granger?” He asked her.
“No.”
“Did he tell you that you are opalescent?” She shook her head, “Iridescent?” She shook it
again. “Pity. You should have been told how you shone tonight.”
It wasn’t conscious, the way she held to his neck tighter and her body seemed to move closer
to his. “I don’t think he knows any of those words.” She replied, her voice barely a whisper.
Hermione didn’t think that a fourteen-year-old boy had any place knowing those words, but
of course, Draco Malfoy knew.
“What did he do right then?” Draco asked.
"He asked to take me on a date tomorrow.”
This close, there was no denying the way he locked his jaw and swallowed. She felt brave
enough to run a thumb to the side of his neck. He leaned into the touch.
“How is it possible that I keep being late?” He asked, eyes intent on her.
“You aren’t.” She replied.
“Could I,” he started, grey eyes still intent on her. “Could I ask you on a date too?” He
asked and Hermione couldn’t keep her entire body from pressing against his.
“Yes.” She whispered.
“Thank you.” He said and pulled away from her. She felt her entire body react from the
distance. “Next Saturday, then.” He said and then added, “so if your date with Krum goes
well, you have time to change your mind about ours.”
Hermione didn’t tell him that she’d probably say yes to marriage if he asked her right then
and there.
He kissed her cheek and wished her a good night. Hermione stood rooted in place as she
watched him disappear into the boys’ corridor.
Chapter End Notes
Please let me know what you think in the comments!!
The title and the quote at the beginning belong to Black & White by Niall Horan
is the future just the past that i'll never outrun
Chapter Notes
Hello!! I'm so, so incredibly sorry for missing updates and not being able to update as
regularly!!
But on a good note, I have no more classes for the semester, today was officially my last
day. However, the down note is that I now just have deadlines and exams to see it
through. I will be officially done with everything school-related on June 10th and then I
will be a (mostly) free woman until September.
I'm also flying back to my home country for the summer and I'm very excited because I
haven't been home in almost a year!
Again, thank you so much for all the lovely comments you guys leave on here and also
on Twitter, I love reading them and really, really appreciate every single one of you that
takes the time to leave one!! Thank you!
Anyway, I hope you enjoy the chapter, at least is a long one this time!!
and the fire in my heart came

from ash and ember
and every step I take,
got the devil to repay
Chapter Thirty-Two
“But Hermione, it makes no sense!” Blaise was saying, they were circling the subject for
quite an hour now. “She was supposed to be in Brazil! She sent me a postcard from Amazon
through a parrot! When I went to talk to her at the Ball—”
“Oh, did you?” Theo asked, face still on his book, “you seemed quite busy at the Ball.”
Blaise smirked for reasons Hermione couldn’t understand, but ignored the comment and
continued, “she pretended not to know me! Her own son! I mean, she has had quite a lot of
husbands, I understand mistaking one or another, but she has only one son!”
“Thank Merlin for that,” Draco commented. He was sitting next to her and he was the
happiest to know that despite her date with Krum going very well, they had agreed to keep
things friendly. And so their date was still on for Saturday. Hermione felt her cheeks
reddening every time she looked at him.
“Do you think they are dating?” Pansy asked conspiringly and their group all had similar
reactions to the idea of their Potions professor dating.
Blaise, of course, had the strongest one. “They can’t be!” He shrieked, “They aren’t! She is
still going to marry the Brazilian guy, I know it and my mother is no cheater!”
Hermione sighed, “Maybe he just invited her because they are both potioneers, maybe he
wanted something from Brazil or maybe she wanted to take something to Brazil. I’m sure
they went as friends.” He tried to placate Blaise and for now, it seemed to suffice.
They still had one week of their Christmas break and clearly, they all had way too much time
on their hands.
Rita Skeeter - still not allowed on the grounds and definitely not invited to the Ball -
published on the Gossip pages of the Prophet that Hermione had been Viktor’s date, so now
she was receiving international hate mail.
Daphne found the piece on Hermione very entertaining and read it to everyone around them
when the owls dropped the morning’s edition of the Daily Prophet on their table.
“THE CHAMPION OF ATTENTION!” Daphne began, her voice was as theatrical as her
expressions. Hermione groaned, hiding her face behind her hands. “After living in the
shadows for so long Renné Potter, who still goes by Hermione Granger, has decided to not
spend a second away from the spotlight. The fourteen-year-old prematurely snagged
Wizarding World’s Hottest for herself at the Yule Ball that took place in Hogwarts two nights
ago.” Daphne read and the boys were all sniggering with her exaggerated tone. “Witnesses
told The Prophet that the pair danced all night long while never looking away from the other.
It seems that romance is in the air.”
“She has essentially called you a fast tailed girl,” Blaise pointed out.
“Wait,” Daphne said, chuckling, “it gets worse!”
“Is it possible?” Draco asked.
“Not satisfied to have the eyes of the Bulgarian Champion all to herself, Hermione decided to
show off her conquest to her brother and his best friend, Rodolph Wesley—” Theo snorted his
juice from the name, “—both boys had less favoured partners for the ball (see pages 4 and 5
on how being a Tri-Wizard can’t always help you with the girls, a story about Harry Potter,
our Tragic Champion) and to Sacred Twenty-Eight Heirs Draco Malfoy and Theo Nott - our
favourite Trust Fund Boys decided to attend as Galant Bachelors.”
“Galant Bachelors!” Blaise exclaimed and wiped tears from his eyes.
“Trust Fund Boys is also not so bad,” Pansy said with a shrug, but her face gave away how
much she thought it was ridiculously funny, “At least they got your names right.”
“As if Skeeter would dare to misspell my name,” Draco said with a scoff.
Daphne continued, “Hermione Granger showed off her date to the boys in a provocative way,
clearly intending to get a reaction. All that hair will have to be used as a rein so her good
looks don’t go over her head. Looks aren’t everything Miss Potter!” She finished, making
sure to point a finger at Hermione's direction in an authoritative way. Hermione batted it
away.
Pansy looked disgusted and Hermione was eternally mortified. It was a good thing that her
parents didn’t receive the prophet and wouldn’t be reading this atrocity. But she felt shame all
the same just thinking that Aunt Cissy would be reading that as she took her tea, or that
Remus and Sirius would drink coffee and discuss these allegations.
“You can sue her if you want.” Draco told her, “I’m sure mother would be more than willing
to offer you one of the family lawyers.”
Hermione shook her head, “I mean, people can’t actually believe in that, can they?”
...
People, in fact, could believe in that.
International hate mail was just as bad as national hate mail, with the only difference that
most of the time Hermione had no idea what the Howlers were screeching at her.
Hermione resumed her general avoidance of the Great Hall, deciding to take her meals in
random parts of the castle, so brainless girls would leave her the bloody well alone.
Harry found her on Friday, thankfully he didn’t have Weasley with him. He sat with her on
the alcove and both of them enjoyed the view of the grounds from the fifth floor in
companionship silence.
“I overheard Snape talking to Karkaroff at the Ball,” he said, his hands fidgeting. Hermione
snapped to attention.
“What about?”
“Something Snape was pretending it wasn’t happening. Karkaroff said something about
getting clearer and clearer. Karkaroff was really anxious.”
“That's weird. What do you think they were talking about?” Hermione asked.
“I don’t know,” Harry said, shrugging. “But whatever it was, Snape told Karkaroff to flee if
he wanted, but that he was going to stay at Hogwarts.”
“If it’s something that had Snape suggesting that Karkaroff flees—” she hesitated, Harry had
barely stopped thinking that Snape was evil, she had to carefully choose her words. “Well, we
know that Karkaroff is scared of Voldemort and his Death Eaters, maybe he’s a scared person
in general.”
Harry snorted.
A beetle flew through the window and landed on the glass, Hermione watched it warily,
silently willing the bug to not fly too close to her.
“Have you talked to Sirius or Remus?” Hermione asked,
“Not after Christmas. I sent them a letter.” He replied, “You?”
“Same,”
Harry was grinning then, “I read the latest piece on you.”
Hermione felt her cheeks reddening, “oh please, don’t remind me,”
“Any more conquests to show off?” He asked, laughter in his tone. Hermione rolled her eyes.
“I went on a date with Viktor,” she told him and Harry grinned, his green eyes were pure
mischief.
“How was it?” He asked and made himself a little bit more comfortable on the windowsill,
which made her less comfortable. Harry caught her glaring and quickly put her legs on top of
his.
“It was nice.” She replied, “Viktor is very nice. It’s cute how he pronounces my name.”
“Hermy-own-ninny” Harry repeated, mimicking Viktor’s heavy accent.
“But we have decided to keep friendly.” She said, “could you imagine? Having a long-
distance relationship with an international Quidditch star?"
“He wouldn’t bother your perfectly crafted study hours.” Harry joked and she snorted.
“Very funny.” She said
“But it’s not that, is it?” He asked, “The reason why you decided to keep it friendly.”
Through the corner of her eye, Hermione saw the beetle inching closer to them. Harry batted
at it and it flew, landing on their other side.
Hermione sighed, “I was prepared for him to be nasty when Viktor invited me to the Ball, but
he was the complete opposite. I know you don’t like him but—” she paused, “would it bother
you if he and I started going out?”
Surprised coloured Harry’s features as his eyebrows shot up, “Is there where things are?” He
asked.
“He asked me out. We are going on a date this week.” She told him.
Harry nodded. “Don't tell him I said that, but he’s better. With you at least.”
“He is.”
Harry looked away before he continued, “I know what Ron says about your friends and I told
him that he’s wrong. They might not be nice people to most of the school, but they are great
friends to you.”
“They are.” She said and with a smile added, “And you are becoming a great brother.”
He smiled and Hermione could see what that meant for him, for someone who had never had
a family. “Thank you, Hermione. Even if being your brother means having to deal with
Malfoy as a brother-in-law.”
She laughed, “let's not get ahead of ourselves,” she said. “And besides, you looked like you
were a fan of green yourself.”
Harry snorted, “please never repeat that.” He said and shook his head, it was a few seconds
before he added, “She's quite something.”
“That she is.”
Hermione and Draco kept their date a secret between them at first, so they could properly
enjoy it without his friends - good intention and all - breathing down on their every move.
They got lucky that Saturday was a Hogsmeade weekend and most of the students were
excited to leave the castle and visit the village. Hermione had noticed that a lot of students
had sort of coupled up after the Yule Ball and most of them were eager to enjoy Hogsmeade
together.
They also would be going but had decided to meet up with their friends later. Hermione had
built quite the reputation for the past four years and no one batted an eyelash when she said
she wanted to enjoy the empty library on a Saturday morning before going to the village.
Hermione and Draco were quite the package deal that it seemed obvious that Draco would
stay as well.
So once their friends had all left, Hermione and Draco met in the mostly empty common
room. The weather was still quite cold since it was early January and Hermione wrapped
herself up in a heavy coat and her Slytherin scarf, not to waste an opportunity, she also wore
the tightest pair of skinny jeans she owned, quite aware that they hugged her legs pretty
nicely that she even caught Pansy once eying the muggle clothing with burning curiosity.
Hermione let her hair down and her curls were quite tame, almost as if they knew it was an
important day for her.
Draco was already waiting for her and she felt inexplicably nervous at the sight of him. It
wasn’t like that would be the first time they’d be spending time on their own. They had
shared beds countless times for Merlin’s sake.
He was also wearing a heavy coat and his Slytherin scarf, but he had black slack pants on
instead of jeans. Secretly, Hermione wondered what it would be like, to see Draco wearing
jeans.
“Hi,” He said and she noticed that his cheeks had a pink tint to them.
“Hi,” she replied.

“I hope you don’t mind climbing a few steps today,” he told her and shyly offered his hand to
her.
“I don’t,” she said, taking his hand.
He pulled her and hand in hand they left the dungeons and went up the great staircase. He had
lied, they wouldn’t be climbing a few steps, instead, they were climbing all the steps
Hogwarts had to offer because almost ten minutes later, they found themselves on the
Astronomy tower.
"Have you never wondered how one could get to that small tower on the upper side of the
Astronomy tower?” He asked and yes, she had, but long ago had decided that it was just
some architectural decoration, to make it look nicer. Not once in their many astronomy
classes, she had found any door that indicated they could go even higher from there.
Apparently, Draco had.
“My great great great grandfather was Headmaster, as I’m certain you know,” Draco began
explaining in a low voice as they began walking around the tower. Professor Sinistra’s office
was right there, they didn't need her coming out and asking what they were doing there on a
Saturday morning. Up here it was a lot windier and therefore colder than their dungeons, so
Hermione used it as an excuse to get as close to Draco as she could.
He went to a corner, mostly hidden from view, but not on purpose, it simply felt
inconspicuous enough that Hermione would merely not notice it. And then she realised that
was on purpose. There on the wall closest to one of the big windows they usually used to
look out to the sky during classes, was a slightly crooked painting of the sky. Draco moved to
strengthen it and Hermione heard a click. She didn’t need the excuse of the cold to get closer
to him now, she was honestly curious as the stars and planets in the painting moved and from
inside Venus, a small hole appeared.
She gasped and Draco turned at her to smile, “Welcome to a secret part of the castle,
Granger.” He removed the chain of his necklace from under his scarf and Hermione finally
learned what it held. It was a ring, not different from the one she saw on Lucius’ finger. But
this one, she knew it was a Black family signet ring.
“Why don’t you wear it on your finger?” She asked as she watched him press it against the
small hole. It fit perfectly.
“I’ll wear the Malfoy ring one day.” He replied just as a doorknob appeared on the side and
he turned it. “With Sirius Black reinstated as a proper member of the Black family, I’m not
the heir anymore. He can wear his, I have my grandfather Cygnus’ ring on a chain.” He
explained and since Hermione was not an expert on Pureblood customs, the difference went
over her head.
Not that mattered now when the new door opened and revealed a study. They stepped inside
and as soon as Draco let the door close behind them, it disappeared. On top of their heads
was a glass roof, even though it didn’t look like it from the outside. It was a small circular
room, all the walls were covered with either bookshelves or maps of different parts of the
sky. Telescopes and other instruments to observe the sky were scattered around the room and
on the table at the opposite corner from where they stood. Right in the centre, there was a
fluffy rug with different constellations on it. He removed his scarf and coat, revealing a very
soft Slytherin-green sweater. She did the same and revealed her black wool turtleneck. She
rarely wore that, because she felt self-conscious about the way it marked her breasts. But
now, seeing how Draco’s attention was momentarily lost to Hermione’s chest region, she
decided it had been a great choice.
“Come,” he said, taking her hand again and pulling her to the rug. He removed his shoes
before stepping on the rug and Hermione did the same. “What do you see?” He asked.
Hermione studied the rug, she could make out Sirius, Orion and Draco’s namesake, there
were many others that she didn’t recognise at a glance. But she understood, “the stars on the
rug are the ones of the Black family members’ names.”
He smiled and nodded. “Yeah, this is Mother’s.” He said, pointing to Narcissus, "and this is
Delphi’s, the star every Phineas that came was named after."
“Every new name appears on the rug?” Hermione asked, she had crouched to see it from up
close and was tracing the stars in Draco.
“Yes, my antecessors haven’t been very creative with the names, so we have a lot of people
that share their stars.” He told her and sat down cross-legged next to her, she quickly did the
same. “I'm the first Draco, though.”
“Of course you are,” she said and they shared a warm smile. Hermione didn’t think anyone
else could ever carry the name as he did. “It suits you,” she said.
His cheeks returned to the shade of pink that told her he was embarrassed and she looked
away, trying to keep her own cheeks from getting a matching colour.
Draco summoned a basket that had been tucked in a corner, surprising her. “I thought we
could have some brunch,” he told her and opened the basket, where Hermione saw a
multitude of fruits, pastries and biscuits. “I went down to the kitchens and personally asked
Dobby for help, so you can eat assured that there was no slave labour involved in the
preparation of this.”
Hermione was pretty certain that she could kiss him at that exact moment.
“Thank you,” she said and reached inside the basket, helping Draco remove the food, not
before setting the medium-sized towel that had been also inside on top of the rug, so they
wouldn’t get crumbs on a millennial magical rug.
Draco also summoned the cushions that were on the sofa behind him and arranged them
around the both of them, creating a very comfortable area.
“You gave a lot of thought to this,” she said, her toast halfway to her mouth.
He blushed again, “it had been a long time coming,” he replied. “And besides, I had to make
sure you would be interested in a second.”
Hermione looked around her. Draco knew her. Probably better than any of the others. It
finally dawned on her just how quite aware he was of the things she liked. Hermione couldn't
sorely blame Harry, she also had a penchant for adventure: Get to explore a secret room in
the castle? Yes. And learn a bit more about ancient magic? Absolutely yes. Just the two of
them with cushions and books around them? She needed nothing else.
“I am.” She replied and he raised a single stupid eyebrow and smiled with that quirked
mouth.
“We barely started Granger, are you that eager to date me?”
Hermione snorted, “Please, I thought you had left your ego outside.”
He laughed and they resumed their brunch, no one acknowledged that they had moved to sit
closer together. They talked between bites and then decided that throwing fruit into each
other’s mouths was a sensible source of entertainment.
Draco vanished the basket and the crumbs and they rearranged themselves on the rug, laying
belly down on it, Hermione had each elbow bracketing Draco's constellation and it seemed
fitting because Draco’s eyes seemed endless and Hermione, a fastidious student as she was,
found herself perfectly content to determine every detail about them: the startling blue of his
irises, the blackness of his dilated pupils, the curve of his pale lashes. Draco Malfoy was her
favourite subject at the moment and Hermione was, as Draco had put, eager to learn if his lips
would be as sweet as the strawberries they had a few moments ago.
“You know,” he started, he also seemed to be paying meticulous attention to her face, “I
wondered how going on a date with you would be different than what we already did.” He
said and Hermione had to look up and focus on him instead of the mole she had just
discovered on the slope of his neck. “And I know now.”
“Yeah?” She asked, her voice was ridiculously affected, “what’s the difference?”
“I can openly look at you without pretending that I’m not hopelessly infatuated with you.”
Merlin, he was going to be the death of her.
“Oh,”
Draco smirked and Hermione remembered Blaise’s words from the train ride, ‘he was quite
charming instead’ and that Draco had ‘Narcissa's flair for romance’.
“What?” He asked. Hermione knew he was quite aware of what he had done. Draco looked
utterly disarming when his mouth quirked and his nose scrunched up inelegantly whenever
he was truly amused.
Hermione decided to wipe that smirk right out of his face. She offered one of her own and
leaned forward, surprise coloured his features and the black around his grey eyes widened.
Hermione stopped short, their shoulders were touching and their faces were inches apart.
Draco was no longer smirking, instead, he was looking between her eyes and her lips.
“You would be my first kiss.” She said and watched as he fought to hide his smile. He leaned
in as well and his fringe was falling a bit onto his forehead and because she could, because
whatever had taken place between them in this space made her confident enough to reach and
push the fine hair away. They were as soft as she had imagined them to be and in this light,
his white-blond hair practically gleamed.
“I can work with that,” he replied and Hermione gave a little snort, he was amused by the
sound and leaned in a bit more, their noses were almost touching now, “I can work with being
all of your kisses,”
“That’s presumptuous of you, how can I give you all of my kisses before I even know if you
are a good kisser? I’d be bargaining a lot here and—hmmf”
It was just a press of lips at first, Draco had just wanted to shut her up and she figured that
she might have annoyed him by doubting his kissing skills. But then he shifted to a sitting
position, one that allowed him to hold her face in his hands and pull back just slightly, “I will
definitely work with that,” he said, still close and she grinned before pressing their lips
together again.
They moved slowly, still a bit unsure. Hermione was never a fan of romance novels and she
figured that the descriptions in the books weren’t that reliable. One thing she knew was that
her heart was hammering in her chest and she was terrified that he could hear it. Even if he
did hear it, he didn't seem to mind, because he was tilting his head to the side and trying to
pull her even close to him with the hands holding her face.
Hermione needed to move, needed to touch him, her position kept her from reaching out,
because she needed to hold her body somehow. Hermione pulled back enough just to
rearrange herself as he had done, both of them now sitting cross-legged in front of one
another. Their knees pressed together as they resumed the kissing, this exciting learning of
each other's lips. And Hermione could touch now, she could finally do what she had been
eager for months now.
His hair was as soft as she had thought it’d be and her fingers seemed to find a home at the
back of his neck. The sound of surprise at the back of his throat when she tugged him to her
by his neck did something murderous in her chest and she knew, not a smidge of doubt, that
something had happened in her chest, like a chain locking into place, keeping her bound to
him.
Draco’s eyes were darkened when they finally pulled apart, there was almost no grey left
with the size of his pupil but Merlin, his smile was something else. Hermione was privileged
enough to be on the receiving end of a few private smiles but this one was a new one, this
one was her new favourite and most probably she’d be able to cast a Patronus with it.
“I might work with that as well,” she replied, a bit shyly and he laughed, but not before
stealing another kiss.
Merlin, would that be a thing now? She wasn’t sure she’d survive being a prospect of
receiving random pecks from Draco Malfoy.
They talked a bit more and definitely kissed a bit more, and by the time the sun began to set,
their stomachs were rumbling and they decided to go down to Hogsmeade to meet their
friends. It was January and they were in the highlands, so Hermione knew it couldn’t be past
four as the sky still have some brushes of red and orange but as they rearranged the cushions
and Draco offered his hand as they stood at the doorway, Hermione couldn’t help but feel that
in the afterglow, everything felt a bit surreal–soft, plush and indulgent.
The trek down and to the village was pleasant, they were wrapped up in their coats and
scarves again and Draco had an arm around her shoulders and she was tucked on his side. It
was a bit silly, how they’d grin at one another every time their eyes met and Hermione felt
butterflies at every squeeze of Draco’s arm around her.
They found the rest of their friends at the Three Broomsticks, Hermione was surprised to see
that Blaise and Theo were sitting side by side and seemed to be properly talking. Blaise sure
was back on his unabashedly staring.
Theo spotted them first and his eyes went to the way she and Draco were embraced. He
smiled and winked at her before waving to catch the other’s attention.
“Hey!” Pansy said and by the glint of her eyes alone Hermione knew she was due to a very
long retelling of her date.
They sat with their friends and Draco stayed close the entire time, they had to let go of each
other’s hands to eat and drink, but their legs remained interlocked under the table.
Not surprisingly, Harry was there with Ron. They weren’t sitting as far as they used to and
Hermione soon found out why.
Harry stomped to their table and dropped the morning’s edition of the Prophet down in front
of them.
“Well, hello Potter.” Blaise greeted, Harry ignored him and turned to Draco.
“Where are those cronies of yours?” He asked Draco
“Who?” Draco asked, feigning ignorance. Hermione was trying to read the paper and sighed
when she saw the headline: DUMBLEDORE’S GIANT MISTAKE.
“Your friend who got bitten by a flobberworm” Harry spat and her friends sniggered.
“We do not associate with them anymore,” Theo said and Hermione raised a single eyebrow
in question. She had noticed that Vince and Greg were around less and less, but she didn’t
think it had been a conscious decision among the boys.
Given Theo’s stony expression, it had been.

Harry seemed a bit put off by that, but he quickly shook it off, “Well, next time they decide to
give an inside scoop to that horrid woman remind them that flobberworms don’t even have
teeth.”
Pansy smirked, “would you look at that,” she started, “Potter has learned something! He’s
getting an education after all, not only glory and fame.”
“I try to squeeze in my homework between fighting basilisks and dragons,” Harry replied and
without another word, left their table.
Hermione turned to Pansy, “will you stop that!”
Another brilliant smirk, “what exactly?”
Hermione refused to explain and dropped the topic, not ready to go over whatever that was
yet.
Thankfully, the conversation shifted and they laughed together for a good hour before that
wretched woman entered the pub.
Hermione watched as Skeeter tried to talk with Ludo Bagman, but the man quickly made
himself scarce. In Hermione's opinion, he always seemed to be running away from one
person or another.
“Trying to ruin someone’s life?” Harry asked loudly from where he was.
“Oh boy,” Blaise said upon seeing Skeeter, “this is about to be good.”
“He has quite the mouth on him,” Pansy commented and it felt dirty
Skeeter’s eyes flashed maniacally and she seemed to realise that she had her favourite writing
material inside that pub. Hermione braced herself.
“Harry!” Skeeter said, her face looking like Christmas had come again. “How lovely! Why
don’t you come and join—”
“I wouldn’t come near you with a ten-foot broomstick,” Harry replied furiously.
“Woosh,” Theo said.
“What did you do that to Hagrid for, eh?”
Rita Skeeter raised her heavily pencilled eyebrows. “Our readers have a right to the truth,
Harry. I am merely doing my —”
“Who cares if he’s half-giant?” Harry shouted. “There’s nothing wrong with him!”
People grew quiet, everyone had dropped their own conversations and were focusing on the
exchange.
“How about giving me an interview about the Hagrid you know, Harry? The man behind the
muscles? Your unlikely friendship and the reasons behind it. Would you call him a father
substitute?”
Hermione had had enough.
Hermione stood up very abruptly, her butterbeer clutched in her hand as though it were a
grenade.
“Hermione, no” Draco and Blaise said at the same time.
“You horrible woman,” she said through gritted teeth, ignoring them “you don’t care, do you,
anything for a story, and anyone will do, won’t they? Even Ludo Bagman—”
“Sit down, you silly little girl, and don’t talk about things you don’t understand,” Rita Skeeter
replied coldly, her eyes hardening as they fell on Hermione. “I know things about Ludo
Bagman that would make your hair curl . . . not that it needs it —” she added, eyeing
Hermione’s bushy hair.
Hermione scoffed. “Wow,” she said, her tone fake. “This comeback and you fancy yourself a
reporter.” Hermione tsked in the end and the hairs at the back of her neck stood when she
realised that she had sounded exactly like Pansy.
The boys had jumped from their seats and gotten around her, “Let's go,” Theo said. “C’mon,
Granger,” he pulled her and then looked at Harry. “Better leave as well,” he said and nodded
to Skeeter, who already had her Quick-Quotes Quill out, zooming backwards and forward
over a piece of parchment on the table.
The two groups left the pub at the same time, but no one outside seeing them would think
that they were together.
“She’ll be after you again, Hermione,” Ron in a low voice as they all walked quickly back up
the street.
“Let her!” She said defiantly and her shaking only subsided when Draco got hold of her hand
again. She looked down at their entwined hand and when she looked up, she saw that Harry
had been looking as well.
“I do think her best articles are the ones after you,” Blaise commented, “I am highly
entertained from beginning to end.”
There was an all-around snort and Hermione didn’t mention that they walked up together up
to the castle.
Severus was doing his best on keeping the hate mail to a minimum, but Skeeter’s latest piece
had been something else. She had managed to enrage two different groups of people. Krum’s
fans who had been very vocal on how undeserving his daughter was to the quidditch star,
were now outraged that she had so easily dismissed him to some ‘posh British magical royal
inbred’ as one of the most creative ones had written. He kept that from reaching his daughter,
but a few of them managed to escape him.
The group regarding the so-called posh British magical royal inbred was equally furious that
a muggle-raised half-blood had dared to put her hands on Draco Malfoy.
Severus, just like Hermione, was dying to know how that Skeeter woman was getting all of
her scoops.
“Something has to be done!” Hermione had barged into his office three days after the piece
had been published. Her hair was cut unevenly and a few strands were purple. Severus was
certain it wasn’t his daughter’s latest fashion trend. “The only person that I talked to about
my date with Draco was Harry! And I know he didn’t go selling it to her!” Severus pretended
that the word 'date' coming from his 15-year old daughter hadn't made him want to run and
hide.
“She has already been forbidden from entering the castle grounds, I’m afraid our hands are
tied, Miss Granger,” he had replied, which had only served to anger her further.
"She clearly has some illegal method of overhearing private conversations!” Hermione had
replied, “Harry and I were on an alcove and we were the only ones there.”
“You may want to ask your brother,” Severus had said, “as he is quite proficient in hearing
conversations that do not concern him.”
Hermione’s cheeks had gone red and because fucking Narcissa Malfoy had taught the girl
Occlumency he couldn’t see the thoughts in the front of her mind anymore, so he couldn’t
check what else her brother might have told her of the conversation he overheard between
himself and Karkaroff.
“I'm controlling the post.” He had confessed in the end, and she could take what she wanted
from that, “Most of the mail doesn’t get to you as I’m working to intercept them. I am,
however, unable to intercept all of them, but until the school finds a better postal service, you
might refrain from opening everything that is dropped to you.”
Severus had offered to fix her hair for her and she had thanked him with a blush.
Later, when she left, Severus wondered if he had done the right thing by telling her, or if he
had shared a bit too much. There wasn’t much he could offer her now, God knew that he
didn’t know if there would be a time where he could offer anything to her, but he at least
wanted her to know that someone was doing something about the bullying.
He of all people knew how much it meant when you felt like someone had your back when
you were being bullied. He wouldn’t allow his daughter to feel the same hopelessness as he
had.
The weeks passed, and Hermione being the smart girl that she was, started to avoid open
spaces or sitting next to windows, he once caught Parkinson laughing and joking that
Hermione was afraid of the wind hearing her, but Severus was starting to think that there
might be some truth to it. Hermione clearly thought so.
Hermione had replaced studying at the library with studying at the mezzanine in her common
room, so Severus connected the bookshelves there with the library’s archive so his daughter
could simply speak the name of the book she wanted.
One of the portraits in the Slytherin common room offered Severus a view of the happenings
there and he had sent a slip of paper to her while she worked on an essay that was probably
perfect already. He kept it anonymous of course, just writing ‘ask the shelves for the book you
want’ and proudly watched as her head jumped up, looking around trying to see who had sent
it. Curiosity won and she walked to the closest bookshelf and called for a book. Madam Pince
would slowly murder him if she ever found out, but Hermione’s gasp and subsequent giggle
at the book appearing in an empty spot and presenting itself to her were worth it a dozen
times.
...
Thankfully, the rest of January and the first half of February had been mostly uneventful. Of
course, there was the minor matter of his cupboard being robbed and he was getting quite
annoyed by it. He knew of what the person was stealing and it irked him knowing that most
probably there was someone in the castle brewing Polyjuice Potion. Albus, as always, didn’t
seem to think the matter, in particular, was as urgent as some others.
Severus disagreed, he was certain that whoever was on polyjuice was the one behind all those
exclusives Rita Skeeter seemed to be getting, as well as making sure that his daughter’s got
the nastiest letters.
One month before the second task, he was almost asleep when he woke up to banging outside
his quarters. Fuming and cursing the day he agreed to teach in a school filled with stupid,
reckless children, he went out to investigate.
“Filch? What’s going on?” He barked, spotting the caretaker at the foot of the stairs.
“It’s Peeves, Professor,” Filch hissed. “He threw this egg down the stairs.”
Severus’s eyes narrowed. The Poltergeist had yet to start a career in stealing, it seemed
unlikely he’d start with the Tournament’s eggs. The poltergeist knew better than to risk
Dumbledore finally banishing him.
Which only led to Potter. Severus could swear he felt a grey strand appearing on his head.
Harry was the only champion with the ability to vanish and Severus was certain that this had
been yet another occasion.
He had seen the torches lit on around his office and his cupboard’s door ajar on his way to
this racket. Another frown. If Severus learned that his daughter and her brother were indeed
brewing another batch of illegal Polyjuice potion… Merlin help him.
“Peeves?” He asked, staring at the egg in Filch’s hands. “But Peeves couldn’t get into my
office—”
“This egg was in your office, Professor?” The squib asked and Severus’ already thin patience
completely vanished.
“Of course not,” he snapped. “I heard banging and wailing—”
“Yes, Professor, that was the egg Peeves threw it, Professor”
“But my cupboard’s door was ajar, somebody has been searching it!”
“But Peeves couldn’t—”
“I know he couldn’t, Filch!” Severus snapped again. “I spell it in a way that only a wizard
can attempt to break it!” Well, he might be giving Harry a lot of credit, or maybe it had been
his daughter, but either way, he was certain he had locked it with strong locking spells that no
fourth year would be able to open. No matter how brilliant they were. “I want you to come
and help me search for the intruder, Filch.” He said, eager to catch the boy and leave him to
Filch’s anger so he could go back to sleep.
“I — yes, Professor — but —” Severus glared at the man and he gulped, “The thing is,
Professor,” he started again plaintively, “the headmaster will have to listen to me this time.
Peeves has been stealing from a student, it might be my chance to get him thrown out of the
castle once and for all —”
“Filch, I don’t give a damn about that wretched poltergeist; it’s my office that’s —”
Clunk. Clunk. Clunk.
Of course.
Severus whirled to the noise. He wanted to shove that cane through Mad Eye’s magical eye.
“Pajama party, is it?” he growled up the stairs.
Now, now it made more sense.
Mad-Eye’s office was nowhere near this part of the castle. He had no business being here.
“Professor Snape and I heard noises, Professor,” said Filch at once. “Peeves the Poltergeist,
throwing things around as usual — and then Professor Snape discovered that someone had
broken into his off—”
“Shut up!” Severus hissed to Filch, cutting him off. Mad-Eye had gotten on his nerves during
his first week and by now, Severus wanted this semester to be over so the man would leave
the castle. He was done with the random inspections in his office.
Mad-Eye's normal eye was focusing on them, but Severus noticed that the magical one was
stuck somewhere behind them. Potter was there then. Severus knew the man could see under
that Cloak of his.
“Did I hear that correctly, Snape?” Mad-Eye asked slowly. “Someone broke into your
office?”
“It is unimportant,” he snapped coldly.
“On the contrary,” Mad-Eye said, his scarred mouth tugging into a horrendous smile, “it is
very important. Who’d want to break into your office?”
You tell me, Severus thought. “A student, perhaps. Coward people most certainly.” He added
and saw the smirk on the man’s face. Fucker.
“Reckon they were after potion ingredients, eh?” Mad-Eye asked. “Not hiding anything else
in your office, are you?”
He made sure his voice had dropped to that low, dangerous tone that made his students shake.
“You know I’m hiding nothing, Moody, as you’ve searched my office pretty thoroughly
yourself. I’d believe an Auror like you would trust your job.”
Mad-Eye's face twisted into an even uglier smile. “Auror’s privilege, Snape. Dumbledore told
me to keep an eye —”
“Dumbledore happens to trust me,” He snapped. With Potter somewhere around them under
that cloak of his, the last thing he wanted was for him to start believing that Dumbledore
suspected Snape. He wouldn’t hear the end of it. “I refuse to believe that he gave you orders
to search my office!”
“Albus is a trusting man, isn’t he? Believes in second chances.” He said, in a tone that very
clearly showed how he hated the idea of second chances, "But me—” he shook his head, the
hairs on his mangled head fell to his eyes, “I know that there are some things you can never
scrub off, they might get clearer but in the end, they will always darken again, won't they?”
His mark burned something terribly and he couldn’t avoid seizing his left arm. His eyes
narrowed to slits. Mad-Eye’s presence should not affect the mark. Not even Lucius’ presence
got his mark reacting. Which Severus would have to later give some more thought to that.
Mad-Eye laughed. “Get back to bed, Snape. Lest you start crying on your knees.”
Severus froze. Severus had cried on his knees twice in his life. To Voldemort, when he
begged him to spare Lily’s life and to Dumbledore, when he begged the man to save the
family. And since the old man was still alive, Severus knew he hadn’t broken the vow of
never telling a soul about it.
He took a step closer, fury was threatening to consume him, but he was Occluding enough to
not let it cloud his other senses and there it was, the familiar smell of Polyjuice.
“You don’t have the authority to send me anywhere.” Severus hissed, hiding his discovery.
His mind was spinning. The little comments. The way he seemed to have it out for Hermione.
How he always seemed to be two steps behind Potter.
Mad-Eye—The pretender, smirked. "You’ve dropped something, by the way.” He said and
Severus caught sight of that familiar piece of parchment.
There. Potter had been stupid enough to drop it and he would be able to see the name. The
map didn’t lie, the name of the person under the Polyjuice would be there. For the first time
in his life, he thanked the Marauders.
Severus made to grab it and he had barely touched the parchment when the pretender Accioed
it from him.
The boy was going to send him to an early grave. “Potter!” he barked and turned around,
trying to spot the boy under the cloak. He took note of where the egg seemed to have fallen
and where the map had been. He held a scoff. The boy was stuck on the tricky step, it was the
only explanation for why he hadn’t moved or acted as a ghost to retrieve his belongings.
“There’s nothing there, Snape!” Mad-Eye said amusedly and Severus wanted to drop him off
the stairs, “but I’ll be happy to tell the headmaster how quickly your mind jumped to Harry
Potter!”
“Meaning what?” Severus whirled around and glared.
“Meaning that Dumbledore’s very interested to know who’s got it in for that boy!” He
explained, “And so am I, Snape… very interested…”
Of course, he was.
“I merely thought,” Severus started, cautiously, if this person was in league with Voldemort,
what he was most certain about, he had to keep the pretence of still being on their side, “that
if Potter was wandering around after hours again . . . it’s an unfortunate habit of his . . . he
should be stopped. For — for his own safety.”
“Ah, I see,” Mad-Eye said softly, clearly amused. “Got Potter’s best interests at heart, have
you? Feeling a bit familial maybe?”
There was a pause. Severus’ heart was beating like a wild rabbit in his chest.
This person knew that he was Hermione’s father.
“I think I will go back to bed,” He said curtly.
“Best idea you’ve had all night,”
He walked back to his office with a thundering heart.
Narcissa. Lucius. Remus. Mary. Voldemort.
Someone else.
He didn’t care that it was late, he cast a Patronus and jumped when he saw that his doe had
been replaced. Facing him was a grey wolf and he blinked at the silvery animal. He knew
Hermione’s Patronus had turned out to be an arctic wolf. Both animals were from the same
family. He was completely and utterly fucked.
“He’s back enough to be gossiping about paternity.” He said, making sure that his voice was
disguised enough in case Black was around. “Send it to Remus Lupin and Narcissa Malfoy,”
he told the animal and watched it soar away.
Narcissa’s silvery peacock arrived first, “I'm coming through,” it said and was the only
warning he got before he heard the green flames flicking. He quickly removed the grate on
his Floo and allowed Narcissa and surprisingly, Lucius as well.
They had barely stepped out when the flames appeared again and Remus stepped through. He
and Lucius scowled at one another.
“What on earth is he doing here?” Remus asked.
Severus checked the silencing charm on his office and reinforced it, just in case.
“I don’t know why is that hard to believe that I am actually fond of the girl,” Lucius replied
as if he hadn’t sneaked a possessing book into the castle two years prior.
Remus decided to ignore him and turned to Severus, “You were lucky he was in the bathroom
when it came,” Remus said. “And it has changed”
“I'm aware.” Severus snapped.
"Do you miss me that much?" Remus asked and he wanted to hex the smirk right off the
man's face.
“What have you learned?” Narcissa asked, keeping Severus from attacking Remus by going
straight to the point.
He told them about the events of the evening and recalled Moody’s behaviour throughout the
semester.
“Do you think it could be Peter?” Remus asked, “Sirius and I are certain that he ran off to
Voldemort last year.”
“Since when has Pettigrew been able to brew a single potion?” Lucius retorted, “I think it's
the same person who cast the Dark Mark on the world cup.”
“I thought it had been you,” Remus bit and Lucius ignored the man completely.
“Who’s out?” Narcissa asked. “We must be forgetting someone.”
“What if is someone new?” Remus asked instead.

Lucius scowled, “He hasn’t contacted anyone from the Inner Circle. I doubt that he’d trust
someone new to be in the castle.”
“Well, it’s not like the inner circle has actively searched for him all these years, have they?”
Severus retorted and Lucius made an expression that somewhat translated to ‘well, I’m not a
hound, am I?’ or maybe ‘expectations exist and that’s not on me'. Severus wasn’t sure.
“But it could be.” Remus said, “If Pettigrew has gotten to him—” he began, "he has probably
told You-Know-Who about the map and how Harry would be able to notice a name that
wasn’t supposed to be in the castle.”
“There are more people in the castle this year, making it easier to blend in.” Narcissa said,
and with a sigh, added “what a great coincidence.”
Speaking of coincidences. “Who investigated the attack on Mad-Eye at the beginning of the
term?” Severus asked. “He clearly wasn’t seeing shadows then.”
“Arthur Weasley,” Remus replied. Lucius let out a string of nastiness that Severus was
impressed with. “He did his job.” Remus insisted.
“We are certain of it.” Narcissa lied, “but Arthur Weasley’s failings are not the topic.” She
said, “Peter could have been the one behind the attack on the original Mad-Eye. And since
we know he’s a better rat than he is a wizard, he must have done something wrong that got
the Aurors called.”
“Arthur talked to Alastor, whatever version of him, he told us that Alastor said the intruders
had set off the dustbins,” Remus recalled.
“He was talking to the impostor then, it would be easy for Pettigrew to escape in his rat
form,” Severus concluded.
Remus hesitated for a second, before sighing. “Sirius also believes there’s someone else
involved. Harry—He told Sirius about this dream he had over the summer, before the world
cup. He was in this house and he heard Pettigrew and You-Know-Who plotting his murder
with this other person, Harry doesn’t know who he is, he told Sirius he had never seen him
before.”
“Are we truly considering dreams now?” Lucius asked, “what are we? Fifteen-year-old
girls?”
Narcissa didn’t share her husband’s reactions to the news, her face had gotten tight as if she
was tensing her jaw. Her eyes widened only a little. “What else did he see in the dream?”
“A muggle and You-Know-Who’s snake. The muggle was killed for eavesdropping and
Harry woke when Pettigrew turned the chair around to face the muggle.” Narcissa narrowed
her eyes in thought. Severus had always thought that she looked angry every time she was
deep in thought. Remus noticed her expression as well, “What?” He asked.
“And where was the snake? In the dream?” She asked.

“What?” Remus asked again, confused. Severus could agree with the sentiment. “Why is this
relevant?”
“Because we can know whether it really was just a dream or a vision depending on where
Potter was standing in the scene. If Potter saw all these people in his dream, it meant he
wasn’t one of them, in terms of point of view. Did he actually see the snake?”
“I don’t know” Remus replied.
Narcissa made a noise of displeasure. “We could always try the unpleasant route,” she said,
“it's good that the three of us are well familiarised with muggle hospitals.” She pointed to
him and Remus, “if someone showed up cold and stiff without any other marking or sign of
death on his body, then we will know.”
If Severus could avoid stepping inside a muggle hospital ever again, he’d consider himself
lucky. Remus, unemployed as he was, offered to go.
“Did the boy say how was the Dark Lord?” Lucius asked then.
“Not exactly, but he was using Pettigrew to cast the spells for him and said that You-Know-
who knew that Pettigrew seemed revolted by his form.”
“Then trace back the events of the world cup,” Lucius murmured, he seemed to be looking
far past the dimensions of the room.
“For what?” Severus asked.
“The dark mark. Whoever cast it, had to have the mark.” Lucius explained. Severus
wondered if the man’s fear was so deep for him to be considering being this helpful. “It can’t
be someone new. If the Dark Lord needs Pettigrew to cast his spells for him, he certainly
can’t brand someone else.”
That made every one pause. It was true. Severus remembered quite vividly how painful it
was to be branded and he had spent more time than he was willing to confess trying to put
apart all the many steps of the process, so one day he could remove the disgusting thing from
his arm.
Narcissa sounded proud when she spoke, “We are forgetting someone then.”
“Who’s out and who’s in Azkaban?” Remus asked and Severus watched in horror as the man
took a seat on the chair, Narcissa sighed and did the same, pulling the other chair closer, but
not before casting a doubling chair on it. With a sigh, Lucius sat down and Severus followed
right after. He summoned a piece of parchment and his quill from his desk.
“McNair, Avery, Crabbe, Goyle, Nott, the Carrow twins, Yaxley and Selwyn,” Lucius named
them easily. He caught Remus’ raised eyebrow, “what? I have to keep them in my sight.”
Severus did a spell that made the names he had written on his parchment appear hanging in
front of them.
“McNair is currently employed by the ministry, how did that happen however is beyond me,”
Narcissa said, crossing the first name with her wand. “Crabbe paid us a visit just two days
ago and Nott, well, we all know with what Nott Sr. is busy with.” She crossed off the names
as she reasoned.
“Goyle wouldn’t know subtlety if it slapped him on the face,” Lucius added, crossing another
name. “Avery is too old for this, he’s slow and wouldn’t be able to hold cover for long.”
“I remember the Carrows,” Remus said, “Alecto had a mean streak and she was never away
from hexing someone.”
“But if she’s involved then Amicus would be as well,” Lucius pondered, “those creepy twins
are never without the other. And besides, Potter saw a man, not a woman. Amicus is the force
of the two, Alecto does all the thinking.”
“So it leaves us Yaxley and Selwyn?” Severus asked.
“I can try to arrange a meeting with them, see if they show up or make excuses.” Lucius
offered and now it was him that Severus suspected of being polyjuiced.
“And why are you being this helpful?” Remus asked
Lucius scoffed, “I’ve housed Hermione countless times, there’s a picture in the Prophet with
my hand on her shoulder. How much did the rat know? How much has he told the Dark
Lord? The Dark Lord hasn’t contacted me yet. Is it because he thinks I’ve abandoned him? Is
it because he doesn’t see me as a member of his inner circle anymore? Or is he just taking
pleasure in making me sweat? There’s nothing that I abhor more than being in the dark of
things. If I don’t know what’s happening, I can’t cheat. I can’t guarantee my family’s safety.”
Remus chuckled, “and here I thought you had had a change of heart.”
“Please wolf, it’s too early for that and besides, the chaos in the ministry? Fudge has never
been more disgraced than he’s now. And now we find that Mad-Eye is Salazar knows where?
Probably dead by now—”
“No. He needs the hair and the memories. Whoever that is, is keeping the real Moody close.”
Severus cut off.
Lucius shrugged, “Whatever. It doesn’t look good for you either way.”
“It's getting late,” he said. Tired of them. He needed to think in silence, he needed to study
imposter-Moody’s mannerisms and comments. No performance was perfect. “See to Yaxley
and Selwyn. Maybe others as well. I will pay attention to Mad-Eye.”
“I will ask Arthur and the other Aurors that were at the world cup.” Remus offered, “to see
what we can find."
Narcissa nodded and both she and Lucius quickly got up and went to the Floo. Neither
bothered to say goodnight.
Remus hesitated. He was considering his next words, Severus knew that. He had witnessed
the former Prefect ponder whether tell the Headmaster or not about his friends’ pranks many
times. “The map will tell you.” Remus said in the end, “you won’t get it from Harry, but you
might get it from Hermione.”
“What? Do you want me to ask my daughter to steal her brother’s map to take a look?”
Remus rolled his eyes, “I'm sure you can find a better wording for that, but yeah, that’s what
I’m saying.”
“Go home, your mutt is probably running after his tail by now.” He said and Remus snorted.
“Good night Severus,” he said right before stepping into the Floo.
Chapter End Notes
One last thing before you go!!

I've received a few comments from people telling me to not abandon this work and I can
easily say that I have no plans of abandoning this, I have roughly everything on where I
want to take this story and I will see it through, I just ask you to be a little patient with
me because who would have guessed, a Master degree in Cognitive Neuroscience is
actually a LOT OF WORK.
Please let me know what you think in the comments! If you want, you can find me on
Twitter (@moonyhoax) or Instagram (@camilajvnskt)
The title of the chapter and the quotes at the beginning belong to Ash and Amber by
Augustana.
Characters are not mine, they belong to the original author of the books
there is a missing piece I'm trying to find
Chapter Notes
Hello!! Thank you all for waiting patiently!! I was supposed to post this one last Friday
because as I was flying home I had a killing 10h layover in Warsaw and I got almost
everything for this chapter there, but alas when I got home on Friday morning I was
dead and slept for a hundred hours and it completely slipped my mind.
but I'm home now and almost done with my exams, I have only two left that I'm going
to do it online (+5h timezone who cares) next week!!!
Anyway, I hope you enjoy this one!!
What's the mystery

Give it up let go
Somewhere in between
Reeling, reeling
You've got what I need
Give it up let go
Chapter Thirty-Three
“Hermione, I need to talk to you.” She heard behind her and turned around to see Harry,
green eyes wide behind his glasses and hair wider than usual.
It was the first time he had walked up to the Slytherin table. Such audacity hadn't gone
unnoticed by her housemates, who were all currently glaring at him.
“My mum makes hair products Potter, do you need some?” Blaise offered sarcastically.
“Yeah, sure. Tell her to send to the Gryffindor's fourth-year boy’s dormitory, the third bed.”
Harry replied, equally sarcastic. “Hermione, it’s urgent.”
“It's always urgent with you,” Theo murmured next to her.
Harry was being weird. Weirder. She nodded, “yeah, all right.”
They left the Great Hall in hushed steps, she could feel her friends’ eyes on her back.
“Where's Weasley?” She asked.
“I told him to stay behind. I didn’t care for another roll between the two of you.” He told her
and then blushed, “I might not trust him with what I have to tell you.” He finished.
That got Hermione curious. She was never the first to hear Harry’s findings. Weasley always
got there first. For Harry to find something and not run with the boy first - while looking like
that - it had to be something important.
“Is it another dream?” She asked.
“No,” he replied. “But wait, let’s go somewhere no one can hear us. I don’t trust the corridors
anymore.”
Hermione nodded. She didn’t either. They climbed up the stairs up to the fifth floor,
Hermione following behind as they passed one door after the other and then stopped at the
fourth door on the left of the statue of Boris the Bewildered. “Are we—?” She began, only to
stop short as Harry said the password.
He smirked, “I hoped it hadn’t changed yet.” He said and entered the room. Hermione was
wide-eyed at the sheer size of the bathroom. She had been there only once at the beginning of
the term, but she wasn't quite aware of the happenings at the time, not with being covered in
blood.
“We are not supposed to be here.”
Harry was bolting the door behind them. “I checked on the map, there’s no one here. And I
just locked it from the inside.” He also turned on a few of the faucets, muffing the sound.
That was slightly paranoid.
“What is it, Harry?”
“Something happened yesterday.” He began, “I mean, a lot of somethings.” He said and then
proceeded to tell her everything about what happened the previous night. The message on the
egg, the mermaids, Myrtle, Peeves and the conversation between Moody and Professor
Snape.
“—Snape told Filch that someone has been stealing from his office and he didn’t seem to
want Moody to know and Hermione, the only reason I was there at all was because I saw
someone in Snape’s office with the map.”
“Who?”
“Barty Crouch.” He replied and Hermione’s brows furrowed.
“But isn’t he supposed to be too ill to work?” She asked, quoting Percy Weasley. “What is he
doing sneaking in the castle on a weekday at one in the morning?”
“Exactly!” He said, “And the thing is, I didn’t see Moody anywhere on the map and he came
from the same direction as Snape did. But anyway, that wasn’t the worst of it. Moody said
some things to Snape—Well, Snape hates every Defence teacher, but he does seem to hate
Moody with a passion. Apparently, Moody has been randomly inspecting Snape’s office and
he also flinched really bad when Moody said something about things you can never scrub off,
that can might get clearer but always darken again.”
“What?” She asked, but a part of her found it very ominous.
“I don’t know. But he also told Snape to go back to bed before he started crying and Snape
went!” Harry seemed incapable of believing that someone had ordered their Potions Professor
around.
“You said it wasn’t the worst, what else?” She asked,
“You really won’t believe Hermione, but after I got back, I checked the map once more to see
if they had gone back to their offices and guess whom I saw in Snape’s office?” Hermione
shook her head, “Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy and Remus!”
“Remus?” Hermione asked, her own eyes now matching Harry’s wide ones.
“Yes! And it didn’t look like a quick thing, they stayed unmoving in his office for over an
hour. Whatever were they doing, they were talking.”
“Why would Remus talk to them?”
“That's what I was thinking! It kept me up almost the entire night. What if Remus turned to
their side?”
“Harry!” Hermione snapped, “do you even listen to the things you say? Remus turning?
That’s impossible!”
“Well, yeah, but then what—”
“And not to mention that you are technically implying that Professor Snape is also on the
other side.” She added, "how many times are we going over this? Professor Snape has saved
your life.”
“Yeah, okay, but Lucius Malfoy?”
Hermione sighed. That. “He's complicated.” She said, “He’s a Voldemort supporter, don’t get
me wrong. That’s why I left, but—” she stopped, quickly deciding on what to say, “He’s
making provisions. Whatever’s about to happen on their side, Lucius is not trusting it.” She
told him. “Narcissa is a completely different story. She thought me Occlumency to hide from
Voldemort. She’s not with him, but I think she’s going to stand by her husband until the end.”
“That's what Slytherins do,” Harry commented, giving her a knowing look. Hermione
nodded, that’s what Slytherins do.
“Harry, they must know something. Narcissa and Remus, that’s not a weird combination. I
saw them during the summer. She mostly talked with Sirius, but there was a familiarity
between her and Remus, I just don’t know what it is.” She concluded.
Harry nodded. “Whatever happened between Snape and Moody made Snape call them.”
Harry said, “that's the only conclusion that I got last night thinking about it.”
Hermione agreed. She leaned her head to the side, “Did you see Moody on the map
yesterday?”
“I don’t think he was in the castle. I only saw Barty Crouch roaming around.”
“And now?” Hermione asked, “do you have the map with you?”
Harry nodded and removed it from his school bag, “I solemnly swear that I’m up to no
good.” He said and together they watched every corner of the castle and people inside it
appear on the parchment.
“There!” Hermione said, pointing at Barty Crouch’s label. He was in Dumbledore’s office
with the Headmaster.
“Again,” Harry said. “Do you think the Ministry knows that he’s here?”
Hermione didn’t answer, she was scanning the rest of the map. She had seen the Defence
professor on the high table that morning before leaving with Harry, but now he wasn’t
anywhere to be found. And the Slytherins were supposed to have a class with him in fifteen
minutes.
“Harry,” Hermione said. “Can I have the map?” She asked. “I think—” she hesitated, it
seemed crazy, but she could easily check. “The map showed Pettigrew last year, I don’t think
that Moody being invisible to the map is a fluke. I have a class with him in fifteen minutes.”
She told him, “I can easily check if he shows up or not.” or if Mr Crouch showed up in his
place
Harry had seen Crouch at Snape’s office.
Snape had said someone had been stealing from his cupboards. Had been stealing as in
current, not was stolen as a one-time event.
Moody wasn’t on the map last night, but Crouch was. And according to Harry, Moody had
come from the same direction as Snape. Hermione had been to the Defence office countless
times in the previous year, she was quite aware that they were on opposite sides of the castle.
Hermione just needed to test her hypothesis first.
“Yeah, of course,” Harry replied and Hermione blinked, snapping out of her line of thought.
“Thank you,” she replied, “I will give it back to you later today.”
He smiled at her, “it's yours as much as it’s mine.” He replied, “the cloak too, you know.” He
said.
For someone who had never had any personal belongings, Hermione was impressed with
how good he was at sharing.
Hermione smiled back at him, maybe Harry was just too kind.
…
“Sit in front of me,” she hissed at Theo when they were entering the classroom.
Theo didn’t question, just raised a curious eyebrow at her. He knew how to wait for his
answers.
Hermione had opened the map outside of the class and folded it in a way that the Defence
classroom was in the middle of it. She hid it among her books. Draco sat down next to her
and eyed her odd behaviour. “Do I want to know?” He asked.
“You will later,” she replied as she waited. Moody liked to make an entrance, always
choosing to enter the classroom when they were all sat. It was obvious that he checked with
that creepy eye of him to open the door right on time.
Hermione would take advantage of the theatrics now. She put all of her books and parchment
on top of her desk and one by one, placed them inside her school bag, her hands shook a bit
when she heard the door opening and the clunk of his cane just as the last book on top of the
map went to her bag.
There it was. Barty Crouch
“Mischief Managed,” she muttered as she slipped the map inside her bag with the last book.
Draco had been looking and he looked impressed. He leaned in to whisper in her ear, “hot.”
Hermione felt her ears burning and her lips curling up in embarrassment.
“Mr Malfoy!” Moody barked and the pair jumped, right with the rest of the class. Draco
didn’t seem bothered, Hermione realised that it had been his intention all along. Moody’s eye
saw everything and he seemed to keep it at her all the time. “I'm sure this social experiment
has been entertaining for you, but I’d like it if you could keep it outside my classroom.”
Social experiment
Moody had called her a social experiment.
She hadn’t been the only one offended by it. As the offence didn’t escape her friends.
Hermione moved her left knee to the side, touching Draco’s and she slid her right foot
forward, trying to get at Theo’s calf, in a silent please to both boys.
But Hermione didn’t have a third leg and Blaise remained unmanaged. With dread, she
watched as he began shuffling between pages quite loudly, “I’m confused, Professor.” He
said, his voice controlled in false confusion. “I can’t seem to find anywhere in our book the
lesson on bigotry,”
Hermione inhaled. Moody glared at the boy, “Five points from Slytherin for insolence!” He
barked.
As always, it was a terrible class.
And as always, they waited until they were very far from the classroom to open their mouths.
“What is it?” Theo asked.
She looked at her friends, the boys and the girls were all looking at her, waiting.
“I don’t know yet.” She lied, Hermione couldn’t risk putting them in danger. Hermione had
no idea why Barty Crouch was pretending to be Alastor Moody and instead of doing his job
was teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts and stealing from the Potions’ cupboard in the
middle of the night. “I have to go to the library first, do you think Binns will notice if I skip
his class?”
Theo’s eyes widened, “you are considering skipping class.” He repeated, awe in his voice.
“Harry told me something and I—” she hesitated, “there’s something very wrong.” She told
them. “Let’s meet at the boys’ room after dinner, I will tell you then.”
No one mentioned Moody’s comment on her and Hermione didn’t feel like it was needed,
looking at all of them around her, she knew it was baseless.
They nodded and turned to go to Professor Binn’s class. Hermione held on to Draco’s sleeve,
keeping him there, “I need you to go with me.”
Draco picked up her bag and slung it over his shoulder, she watched the movement without
saying a thing. They walked down the stairs to the library. “You are being very weird, I hope
you know that.” He told her.
“I know. But don’t worry, you will be just as weird when I tell you what I think it’s going
on.”
He snorted, “can't wait.” He replied and turned in the direction of Hermione's usual table by
the window.
“No,” she said, “no windows. I don’t want to—”
“You are also being paranoid.”
“It's not paranoia if all of my conversations somehow get to the front page of the Prophet.”
She retorted and they made their way between the huge tomes of the Magical History section.
Draco sneezed and Hermione wasn’t sure if it had been a true sneeze or if he was being
dramatic. This part of the library was usually deserted. Binn’s class was bad enough, no
students subjected themselves to spontaneous reading on the topic.
They sat down and Hermione pulled two pieces of parchment from her bag, handing one to
Draco, so both of them could take notes. “What are we doing?” He asked.
Hermione pulled her chair very close to his and leaned down to keep her voice low, Draco
mirrored her movement and got a glare from her when he rested a hand on her knee.
“Behave,” she warned. Kissing Draco had unlocked a very touchy-Draco Malfoy and
Hermione was not used to feeling his warm palm on her knees, her waist or her lower back.
“I’m nothing but good behaviour.”
“In your dreams, you mean.”
He smirked, “I'm afraid there I’m only bad behaviour.” Hermione felt her entire body burning
at the comment. But she wasn’t alone in that, despite all of his bravado, he always ended up
embarrassed after his more straightforward comments.
“I should have asked for Theo,” Hermione muttered and Draco chuckled but kept quiet. She
cast a non-cheating charm on the parchment, making it unreadable for anyone but the two of
them. She felt him tensing next to her and he seemed to realise that whatever she was about
to tell him, was serious.
“Okay,” he said, suddenly serious. “What do you need me for?”
“What do you know about him?” She asked, writing the name Barty Crouch on top of the
parchment.
“Him? Again?”
Hermione nodded. “He's pretending to be him.” She explained, writing Moody's name on the
parchment.
“What?”
“Exactly. Today in class, I checked it. This person,” she pointed at Crouch’s name, “was the
one teaching us.”
“How do you know?”
Hermione removed the map from her school bag, “I solemnly swear I’m up to no good.” She
muttered and watched Draco as he watched the map come alive.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” He asked, “this—this is—The entire castle?” He asked, his
eyes bugging as he saw it expanding and the names appearing, “everyone?”
Hermione nodded. “This map shows everyone in the castle all the time.” She explained,
“that's how we discovered that Pettigrew was alive. Harry saw his name on the map. It
doesn’t lie.”
“He has the cloak and this?” Draco asked, “it's not a surprise how he keeps getting out of
trouble.”
“I wish it could keep him safe,” she replied, “but yeah, it’s helpful. And this is what he saw
yesterday and I saw today.” She pointed to Barty Crouch’s name. He was in the Defence
classroom, teaching Ravenclaw’s third year if Luna Lovegood’s name was an indication.
“Why?”
“That's the question.” She replied, “but there’s something else Draco,” Hermione quickly
wrote the names of the people Harry had seen in Professor Snape’s office last night. “What
do these people have in common and why would they be together at one in the morning?”
“These two?” Draco asked pointing to his father’s name and Remus’, he huffed, “The only
thing they have in common is that one keeps trying to pass the Anti-Werewolf bill every year
and the other is one.”
“According to Harry, they were in Professor Snape’s office for over an hour, after he,” she
pointed to Crouch, “said something that got Professor Snape wincing and cradling his left
arm.”
“No.” Draco shook his head, “there's no way.” He said, “There's no way he’s one.”
“What? Who?”
Draco picked up the quill and drew a snake and a skull on it, Hermione noticed that it
resembled the mark that she saw in the sky that night. He looked around, suddenly feeling as
paranoid as she was. Draco lowered his voice and Hermione had no choice but to inch closer
to him. “This is His mark, Hermione. His followers have it branded on their left arm. I’ve
seen his.” He pointed to his father’s name. “During the summer, after you left, I heard him
talk with mother, it’s burning again, it’s clearer.”
Hermione remembered how Harry'd described the pain on his scar after his dreams and how
it felt when Harry had been near Voldemort with Quirrell and in the Chamber. Burning.
“I was never certain about Professor Snape—” he hesitated, watching Hermione’s reaction.
“Are you saying that—” She stopped, all the times she had jumped to defend their professor
from Harry’s accusations and he—The thing Harry had overheard between Karkaroff and
Professor Snape! He had been talking about the mark!
'Karkaroff said something about getting clearer and clearer'. Harry had said.
Karkaroff had the mark, as Sirius had told them, he bought his way out by putting other
people in. And because he knew Professor Snape also had it, he had gone to check it with the
man.
'Something Snape was pretending it wasn’t happening. What did it mean then? That Professor
Snape was ignoring the burning mark?
“Yes and no.” He said and reached for her wrist upon seeing her expression. “Hermione,
there are things that I don’t understand.” There was an urgency in his tone, "Conversations
that I wasn’t privy to, but there’s one thing that I’ve known since I was old enough to
understand how the world we live in is divided: my father and Uncle Severus have always
disagreed on fundamental beliefs.” He told her, “you remember the book, right? Uncle didn’t
want it, my father did. They fought that entire summer.” Hermione nodded, she remembered
Draco telling her that. “But the thing is, they didn’t use to. Disagree that is. That’s what my
father always throws at Uncle’s face when they argue.”
“So, what changed?” She asked. Because Hermione also remembered things. The Potions
Master always had some sort of disguised advice, little comments telling her to be alert, to
pay attention. If he was a Death Eater why would he try so hard to protect her and Harry?
“I don’t know. But this,” he pointed to the group, “proves what I’ve been telling Theo. Since
the night at the world cup, my father’s tone has changed. Maybe Mother’s pleas finally got
into his head, maybe it’s something else, but he’s been quieter.”
The provisions. Hermione remembered all the many documents he was signing away.
“So who did you mean? There’s no way he’s one?”
“Him.” He said, pointing to Crouch’s name. “The flinch, as you said, that’s the mark reacting.
Father once told me it connects them, they can always know when there’s another close. He’s
not one.” He pointed again to Crouch’s name, "Merlin knows how many times Father tried to
buy him off. Father said he’s unbendable.”
“Then why is he polyjuiced? What does he want in the castle?”
“That's the question isn’t it?” Draco asked, “Does Uncle Severus know who’s pretending to
be Moody?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so. He knew someone had been stealing ingredients from him,
when I did that, he knew what I was brewing because he knew what the ingredients I took
were used for, so I’m certain he knew there was someone brewing polyjuice before finding
out it was Moody. If he has now.”
“The mark burning would have tipped him off. Alastor Moody didn’t fill Azkaban just to get
the same tattoo later, he knows is someone else.”
“And Moody had been attacked, remember?” Hermione pointed out, “when the Prophet said
it was just another instance of him seeing shadows.”
Draco nodded and wrote attacked down. “Did Crouch do it then?” He asked, “He works for
the ministry, he’d know who’d be dispatched and how long it’d take for them to arrive,
especially with Moody getting false calls every other day.”
“Ok, but what about his motivations? What does he get from being here in Hogwarts that he
can’t get from his high position in the Ministry?”
Draco pondered and drew a line between Crouch and Moody. Hermione watched in
fascination as he quickly scribbled a few things under Moody’s name: attacked, filled
Azkaban, Dumbledore’s trust, feared by the others. Under Crouch’s name, there was just one:
Fudge’s cracking.
“What is this?”
“The Minister.” He replied, “his popularity is rapidly dropping. Mother caused quite a stir by
attacking him with Sirius’ prison. People have been questioning what else he hasn’t looked
properly.”
“The ministry officer that disappeared,” Hermione said and wrote her name under Crouch.
“But that doesn’t connect with Hogwarts. Why is he pretending to be Moody?”
“To be close to Dumbledore?” Hermione asked, “With the tournament, he’d be here anyway,
like Mr Bagman, so he didn’t need an excuse to enter the castle. He needed an excuse to be
here for an extended period.”
“Supervision or maintenance?” Draco asked and wrote the question down. Somewhere
around them, the bell rang indicating the end of their second class.
“Like he’s either watching something or doing something?”
“Or someone.”
Hermione leaned back to think. Harry told her that Crouch had accused Harry of casting the
Dark Mark that day on the final. Winky had been found with Harry’s hand. He had fired
Winky. How did she get his wand? Did she steal it? When?
“Draco!” She hissed and wrote down Winky’s name under Crouch. She told him what she
knew and added, “He never showed up for the game, remember? The elf remained there
alone. Winky is still miserable to have been fired from Crouch’s service. If she stole the
wand, she didn’t do it on her own, she was following orders.”
“Elves don’t need wands to cast spells anyway.” Draco retorted, “their magic is different
from ours. Which means,” he stopped and positioned the quill on top of the parchment, “she
stole it for someone else.” He wrote that down.
“Spells can be tracked,” Hermione said, “I read that the Ministry Officers have their wands
checked regularly, if Crouch had cast the Dark Mark, he knew they would be able to find the
spell. He needed another wand.”
Draco nodded. “The Death Eaters and the Mark in the sky caused panic. Crouch knew the
Triwizard Tournament would take place in Hogwarts and it would get Dumbledore to
reinforce security in the castle.”
“Hence his choice of a famous former Auror for the position of Defence teacher.” She added,
“We go through a new one every year.”
"That's a stretch.” He pointed out, “but it’s what we have.”
“I agree. That’s a lot of work and for what? Brewing polyjuice is hard, each batch takes at
least a month and there’s the part of adding a piece of the person you are turning into. Not to
mention that the effects only last an hour—”
“Wait,” He said. “No, there’s something wrong.”

“What?”
“Crouch has been in the castle, remember?” He asked, “We've seen Crouch and Moody in the
same place.” He reminded her and Hermione sighed in defeat.
“How?” She whispered. Things were falling into place but now she felt like they had gone
back straight to the beginning, with more questions than answers. “It's him under polyjuice, I
saw it. You saw it.”
“I know.” He said and leaned back. “I've run out of ideas.”
Hermione looked at the names and everything they had jotted down on the parchment. She
still had no idea what Remus had been doing there yesterday. “We are definitely missing
something.” She said with a sigh. “We need to do some research.”
“On what? I don’t think we have books on Mr Crouch in the library, Hermione.”
Her eyes widened. “No, but we have newspapers.” She said and got up, pulling Draco with
her. He was smart to grab their parchments with him. The Magical History section had the
archives, which was literally the least visited part of the library. It was piles and piles of old
newspapers and because they didn’t have covers, like the books, going through them was a
nightmare, no student ever resorted to them for research.
Draco looked like it was the first time he had stepped foot in that corner and Hermione was
certain it was true. “This is hell.” He said, “literally hell. We are already missing lunch, we
will miss the rest of the day and probably dinner as well.”
“Don’t be dramatic,” Hermione rolled her eyes. “Madam Piece taught me a spell. How do
you think she organises the library after students leave dozens of books behind?” She asked,
offering a smile.
“I have no idea, library magic is not something that particularly interests me.”
“Shame,” she replied and turned to the first shelf. “Any mention of Barty Crouch, cross
reference Alastor Moody.” She said and grinned when a few clippings came out of the
shelves and hovered in the air.
“Absolutely brilliant Hermione.” He said and pecked her on the cheek before walking up to
the clippings and grabbing all of them. He turned and stopped in front of her. “This is a nice
place, you know.” He said, his smile dripping on his tone.
“For what?” She asked, but she knew because he had taken a step closer.
“For this.” He said and closed the distance between them, pecking her lips and then smiling
softly at her.
“We are in the middle of an investigation, Draco Malfoy,” she joked, but since she,
differently from him, had her hands free, she used them to step closer and wrap both arms
around his neck. She loved the way she had to go on her tiptoes for that. “This is hardly the
time,” she spoke to his lips.
“Or the place.” They heard from behind them and both jumped. Hermione turned around to
find Madam Pince glaring at them. “Of all the people to misuse the library, I didn’t expect it
to come from you, Miss Granger.”
“Sorry,” she mumbled, “we are working on our homework—we got distracted.”
Madam Pince was still glaring. “What are you doing here?” She asked and Hermione saw her
looking at the papers in Draco’s hand. The one in the front had half of its title on display.
“We are learning about the trials and tribulations of the Wizengamot during the Second
Wizarding War for History of Magic.” She quickly invented. They were actually finishing the
goblin wars, but she figured it was the same topic in a way. “We need to write an essay on the
Council of Magical Law.”
“Very good,” she said with a crispy nod. “Off you go, keep your hands on the books, Miss
Granger.”
“Yes, Madam Pince.”
Draco was grinning from ear to ear when they got back to their table and she completely
ignored the proud expression on his face. She didn’t need him to be boldened by this type of
behaviour.
They went back to research and silently flicked through the pages. As Sirius had mentioned,
there weren’t many trials back them. Every Dark Wizard - or so they thought - that was
caught was quickly thrown into Azkaban, in a show of service and efficiency. There was
much more news on arrests than trials.
“Shit,” Draco muttered and turned the paper towards her. “Look at that.”
In bold letters on the front page of a November issue of The Daily Prophet from 1981,
FATHER SENTENCES SON TO A LIFE IN AZKABAN. Hermione quickly ran through the
article. She gasped and felt tears pooling in her eyes. They had no idea. She glanced at Draco
and his face was ashen.
“She's my aunt Hermione,” he whispered. “That's my mother’s sister.”
For once, Hermione didn’t know what to say. She took his hand in hers and squeezed. His
aunt, along with her husband and brother-in-law, and nineteen-year-old Barty Crouch Jr
kidnapped and tortured Neville’s parents to insanity. Hermione thought that Neville lived
with his grandmother because he was an orphan like Harry, but no. His parents were still
alive, but insane, with no idea who Neville was.
Hermione leaned against him and kissed his shoulder before resting her head on it, “You’ve
walked away from that mask, Draco.” She told him.
“But I worry it will come after me,” he replied, voice still quiet.
It took them a while to go back to work, they ended up missing Charms as well that day,
because Hermione felt sick. Sick with the knowledge that these people, Death Eaters, were
capable of such heinous crimes and because they were after Harry, her bother, they’d want to
come after her as well. They didn’t care about people in their way. It didn’t matter that the
Longbottons had a one-year-old son at home, waiting for his parents to return home.
They were starving by the time they came down for dinner. Draco’s stomach had started
making all sorts of noises during the last hour and Hermione decided that they had a solid
enough argument.
Mr Crouch, as Draco had said, was unbendable. He had sent his own nineteen-year-old son to
a life in Azkaban, he had worked closely with Moody during the arrests in the war, where he
had been the leader of the Council of Magical Law. He had been constantly and consistently
trying to push new laws to remove the Old Families from having generational seats in the
Wizengamot, which kept enraging said families, pushing some of them - like Lucius Malfoy -
to bribery.
It was a guessing game from there. But maybe Crouch had had enough of trying to follow the
law to remove nepotism from the core of the wizarding world and got frustrated with the
setbacks? Maybe he decided to take it down from the inside? Maybe he didn’t like that
former death eaters like Karkaroff and Snape were given teaching positions in the biggest
schools in Europe while he had sentenced his own son to life? That was a lot of options and
Hermione was having a hard time connecting everything.
If Crouch and fake-Moody had shown up together at Hogwarts at the beginning of term, then
maybe Crouch wasn’t working alone. Maybe whomever his house-elf stole that wand for was
the same person impersonating himself while he pretended to be Moody.
Even with coming up with half a dozen theories, still, she couldn’t explain many things. Like
the reason why Crouch-Moody seemed to have it for her while trying to help Harry with the
tournament. The tournament. She gasped and tried to pass it off as the boiled potato she was
eating for dinner.
Crouch was the one behind the enchantments on the Goblet of Fire. He knew exactly what
sorts of provisions Dumbledore had made on it because he had helped. He’d known how to
go around it. Hermione knew that no student had the ability to fool it - they had a lot of failed
examples to prove it.
But why having Harry chosen as a champion was a part of the plan? She finished her dinner
with a furrow.
“You are making it snow, Granger,” Blaise commented and nudged her.
Hermione shook her head, snapping out of it. Around her, there were a few snowflakes.
Pansy was eyeing her pumpkin juice with mistrust, for a few had fallen inside.
“It's just water in the end,” Daphne said to the raven-haired girl.
“Angry water, the molecules might be bad for my skin—”

“All the greasy you are eating is bad for your skin,” Theo pointed out and Pansy huffed, but
drank the snowed in pumpkin juice. He leaned on the table and whispered to Hermione, “still
working out whatever it is that kept you from classes the entire day?”
She nodded. “I will have to pull the last card now,” Hermione replied.
Draco looked at her curiously, “And what is that?”
“I'm asking Professor Snape.”
“I have no idea what got you scheming this time, but if one can ask things from Snape, that’s
you. Just smile and blink and he’s a goner.” Daphne said with a shrug, but her tone carried a
bit of wonder like she couldn’t understand how their Potions Professor was less angry around
Hermione.
Hermione hated maybes and she knew she couldn’t get much farther with what she had, so
Snape had to be. She finished dinner and left the table to wait outside her Head of House’s
office.
“Hey,” Draco called, tugging on her sleeve. The tone in his voice was enough to have Blaise
faking a gag and Vince literally glaring at her. He caught her hand and squeezed. “Let me
know, okay?” He asked and she nodded. Draco only let go after kissing the back of her hand.
She blushed and her friends all groaned and gagged. Others openly scowled. She wouldn't
dwell on that now.
Professor Snape was still at the High Table when she left, so she didn’t rush. Afraid of being
spotted loitering around his office, she pushed the door open and let herself in and took a
seat. She would wait for him inside.
Ten minutes later, she heard the door opening behind her and stilled. She gripped her wand
tight on her hand and turned.
“How can I help you now, Miss Granger?” Professor Snape drawled. She released a sigh and
he studied her and she did the same to him, he looked worse for wear. He was clearly worried
about something.
Vaguely, Hermione wondered if he had some sort of ward that let him know when there were
people in his office. After the robbery attempts, probably.
Hermione gulped and decided to go straight to the point. She showed him the map and
watched as his eyes widened and his jaw dropped. Wasn’t he supposed to be the best
Occlumens? “You tell me what you, Aunt Cissy, Uncle Lucius and Remus were doing here
past one in the morning and I tell you who’s pretending to be Professor Moody.”
“Merlin, girl.” He muttered and waved his wand, no doubt casting a least a dozen of silencing
spells. “You will definitely send me to an early grave.” He muttered.
She couldn’t help the grin, “I wouldn’t want that Professor.”

In a bout of rare spontaneity, Professor Snape sat down on the chair next to her, forgoing his
chair on the other side of his table. He turned to the side, facing her. “Explain yourself,”
“I asked first.”
“Hermione, this is not a funny matter, this is—”
“Most likely the one behind Harry's name on the goblet.” She cut him off. “The third man.
The one who cast the Dark Mark on the sky at the world cup.” She rattled off, counting on
her fingers. Honestly? She had an entire essay with all the possibilities.
“Who is it?”
“Why were they here?”
“To discuss the same thing you are about to tell me.” He hissed.
“But why Remus?” She retorted. That was the part she couldn’t figure out. Narcissa and
Lucius made sense, they were all friends, and they were all somehow working for Voldemort
in one way or another. But not Remus. Why would Professor Snape call Remus to a late-
night meeting after an alternation with Fake Moody?
He hesitated and Hermione watched, in parts fascinated and in others terrified, the way his
face changed and his eyes cleared. The weight on his shoulders seemed to disappear and the
ever-present frown around his eyes eased. He was occluding so damn hard that Hermione
wondered if he even could see her in front of him. She knew she wasn’t getting the truth from
him.
“Remus is your godfather. The one pretending to be Moody is terribly keen on antagonising
you, I thought prudent to let the man know, as he has means to investigate further to find who
is wearing Alastor Moody’s face.” He said and Hermione didn’t believe a word of it.
Hermione was so unbelievably tired of lies. “I see that it was unnecessary.”
“Harry saw it on the map. You can imagine how uncle Lucius’ presence looked to him.” She
said and when the Professor didn’t react, she added, “he saw the name walking around your
office, that’s why Harry was there yesterday. And he hasn't realised that the person he saw in
here last night is the same person who’s currently teaching us Defence.”
“Who. Is. It.”
“Crouch.” She replied and grabbed the map from her bag. He reached for it with his left arm
and Hermione couldn’t help but look at his forearm, where the dark mark lay, getting darker
and darker each day. Was it burning now?
Snape caught her looking and his expression was one more time unreadable. For once,
Hermione didn’t push.
“I solemnly swear I’m up to no good.” She said, pointing her wand to the map. Slowly, the
castle appeared and the first emotion of the night slipped from his mask. He had his own
Death Eater mask.
There, inside the Defence office, the name Barty Crouch was like a curse. She knew what
she’d see, so she wasted no time looking at the map. Her eyes remained on her professor.
He was trying to work it out just like she had done. Why is he there? What is his plan?
“Who else knows this?”
“Draco.” She replied and grabbed the pieces of parchment they worked on together and the
Daily Prophet clippings.
“That's why you and Mr Malfoy decided to take a day off from classes today.” He
commented. It was too much to ask that he wouldn’t notice them skipping a few classes for
one day. “You took your time before coming to me.”
“I wanted to figure it out by myself because I knew there were chances of you not being
forthcoming.”
He looked at her. It was such a simple thing, but jokes aside, Hermione was aware he was
different around her, from the way he couldn’t be bothered to glance at the majority of his
students but he’d look at her.
“I know you have heard of the Death Eaters,” he said, handing the map back to her. She
nodded, of course, she knew. Hermione was becoming worryingly familiarised with its
members. “But have you heard of the Order of the Phoenix?”
“No.”
“It's Dumbledore’s group. The Light, as if to say. The ones who actively fought against The
Dark Lord fourteen years ago and who are preparing to fight again.” He told her. She wanted
to mention that he couldn’t give her an apple when she had asked for an orange and to think
that was okay. But she also wanted to hear what he had to say. After all, he was forthcoming
now. “There are some people,” he made a sound that if it came from anyone else, she’d think
as a snort, but he was Severus Snape and Hermione wasn’t certain he was capable of that
particular expression of amusement, “more people than I’m currently aware of, as it seems,
that don’t qualify to be Order members, some people who are intrinsically connected to the
other side for reasons beyond their control, people who were Order members but now feel
wronged. People who don’t feel like being forthcoming to the leaders of their organisations,
that walk the fine line between these groups by working in the shadows.”
“Or in Potion’s offices at one in the morning.” She said. Narcissa’s words and her insistence -
and force - on making Hermione learn Occlumency, Lucius’ provisions, Remus’ being made
to live in isolation and poverty while believing that Sirius was a traitor and Snape’s—
something.
He nodded.
Hermione’s head was spinning. Draco was right, his father tone had changed. Hermione
wasn’t a fool to believe that Lucius Malfoy would ever switch sides because he worked
exclusively to his own interests and would play along as he saw fit. And Remus, he—“For
someone who believes so much in the literal power of love, he seems to be ignoring the
lengths people actually go for the ones they love.” She said.
Snape’s reply was a single raised eyebrow. It was a question, she knew.
“Dumbledore lied to Remus. For years. And he abandoned Sirius.” Hermione said, “How can
he put so much faith in Lily’s love and sacrifice for Harry and ignore that he caused an
immense amount of pain to Remus in his treatment of Sirius?”
Professor Snape looked away, in the direction of something on his desk. “Albus Dumbledore
lives under the impression that he carries this weight in him that people will disregard his
wrongdoings towards them to trust him blindly.”
There. It was something. Professor Snape was giving something. She had no idea what it was
or what to do with it, but she’s been a Slytherin long enough to know how to wager in snake
currency.
“It's getting late,” he said after a few minutes when Hermione didn’t reply. “Don't share what
you know Miss Granger, not everyone can hide their thoughts, this—” he pointed to the map,
“is not something that we can afford to become public knowledge.”
She nodded and grabbed her things to put back inside her bag. “Good night, Professor.”
“Good night, Hermione.”
Chapter End Notes
I hope you enjoy it! Hermione is getting investigative and I always wondered how Harry
didn't realise earlier that was something wrong with moody and how his name was never
in the castle, but he's noticed in here, so we are going from there now.
In order to keep 4th year controlled (this book is too big god help me with 5th year), I'm
going to speed up things next chapter, as in we are jumping to the second task BUT
DON'T WORRY, everything in between will still find its explanation and resolution in
the next chapter
trust the process
as always, thank you for the comments and let me know what you think!!
come rest your bones next to me
Chapter Notes
Hello!! Thank you for patiently waiting and for the lovely comments! As I mentioned in
the last chapter, I'm rushing things a bit so this fic doesn't end with too many chapters
so, but again, everything important is still going to be addressed, I'm just keeping the
focus on the plot-related things.
Be warned, this chapter is a big one.
Say, say what you mean

Tell me the truth or tell me you're through
Don't leave me to breathe
Don't leave me to bleed
For someone who chose to leave me be
Chapter Thirty Four
He lied again. Hermione had given him an opening, an opportunity to come clean for once
and he was too terrified to take it. Severus couldn’t explain Remus' involvement without
giving something of himself. And being Hermione’s father, that was a secret he carried so
close to him all these years that he had no idea how to part with it now.
Severus debated whether to tell Dumbledore about Moody, but he knew the old fool well
enough that he’d want ‘things to run their course’ instead of taking action and removing the
fake from the castle. It would be Quirrell all over again: Severus would be forced to watch
that bumbling man make attempts on the stone and do nothing. ‘Keep an eye on the boy,’
Dumbledore would say, as if Severus didn’t do that on a basis. ‘The best way to learn
someone’s plans is to watch them do it, he’d hum and Severus would flex his fingers to keep
himself from punching the old man.
He had flooed to the Malfoy’s after Hermione’s visit. Remus had missed that meeting, there
was only so much he could risk with Black back. Narcissa had delivered the conclusion with
a precision that was cutting. Severus wished he could share it with his daughter, after all, it
had been her hard work that led them there and her frustration at the many loose pieces of the
puzzle was clear.
The map didn’t lie, but it wasn’t specific enough. Narcissa had been.
Severus watched his former friend a few seats away from him on the High Table during
lunch, the man who was supposed to be dead but had used his mother’s death instead. Barty
was twisted and Severus cursed the day he decided that befriending him was a good idea. It
wasn't. Barty had been two years younger than Severus and even at eleven, Barty wasn’t one
to hold back his hexes and shy, fearful Severus had been too glad to hide behind him and
watch the other boy test his own creations. At the time, it had kept the bullies in Slytherin a
bay, which made Severus grow complacent and be enough of a fool to trust the boy with his
feelings. Barty had known about Lily and in the end, it was his taunts and provocations that
made Severus desperate and eventually pushed him to the edge.
He had been so stupid and desperate for attention and approval that he forgot he already had
the only one that mattered.
Not this time, this time he’d be the one to kill Barty Crouch Jr.
In the weeks that preceded the Second Task, Severus barely slept. He watched everything like
a hawk. More often than not, he’d use his animagus form to spy on the man, but Barty was
too good of a Moody to let a single window open for him to observe from.
Severus had to watch himself because it was most likely that Barty was reporting back to
Voldemort and Severus had to make sure that given the moment, he’d be accepted back into
the fold and could keep his position as a spy. With his daughter and his charge so close to the
line of fire, he couldn’t afford to lose his position in the inner circle.
Barty knew Severus was Hermione’s father and since he had made that particular comment
about begging, he knew that Voldemort had told him how Severus had begged their Lord to
spare them. Hermione had been right when she said that Dumbledore seemed to ignore the
lengths people actually go for the ones they love, but this was a flaw that the old man shared
with his greatest enemy. Voldemort was incapable of understanding love. It wasn’t impossible
to dissuade him in terms of Severus’ affections to Hermione, but only if he kept whatever
Barty was passing forward in check.
Maybe it was a mistake, maybe that would turn out to be Severus’ weakness, but he had
slipped a note along Hermione’s assignment and watched as she nodded to the slip of paper
as she read the words, ‘from now on, it’s all an act.’ He couldn’t be a jerk to her without
letting her know that he didn’t mean it, not when he was certain that he’d lose whatever they
had built once the entire truth came out.
Of course, things never worked as he planned and the universe seemed to take great
satisfaction in watching him squirm, because two weeks from the second task, he finally
learned what the second task would entail. Severus listened to Bagman and Dumbledore
explain what - or who - the champions would have to retrieve from the Black Lake and he
forced himself to remain silent as Moody - Barty - suggested Hermione as Harry’s bait.
“She's the obvious answer, of course,” Dumbledore said, “but I believe Mr Weasley would
make a great motivation for Harry.”
Severus held his breath. Was it possible that Dumbledore would spare Hermione this time?
“The girl for Durmstrang’s champion, then. The Krum boy,” Moody insisted and Severus
pretended not to notice how the blue eye remained on him. “They went to the ball together
and they seem to spend an awful lot of time together.”
Moody - Barty - smiled, but it was more like a smirk as if he was waiting for Severus to
crack and say what was on his mind: Absolutely not. Hermione’s not spending a second
unconscious underwater being surrounded by jealous mermaids.
Instead, he said nothing.
Flitwick, to Severus’ immense gratitude, expressed all his concerns with the idiotic plan, as
one of his students would be chosen as bait. Unfortunately, Flitwick was too small to make an
impact with his complaints.
“Hm,” Dumbledore said, running his fingers through his long beard, “It would make things a
great deal easier as well. Karkaroff had expressed before how the boy only lived with his
mother. It would be quite a hassle to move Mrs Krum to the castle on such short notice.”
“And we all know that the boy is going to sorely miss Miss Potter,” Moody said. Severus
now knew it was on purpose how he insisted to call her Miss Potter while everyone else still
called Hermione by her muggle surname. It was to poke at him. “I don’t think I’ve seen him
speak to a single student as he speaks with her. He has grown quite fond of her, even with the
girl's dalliance with the Malfoy boy.” Moody said amusedly. As if annoying both Severus and
Draco was the greatest outcome he could get.
Severus knew how Barty had proudly confessed all of his crimes in front of his father and
had screamed his loyalty to the Dark Lord to a room full of wizards. The Barty Severus knew
as a boy would have hated Lucius' coward, quick way out. It was clear now that Barty was
targeting Draco to get it back at Lucius.
That meeting had been over a week ago now, Severus had offered to brew the potions to put
the students to sleep because he wouldn’t trust anyone else to brew and administer a potion
that left his daughter unconscious and breathing underwater for hours.
Almost as if on cue, or a sick joke from the universe, his daughter had started hanging out
with the Durmstrang champion again, he was pretty sure that whatever had started between
her daughter and his godson - Salazar help him was now being kept strictly private. Only a
fool would miss the glares and the growing threats Hermione and Draco were receiving. He
kept his job of intercepting Hermione’s mail as serious as his own classes because more often
than not, someone would express their dissatisfaction with the Malfoy heir's choice of a date
in a very nasty way.
Hermione smartly enough had chosen to deal with Quidditch fans rather than blood elitists
and Dark supporters. And Draco too had his reign back under control. Severus was certain
Lucius had written a carefully worded letter to his son with strict instructions on how to keep
the older students from scowling at him.
The dangerous game the Malfoys were playing was getting to its end and it was clear that the
Slytherin house wasn’t going to allow Draco Malfoy to openly date the Missing Sister, Harry
Potter’s sister and probably responsible for Voldemort’s demise. Severus had to admit that he
was impressed with her classmates because the majority of them were unrelenting. Blaise
Zabini couldn’t care less about what the others thought of him and Theodore Nott was on a
mission to let everyone know just how much he intended to go against everything his father
stood for. Parkinson had been a surprise, if Severus were a betting man, he’d have bet that
she’d turn tail, but he had been thoroughly wrong. The Greengrass family had always been
neutral enough that he hadn’t worried about Daphne. And of course, he hadn’t been surprised
with the ones who had left.
Vincent Crabbe was being openly nasty and Severus was both downgrading his essays - not
that he had to make an effort - but also turning a blind eye to Nott’s and Zabini’s ongoing
competition. The pair was back at talking and therefore back at being joined at the hips and
both were now trying to outsmart the other in terms of hexes and pranks on the unsuspecting
boy.
Severus thought it was very good practice for auto-defence and stealth. He made sure to
award five points to Slytherin for it.
His Slytherins were entering the classroom now, and as always moved to the corner to put
their bags there where no one could knock or trip over them and disrupt brewing. He had
learned his lesson two years ago with the whole stint that his daughter and her brother pulled
to steal from his cupboard.
The Gryffindors came right after and did the same on the other side of the room. Since there
was no free will in his classroom, Severus was the one to pick their seats and quickly sorted
them into pairs. Because Severus had heard that Draco and Hermione weren’t sitting next to
one another anymore in other classes, he made sure to pair them up and watched as the pair
exchanged relieved glances and small smiles.
He confirmed then that they were still doing whatever that was. He sighed. Hermione still
had the map, but instead of using it to track the fake Moody, she was probably using it to
steal moments with the boy.
He didn’t bother with greetings, just wrote the day’s instructions on the board and set them to
work. They were going to brew an easy but long potion and he hoped to not have major
problems today because it would be mostly cutting up ingredients and measuring them. But
with this group, it was never a certainty.
Severus quickly explained the potion they’d be working on and its effects and set them to
work. He was free to observe them.
Potter, as far as Severus knew, was still unaware of Moody’s true identity or even that Moody
wasn’t Moody. He knew Barty was no Occlumens, but the man had taken a keen interest in
the boy by helping him in the tournament and Severus needed Potter to still trust Moody so
Severus could figure out why helping Potter was in the plans when he was the one to put his
name in the tournament in the first place.
Severus sighed, he had always hated Barty's twisted mind and sense of humour.
His daughter and her brother were currently in view, which relieved at least one source of
stress for the time being. Hermione had her chair closer than necessary to Draco’s and
Severus tried his hardest to ignore their corner of the room because he refused to watch the
pair flirting like the school children that they were. Which led him to watch Potter instead.
And it was then that he noticed it.
Harry Potter was clearly as blind as James Potter had been, but the boy suffered from his
poor eyesight more than James ever did. He was inching from his seat trying to read the
board and when he decided it was useless, he’d lean over Weasley and try to read the boy’s
notes. Severus was quite aware of how terrible the boy’s handwriting was and by Harry’s
expression, the boy agreed.
Severus kept watching and noticed how Potter’s mistakes were often related to the number of
stirs or portions. Severus had to admit that his five and six were pretty similar, as were his
four and nine. Maybe the boy wasn’t completely stupid in Potions, after all. Maybe Severus
would find one less student to worry about making things explode for this hour. Merlin knew
he had enough with Longbottom, Finnigan, Goyle and Crabbe.
He continued with the class and when he asked his students to put their concoctions in a
stasis spell for the next class, he also added, “Stay behind, Potter.”
Severus watched as the boy straightened and looked around at his friends. Weasley was
clearly worried, no doubt thinking his best friend was about to be poisoned. Hermione was
just curious, but the Slytherins giggled as they left the class.
“Tell Professor McGonagall that I might be late,” Potter told Weasley as the redhead left.
Severus took the dramatics to erase his board and write letters on it.
“Sir?” The boy asked.
“Read what’s on the board for me.” He told the boy and Potter furrowed his brows in
confusion. “It’s a simple instruction Potter.”
“Erm… L, P, G, T, Z, O, D, P, E and D.”
Salazar. It was worse than he thought.
The boy squinted and even so got half of them wrong. He had said G instead of C, O instead
of D, D instead of B, P instead of F and D instead of O.
Severus erased the board again and wrote new letters. “Stand a step closer to the board and
read the board for me.”
There was a shade of red in the boy’s cheeks that told Severus Harry had realised what this
was about and was embarrassed.
The boy tried again, but still got more letters wrong than right.
He erased the board again and Potter took another step forward, “sir? What is—”
Severus sighed. “I have noticed that your glasses might be wrong and not doing their job
properly.”
It was disbelief this time, that coloured the boy’s face. As if Potter couldn't believe that
someone would take note of his well-being with something so trivial. Specially Severus.
“I can read fine,” Harry argued.
“Because you learned to compensate by memorising the shapes of entire words and you play
a guessing game every time you look at the board.” Severus said, “come closer.”
Potter was by the second roll of desks and he still squinted, but he was getting the letters right
at least. Severus took note of the distance.
“Where would you need to be to read this without squinting?” He asked.
Harry shrugged and slowly walked closer, up until he was nudging Severus’ desk.
It was much worse than he thought.
“Proper glasses would allow you to read correctly without straining yourself from your seat
at the back of the class.” He told the boy and watched as he looked to his feet in hunched
shoulders.
Harry wasn’t his, Merlin knew he had a lot on his plate with just Hermione even when she
didn’t know it. But the boy was in dire need of someone to look at him and not see James
Potter or a child soldier. It couldn’t be him. Because Severus still had a hard enough time
with that. He knew that, and he also knew that things were getting dangerous as they were
with Hermione, but Severus had been a child of neglect himself, he couldn’t pretend that he
didn’t see the boy squinting and edging on his seat for a better view, he couldn't pretend that
he hadn’t caught the boy pushing the book closer to his nose to read the small letters. Not
after he noticed.
Yes, it had taken longer to notice it if it had been with his own students or if it hadn’t been a
boy that pained him to look at.
“I can adjust your glasses,” Severus said, offered. Harry’s green eyes widened.
He watched as the boy swallowed, mistrust and wariness clear on his face. Severus realised
then that he was offering something dear to the boy and he was terrified of asking. In the end,
Harry removed his glasses and handed them. The boy flinched as Severus took it, almost as if
the last person who had held them had crunched the battered thing on their palm.
Severus cast the spell, he wasn’t a med-wizard, he didn’t know how to properly evaluate
someone’s sight, but he knew how to adjust it just enough.
“Go to your seat and read the board for me. Don’t squint.” He ordered.
The boy grabbed the glasses back and it was an immediate reaction. The green eyes grew as
big as saucers and it seemed that Harry was seeing the classroom for the first time. Severus
looked away.
It shouldn’t have been him.
“It’s—” the boy started, his voice clearly rough, “it’s good. Perfect even.”
“Are you sure?” He asked, “glasses are supposed to aid you, not give you an extra headache.”
“Yes. They are.” Harry said nodding and removing them again, he seemed to hesitate.
“Erm… Can you…I mean, could you adjust the size? Please.”
Severus watched as the boy hesitantly offered his glasses back.
Severus nodded, it was a simple spell. “When did you last go to see an eye doctor?” He
asked. The condition of the glasses was too flimsy for them to be new.
“Just the once.” Harry answered, “when my primary teacher told my Aunt Petunia that I
couldn’t read the board. I think I was eight. I did the exam and got the glasses at the same
time.”
It wasn’t the first time that Severus wanted to hex Tunney, no, it had been a current want of
his growing up, but that wretched woman had outdone herself. What else had she done to the
boy? He knew how much she despised magic, how jealous of Lily she had been. Harry comes
to Hogwarts with no knowledge of magic whatsoever should have been telling.
“Your eyesight changes throughout the years. These visits should be constant. If—” he
stopped, hesitated. No, he made a promise to Lily. “You feel like they don’t work anymore,
come to me.”
Harry nodded, slowly.
“Than—thank you, professor.”
He gave a curt nod and watched the boy turn to grab his things and leave. “Potter,” he called.
Severus had given something already, he would regret the next thing later, but he knew that it
was what he would have wanted as a boy. “The school failed you in this. The staff should
have noticed it earlier. I’m not your Head of House, but that’s no excuse, it’s my job to pay
attention to the needs of all the students.”
Harry was taken aback, surprised to learn that this should have been a school matter. Severus
just hoped they weren’t too late for everything else.
“Thank you.”
“You may go. I will give you a slip to hand to Professor McGonagall.”
Once he was alone, he snorted. Barty was right, after all, he was feeling familial.
His day passed in a blur of boring classes and stupid students, only his N.E.W.T level
students offered a bit of serotonin for him, as they weren’t complete dunderheads.
Severus had another staff meeting that evening, another roll of discussions regarding the
second task that would happen in under a week. This time with Karkaroff and Madame
Maxime. The Beauxbatons’ headmistress was told to only tell Gabrielle Delacour on the
night before the event, as the girl was too young to keep a secret from her older sister for that
long. Karkaroff didn’t approve of Hermione as his precious Krum’s choice but the man was
too coward to attempt a discussion with Moody. Fake or not, the man could easily throw
Karkaroff back in Azkaban.
Since he was her Head of House, he’d be the one to explain to Hermione how everything
would happen and to bring her to the Headmaster’s office to meet with the other students.
Severus wasn’t required to, but he decided to only tell Hermione on the night before as well,
as he knew she had enough on her mind.
He just wanted this task to be done with.
“You know,” Theo started, climbing up on the stone railing between the archways in the
courtyard next to her, “they are not going to say it, but that doesn’t mean we haven’t noticed
that you didn’t tell us what you and Draco were investigating that day in the library.”
It was still pretty cold outside and the snow had yet to melt, so Hermione was pretty glad
when Theo tugged her to his side and crossed arms with her. She was dreading the task for a
few days and she wasn’t the one going to jump into the Black Lake.
“I can’t tell everyone because it’s too dangerous for all of you to know.”
“And not for you and Draco?”
She gave him a look and he gave another back, Hermione rolled her eyes. “It is dangerous.
Of course, it is, I’m actually losing sleep over it and that’s what I don’t want on the rest of
us.”
“Maybe I want to help you carry it.”
“Maybe you are too good of a best friend.”
He smiled softly at her, “Best friends are for Hufflepuffs Granger,”
“Then what are we?” She asked him and leaned further into his side.
He pondered his answer and then smirked, “We are the knights of the round table.”
Hermione snorted, “A group of muggles that vowed to protect the muggle king?” She asked,
“I'm afraid to ask who’s who.”
Theo smiled, one of his rare ones, one that Hermione had started to believe that she’d never
see again. He was getting better. He and Blaise were back at being friends, she even
suspected they had talked about their feelings but she wouldn’t push, not when both of them
had come to her last time. She’d wait again. “Blaise’s definitely Gawain.”
Hermione snorted. “Merlin, yes.” She laughed, “Pansy is definitely Leondegrance.”
Theo smirked, “We share a mind, Hermione Granger because I was thinking the same.” He
nudged her with his shoulder, “and we both judged Pansy’s knighthood with Draco as Arthur
in mind.” Hermione smiled.
“He is Arthur, it’s even in the name,” she joked. “Arthur Pendragon and Draco Malfoy.”
“Who would I be?”
“You are Lancelot.” She replied promptly. “The most loyal among all of us,” she said and
watched as the boy blushed. Had Hermione ever told him how much she loved and
appreciated him? She didn’t think so. “I love you, you know?”
He was taken aback and turned to look at her. “What's that now?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. It just occurred to me that I think I’ve never told you that.”
“I love you too.” He replied and clasped their hands together. “You are Percival.”
“Hm. I like it.” She said, “And Daph?”
He smiled again, “Bleoberis,” he said, “because she’s very loyal to me and if I’m Lancelot,
there’s no knight closer to Lancelot than him.”
“Our own round table,” she said and they both chuckled. It was good, to be silly even if it
was for a few minutes. Hermione couldn’t remember when she last had time to think about
something inconsequential. It felt nice.
The common room was so dark and every conversation carried the uncertainty they felt. They
were all only fourteen and fifteen, their grades and their crushes were the only things they
should be thinking and worrying about, not wars, Dark Lords and Death Eaters.
“I need to tell you something,” Theo said, his voice very low.
“What is it?”
“Over the Christmas break, after the Yule Ball, Blaise and I talked.” He told her and she tried
to keep off a smile. “We—” a blush, “we are sort of seeing one another.” He confessed, “we
haven’t told anyone yet, because we wanted to make sure that we could actually go through
it. I mean, if I could.” He shrugged, “I mean, I know I like guys, but knowing that and
actually kissing one and accepting everything that entails is another story. I wanted to be
comfortable enough with just us before braving the world.”
She smiled at him. “And are you now? Comfortable, I mean?”
Theo nodded. “It has been great.”
“I’m very, very happy for you.”

“I'm very, very happy for you too.” He said, “I didn’t say it earlier, but I really am.”
Her smile was a bit sad now because there was no more handholding in the castle or kisses in
the corridors. Draco had been pulled aside too many times by older students telling him that
he should worry about what being seen with Hermione meant.
'It means that I’m utterly besotted with you’ he had huffed at her when they talked about it in
their small room at the Astronomy Tower.
But both of them had agreed that they didn’t need to prove anything. That this was a fight
they could fight another time. Neither of them wanted their housemates’ pressure to ruin
what they had. And besides, it was fun, sneaking around in the castle.
“We've decided to go public,” Theo said. “Partially because I don’t bloody care who knows
and partially because I want to see who’d dare say a single thing to me or Blaise. And Merlin,
Hermione. I want to hear my father raging all the way in the Estate from the Great Hall.”
“Theo—”
“I'm not going back there.” He said. “Professor Snape and Blaise’s mum have talked about it
already. I’m flooing straight to Blaise’s house once the term ends.” She was relieved,
Hermione never wanted to relive the sight of a bruised Theo on the train. “And besides, they
will be too busy with us to worry about you and Draco,”
“No!” She said and jumped from the railing to her feet to glare at him properly, he wasn’t the
least impressed. Partially because he was taller than her still while sitting on the railing. “I
won’t have you and Blaise being subjected to their nastiness just so—”
“Hermione,” he called, amusement clear in the three syllables of her name. “We are going to
be subjected to nastiness whenever we decide to do it, we just decided to use this particular
timing.” He said and snorted, “I talked with Mr Lupin about it,” Hermione’s eyes widened in
surprise, “According to him, Slytherin and the Old Families haven’t had such a scandal since
Sirius Black was sorted into Gryffindor and then four years later publicly made out with his
boyfriend in front of the entirety of the Slytherin House.” Hermione snorted and tried to
imagine the scene. He was grinning as well and added, “They sneaked in our common room
with Potter’s cloak, climbed over the sofa and smooched.”
“Please don’t do anything that dramatic.” Hermione shuddered.
He grinned, “Do you think your brother would lend me his cloak?”
Hermione thought of her brother's penchant for trouble and his newfound amusement for
Hermione’s friends. “If he’d be allowed to witness the show, then I’m sure he’d be
amenable.”
He grinned at her something devilishly, “it's a deal then.”
Hermione pushed his face back with her palm, in an attempt to remove that smirk from his
lips. Theo was used to her tactics, so he easily avoided her hand and in retaliation, poked her
hips and she jumped. They were being silly again, poking and pulling one another, laughing
and yelping when one pulled a bit too hard.
When they finally knocked it out, she decided to rest with her back on the railing, too lazy to
climb back up. Theo moved behind her so she was standing between his legs and they stayed
like that, watching the coming and going of the students in silence.
“Moving on already?” A girl from Gryffindor called as she passed, Hermione knew the girl
was from the same year as her, but the girl’s name had slipped from her mind.
Neither Slytherin bothered with a reply. In what Hermione first thought was complete
rudeness but now had learned to appreciate as true Slytherin fashion, both she and Theo
looked at the girl and then past her. Unbothered. The girl blushed and quickened her steps.
“And to think I had thought you didn’t belong in green.”
“And I didn’t even need to pull out the bonnet.”
On Saturday, five days before the second task, Hermione joined Viktor in the library as the
boy completed his research on the Black Lake and how to breathe under water. She knew he
was going to transfigure himself because he hadn’t bothered to lie to her since he knew Harry
as a fourth-year had no idea how to do it. Hermione after curiously reading over the books
decided that it had too many risks to attempt.
On Sunday, she joined Harry and Weasley in the library to help her brother. They had found
the bubble spell, but it was again a seventh-year spell and Hermione barely managed to make
it hold for longer than five minutes, much less an hour. But it didn’t matter, because Harry
was the one going underwater and the only thing that came out of his wand was a small
bubble similar to those soap bubbles that children liked to blow.
On Monday, Pansy followed Hermione to the library and Weasley didn’t waste a breath
before asking, “What are you doing here?”
“I was told Potter was putting his head inside of a bucket of water over and over trying to
breathe inside it. It sounded entertaining so I couldn’t miss it.”
Pansy had heard no such thing, but it didn’t keep Weasley from glaring at Hermione like she
had been the one to say it.
Interesting enough, Weasley seemed to abhor more the idea of Harry humouring Hermione’s
friends than the ridiculous comments themselves, so when Harry replied, “You got here right
on time to see the first bucket dive.” Weasley scowled and left.
Harry wasn’t using any practice buckets so far, but Pansy’s idea had been taken seriously, to
Hermione’s horror. Harry called Dobby and asked for a bucket with water. When the elf
proudly complied and Harry caught Hermione’s glare. He dared to smirk and shrug, “He’s
free and gets paid for it, sis.”
Pansy was grinning when they left the library to Myrtle’s bathroom so Harry could practice
his bubble spell with actual water.
“Maybe if I threaten to force your head down the toilet you might be more inclined to work
the spell?” Pansy asked, there was no bite in her tone, but Harry flinched and Hermione
dreaded to think about what that meant.
On Tuesday, Theo followed Hermione and Pansy to the library. Weasley saw them coming
and got up to leave. “I will see you back in the dorm.”
“Ron,” Harry called, his voice carrying a tiredness that let Hermione know this had been a
long discussion. “You know that you can stay, right?”
“Nah mate, too crowded for my tastes,” Weasley replied and Hermione had to elbow Pansy to
stop mimicking the boy behind his back.
“Good thing that the task is tomorrow, otherwise the entire Slytherin House would be here
watching me fail.”
“Don't worry Potter,” Pansy said and tapped his shoulder in fake consolation, “we will be
there tomorrow watching you fail.” And then she sat down next to him.
“Cheering for you,” Theo added with a smile.
“Is having a morbid sense of humour a requirement for the hat?” Harry asked Theo.
Theo nodded and sat down in front of Harry, leaving Hermione to sit next to Theo and
diagonally to Harry. Honestly. “Since we never know whether we will survive the day.”
Hermione swatted at him. “That's too morbid Theo.”
“Sorry,” he said, clearly not sorry, “I'm not here to help though. I’m orchestrating a plan to
traumatise my father and housemates and I know you have a cloak that would come in handy
for that.”
Harry raised a single eyebrow in Hermione’s direction and then snorted. “I'm surprised that
you are asking.”
“Stealing was just number three on the list.”
“What's number two?” Harry asked.
“Bribing, of course,” Pansy replied. As it was an official rule in the Slytherin Handbook of
Negotiations. Maybe it was.
“Of course,” Harry repeated.
“You can come and watch if you want. I’m just going to kiss Blaise in front of everyone. If
you are not a shithead about those things then you can come.” Theo said and Hermione shook
her head. There was some potential, she could see that, in a friendship between Theo and
Pansy and Harry. The potential to be extremely chaotic.
“I have no problem with that.” Harry replied, “My—” He stopped, probably remembering
that outing his godfather to strangers wasn’t the greatest of the ideas.
Theo grinned, “I know. He gave me the idea.”
Pansy grew tall on her chair, as always, she hated to be on the out of a gossip.
Harry grinned back. “Really? You can have the cloak then, but I want to witness it!”
“Survive tomorrow Potter, and you are in,” Theo said and offered his hand for Harry to
shake. Harry took it and Hermione decided that this was a terrible idea. “Merlin,
Longbottom, get out of there!” Theo called and they all turned to see where Theo was
looking.
Neville was frozen between two bookshelves, hugging a heavy tome to his chest. “I—Erm,
maybe I—”
“Come here Neville,” Harry said and waved him forward. The boy blushed as he tripped in
front of the pair of intimidating Slytherins. “They don’t bite.”
“Not too hard,” Pansy replied. Neville stopped next to Harry, watching Pansy warily as if he
was actually afraid of her.
“What is it?” Harry asked and Neville showed him the book.
“I heard you guys talking about breathing underwater yesterday and—” he blushed again
when he noticed that Theo was paying attention to him. Theo gave a smile showing all of his
teeth that looked definitely shark-like. Neville looked back at Harry, “There's this plant in this
book that can allow a wizard or witch to breathe underwater when ingesting it.” He said and
opened the book to show it to him.
The three Slytherins leaned in on the table to better see the pictures. “Sick!” Pansy said,
pointing to the figure of a man with gills on his throat.
“That looks disgusting,” Theo said. The Gillyweed also gave the consumer webbed feet and
hands.
“How long does it last?” Hermione asked.
“An hour, give or take,” Neville replied.
“I guess I will have to be fast then.” Harry said, “Do you have it, Nev?”
The boy shook his head, “No, but there are some in the Greenhouse Five. I saw it.”
“We are not supposed to enter the Greenhouse Five. It’s N.E.W.T level students only.” Pansy
said, crossing her arms under her chest. She still had to remove the spell on her boobs and
both Harry and Neville looked at the movement. Neville blushed.
“I—Erm—Professor Sprout allows me to go there—I help her sometimes after class because
I like plants.” He blushed again at the end.
“Do you get extra points for it?”
“Sometimes, when I get things right.”
“Hm.” The girl said.
“That can wait, Pansy,” Theo said. “Can you get it? The task is tomorrow, Longbottom.”
Neville shook his head again. “She won’t give it to us, Cedric is on her house, it will look
like she’s helping a Hogwarts champion.”
“So we go to number three,” Harry said.
“Harry…”
“What? That’s the best thing we have and the task is in—” he checked his watch, “in fourteen
hours.”
Hermione sighed. Instead of practising the bubble spell, the five of them devised a plan to
sneak into the Greenhouse Five and steal Gillyweed.
They had finished dividing tasks when they heard the clunk, clunk, clunk of Moody’s cane.
“Delere!” Hermione quickly cast on the parchment and everything they had scribbled down
disappeared from view right as the man turned the corner they were in.
Theo was immediately glaring and Pansy had her worst expression on her face. Moody was
silent upon the sight, clearly not expecting that assortment of Gryffindors and Slytherins. His
blue eye was crazily going back and forth while the normal one stuck to her.
“Miss Potter, the Headmaster wants to see you in his office now.” He told her and Hermione
froze. What did he want with her? She was going to walk to the Headmaster’s office with
fake Moody, wasn’t she?
“I will go with you,” Pansy said at once.
“No one called for you Miss Parkinson. I will accompany Miss Potter. Don’t you worry,
now.” Pansy’s expression revealed that it was thatclunk, clunk of his cane. She had her
Occlumency shields and strengthened them when the gargoyle moved to allow them entry.
She was surprised to see that she wasn’t the only one there. Mr Bagman, Percy Weasley,
Madame Maxime and Karkaroff were present, as well as Professor McGonagall, Professor
Snape and Professor Flitwick. Fleur Delacour's little sister was next to the Beauxbatons
headmistress, while Weasley was in front of Professor McGonagall and Cho Chang next to
Professor Flitwick. Hermione didn’t think twice before rushing to Professor Snape’s side.
Hermione could swear she heard a relieved sigh coming out of the man.
Dumbledore smiled at the room at large. “Now that we are all together, I can explain why I
asked the professors to call each of you.” He told Hermione and the other students, as they
seemed to be the only ones confused. “As I’m certain that you all know, tomorrow morning
we are going to have the second task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament and the four of you will
be part of the task.
Weasley stood tall at that, while Hermione shared a worried look with Cho.
“The champions are going to the Black Lake tomorrow to look for something that they’d
sorely miss and the four of you are what our champions would most dread to be apart from,”
Dumbledore explained. “Professor Snape prepared a potion himself that makes you
unconscious and able to breathe underwater, as well as keep you warm, so you won’t feel
anything while submerged.”
“Do we have any choice?” Cho asked, clearly not eager to jump into the water.
Dumbledore smiled, “of course you do.” He said, in a tone that didn’t leave much choice.
That’s how it always went with him, Hermione knew, that he never bothered to ask or if he
did, it was in a way that it made them look wrong by denying it. The task was in a few hours,
they didn’t have time to find someone else to replace one of them.
Professor Snape moved behind her to go grab the potions that sat in a tray. “It doesn’t taste
pleasant and you will feel drowsy after drinking it, like when drinking a sleeping potion.” He
explained, “it will also keep your body warm and working normally underwater. Its effects
will stop upon breaking the surface.” He gave one glass to each one of them.
Professor McGonagall instructed them to seat down, so they wouldn’t fall to the ground after
passing out.
“Those look nasty,” Moody commented upon seeing them. “Let’s call for some food to help it
go down.” He said and both Weasley and Cho nodded at the idea. Hermione felt like not even
her favourite food would help her swallow that. It looked worse than the Polyjuice Potion but
didn’t smell as bad. “Winky!”
Hermione perked at the name of the elf and watched as the elf popped and turned
immediately to Moody. Did she know that Moody was actually her former master? “Did
Professor calls Winky?”
“Fetch some food for the poor things, will you?” He barked and Hermione narrowed her eyes
at him. Even under disguise, he was rude to his elf.
“Winky will be right back, sir! Winky will!” The elf quickly disappeared and Dumbledore
clapped once, happy that everything seemed to be sorted.
Winky didn’t return, but their plates appeared floating in front of them. Hermione reached for
the glass of water first and took a long sip.
“In case it’s not clear,” Dumbledore spoke as they all nibbled the muffins Winky had brought.
“Mr Diggory will be retrieving Miss Chang, Miss Delacour will of course retrieve her sister,
Mr Potter with Mr Weasley,” Weasley shot her a pointed look. Hermione didn’t bother rolling
her eyes, “and Mr Krum will retrieve Miss Granger.”
Hermione sighed, she just hoped Draco wouldn’t mind that much.
Braving herself and after receiving the last nod from Snape, she drank the potion. The effects
didn’t hit a first, she was able to watch the others also drink their potions. Hermione looked
around the room, the Head of Houses didn’t seem much happy with their student’s
predicament and that was the last thing Hermione thought before everything got dark.
His daughter was the first to fall and his own body locked with the stillness of hers.
Hermione’s head fell to the side of the armchair and her arms hung limp on her sides. Her
chest didn't move because the potion was too close to a Draught of the Living Death that
Filius even shed a tear. Percy Weasley seemed too shocked at the sight of his brother still as
dead.
Madame Maxime picked up Gabrielle and Barty-Moody picked up Miss Chang, as Filius was
way smaller than his student. Severus watched the entire movement with hawk eyes. He
knew Weasley was too tall and in his fainted form, too heavy to be carried, so Minerva
conjured a gurney and lifted the boy onto it. He lifted his daughter in his arms and forced the
memories of holding Lily’s body just like that back to the confines of his mind.
Dumbledore led them to a secret passage from his office that led to the ground floor and then
they silently left the castle under heavy disillusionment charms so no student would catch the
death procession towards the lake. The boats were waiting for them and the men not carrying
students helped the others get into the boats.
Minerva sat in front of him and watched Hermione with heavy eyes. He too didn’t seem to be
able to look away. “Couldn't you make it less like death?” She asked.
“I couldn’t just make them unconscious, their lungs would still work. There’s only one way
to keep them from using their lungs to breathe.”
“The Draught of Living Death.” She said.
“And a modified Basilisk venom to put their bodies in stasis like how they were while
petrified.”
“Poor things.”
He looked at her and saw that there was much more to that small comment. “This is insanity,
Minerva.” He said, surprised by the bite in his tone, “Leaving them to spend the night in the
Lake with the merpeople. The French girl is not even ten.”
Minerva looked tired. “If only you knew how many times I tried to argue with the idea.” She
said and Severus had an idea. Minerva was the only one besides himself that dared to
question Dumbledore and call him out on his absurdity.
It was safe to say that neither was much victorious.
The boats stopped in the middle of the lake, they could see the outlines of the stands at the
bank of the lake. They could barely see one another with the darkness around them. The
merpeople were waiting with their heads out of the water. Dumbledore approached them and
began speaking with the creatures in Mermish. The old man was the only one who knew the
language and Severus hated it.
He watched as Dumbledore pulled some ropes from his boat and Severus blanched at the
sight. “You can’t possibly think of tying them like living bait.”
Dumbledore smiled faintly, amused at Severus’ comment.
“They will float away otherwise.” He said as it was obvious, “The merpeople have already
set the places where they will be, we need something to make them stay.
Severus didn’t reply, just watched as Dumbledore hooked a rope around Miss Chang’s waist
and lifted the girl’s body with his wand. One of the mermaids grabbed the end of the rope and
pulled. The girl and mermaid disappeared underwater. Filius audibly sobbed.
Insanity.
Minerva wrapped the rope around Hermione’s body and she helped him to lift Hermione and
lower her to the water. He wouldn’t let the scaly creatures pull his daughter down like a sack
of potatoes.
But as the mermaid pulled, he found his hand refusing to give and the creature hissed
something in its language to him. He watched Hermione’s blank, sleeping face. Oh Lily,
forgive me. He let her go and Occluded as her body disappeared into the black waters.
Severus didn’t speak a single word and refused to even look at Dumbledore for the rest of the
night.
“Where’s Hermione?” Draco asked, his godson’s voice was worried.
“I don’t know. I think she went ahead with Weasley.” Parkinson replied and the girl looked
around her as if expecting Hermione to simply show up.
“Nah, they don’t talk anymore,” Nott said and Severus noticed how the boy was gripping the
pockets of Zabini’s jacket.
“Oh yeah. Maybe she went with her brother? Hold his hand or some shit like that.” Zabini
said.
“It might be. But she wasn’t at breakfast as well.” Draco replied.
“And she didn’t come last night,” Parkinson added and she was pulling on her ponytail. A
telltale of her stress.
“Well, that we don’t know.” Greengrass giggled. Neither the girl nor Zabini seemed to share
Parkinson’s and Nott’s anxiety.
“Maybe she’s with you know who,” Zabini said, baiting Draco.
“Don’t say that again. It sounds really wrong.” Draco shivered.
“Oooh,” Greengrass said and wiggled her eyebrows back, “she’s with her man.”
Draco huffed. “He’s not her man.” But his shoulders had grown tense and Severus watched as
the boy looked to where a group of Durmstrang students were.
Severus wondered what the boy would think upon seeing her being rescued by Viktor Krum.
“Whatever you say, big boy,” Zabini said laughing and mimicking a blowjob with his hand.
Severus had had enough.
“Five points from Slytherin.” He announced from behind them and the group jumped and
exclaimed at the same time.
“Professor!” Greengrass exclaimed.
“I didn’t—” Zabini began.
“We—” Greengrass stopped at his glare.
“Stop behaving like dunderheads if you don’t want to lose another five.” He scowled.
They all nodded. Nott looked at him longer, “Hermione’s not—”
“She's fine.” He replied. “You are going to see for yourselves soon enough.”
There was a collectively sigh in relief from Parkinson and Nott and Severus tried to quickly
brush through the girl’s mind to see what was causing that.
Severus himself had felt anxious waiting for Barty-Moody to appear with his daughter, it
wasn’t surprising that Parkinson and Nott would worry as well. He let them climb on the
stands that were now turned to face the lake before him and got behind Draco.
“Is she there already?” Draco asked.

“Technically,” Severus replied and Draco looked at him curiously. He wasn’t going to explain
it further, lest his godson gave a show.
He watched the boy, quiet and hunched. He didn’t think Draco deserved Hermione, Severus
could only think of all the many ways the boy could be better and in his mind, the list could
go on forever, but the boy had already improved from the last years and Severus had to
admit, was better than he had been at that age, so maybe when the boy got to his thirties if
Hermione were to still fancy this particular idea.
When his students got to their seats Severus moved to go to the judges’ table where the
champions were already there—he stopped, all but one. Potter was missing and Dumbledore
and the others were all looking around worriedly.
Certainly…Potter wouldn’t have forfeited, right?
Of course not, because as soon as he thought it, they all could see the boy sprinting alongside
the bank of the lake towards the judge's table.
Parkinson snorted. “Unbelievable.” She muttered. Severus decided to stay right there in case
one of his students decided to shout any encouragement to Potter.
“He overslept.” Theo sniggered, “what a nitwit.”
Severus turned a raised eyebrow at the boy. He was extensively aware of all the other words
they could - and had - have used to describe the Gryffindor.
They all watched as the boy bent over, hands on his knees and gasping for breath. Ludo
Bagman didn’t waste a moment before beginning to organise the champions. He spaced them
along the bank at intervals of ten feet and as luck would have it, Potter ended up standing
with his back to him and his Slytherins, at the very end of the line, next to Viktor Krum.
Draco huffed, “does he really need to be on swimming trunks?”
“He's going to swim Draco, what did you expect?” Zabini laughed, “his winter cloak? Hm,
thinking about it he could have worn it on top of his trunks, it would be—”
“Do not finish this sentence please.” Nott cut Zabini off, for the sake of Severus’ ears.
“Potter!” Someone yelled and Severus winced at the strident noise. It was so absurd to even
think about it that it took Severus a few seconds to realise that it had been Parkinson’s voice
and that Potter was not only turning around but waking towards her.
The boy scanned the group and his face fell. “Shit,” he said.
“I thought you had drowned already,” Parkinson said and there was no bite in her tone.
Potter shook his head. “Where's Hermione?” He asked.
Parkinson shrugged. “She didn’t return yesterday.”

“Shit.” He said
“What?” Nott asked his voice back to worried.
“Dobby woke me up today and he told me to hurry because I had to rescue my Wheezy—
that’s Ron. That’s what I have to do. But if Hermione’s missing too—”
And Severus watched, impressed, curious and baffled at the conversation taking place next to
him. Draco had remained quiet, watching his friends with the same suspicion as Zabini and
Greengrass were. Whatever this was, it was only between Potter, Parkinson and Nott.
Draco turned purple and his eyes narrowed to slits before he sent a glare in Krum’s direction.
“Are you implying that my girlfriend is currently underwater about to be rescued by that
oaf?” His face was all contorted in simmering anger and his tone betrayed the jealousy he
was trying very hard to hide.
Nott didn’t reply and was looking around the stands instead, “Delacour's sister is also
missing.” He pointed out.
“And Cedric’s little girlfriend as well,” Greengrass commented.
“—Excuse me, yeah, sorry, coming trough, oops sorry.” They heard and Severus decided that
it would be a great idea to jump into the lake himself because that was the voice of Sirius
Black.
“Sirius!” Harry said and the godfather waved at him.
“We were a bit late because of the security checking back at the gates,” Black explained. “But
we wouldn’t miss it, of course.”
“Thanks, and hi Remus.” Harry greeted with a small, thankful smile. Severus had to resist the
urge to not roll his eyes.
“Are you ready, Harry?”
“Yes, I know what I have to do now and figured the how yesterday,” the boy said and shot a
quick look at Parkinson and Nott. The pair were looking smugly. Salazar’s beard, Merlin help
him.
“Good, good.”
“Sonorus!” They heard from Ludo Bagman down to the middle of the bank, between Harry
and Cedric Diggory.
“Go on,” Sirius urged, “we are going to be here.”
“All our champions are ready for the second task, which will start on my whistle.” Ludo
Bagman announced. “They have precisely an hour to recover what has been taken from
them,” Draco muttered something very unpleasant. “One… Two… Three!”
The whistle echoed as Potter was removing his shoes and socks, applauses and cheers echoed
around them. He saw the boy pulling something out of his pocket and putting it into his
mouth before wading out into the lake.
His godfather screamed a last ‘good luck’ to Potter and the moment all the champions were
underwater huge screen-like images appeared in the air and they could see the four
champions on four different screens swimming.
Everyone gasped as they showed what each champion had done to be able to breathe
underwater. Both Mr Diggory and Miss Delacour had used the bubble spell, while Mr Krum
had gone above and beyond and transfigured himself into half a shark. Severus wasn’t certain
that this result had been his intention.
“Is that Gillyweed?” Remus asked as everyone watched gills and webbed hands and feet
appeared on Harry.
“Yeah,” Nott replied, “We got them yesterday.”
“We?” Zabini asked. “Since when you and Potter are mates?”
Nott snorted, “We are not mates, we went to the library with Hermione because I needed to
ask something and then when she had to leave it came down to us to help him get it.”
“You mean steal it,” Greengrass said
“Possibly.”
“What did you need to ask him anyway?” Draco asked and his disdain was schooled because
his godson seemed to think his cousin was cool and didn’t want to look back at the man.
“You are going to see soon enough,” Nott replied with a smirk that Lupin matched.
“You are doing it, then?” Lupin asked and Nott nodded. Lupin patted the boy’s shoulder
encouragingly.
Severus definitely didn’t want to know.
Everyone gasped again and Severus flinched at the sight in front of them. The screens were
now showing them what the champions would have to recover and it was chilling.
Four kids were floating underwater, their bodies loose and moving along with the current. All
of them were bound tightly to the tail of a stone statue of a merperson.
“Fucking hell,” Zabini muttered and Severus could agree.
Hermione was being shown on the fourth screen, the same as Krum had been, so everyone
knew she was what the Durmstrang boy had to recover. His godson looked like he had
swallowed a very sour lemon.
“Yeah, Little Cousin, you have to get a move on with that or else strong boy is going to fish
her away,” Black said and when Severus turned to glare at the man, he found that Lupin was
looking at him. Studying, probably wondering what Severus thought of the whole ordeal.
Severus looked away.
He kept his eyes on the two screens on the far left, the one showing Potter and the one
showing Krum. Severus might have taken his potion himself because he didn’t think that he
had breathed properly since last night when he watched Hermione disappear under the
surface.
Potter was the first to arrive, after a small interaction with a Grindylow and with the help of
the crying ghost who pointed him in the right direction.
The boy seemed to try to argue with the merpeople and actually yanked the spear from one of
them, receiving a “that's my boy” from Black and an “of course, go after the pointy things
from the pointed ugly evil-looking things, you bloody moron” from Parkinson.
Potter dived and snatched up one of the rocks. “Why doesn’t he use his wand?” Zabini asked.
“Because you haven’t learned how to cast spells nonverbally and he can’t speak underwater.”
Severus offered and Black made a show of only then noticing him there.
“It's not like this completion is fair or anything,” Daphne said, clearly sarcastic.
Potter began to hack at the ropes binding the Weasley boy and after what seemed forever,
they broke apart and the boy floated unconscious upwards a bit.
“Go,” people were urging, “grab him and go.” They said.
But Potter was a bleeding heart Gryffindor and he hesitated, he looked at Hermione and
Severus wished the boy would just grab his sister as well.
“Get her,” Draco muttered under his breath, “just get her,” he said and the boy sounded
desperate.
Potter turned back to Hermione and raised his silly rock, at once several merpeople seized
him and pulled him away from Hermione. They seemed to be laughing at him and of course,
Potter began to argue with the creatures. He doubted that Gillyweed made him speak
Mermish as well, so he figured that the creatures in the Black Lake knew how to speak
English, they just refused to on a daily.
Mr Diggory finally appeared and he quickly came and cut the bindings of Miss Chang’s body
with a knife. He didn’t hesitate and grabbed the girl and swam towards the surface.
Still, Potter lingered, he couldn’t seem to leave his sister’s side.
“He's going to wait until they get her,” Nott said, a lit bit relieved. “He's not leaving her
behind.”
“They should give him points for arriving first to the prize, right?” Black asked, right as Mr
Diggory broke the surface and Miss Chang woke up startled.
“I don’t know, but it’s Potter so Dumbledore will definitely find something to award him
with.” Parkinson shrugged.
Mr Krum appeared then and they watched as the half-shark-half-boy swam towards
Hermione and started biting and gnawing at the ropes to get her free.
“Fucking brute,” Draco hissed, “be careful shithead or you are getting only half of her out of
the water!” He called as if the boy would hear him.
Mr Krum left, dragging Hermione by the rope with his fucking teeth. His attention shifted he
watched in bated breath waiting for him to break the surface with his daughter. Anxiety,
tension and gut-wrenching fear left him once he saw Hermione gasping and her wide eyes
looking around her.
“Thank fuck it’s over,” Zabini said.
But it wasn’t.
Because Miss Delacour, was having problems with the Grindylows, they were surrounding
her and bitting and pulling at her. The crowd gasped when the creatures left. Miss Delacour
had fallen unconscious. Everyone could see the cuts and marks the creatures had left on her
arms and legs. Her sinking body was enough to have two wizards jumping into the water to
retrieve her.
The clock had five minutes left. “They wouldn’t let the girl die, right?” Greengrass asked, she
had her eyes glued to Gabrielle Delacour’s screen.
But Potter wouldn’t even if they would. He pointed his wand at the merpeople, making them
draw back in fear. When they finally scattered, Potter hacked the girl free as well and Miss
Delacour, already back and conscious was sobbing uncontrollably at the sight. He seized both
Weasley and the girl and swam.
It was very slow work, he had barely two minutes left and the Gillyweed seemed to be losing
its effects. “They are too heavy.” Lupin commented, “He's going to lose the effects of the
plant at this pace.”
Merpeople were rising with him, watching the boy struggle. And just as Remus had said, his
webbed feet and hands disappeared. He was kicking hard and was clearly struggling to
breathe, but finally, he broke the surface and people cheered.
“Fucking Gryffindor,” Parkinson kept muttering and shaking her head.
“Now it’s over,” Blaise repeated.
Severus could agree. But it didn’t seem so to his godson, who was glaring with murder in his
eyes as he watched Krum fuss over Hermione and touch the girl’s head.
Maybe it wasn’t over after all.
Chapter End Notes
The next chapter will come probably this Friday or Saturday! I'm glad that I was able to
get some writing done this month!!
I hope you enjoyed it, if so please leave a comment!
The title of this chapter and the quote at the beginning belongs to My Heart is Buried in
Venice by Ricky Montgomery
exhales and in the hope of open hands
Chapter Notes
hello!! I hope you've been great! Firstly, I wanted to thank everyone who took the time
to comment on the fic, I really appreciate all the lovely comments that I receive. During
the past week I was trying to reply to the comments before chapter 34, so this week I
will go over replying to last week's chapter.
TW: possible trigger for mentions of hypothermia and dealing with trauma.
The characters don't belong to me. Credits to the original author of the books.
It feels like an out-of-body experience

but something gets lost from a safe distance
now I can't put my mind to rest
and I can't help but second guess
Chapter Thirty-Five
Cold. That was the only thing she could feel. It seemed impossible that her entire body
burned, that it felt like she had been dumped inside of a volcano instead of a lake. Its icy
waters seared her skin and she felt numb. Hermione couldn’t even feel her body, much less
move it. The only thing she knew was cold.
Her body wouldn’t move and her eyes wouldn’t open. The latter, she thought was for the best
because Hermione was pretty sure the panic that would settle if she could open her eyes and
not see anything but darkness would make things much worse.
Hermione knew that she was at the bottom of the lake because of the silence-not-silence that
she could only attribute to being deep underwater. She remembered the one time she went
snorkelling with her family in Greece the summer before coming to Hogwarts for the first
time. She remembered the feeling of the pressure in her ears, this wasn’t the same.
This was drowning. Over and over and not exactly. Hermione felt like someone had pressed a
pillow over her mouth and nose and kept it there, pressing and pressing but never actually
finishing her off.
Was she losing consciousness? Hermione didn’t know. Professor Snape told her that it would
feel like sleeping, but it was actually hell.
Sometimes she could swear that she felt something touching her, but that would imply that
she could feel her body, which she couldn’t. But it felt like a slow, long drag of something
pointy through her arm and cheek. Hermione wished she could flinch, that she could just
leave.
Maybe she was hallucinating, maybe sailors who fell from their ships hallucinated creatures
like the Kraken because of the temperature. But they all died.
Was she going to die? Had she died already? Hermione didn’t know. She knew only cold.
The water shook around her. No, that sounded wrong. How could water shake without
waves? Was she shaking? probably. There was current now passing through her as if the cold
hadn’t been enough.
And suddenly, Hermione could breathe again. The white February sky was blinding and she
gasped, her heart was hammering in her chest and her lungs were burning, as she had just
spent ten hours holding her breath. Maybe she did.
Hermione looked around, people seemed to be cheering, but she couldn’t quite hear them, it
was muffled, as if she was still underwater. Viktor was pulling her along because Hermione
wasn’t being any help, she could barely move her head around, and her arms and legs were
still useless.
She silently thanked all the many times she saw him swimming in the lake during the past
year because she knew he could bear the cold and pull her along. Hermione noticed that one
merperson was following them, but the creature didn’t remove its eyes from Hermione. Like
the thing knew what Hermione had gone through just now.
They reached the bank and quite embarrassingly, she dragged her body through the bank, the
pebbles cutting through her palms. Madam Pomfrey wrapped a thick blanket around her and
Hermione gasped "Cold" at the woman.
“What?” Madam Pomfrey asked.
“Co—” she said again and only then realised that her words hadn’t come out the first time,
“Cold,” she tried again.
“I know, I know,” Madam Pomfrey said and pulled yet another blanket over her. The matron
waved her wand to dry Hermione’s hair a bit, but it didn’t seem to make her stop shaking and
teeth from chattering. Furious, full-body shivers and spasms keep running through her body.
Viktor was saying something, but Hermione couldn’t pay attention. His hands were moving
up and down her arms, trying to warm her up, but his hands were cold as well and she
couldn’t help but flinch away.
Delacour came rushing past her, trying to throw herself back into the lake and Hermione
slowly moved her head to follow the girl, her entire body was sluggish and heavy. Harry was
there. He had brought Delacour’s sister alongside Ron.
Ron seemed to be swimming fine, helping the little girl. Hermione turned to find Cho and the
girl too seemed fine, she was up already and talking with Diggory animatedly.
Gabrielle run to her sister the moment her feet touched the shore and Delacour finally broke
off Madam Maxime to hug the small girl.
Hermione’s eyes still felt heavy, like she could pass out at any moment, she doubted she
could run even if she wanted.
Harry got pulled next to her and Madam Pomfrey wrapped the blankets around him and
seemed to stop and baulk at the sight of her. “You are very purple, Miss Granger.”
“‘m cold,” she replied and Madam Pomfrey’s expression turned to one of graveness. She cast
a warming charm over Hermione's body and the girl felt goosebumps all over her skin. It was
better, but it seemed that the cold had carved through her bones and took residence there.
“You okay?” Harry asked, looking at her worriedly, “I wanted to rescue you as well, the
Merpeople wouldn’t let me.”
“Herm-own-ninny was mine to rescue,” Viktor replied, his brow furrowed.
“I know,” Harry replied, “but she’s my sister.” He said and the three of them turned to watch
the two sisters still wrapped around one another. Fleur was smothering the small girl,
checking for any sort of injury.
She seemed fine. Everyone but Hermione seemed to be completely fine.
“You haff a vater beetle in your hair, Herm-own-ninny,” Viktor said and reached to grab it
from her wet curls. She hated bugs but she didn’t have any strength in her arms to bat the
beetle away.
“You don’t seem fine,” Harry commented.
“Don't you feel cold?” She asked.
“Not anymore. But when I first got into the water I thought I was going to freeze.”
She felt tears threatening to spill, but she brushed them away, lest they froze on her eyelids.
Hermione turned away. Dumbledore was crouching at the water’s edge, deep in conversation
with the chief merperson. She vaguely noted that the man could speak Mermish as he made
some screechy noises that seemed to be understandable to the merpeople. When he
straightened up, Dumbledore turned to his fellow judges, and said, “A conference before we
give the marks, I think.”
The judges got together to discuss whatever the merperson had told Dumbledore, she felt her
body sagging and she allowed it to rest against Harry’s shoulder. Madam Pomfrey had just
returned with Weasley and both Delacour girls. She gave a Pepper Up Potion to Hermione,
“Drink this” the matron ordered and Hermione downed it in one go.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our decision. Merchieftainess Murcus has told us
exactly what happened at the bottom of the lake, and we have therefore decided to award
marks out of fifty for each of the champions.” Ludo Bagman announced and the people in the
crowd murmured their guesses. She could hear Harry’s name a lot among them and she
wondered what Harry had done. Besides rescuing two hostages.
“Fleur Delacour, though she demonstrated excellent use of the Bubble-Head Charm, was
attacked by grindylows as she approached her goal, and failed to retrieve her hostage. We
award her twenty-five points.” Mr Bagman announced with the help of his magnified voice.
“I deserved zero,” said Fleur throatily, shaking her head even as people applauded her.
“Cedric Diggory, who also used the Bubble-Head Charm, was first to return with his hostage,
though he returned one minute outside the time limit of an hour.” Enormous cheers from the
Hufflepuffs in the crowd; Hermione saw Cho give Cedric an enamoured look. “We, therefore,
award him forty-seven points.”
“Shit,” Harry said and Hermione made a sound that she hoped he understood as a question.
He did. “Cedric was the first to arrive. If he was outside the time limit, then everyone else
also was. Me, most definitely, as I’ve arrived last.”
“Viktor Krum used an incomplete form of Transfiguration, which was nevertheless effective
and was second to return with his hostage. We award him forty points.” Karkaroff was
clapping very hard, he looked immensely proud of his student “Harry Potter used gillyweed
to great effect,” Bagman continued. “He returned last, and well outside the time limit of an
hour. However, the Merchieftainess informs us that Mr Potter was first to reach the hostages
and that the delay in his return was due to his determination to return all hostages to safety,
not merely his own.”
Weasley shot Harry a look of exasperation and she felt Harry tensing next to her.
“You did good,” she mumbled, “I feel better knowing that you were there with me,” she said.
“Hermione—” Harry spoke, pulling away and holding her steady when her body fell with the
lack of support, “you are definitely not okay.”
“I just need to rest a bit, I think,” Hermione replied.
“Most of the judges feel that this shows moral fibre and merits full marks. However… Mr
Potter’s score is forty-five points.”
“I'm tied with Cedric for first place!” He announced happily and laughed, Weasley followed
and started clapping with the rest of the crowd.
“Well done Harry,” she said and hugged him.
“Merlin, Hermione” Harry pulled away, his eyes wide, “you are like a block of ice!”
Madam Pomfrey had heard it and returned to check on her, right as Bagman was announcing
the third task, “The third and final task will take place at dusk on the twenty-fourth of June,”
he said, “The champions will be notified of what is coming precisely one month beforehand.
Thank you all for your support of the champions.”
“With me Miss Granger,” Madam Pomfrey said and hoisted her up, not that it did much,
because her legs gave away. Her brother and Viktor held her up and suddenly Hermione felt
that there were other pairs of hands around her. Everything went dark.
The noise returned to her first. There was something heavy on top of her, but it wasn’t the
agonising pressure she felt on the lake, it was comforting. She could actually feel it and
Hermione wiggled her fingers and toes, testing her extremities.
“—wasn’t supposed to happen,” someone was saying.
“—perfectly brewed to avoid exactly this!” Someone hissed.
“Something must have gone wrong during your brew, Severus.” Someone replied and there
was a loud noise of chairs? Or desks, being pushed.
“Please,” someone tried to placate - most probably - Professor Snape, “let's not get carried
away. Do you still have the potion, Severus?”
“Of course,” he barked. His voice was as icy as her body had felt.
Hermione decided to try opening her eyes and she found her hospital bed surrounded once
she did. Her Head of House, the headmaster, her brother, Remus, Sirius, Madam Pomfrey and
Moody were present.
“Hermione, darling, can you hear me?” Madam Pomfrey asked, coming closer to her and
waving her wand on top of Hermione.
“Yeah,” she replied, voice rough. How long had she slept? She searched for Harry, he still
had the same clothes he wore during the competition, but they were dry. It couldn’t have been
long.
“Good.” Madam Pomfrey said, “How do you feel?”
Hermione considered. She didn’t feel that cold anymore and her head didn’t hurt as much as
it did. “All right.”
“Good, good. Can you sit up?”
Hermione nodded and moved to sit, Remus who was on her other side, helped her and
adjusted the pillows behind her.
“What happened?” She asked, all of them were looking at her like something very grave had
happened.
“You were having a moderate case of Hypothermia once you left the Lake,” Madam Pomfrey
explained, “but—” she hesitated before continuing, “the diagnosis spell I cast showed that
you collapsed at least four times in the past thirteen hours.”
“Collapsed?” She asked.

“Nearly died,” Moody replied and a few people in the room flinched at the words.
“What?” She asked, confused.
“A magical core is different from a muggle one,” Dumbledore began explaining, “the water
temperature in the lake was around eight degrees and apparently, you felt it.” His tone
indicated that he was asking her and he waited before he continued. When Hermione nodded,
resulting in huffs from around her and a series of swearing from Sirius, Dumbledore
continued, his eyes suddenly very sad. “A temperature that low and to such a prolonged
exposure… would have killed a muggle in a matter of two to three hours, but because you are
a witch and Professor Snape’s potion still had some effects on you, it brought you back a few
times.”
It was silent once he spoke those words. Harry was sitting on her bed next to her and only
then did she realise he had a hand over her arm. He looked miserable. Remus still looked
terrified and Sirius looked furious and she knew he was most probably blaming Professor
Snape for it.
She couldn’t look at him. He had said it would feel like sleep, instead she died at least four
times.
From now on, it’s all an act, was this what the message meant? Was he going to do shady
things to her to keep a pretence? Was he this willing to hide? Why her? She thought bitterly,
why couldn’t he give a flukey potion to someone else?
Hermione noticed that Madam Pomfrey was talking to her and she blinked to focus on the
Medwitch. “—every day before bed until the last drop.”
She had a vial in her hand and Hermione figured this was what she had to drink. Hermione
nodded and the matron put the vial on the bedside table.
“Miss Granger is going to be fine now,” the Headmaster spoke, “let's leave so she can rest a
bit more before returning to her Common Room.”
Dumbledore motioned with his head to Moody to follow him. Had Snape told him that he
wasn’t the one he pretended to be? Was he taking Moody from the room on purpose?
“If you feel any dizziness or cold don’t hesitate to call me, Miss Granger.” The matron said
and Hermione nodded.
The minute the door to her office closed behind her, Sirius spoke. “What are you still doing
here?” He asked and by his tone alone she knew it was aimed at Professor Snape.
She didn’t raise her head to look, kept her gaze fixed on Harry’s arm.
“Sirius—” Remus tried, only to be cut off immediately.
“He has no business being here Remus,” Sirius said and Hermione caught the snap of his
tone and the lack of a nickname. “He had one job!”
“You are not deaf Black, you heard the Headmaster say that the potion was manipulated.”
Professor Snape snarled.
“No doubt by you!” Sirius snapped, “Go, she’s with her family now.”
“Sirius, he’s her—”
“You can go with him if you so want his presence, Remus!”
Harry’s eyes widened at the explosion and Hermione looked between the pair. Not one of the
good days then.
Remus glared at Sirius and with a stubbornness worthy of a Gryffindor, levelled Snape with a
look, “let's go, Severus. Let’s the children talk a bit.”
Sirius glared at Remus’ back until the moment the man closed the Hospital Wing door.
“You don’t actually think that Snape messed up her potion, do you?” Harry asked, surprising
Hermione.
Sirius muttered something that Hermione couldn’t catch and then, “wouldn't put it past him.”
Harry looked at her then, “He cares for you. He was by your side the moment you fainted. He
pushed Krum to the side and helped me carry you here.” Harry told her, “he was furious,
Hermione.”
Sirius looked very displeased with the whole thing, Hermione decided she didn’t want to hear
about Snape. Maybe he hadn’t done it on purpose, but she had trusted him and because of
him, she drowned. Multiple times. “What happened between you and Remus?” Hermione
asked instead.
Sirius’ glare only worsened and he scowled. “He's been weird for weeks, leaving in the
middle of the night—he’s hiding something from me and he knows how much I hate it.” Sirius
said, “he knows what happened the last time.”
Hermione and Harry exchanged a glance. They knew what Remus was hiding from Sirius. “I
don’t like Professor Snape either.” Harry began and Hermione watched curiously because
Harry was using a tone that wasn’t usually accompanied by talks of Snape. “But he—” Harry
hesitated, “he fixed my glasses for me the other day. He noticed that I was having trouble
reading the board and he adjusted the lenses for my prescription. He wouldn’t purposely do
that to Hermione.”
“You didn’t tell me that,” Hermione said.
Harry shook his head. “I realised that it’s the Slytherin way,” he offered her a smile. “And I
realised today, seeing him practically materialising next to you the moment you went down…
The group we saw in his office through the map? The thing everyone had in common? That’s
you. They all care about you.”
“What are you talking about?” Sirius asked, furrowing his eyebrows.
“We know where Remus’ going when he leaves in the middle of the night,” Hermione said. If
they were going to tell Sirius, she was going to be the one to do it. They watched as Sirius
widened his eyes and then narrowed them again, in suspicion. “A few weeks ago Harry saw
Remus, Snape and Narcissa Malfoy in Snape’s office.” She said and squeezed Harry’s hand
urging him to keep quiet. “He told me and we were trying to find out what would they be
doing together at one in the morning.”
“It was after something happened between Professor Snape and Moody. Moody said some
things that got Snape really on edge and then he called the others.” Harry added.
“What did he say?” Sirius asked, he was the one on edge now.
“I think you should ask them.” Hermione said, “They know better than we do.” And she
couldn’t say the rest, she had promised Snape that she wouldn’t. It was better to have Sirius
speaking directly to the other too than either of them spilling something they shouldn’t.
“Remus didn’t tell me when I asked, why would he—”
“Because now you know.” Hermione said, “And you don’t quite like your cousin and
Professor Snape, so I think he believed you would—”
“Think he’s on their side.” Harry finished, giving the blow. Sirius paled and Hermione
guessed that this was still a pressing matter between the two. And by his expression, a very
likely conclusion. “Because I did, until the glasses and earlier today. I don’t trust Snape
easily and it was easy for me to think that Remus would be working for them, then to believe
that Snape and Narcissa would be working for us.” Hermione was immensely glad Harry had
stuck with just Narcissa.
“Are you okay?” Sirius asked Hermione, still shaken by the news, but with a new resolution
in his eyes. She nodded. “I will go look for them now.” He kissed her hair and tucked the
covers around her.
They both nodded and the pair of siblings remained in silence until they couldn’t hear his
footsteps anymore.
“I don’t like lying to him,” Harry said.
“We wouldn’t have gotten nowhere had we told him about Lucius.”
Harry sighed. “I know. Do you think they will tell him now?”
Hermione nodded. “Yes.”
“He's a bit like me.” Harry commented, “Sirius. He doesn’t like to have secrets kept from
him.”
“No one does,” Hermione said
“Then why haven’t you told me what you learned about Moody?” He asked her.
“Because I don’t want to put you in danger.”
“Look at you Hermione,” Harry said, pointing at her bed. “You were in danger today.”
Hermione sighed. “Remember how we keep seeing Mr Crouch on the map? That’s because
he’s pretending to be Professor Moody. He’s under polyjuice.”
“The attack at the end of the summer and the person stealing from Snape’s cupboards… I
saw Mr Crouch in Snape’s office that day…”
“Yeah. I went to ask Snape. Draco and I spent hours in the library trying to figure out and
yet, we couldn’t find why would Mr Crouch pretend to be Moody.”
“What did he say?”
Hermione blushed, remembering how she had tried their Potions professor before telling him
what she knew. “I wanted to know why the other three were here before telling him who’s
pretending to be Moody,” Harry smirked.
“You bribed him.” He snorted, “what a little Slytherin.”
“Straight to number two on the list.” She said, laughing a bit. “I told him that I’d tell him
who was pretending to be Moody if he told me what the others were doing in the castle then.”
“The nerve!” He chuckled and shook his head, “I'd lose all the points if I tried the same
thing.”
Hermione shrugged. “He told me that since Moody was terribly keen on antagonising me, he
thought prudent to let Remus know, as he’s my godfather and has the means to investigate
further who was wearing Moody’s face.”
“So he knew after that encounter that Moody wasn’t Moody?”
“Yeah, something that Moody said tipped him off. And he called them.” Hermione didn’t say
that she didn’t entirely believe Remus’ excuse, but she did believe in the rest, “He told me
something else too. About the Order of the Phoenix.”
“What's that?"
“It's Dumbledore’s group. The group of wizards and witches that fought Voldemort during the
war and it’s preparing to fight again. I think Sirius and Remus were part of the Order then, as
were our parents,” she said, “And Professor Snape was the spy for them. But he told me of a
third group of people, one that doesn’t completely trust the Order for one reason or the
order.” Hermione explained and watched as Harry connected the dots.
“Why doesn’t Remus trust the Order?”
“Because of what happened to Sirius. Dumbledore knew he was innocent Harry. Both times.
Last year, he didn’t tell Fudge the truth, remember? I did. Sirius spent twelve years in
Azkaban.”
Harry nodded, “And the Malfoys? What’s their reason?”
“They are self-centred. They care only about themselves.” She replied, “Their reasons are
never going to be enough for Dumbledore because of Lucius’ involvement with Voldemort
and their interests are better fitted with the world as it is now. Uncle Lucius wants a world
with the threat of his lord’s return not to actually have him returning.”
“Because he’s the one in command now.”
“Exactly.”
“And Snape?”
“I don’t know his reason. But something happened many years ago to make him turn spy and
I know that he doesn’t approve of the way Dumbledore does some things, like keeping me in
the dark about my family.”
“So they have their own thing.”
Hermione nodded. “I know that you have a very strong sense of justice and you always try to
do the right thing, but—”
“You don’t need to try to defend your friends for me, Hermione.” He told her, surprising her
that he knew exactly what she was going to say. “They do the right thing for you. And I heard
what people are saying about you and Malfoy, I heard what Lavender said about you and
Nott the other day. But they are still doing the right thing for you.”
The door opened again and it kept Hermione from replying to that. Remus, Sirius and
Professor Snape were returning. Snape was the only one that didn’t look pleased.
“They are leaving the castle now and wanted to say goodbye.” The Potions professor told
her.
Remus leaned down to hug her and she squeezed her eyes with the hug. He was always
warm, but with the way her body was still cold, he felt ever warmer and it was hard letting
him go. “Write to me, okay?” He asked and she nodded. “You did well.”
Sirius came next and he also hugged her, “thank you, Hermione, I always find myself
thanking you.”
She smiled at him when he let her go and he rested at hand on her cheek and smiled back.
“Mr Potter, your godfather and Mr Lupin will walk you back to your tower.” Professor Snape
said, in what everyone knew was his ordering voice.
Harry nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Professor Snape conjured a set of clothes and a pair o shoes with socks on top of her bed, “I
believe if you remove the clothes you were wearing at the lake the feeling of coldness might
leave your body.” He told her, “Change, I will take you to your common room.”
Hermione nodded and without looking him in the eyes pulled the curtains around her bed and
began to change. The moment she pulled the covers down, a full-body shiver ran through her
making her tremble and lock her body for a moment before she could force herself to move
her arms to reach for the pile of clothes. Hermione was certain that Professor Snape had
heard her gasp.
Painstakingly slowly she changed and then opened the curtains. Snape gave her a once-over
and he frowned. She could guess her lips had gotten purple again. Hermione almost told him
just how cold she felt, but for that, she’d have to speak to him and she was afraid of crying if
she did.
Without saying a word, she got off the bed and grabbed the vials Madam Pomfrey had left on
her bedside table. Snape turned to leave and she followed him.
The castle was cold, with its unforgiving stones and huge windows, but nothing compared to
the coldness of the dungeons. Hermione could swear her breath fogged in front of her. She
hugged her body as they descended.
Professor Snape cast a warming charm on her before speaking, “I remember instructing you
to not tell anyone about what you saw on the map.”
“I didn’t. I told him to ask you.” Hermione replied.
“Of course you did.”
More silence.
“Morgana,” Snape said once they arrived in front of the stone that led to the common room.
Hermione crossed it without saying another word.
The common room wasn’t empty, but since it was a Wednesday without classes, most of the
students were enjoying their day off somewhere else. Her friends were there at least, and they
all perked at the sight of her.
Blaise scooted to the side, making space on the sofa next to him. Draco was on his other side
and Hermione wanted nothing else but to cuddle against him and try to forget the past hours.
And the cold.
“Guess she didn’t drown, then.” An upper-level student said to his friend and Hermione
pretended to not hear it. She had had her fair share of stupid comments in her first two years,
so she was pretty used to those by now.
Hermione squeezed in between both boys and their warmth was already doing loads more
than the blankets Madam Pomfrey had given her.
Draco remained unmoving next to her and she knew he was probably angry with the whole
‘what Krum would miss the most’ thing. She just hoped he wasn’t angry at her.
“What happened?” Pansy asked, she and Daphne were sharing an armchair to Draco’s
right.
Hermione told them everything, from the moment Moody went to pick her up to just moments
ago. She only left out her conversation with Sirius and Harry.
“Fucking hell, Granger,” Blaise muttered once she finished and he moved closer to her,
trying to give her more heat. Draco had sneaked an arm behind her throughout her tale and
she sighed, at least it wasn’t with her that he was angry.
“Do they know who manipulated the potions?” Theo asked.
Hermione shook her head. “It was just mine.” She replied.
“Hm,” Daphne said, “There are two options. It’s either that whoever manipulated the potion
was aiming for you specifically or you drew the short Bowtuckle.”
“But who would do something like that?” Theo asked, “I mean, I know that there are plenty
of people that would do something like that, what I mean to ask is who’d be insane enough to
mess up with a potion brewed by Severus Snape specifically for this task?”
Well, Hermione had her guesses.
Draco shook his head, “He’s paranoid with his potions on a daily,” he said, “I doubt he’d
leave them unattended or without wards. And even if he did, he’d be able to notice something
wrong immediately. He can spot whenever Crabbe or Goyle have stirred a beat too slow.”
“Was the potion handed to you? Or did you get to choose?” Daphne asked.
“I chose. Professor Snape had them all on a tray, we just had to pick a vial.”
“Merlin Hermione, if I didn’t know just how much you would miss me, I’d tell you to transfer
to Beauxbatons because you have had attempts on your life every year since you arrived,”
Blaise told her and for a moment she was glad because he managed to get a chuckle out of
her.
“We could all go,” Pansy said, suddenly serious.
“Theo's too brooding for Beauxbatons.” Daphne laughed, “honestly? Draco’s paleness
would clash terribly with their uniform.”
Draco rolled his eyes, “Silk is for pyjamas.” He said.
Hermione giggled and leaned a bit to his side, he pressed back.
They all talked a bit more and then when it was time, went for dinner together.
That night, Hermione got a taste of what would be her next don’t-know-how-many days.
She made sure the water in the tub was hot and she stepped in without any problems,
Hermione was feeling even at peace while she soaped her body and hair. But that had given
her a bit too much confidence and she didn’t think twice before leaning back on the water and
submerging to let all the soap and shampoo rinse from her body.
It had been a very, very bad idea.
At once, her eyes opened and her lips parted in a terrified gasp, which led her to swallow
water. Hermione trashed and there was a loud, ringing noise. Pansy and Daphne rushed
inside and only then did Hermione realise that the noise had been her own scream.
“What's wrong?” Pansy asked, kneeling next to her.
Hermione grabbed Pansy’s arms, struggling to get out of the water. Hermione felt like she
was being dragged down again. She couldn’t speak, and neither she could breathe. It was the
lake all over again. Cold. Suffocating.
Someone vanished the water in the tub, Hermione guessed it was Daphne, as Hermione was
still holding Pansy in a furious grip. “It's all right Hermione,” Daphne said and wrapped a
towel around Hermione’s naked body. Hermione vaguely noticed the girl stepping into the tub
and draping her own body around Hermione. “We've got you. You are with us.”
Something passed in Pansy’s green eyes. Hermione was still looking at them, she noticed they
were almost the exact shade of Harry’s green. How curious. Pansy leaned in and tried to hug
Hermione, it was awkward because she was still holding onto Pansy and the girl couldn’t
move her arms to wrap around Hermione, so she had settled for resting her chin against
Hermione’s shoulder.
“I'm so sorry Hermione,” Pansy murmured in her ear, “I'm so sorry this happened to you.”
Slowly, she felt her panic receding, she could let go of Pansy. Her entire body was shaking,
she realised. Hermione blinked fast, trying to remove the memories. When it didn’t work, she
Occluded. Hermione sagged against the two girls.
“Let's get you out of here and warmed up on your bed,” Daphne said and with Pansy’s help,
pulled Hermione from the tub.
They helped her get dressed and if Hermione was a bit more attuned, she’d feel embarrassed
about the whole thing, but not she was just immensely glad for the pair.
“Thank you,” she mumbled, as Pansy helped to get a big, warm sweater over her head. It
smelled like Draco.
“Let's go to bed.” It was Pansy’s reply.
Hermione froze once more when they returned to the room because their windows were to the
lake and she could see fish swimming by. Merpeople had never swam past it, they wouldn’t
start now, would they?
“Come,” Daphne cajoled and without asking, got into Hermione's bed and pulled Hermione
to do the same.
“What—”
“You are purple Hermione, and your teeth are chattering, I’m sleeping with you so you
remember that you are not alone at the bottom of the lake.”
Hermione could cry. She just nodded and sighed in relief when Daphne cuddled her. Pansy
sighed, “the things I do for you.” She said and Hermione vaguely remembered that it wasn’t
the first time Pansy had said that.
The bed enlarged a bit to fit Pansy and the three squeezed in the small bed.
“I will close the curtains,” Tracey told them at the foot of Hermione’s bed.
“Thank you. All of you.”
“We've got you.”
And just like that, she fell asleep.
Hermione was spiralling. That Severus noticed on the first day after the task. She would often
space out and then begin shivering as if the heating charms on the castle had suddenly
stopped working. Hermione had taken to wearing her scarf and gloves inside as well as an
extra jumper under the cloak. Her friends all kept close and exchanged worried glances that,
for once, Hermione’s alert eyes didn’t catch. They had also taken to conjure the girl’s blue
fire to give her extra heating.
Severus knew that the entire thing had been Barty’s doing. He just wished that he could prove
it. It was impossible that his potion had been manipulated. He had kept the liquid under
heavy wards and kept it inside his bedroom, where no one had ever gone inside.
Barty had done something else. Maybe he had cast something on Hermione when he went to
get her? He knew that Barty was very skilled in non-verbal spells and that Moody’s cane had
magical abilities. Severus had seen the Auror - the real one - cast spells with it. He wouldn’t
put past Barty to have also learned how to cast with it. Hermione would have been none the
wiser.
But still, he didn’t have any proof.
Severus still didn’t know what Barty’s plan was, but found that he didn’t particularly care. He
wanted the man gone, properly dead and buried. He still didn’t know why the man had put
Harry’s name on the goblet, it seemed unlikely that the goal was to get Harry killed by
putting the boy through dangerous situations when the man kept helping Harry through the
tasks.
And clearly, the man had no qualms about getting Hermione killed either, or greatly
traumatised.
As the days passed and Severus saw the circles under Hermione’s eyes getting darker and
darker and her questions in class becoming fewer and fewer until the moment they
completely stopped. The change got the professors talking and even led Minerva to comment
on how ‘Mr Potter seemed to be improved greatly during classes while Hermione seemed
unmotivated and distracted.’ He knew Potter’s improvement had to due with his new ability
to properly read the board and follow the instructions. And Hermione wasn’t unmotivated or
distracted, no she was barely sleeping and possibly occluding everything.
That had to stop. Especially because as he walked around the class, checking their potions,
he saw Hermione dozing off and adding an extra scarab beetle in her Skele-Gro potion which
would have terrible results.
“Miss Granger,” he called, his voice strict in a way that made not only her jump but had the
Gryffindors wincing.
She blinked up to him, probably willing the fog in her mind to dissipate. “Yes, professor?”
“Remember me how many Scarab beetles are used in a Skele-Gro potion.”
Her eyes widened and she seemed to realise what she had done. A tear escaped and she
muttered a series of ‘oh god, oh god, oh god’ “Five Sir, I’m sorry Professor, I don’t know
what came over me, I’m terribly sorry.”
It was complete silence in the classroom, Mr Longbottom had gasped as if the possibility of
Hermione making a mistake had seemed unfeasible until now.
“You should be paying attention while brewing. Five points from Slytherin for the mistake.”
He called and low murmuring came from the Gryffindors. “So you will remember exactly
how many Scarab beetles are used in a Skele-Gro potion."
Hermione drew her shoulders in and blinked again, as more tears threatened to escape. “I'm
sorry professor. I’m going to start again and brew it properly this time.” She told him.
“See that you do.” He replied.
The class resumed in silence, the only noise in the classroom was of stirring and chopping.
Thankfully, there were no more mistakes and Severus could resume his pacing around the
class and keep the sibling-watching.
“That will be all for today,” he said when there were still five minutes to the end of the class.
His announcement was met with twenty pairs of widened eyes. Severus had never finished a
class early, he was well aware of that. In his classroom, there was no foolish packing
beforehand. “Bottle up your potions and leave them at your desk. Miss Granger, if you could
stay behind.”
More murmuring. Severus wanted to roll his eyes, honestly, it wasn’t like he favoured
Hermione. Much.
He had his back turned, but he caught Mr Nott quiet, “talk to him," that he assumed it was to
Hermione. Severus turned and waited for everyone to fill out before addressing his daughter.
He motioned her forward and she sat down on the chair in front of his desk.
“I have noticed you haven’t been quite yourself in these past few days, Miss Granger.” He
said.
Hermione fiddled with her fingers. She mumbled something under her breath and Severus
couldn’t catch it.
“What did you say?” He asked.
“How could you do it, professor?” Hermione asked, for once, she was looking at him and her
gaze almost broke his heart. His daughter looked… broken.
“I don’t understand.” He told her.
“The potion. Why did you give me a potion that didn’t work?”
He felt his own eyes widening. “Is that what you think?” He asked. Did his daughter really
think that he was capable of doing such a thing?
“You said it. In the note. From now on, it’s all an act. I figured that—”
“Stop.” He cut her off, “I didn’t manipulate any potion and even if I had, I wouldn’t give it to
you.” He most certainly would have given it to Mr Weasley for all his big mouth had to say to
his daughter. “I don’t know how it happened, but it wasn’t me.”
Hermione shrugged, “I guess that doesn’t really matter. Do you know how hard it is to live in
the dungeons in an aquarium-like bedroom when you can’t stand the sight of the water or
submerge your body?” She asked, her face haunted. “Sometimes I think I’m still there.”
Severus would be the one to kill Barty and he would enjoy it.
“You are not in the lake anymore,” he told her. “I’m certain that his entire ordeal has been
Crouch’s doing and once I can prove it, I will make him pay for what he’s done.” He
promised. “I'm sorry, Hermione.”
“You just said it’s not your fault. You don’t need to apologise.”
He shook his head slightly, “I do. I should have done more. I should have kept you from the
task or should have gone to check on all of you after the potion had been administrated.”
Hermione gave a little snort. “You are the best Potion Master in Europe, sir.” She told him,
“you have no reason to double-check your own brewing.”
“It's not an excuse to become complacent.” She nodded and looked away. Severus was quite
aware that words wouldn’t change her situation now. “I can help you,” he offered and that
caught her attention. “I've noticed that you are occluding your trauma. I can teach you better
ways to cope. Healthy ways.”
Her eyes filled with tears again, Severus wanted to scoop her into his arms. “Would you do
it, sir?”
“Yes, Hermione.”
She nodded, “thank you.”
“I will give you a Sleeping Draught, so you can finally have a good night's sleep without
worrying about nightmares. Then you can meet me in my office at seven tomorrow. I believe
it’s better to work it through your memories and feelings in the early morning when the day’s
worries haven’t caught up to you yet.”
“Thank you.”
“Don't thank me, Hermione. It’s my obligation to you.” He said. I should be doing more, he
wanted to add.
Severus decided that he could start by telling Dumbledore the truth about who was really
teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts to the children.
Chapter End Notes
The title and the quote at the beginning belong to 5 by Sleeping At Last.
Please let me know in the comments what you think!
Btw, is anyone going to see Harry in Stockholm on Wednesday? If so, see you there!!
past all the signs of the slow decline
Chapter Notes
First of all, I'm so immensely sorry about taking so long to post an update. I had a sort of
writer's block. I mean sort of because I was still writing for this fic but nothing that came
directly after the previous chapter.
Anyway, this chapter is very long because I'm wrapping it up year 4 soon and I didn't
want to drag the in-between of tasks for many more chapters and I realised just how
much plot related loose ends we have at the moment, so I tried to stitch all up in this
chapter so I could do the much needed time jump to get things where they have to be.
Again, I'm so sorry!! and I really hope that I can get back on track with posting it soon!
This fic is not and is not going to be abandoned.
Warning: this is nota beta-ed because I knew it would take me another day or two to do
it and I wanted to post it today. so any mistakes you find, don't worry I will eventually
remove them in the upcoming week.
wake up to the sound of your fleeting heart

when you go, what you leave is a work of art
on my chest, on my heart
and my love is yours, but your love is not mine
Chapter Thirty Six
The castle was silent at seven in the morning and the only noise was the sound of her shoes
on the millennial stones. It hadn’t been hard waking up that early on a Saturday, because she
had tossed and turned until three and then woke up from a nightmare at five forty-five, which
led her to forgone sleep for the night. Or early morning.
Professor Snape was already waiting for her when she arrived. “Tea?” He offered and she
shook her head. Professor Snape motioned that she sat in one of the chairs in front of his desk
and he sat on the other one, turning both so they’d be facing one another. “What do you see
when you occlude?” He asked.
“The library at Malfoy Manor.” She replied and the potions professor’s face twitched. She
could swear he was holding back a smile. “I hide my memories in book pages and then
shelve them.”
“Where are you shelving the memories of the lake?”

“I’m not.” She replied, “I burn the books.”
He shook his head. “Close your eyes and clear your mind,” he instructed. “Imagine that you
are in the Malfoy Manor, but not in the library yet. You’ve just arrived at the foyer.”
Hermione nodded and did just that. “You are holding an empty book, it’s thin but there are no
words in it, nothing.” She could see it. It’s not a tome or the books she sometimes check out
in the library, it looks like a notebook, like those floppy muggle notebooks. “You have started
your walk through the manor, you know exactly how to get there the quickest way, but you
decide to take the long route, through the ballroom and the conservatory. Each memory, each
moment that you want to put away is written in a different room.” Inside her head, Hermione
finds a flat surface in each room she enters and write down. The cold, the numbness, the
pressure. “Once you are done, you finally get to the library and it’s huge, it’s your favourite
place.” She could feel her lips quirking up. Professor Snape was right. There was no place
she liked better than that library. “Think on how much you love it there, how the sun turns the
armchairs emerald, how the light catches half of a page when you sit near the window. You
have to turn that book into something small, insignificant. Otherwise, it’s like reading in
twilight, you strain more at each moment and yet, it gets harder and harder and suddenly you
find yourself only trying to read but not absorbing a single word, you just think on how you
can’t get through that page.”
“What do I do?” She asked, her voice small and she was already frowning, no adjusting of
her position or angling of her body for better lighting was helping.
“Stop reading it. Tear up the pages one by one. Once the book is nothing more a handful of
loose pages you go toward the shelves and run your fingers through the spines of the books
there. Hide the pages inside them. Hide them randomly, no pattern, no category, just close
your eyes and pull each book from their places, tuck each page inside them and put those
books back. Let them go and don’t try to find them.” He instructed and then grew silent, she
knew he was waiting for her, while she navigated through the many aisles and sections and
picked books at random. And it was perfect, because she knew she could navigate the Malfoy
library with her eyes closed and even in her head she didn’t stumble. And almost like he
knew she had finished, he spoke again, “Now leave the library and close the door behind you.
Go back through the way you came and close every door you pass through. Don’t leave a
single door open.”
Hermione opened her eyes once she finished and she felt her cheeks blushing upon looking at
her Head of house. He looked so goddamned proud. She wished he would award her points.
“Very good Hermione.” He praised her instead and the points didn’t matter, not when a praise
coming from him was like a hundred points for Slytherin.
“Why burning them wasn’t helping?” She asked him.
“Because dark thoughts are like phoenixes. They rise from the ashes, each time stronger and
bolder.” He replied. “I want you to try this exercise by yourself before going to bed. Or
whenever you feel like your thoughts are against you.”
“All right.”
Professor Snape seemed to hesitate just a bit before continuing, “Come back on Monday, we
will do it together again until you can find a path that is shorter and more efficient. Now you
are just keeping it from yourself, but there might come a time where you find yourself in
front of a Legillimens and you can’t take a detour in your mind, you have to be rapid and
ready. Posed for an attack.”
“Like a snake.”
“Yes.” He replied.
After four years of lessons, she had learned the many ways in which his tone indicated
dismissal. “Thank you, Professor.” She said and began to get on her feet.
He nodded and watched her leave.
Checking her watch, Hermione noticed that the whole exercise had taken longer than she
realised. Time passed different when one was so deeply inside their mind. Maybe that’s why
Professor Snape suggested that she find a quicker path, she couldn’t rely on an hour and a
half trek through the manor. She decided to think of a different mind route on her way to
breakfast.
She sat down next to Theo and in front of Draco, which extracted a glare from Vince.
Hermione could only feel pity. Some people could strive to be so… small. “I hope you are
getting on with all your essays and homework without me giving you the skeleton and
proofreading them.” She told him as she began to spread jam in her toast. Vince didn’t reply.
But she saw his cheeks reddening while he chewed on the chicken leg.
Honestly, it was half past eight in the morning.
“Where were you?” Blaise asked.
“Decided to have an early start.” She replied. Hermione knew better than to disclosure her
meeting with their Head of House. And because she couldn’t help herself, Hermione slid her
foot towards Draco’s under the table. His face didn’t show anything, but he linked his leg
with hers. He was right there, but she missed him.
“It’s a Saturday. You are absolutely insane.” Blaise told her and she chuckled.
“Not all of us are the kings of laziness.” She replied jokingly and he faked offence. “I decided
to spend the day reading among the comfort of pillows while lying on a very soft rug.” She
said and pressed her leg against Draco’s. Trying to pass the message. He pressed back
“Absolutely insane.” Blaise mumbled again, but went back to his cereal.
Draco left the Great Hall first and the pointed look he gave her was enough. She knew he’d
be there at the Astronomy Tower waiting for her. In order to not raise suspicion, she
entertained Daphne and Pansy as they showed Hermione Witch Weekly’s article on fashion
trends. Hermione was quite enjoying Pansy planning outfits to follow the grunge trend as she
knew quite well that most of it was thrifted. Hermione doubted that the girl knew the
meaning of the word.
She could offer to take them shopping in muggle London during the summer. It could be fun
if both girls would be willing to step through the muggle exit on the Leaky Cauldron.
Fifteen minutes seemed enough and she excused herself from the table. From the smirk the
others threw at her, it was clear that all of their group knew exactly where she was going.
Leaning between Theo and Blaise, she whispered, “Cover for us, okay?”
“Always, my darling.” It was Blaise’s reply.
Hermione didn’t run because she wasn’t that desperate, but she did quickened her steps as she
got closer to the tower. Draco was waiting by the door, still concealed from view as he
casually leaned next to it. If someone were to appear at the Astronomy Tower at half past
nine in the morning, it would seem like he was merely looking at the view below and beyond.
“Hey,” she greeted and he turned to face her, a small smile taking form on his face.
“Hey yourself,” he said and moved to right the slightly crooked painting of the sky that hid
the opening. Draco quickly pressed his ring to the hole and the door opened. “After you.” He
said and she smiled.
Hermione got rid of her jacket and her shoes, placing them by the door and Draco did the
same. She had barely taken two steps into the room when she felt his arms circling around
her and his front pressing against her back. Her face heated up. “Draco…”
“I don’t like it.” He muttered against her hair, “I don’t like how everyone seems to have a say
on what we do.”
Hermione circled in his arms so she could face him, she put her hands on his chest and ran
them up to his collarbone and to the back of her neck. “Me neither.”
They kissed, slow and languid and each time a bit more intense. Hermione was still a bit
timid in putting her tongue out and kissing him properly, but she was getting there. Draco
didn’t seem to mind as they both were exploring this whole thing together.
But Hermione was an avid learner and she had already learned many things so far, such as
how Draco liked when she buried her fingers in his soft hair at the back of his head, or how
he always made a delicious sound when she pressed her body against his, because it always
got him tugging her hips and squeezing her waist. She had also learned how he liked to
slowly trail his fingers up her sides and to her neck to hold her face as he kissed her and
Hermione liked that as well, because she always felt as something precious in his hands.
They moved their kissing to the rug and she felt her cheeks burning at the look on his face
and the darkness on his eyes when she laid her head against one of the many cushions and her
hair splayed around her. Draco seemed fascinated and he propped up on his side and kept
playing with her curls and lifting them to the light, “caramel, gold, honey.” He said, “the
morning sun paints your hair something wondrous.”
She tried to hide in embarrassment, sometimes Draco would sprout something ridiculously
romantic and she had no idea what to do with herself. Of course, he didn’t let her hide and
removed her hand from her face, lowering it to her chest and keeping it there, their fingers
entwined.
Draco leaned down and captured her lips again and she couldn’t help she soft gasp that
escaped her when his entire body pressed down against her. It was like every part of him was
touching her, but she knew it was a lie, she knew she could draw him much closer if she so
wished. Their legs slotted together and the hand not currently holding his went to the collar
of his shirt. Very slowly, very careful, she felt him letting go of her hand and she knew he
was taking his time so Hermione could argue if she wanted, but her racing heart and the
butterflies on her stomach could only make her keep kissing him as his now free hand
sprawled on her stomach.
Hermione would have to check later the place where Draco’s handed touched her, because
she felt like burning, even over the clothes. When he moved his hand lower, closer to the hem
of her shirt, she arched her neck and his lips found the skin there, “it’s like an aubade” he
murmured on her skin and she gasped and embarrassingly enough she felt her legs spreading
a bit more without her conscious thought. No matter, Draco just positioned himself better on
top of her.
“I feel like you are going to be very bad to my grades,” she said once the kisses on her throat
turned into licks and sucks. Her voice was unrecognisable to her ears, “as I can’t seem to find
a better thing to do than to stay here with you.”
Merlin, she could feel his smirk on her skin, her body shivered in response to that. “I believe
we have the same conundrum.” She chuckled a bit and he removed his face from her neck to
look at her, “why are you laughing?”
“You use your aristocracy words when you are…” she trailed off, not knowing how to
continue. Turned on? Excited?
He seemed to follow her own thoughts. “Boundlessly enraptured with you?” He suggested
and she laughed again, this time more openly.
Hermione looked at him and she knew that there was only adoration in her expression, she
didn’t care, not when she felt like looking at him was looking at a mirror.
She took the opportunity to trail her fingers on his face, the slope of his nose, the corners of
his lips, the curve of his cheekbone and the light hair on his eyebrows. He was so
unbelievably beautiful to her.
“I'm worried about you.” He told her, “I don’t think you’ve been sleeping well.”
“I'm not,” she told him. “but I’m working on it.” Hermione told him of her meeting today and
how they were going to keep working on it. She wanted to capture the exact expression he
had when she told him how her mind palace was his library.
“Do you still feel cold?” He asked her and ran his hands up and down her arms.
“Not anymore,” she replied, “only if I get nightmares about it.” And she added, “right now I
feel very warm.”
“I have to find a way through the spell keeping boys out of the girl’s dorm,” he told her,
mischief and second intentions clear in his eyes, “so I can keep you warm then.”
“Pansy would kick you out so fast, though.” Hermione joked and Draco groaned.
“It's not fair.” Draco grumbled and laid down next to her, so both of their backs were on the
rug. Hermione didn’t like it, so she curled next to him, resting her head on his chest. “Blaise
and Theo keep sneaking into each other’s beds now and I have an inkling of what they are
doing when they cast silencing spells.”
Hermione snorted, but frowned, “Do Vince and Greg know?”
“No. But they are not being very subtle, I think they want them to catch them and say
something. Almost like they are daring them.”
“Well, if I end up in your bed then we can improve their odds.”
Draco laughed and began to twirl his index finger in her curls, “I received a very long and
wordy talking from Uncle Sev about me entertaining any thoughts about that.”
Hermione felt her cheeks flaming again. Merlin, their professor was Draco’s godfather, she
kept forgetting that. She was going to work extra hard on her occluding so the man wouldn’t
find incriminating things on her mind. Not that he had indicated that there would be any mind
reading during their sessions but, just in case.
Draco and Hermione did end up reading a bit, but they did so still drapped on one another,
she sat between his legs with her back on his chest and they enjoyed the morning sun in
companionable silence.
Severus was halfway to the headmaster’s office but still he had his doubts. The old man was
responsible for the safety of the castle and the students, but safety had always seemed flimsy
with the man. Like Dumbledore used a different dictionary to get the meaning of the word,
probably the same one Hagrid used for words like ‘dangerous' and ‘appropriate for class’.
But even then, things were going too far. Severus rolled with Quirrell because the man wasn’t
actually harming the students, the same thing with the others that followed. But between
having a weakened Voldemort at the back of a teacher’s head and having a raging psychopath
Death Eater in a teacher’s body, well, Severus would take Quirrell again. Gladly.
After an entire week of tutoring with Hermione and realising just how deeply upset she had
been by the events of the lake, he knew it would be on his hands if he allowed Barty to roam
around the castle unknown.
But Hermione was progressing greatly during their encounters, it was clear now how
Narcissa had a somewhat easy time teaching the girl Occlumency. Hermione wasn’t a natural
as Theodore - or how Draco would be once properly instructed - but she could draw her
strength exactly from where most people would consider a weakness for Occlumency. She
felt too much. Hermione was no bleeding heart Gryffindor, no, but her small, unwavering
pack bequeathed loyalty in a way that enabled her with a laser sharp focus to do everything in
her power to keep them safe. It was in this love, this devotion that they were hiding her
memories, her sorrows.
Voldemort could open closed doors, he wouldn't mind going through hundreds of them, but it
was Greengrass’ warm hugs, Parkinson’s loud stringent laughter, Nott’s looks of adoration,
Zabini’s promises and Draco's love that Voldemort wouldn’t bear to look.
It didn’t surprise him that Narcissa hadn’t seen this way to approach the girl’s mind, it was
after all, Severus’ awareness of Lily’s immense ability to love that clued him on what he
could do. But it was an overwhelming discovery, because it was one more thing of Lily’s that
he thought he had lost forever.
Another discovery, however, was much more chilling and helped them to fill all the gaps in
the events of the second task. They had realised how Barty had poised Hermione. It wasn’t
on his potions, it was in the food that Winky, the Crouch family personal elf, delivered.
The small creature despite being ‘set free’ by Mr Crouch still felt compelled to obey their
former master and was very glad to serve tampered food to the students.
The last thing they needed was a Hogwarts elf that didn’t belong to the castle and had no
problems following Death Eater’s orders.
He knocked at the door, in a measly attempt of politeness and was surprised to see that the
headmaster wasn’t alone.
“Severus, what do I owe you the visit?” He greeted. Severus paid attention to Moody, or
Barty as it was, sitting in one of the chairs in front of the headmaster’s desk. He looked
comfortable, the bastard. Severus had to recognise, it was an extremely genius plan, because
he doubted there were that many people that had Dumbledore’s trust the way Alastor Moody
had. Barty would have no trouble getting things out of Dumbledore, not like Severus himself
had.
“I wish to speak with you.” He said,
“Of course, of course. Do you care for tea? Or some biscuits.” Dumbledore offered and
pointed to the empty chair beside Moody.
“In private.” He replied. Not bothering to avoid the pointed look to Barty's direction.
The impostor barked a laugh that was so insufferably similar to the Auror’s that Severus
wondered exactly how long this plan had been on the making. “Don't worry boy, I’m not
spilling your secrets.”
The ‘boy was grating, but he let it roll off his shoulders, it was much easier to not let his
anger take over now that he knew it was annoying little Barty Jr. not Moody. Maybe he
should pretend to be a bit angry with the comment. So he glared at the man, “Even so.” It was
Severus’ reply.
He remained in place, looking at Dumbledore with an expression that clearly indicated that
he had no intention of speaking again unless the other man left.
Dumbledore sighed, as if Severus was being particularly difficult. He didn’t care. “Let's
resume later than Alastor, it is quite a lovely day to be inside after all.” The headmaster said.
And as ‘kicking out’ went, this one was very neat.
“Of course,” Barty replied, “See you Albus. Professor Snape.”
Severus glared to his face and then to his back until the man closed the door behind him. And
then he cast a few anti-spying spells so the man wouldn’t overhear them. He made sure that
the door was also properly warded against creepy glass eyes.
Dumbledore hummed at Severus’ measures, “you need to trust more your colleagues
Severus.”
“He's not my colleague.” Severus replied, “and he’s not who you think he is.”
“Don't be like that now,” he said with a smile, “I'd like to believe that given my many years
in this world, I’d be able to assess other people’s intentions.”
Severus didn’t say that the man’s immense ego usually kept him from properly assessing
anything. “It may be so,” he said instead, “But that man is not Alastor Moody.” He said,
finally. Dumbledore’s white eyebrow shot up in curiosity.
“How so?”
“I've told you that my stocks have been sacked, some particular ingredients stolen. My
thoughts on someone on polyjuice inside the castle.”
“And you assume it’s Alastor Moody.” Dumbledore said, amusement in his tone, as if
Severus was just reeling a particularly silly joke.
“I'm not assuming anything.” He said, crossly. “I know. I wouldn’t have come to you unless I
had absolutely certainty of my claims.”
“Well my boy, you will have yo walk me through your thought process. As I believe your
claim to be too far-fetched for me to simply follow you.” He said and then added with a
chuckle, “not to mention that I’ve been in close quarters with Alastor quite many times this
year and I assure you I’ve been talking with the man not some pretender under polyjuice.”
Severus scowled. “That’s because Barty Jr. is exceedingly good at lying.”
“Barty Jr. is dead.”
“He is currently teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts to your students.” He snapped. “I
had guessed something was amiss after a particularly specific comment he made, but I got the
confirmation from the Map.” Narcissa had been actually the one to make the jump, but that
particular addendum wouldn’t help him get his point across.
“The map?” Albus asked, “You don’t mean to tell me you have taken Harry’s map, now have
you?”
Severus scowled. “Lesser man would be offended on how you think so low of them.” He
said, “I didn’t take the boy’s map, because it also belongs to his sister and she was the one to
bring it to me after she saw Barty Crouch’s name where Alastor Moody should have been.”
There. The glint of something. The curiosity and the doubt. How rare and astonishing it must
be, for man like him to have to admit an error. “What did he say to arouse your suspicion?”
Dumbledore asked.
"He said, ‘go back to bed Severus, lest you start crying on your knees.’ And as you still stand
in front of me breathing, I know he didn’t get that from you.”
“Surely it couldn’t have been simply a comment to provoke you?”
“The real Alastor might not trust me, but even him wouldn’t go so far when I’m still a faculty
member.” Severus replied, “But you keep missing the point Albus, my beliefs are irrelevant
when I had confirmation with my own eyes.” He said, exasperation taking residence in his
tone. “Harry saw it first and told his sister, he lent the map to her and she too saw it, which is
how I came to be aware of his whole farce, because she came to me.” He explained, “and
since they are unaware of the existence of Barty Crouch Jr. they simply assumed the map
implied Crouch Sr. who’s supposed to be too sick to go to work, leaving us to bear the
unbearable Percy Weasley, because apparently, seven years weren’t enough.”
“Now Severus, don’t talk like this about your former students.” Severus rolled his eyes.
“Curious.” Dumbledore added, “I still find myself struggling to accept this information.”
Because you are a massive prick who only believe in the words that come out of your own
mouth “However, if it is true that Barty Jr. is currently inhibiting the body of Alastor Moody,
he’s doing it to perfection.”
“He's probably holding the real Alastor hostage close to him, not only to acquire hair for the
potion but to consult with the man as much as necessary. Barty wasn’t no beginner in
Legilimency then, I believe he had plenty of time to practice during the time he was supposed
to be in Azkaban.”
“Indeed. I imagine you also have discovered how that feat managed to happen?” Severus
nodded and shared his thoughts with the headmaster, who for once listened without
interrupting. “We don’t have proof,” Dumbledore said in the end.
“What do you mean?” Severus asked, honestly flabbergasted, “there’s the map.”
Albus looked at him like Severus had been immensely stupid, “if the map were to become
known to the Ministry it would be considered an illegal object as quick as a blink and taken
from them.” He explained, “And besides, it is an unknown object therefore its origins can’t
be assessed.”
“Three out of four creators are alive,” Severus snapped, “two are one floo call away,” he
added. Now that Sirius had been briefed on their findings, Severus thought it would be a
good idea if the man actually pulled his weight for once in his life.
“It can’t be used.” Dumbledore said. His tone indicating that this was final.
Severus had a mad wish to make it the man’s final words.
“And the elf?” Severus asked, “it can’t continue to work in the castle. We don’t know how
many other requests Barty might give. The elves have unrestricted access in the castle. It
would be very easy for Winky to do some harm if Barty so wished.”
“I agreed. But I also don’t believe she’d do it without suffering from the huge conscience that
elves seem to carry.” Severus only scowled, “She is however still employed by the castle and
therefore there’s magic working to keep them from actively hurting the students. I’m certain
she didn’t have full knowledge of her actions.”
“Then what?” He asked, patience wearying thin. “We do nothing?”
“We keep a close eye on Barty. After all, he hasn’t tried to hurt Harry yet.”
Severus exploded, “he hurt Hermione!” His voice thundering and he felt his own arm lashing
out in outrage.
Albus just looked at him and that annoying glint of his eyes managed to only further his rage.
“I see,” Albus spoke.
“I’m the one that sees it.” He snarled, his voice back to a dangerous low. “You care only
about Harry, you don’t care about what happens to her or if she’s caught between fire, as long
as she’s around to protect him, her own safety is meaningless to you.” He spat.
“Oh Severus,” Albus said, almost as if he pitied him, like Severus was something silly for
caring about her. “She matters to you.” He said and Severus managed to not roll his eyes at
the sheer obviousness of the statement. “You care for her.”
Severus wouldn’t address any of that. “She’s a child. She’s not a piece in your game and she’s
definitely not her brother’s shield.” He said and his voice carried a threat that Albus wasn’t
aware of just how much Severus was willing to see it through.
“There are no pieces Severus, the war is not a game.”
“Then do something about the Death Eater on your payroll.” He barked.
Albus had the gall to smile, “he wouldn’t be the first.”
It felt like a slap. Like all these years, all his work had been stepped on and used as a
doormat. Like he had never amounted to anything other than the mark on his arm.
Severus glared at the man, “I’ve never attempted to kill a student and be aware Albus, before
the year is done we will have a casualty among us and the blood will be in your hands.” He
told the man. “I know Barty and he’s mad as he’s sane and he won’t be deterred to escalate.”
Albus remained in silence and Severus had had enough. He turned when the headmaster
moved to open his mouth. He didn’t care and wasn’t going to listen.
Albus would see the real Alastor Moody dead and Severus almost wished the man survived
so he could tell the former Auror just how much Albus Dumbledore was willing to bargain
with other people’s lives for what he wanted.
Severus left the headmaster’s office and his terrible mood was clear to anyone who crossed
his path. He managed to remove 35 points from three different houses on his way to his own
office.
If Dumbledore wouldn’t do anything, Severus was going to go after people who would.
Theo Nott was in an oddly good mood for a Monday morning, specially as he strolled inside
the Transfiguration classroom for the class they shared with the Gryffindors.
Professor McGonagall was already standing at the front of the room. She didn’t like having
to teach both of them together, and like always, Hermione wondered why their schedule
insisted on pairing the two houses.
Hermione sat next to Daphne, with Theo and Blaise in front of them and Draco and Pansy
behind them. Harry and Weasley were on the other row and Lavender, the name of the girl
who had made that unnecessary comment to her and Theo, was in front of Harry with Patil in
front of Weasley.
The class started without a hitch, but Hermione couldn’t help but feel that there was
something brewing. Theo’s chaotic energy seemed to be pulsing. It was clear that her lessons
with Professor Snape were paying off, because she could once again not only focus on class
but to keep her mind clear and alert for when her friends started behaving oddly.
And half an hour in, after Professor McGonagall had finished her explanations and was doing
rounds around the classroom observing their attempts, it happened.
Theo was smirking when he threw the paper ball at Harry, who turned so abruptly that
Hermione swore she could hear his neck snapping. Theo raised his brows and grinned and
Harry’s glare disappeared in exchange to a smirk of his own.
“What you—” Weasley began, but Harry put a hand on his friend’s arm, quieting him.
As if right on cue, Pansy called out to Weasley, “what an ugly nose!” She said, and Hermione
frowned, that was so basic coming from her that Hermione figured whatever this was, had
been poorly planned.
“Miss Parkinson!” Professor McGonagall chastised.

“I know I shouldn’t be calling out people’s ugliness but professor, I can’t work when his ugly
nose keeps poking my business.” Pansy replied, her facetiousness hitting the roof.
“Miss Parkinson!” The professor replied the same moment Weasley opened his mouth.
“Keep your bloody ugly mouth shut!”
“Mr Weasley!” She turned to reproach the boy and Hermione gasped, because right in front
of her Theo had put both hands on Blaise’s neck and pulled.
Blaise, of course, went willing and Daphne squealed as they started making out in front of
them.
Chaos broke out and Draco snorted so loudly that Hermione hoped he hadn’t dislodged
anything. Most of the class was cheering, the Gryffindor girls seemed equally outraged and
excited. Finnigan did what he knew best and cast a few fireworks on top of them. Vince made
a disgusted sound and threw a book at the boys, Hermione had the quick mind to banish the
book with a wave of her wand.
Professor McGonagall was simply speechless. She seemed to be unable to work words out of
her mouth for a good ten seconds before finally separating both boys with a spell that literally
sent Theo crashing to Harry’s side. And Weasley to the floor. He spluttered from where he
had fallen and Pansy threw her head back and laughed so joyously that Hermione felt herself
laughing along.
“What on Merlin’s name were you thinking!” Their professor shrieked, giggling ran around
the classroom. “This is a classroom! A learning space!”
“They were learning each other’s mouth.” The boy next to Finnigan said between chuckles,
Dean Thomas.
That comment set another wave of laughter and McGonagall shut them all up with a Silencio.
“I am truly appalled by such behaviour and have never seen such appalling display since—”
she stopped and by the quick glance in Harry’s direction Hermione knew exactly who had
been the last owner of appalling display.
Harry was sniggering, he probably had come to the same conclusion.
“Ten points from Slytherin from each of you!” She called, and after catching Harry still
trying to contain his laughter, added, “And five from Gryffindor for enabling such
performance!”
“Honestly Professor, it strikes me as a little bit homophobic.” Daphne commented and they
all watched their professor’s cheeks turn various shade of red.
“I assure you Miss Greengrass, don’t let my age fool you, I’d be the last to behave so poorly
as to partake in homophobia, but as I’m sure you are well aware, there are proper places for
such— intimacy and I won’t have students, regardless of their preferences kissing in my
classroom!”
Another snort and Hermione wondered how far down on Possible Things to Happen in a
Classroom these past ten minutes had been on McGonagall’s list.
“Mr Nott and Mr Zabini be well assured that this will be passed on to your head of house and
to your respective parents.”
Theo seemed to smile even more, “Be sure that it gets to my father professor, I’d be terribly
sorry if such poor behaviour of mine would escape his knowledge.” He said, looking not a
single bit repentant.
Hermione shook her head. He had promised a performance, hadn’t he? At least he hadn’t
used Harry’s cloak or chosen to make out in the Great Hall. She admitted that for Theo’s
intentions, Transfiguration was the best option indeed. If he wanted Harry to be present - the
ball throw was an indicator - he could have done so in Potions, but they all knew Professor
Snape wouldn’t write to Nott Sr, not when they knew exactly what Theo’s dad could do. And
thankfully, they didn’t share any other class with Gryffindor besides Potions and
Transfiguration.
McGonagall was so blinded by the absurdity of the situation that she merely nodded firmly
and set to change the pairs. She wouldn’t have Blaise and Theo anywhere near the other.
Theo remained with Harry - and Hermione witnessed Harry nudging Theo’s arm and the pair
shared an amused smile -, Weasley was put with Daphne, while Hermione had to sit with
Blaise.
“The entire school will know by the end of the day,” Hermione whispered to Blaise.
Blaise nodded, “that was the intended goal.” He replied and pointed to Lavender and Parvati.
“Those two are the biggest gossipers in our year. We had this meticulously planned.
Pansy leaned on her desk to whisper between Hermione and Blaise, “not so meticulously,”
she complained, “I was merely told to cause chaos after the sign.”
“What was the sign?”
“The ball.” Blaise explained and Hermione looked at Harry and Theo, who were also
whispering.
“Why no one told me anything?” Hermione asked, slightly upset that they had left her out of
the plan.
“Because we know how seriously you take your learning. That’s why Theo waited for
McGonagall finish her explanation.”
Draco snorted and added, “So considerate.” He said and Blaise chuckled, but added what
Hermione knew he was dying to ask, “I am however curious on how Potter has taken to be
part of such plan. I’m still quite curious on that particular addition.”
It was Pansy’s turn to smirk. “I invited him.”

Merlin save them all.
He had Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott sat in front of him by the end of the day. The three
of them were missing dinner because Minerva had stormed inside the Teacher’s Office right
before the meal and berated Severus as if he had been the one responsible for it.
Neither boy looked the least worried. Or regretful.
“Surely you two could have found a better moment to express your feelings for one another?”
Severus asked.
“We have found plenty, Sir.” Zabini replied, “but that one was particularly special.”
Severus glared at the boy, then he turned to Nott, “if you wished to have your father learning
about your relationship you could simply have written to him.” He said.
“But Professor, can you imagine his absolute fury upon receiving a Hogwarts letter informing
him that I’ve been behaving improperly in class? I have no doubt that Professor McGonagall
refrained from writing exactly what I did. So now I will wait for a howler demanding to
know exactly how I'm embarrassing the Great House of Nott and will have the pleasure to
explain it to him.”
Severus let out a very long sigh, a couple of years went with it. “You seem to have given a lot
of thought to it.”
“The longest.” It was the boy’s reply, “the letter is written already. I’ve attached a picture.”
Zabini had the most disgusting smile on his face and Severus wanted this entire conversation
done lest they decided to partake in improper behaviour in his office.
It was possible - most likely the reason behind - that this whole thing had either Remus
Lupin's or Sirius Black's influence. Or both. Since the second task Severus had noticed how
Nott seemed a bit too friendly with the werewolf, as if they were in correspondence. After
everything that happened, the whole thing had slipped his mind, but he was going to
investigate it now.
“Mr Zabini,” Severus called, “please wait outside for a few moments. I want to have a word
in private with Mr Nott.”
“If you are going to remove more points from him Sir, let me know the amount so I can get
Hermione working on getting them back.” Zabini replied as he got up to leave.
“Please Mr Zabini, leave my office.” He said, his hand itching to press down on his temples,
he could feel a headache coming.
Nott waited for Zabini to close the door to speak again, “If you are going to lecture me on my
behaviour and how reckless it is to provoke my father like that, you can keep it to yourself
professor.
“I don’t waste my time on efforts that are doomed.” He replied. “But it’s something similar
that I want to talk to you.” He said, “But first I’d like to address the minds behind that plan of
yours. I’m guessing you had some canine influence as your actions were considerably
territorial.”
Nott grinned a bit, “I might have gotten some suggestions, yes Sir.”
“May I enquire why you are in correspondence with them?” Severus asked, he had already
established that he knew Lupin and Black were involved, he wouldn’t dance around the
subject any longer.
The boy looked a bit abashed before answering, “I was—difficult in the beginning of the
term.” He said, “Hermione knew what was troubling me and asked Remus to talk to me—
She guessed he might have encountered the same—situation, during his youth.”
What a meddling little girl. But yet, he knew Theodore needed some sort of guidance and -
Merlin forbid he say it out loud - Lupin would be the right person to approach it. Severus
knew how to outsource when things fell out of his range, he would never sit Nott or Zabini
down to talk about sexuality and acceptance as he was sure Minerva would with her students.
He doubted that he would go as far as recommend someone to his students, much less Lupin,
but he was at least contented to know that the boy had found someone to talk to. “Beyond
offering ridiculous ideas to torment Professor McGonagall, was he helpful?”
Nott chuckled, but nodded, “Yes, Sir. Remus has been actually great.” He said and it was
Severus turn to nod.
“You can trust him, Theodore.” He said.
“I know Sir, he speaks very highly of you.”
Severus had to control the urge to snort. He was certain that Lupin had several great things to
say about him.
“With that sorted out,” Severus said, hardening his tone once more. It always displeased him
immensely to talk about Nott Sr. “I have one more thing to tell you before I let you go. Your
father can’t touch you while you are here and he won’t have an opportunity to do so during
the summer because you are not going back to your Estate.” Theodore only nodded, “But, it
doesn’t change the fact that there is indeed a threat inside this castle that can cause you
harm.”
The boy frowned, “I can defend myself from any student here.”
“I’m certain.” He replied, “But I’m not referring to a student. I’m referring to the fact that
Alastor Moody is not who he says he is.” Severus told and watched as Theodore straightened
in the chair and all the boyness seemed to leave his body and instead he wore a maturity and
seriousness beyond his years.
“Hermione knows this, doesn’t she?” He asked, and once again, Severus was surprised by the
boy's quickness. He wondered vaguely, if given the right cues, Theo would be able to
discover the entire truth regarding Hermione.
“She does. It was her who brought the matter to me in the first place.” Severus told the boy.
“And as it stands, this I haven’t shared with her yet, but because you just made yourself a
very bright target, I believe it’s important to let you know that Barty Crouch Jr. is the person
teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts.” He said.
Theodore’s entire expression closed off. “He should be dead.” He said.
“As many other people.” Severus added. “But he isn’t. And you need to be careful around
him now. I don’t care what you have to do, but do avoid being alone with him. he’s not—”
Severus hesitated and memories of how absolutely disgusting Barty used to be to Black and
Lupin. Even him, who had all the reasons to hate the pair winced at some of the things the
boy used to say. When it was clear that neither Gryffindor cared, it had been all too easy for
Barty to turn on Regulus. “There are no limits to his hatred.”
The boy nodded, but the frown didn’t disappear. “If you know who he is, why haven’t you
told Dumbledore? Why is the man still here?”
It was Severus' turn to glare. “I have informed the Headmaster.” He replied, “but the
Headmaster seems to believe that it’s in our best interest to keep him close to learn his plans
than to have him sent to Azkaban from where he should have never left.”
The frown became a glare and then it turned into an expression of pure loathing. Severus
understood the feeling quite well. He watched as the boy worked through what certainly was
a turmoil in his mind. The boy had a sharp mind and an even sharper tongue so he waited for
the boy to finally keep the desire to lash out inside.
Severus said then, “There are eyes everywhere Mr Nott. That’s what I told Mr Malfoy. I have
no means to know what’s being passed to the Dark Lord or how much influence he has inside
the castle, but I can prepare you.” He said and he wouldn’t be like Dumbledore, he wouldn’t
make soldiers out of children, but he wouldn’t allow his students to be in the dark when they
deserved a chance to be anything but. “There's a war brewing Theodore, the cavalry is getting
ready and the targets have been chosen,” he paused and added with a sigh, “you are too close
to one of them.”
“They will come for her, won’t they?” The boy asked.
Severus gave a single nod. “And because of her, they will come for all of us.”
Once the boy closed the door behind him, Severus pulled two piece of parchment to write his
request for a meeting. Like he said, Severus would find people who’d do something.
He sent one to Lupin, being as courteous as including Black in the invitation, and another to
Narcissa, he only hoped she’d have enough tact to not bring Lucius along this time. Lucius
Malfoy and Sirius Black together was not something Severus ever wished to experience in
his life again.
They were almost halfway through March, which gave them three more months until the
final task and Severus was certain that Barty would save his next move for that. After all, it
was clear that he could get away with it undetected. But they would be prepared, he would
make sure that neither Hermione nor Harry would be prey to the man again.
Maybe there was a certain urgency in Severus’ letter, because the four of them met on the
next day at Lupin’s.
“Why haven’t you moved to Grimmauld Place?” It was Narcissa’s first question upon arrival.
“I spent enough time there for a lifetime,” Black replied. She didn’t say, but Severus was
pretty sure she found it disrespectful that he was ignoring the Noble House of Black in
Grimmauld Place like that.
“Narcissa, I guarantee that you won’t catch any fleas if you sit down,” Lupin said, motioning
to the sofa. It was actually a new one from the last time Severus had been here.
“I showered in the morning cousin,” Black said with a grin as he sat down.
Narcissa ignored and transfigured the armchair to her liking. Lupin only sighed.
No one offered him a seat. It was fine by him, he hadn’t come for pleasantries. “I will be
brief,” he said, “as I’m aware the current company is no one’s preference.” Black only huffed
and murmured something that thankfully, Severus didn’t catch. “I have informed Albus about
the true identity of Alastor Moody.” He told them, “but he decided to do nothing.”
“Expected.” Narcissa commented.
“Did he give you an explanation?” Lupin asked.
“He said we can’t prove, which is merely an excuse, he wishes to watch Barty for
Voldemort’s plans.”
“Since we can bloody well lock him into a room and wait for the polyjuice to wear down.”
Black retorted and Severus gave a very minimal sound of agreement.
“Barty can be hysterical,” Narcissa said after a sigh, “his only restraint is in the fact that he
doesn’t want to be found, we take this from him, there’s no guarantee that he won’t explode
his way out and kill whoever’s on his path.” Like he has done previously . She didn’t add, but
her tone was low and her voice distant, it was easy to know what was on her mind then.
There was silence after that, Black was looking at Narcissa in a way that seemed he was
seeing his cousin for the first time in years. Severus wouldn’t presuppose to know the Black
family dynamics, but he had heard from Regulus when they were still in school that there had
been a time where the two youngest Black sisters and the Black brothers were thick as
thieves. It seemed impossible, to even consider that each Black cousin currently at present
would have ever smiled at the other without a hint of cynicism.
“Do the kids know about Moody’s real identity?” Lupin asked.
“Theodore knows.” Severus replied, and watched as concern coloured Lupin’s face.
“Hermione and Harry still think it’s Crouch Sr.”
“Why does Theo know?” Lupin asked.
“Because he decided to follow your suggestion and divulge his relationship to his house.”
Severus replied, “very publicly.” He added.
Black snorted, no doubts planning to write a letter enquiring after all the details. Narcissa’s
expression grew sombre very quickly. “He made Regulus’ life a living hell when he couldn’t
get to you.” Narcissa said, her voice very cold. “And yet, you encourage a kid to do the same
thing you did when you are not even there to attempt to protect him?”
Severus exchanged a very quick look with Remus, it was never a good idea to bring Regulus
up. Remus opened his mouth to intervene, but Black beat him up to it, “Don’t talk about
Regulus.” He said, pain and anger in his tone. “Don't you dare talk about him as if you cared!
As if it hadn’t been you and your awful husband to lead him into your fold!” He exploded
and Narcissa shot him a frigid look.
“You know nothing Sirius Black, you abandoned him.” She said, “You went to James Potter
and never looked back,” Narcissa gave a very out of character scoff, “Even James bothered
more than you did.”
Lupin held Black’s arm and pulled him back when he made to get up and walk up to
Narcissa. “That's enough.” He said and glared at them both. “This is not why we are here.”
He said firmly, Severus just watched.
But he was curious though. Narcissa seemed to be fuming. Regulus wasn’t merely Sirius
Black soft spot, it was Narcissa’s as well. There was an accusation on her tone when she said
that he didn’t know anything, which implied that she knew. Severus wondered if she would
ever deem it worthy to fill them in.
Severus sighed, it wasn’t really likely. “Theodore is informed and he’s cautious. I won’t
allow anything to happen to him.” He said and with a sudden clarity realised that they had
just acquired another child into their care.
“I will write him as well,” Lupin said, because it wasn't uncomfortable enough to be aware
that they were willing to co-parent the boy, Lupin had to voice it too.
Black was still seething, so he didn’t say anything, but Narcissa seemed to have controlled
her anger out of spite of Sirius’. “What do you think about telling Hermione and Harry about
Barty?” She asked Severus.
“Hermione is getting better and better with her Occlumency, I believe she can hold her mind
against him,” he began, “but she does not believe Crouch Sr. is a threat to her brother, and
I’m sure she will believe otherwise if we tell her who the man pretending to be Moody really
is.”
“And Harry is too reckless.” Lupin added, which made Sirius growl, “he is and you know it.
He’s been meeting headfirst the people who have come after him, he’s not going to do any
different now.”
“It might be exactly what Barty is expecting,” Black conceded in the end. “Harry would go
after him. He wouldn’t sit and wait to see how things will play out.”
Narcissa made a frustrated noise, “Which is exactly what Dumbledore might be counting on.”
She said, “He knows that you don’t agree with his position on the matter, and he might even
go as far and think that you would tell Harry just to get your way.”
Severus felt his jaw locking in grievance. He wouldn’t put it past the man, no.
“And if Harry or Hermione end up in danger but manage to bring down Barty Jr, all the better
for him.” Lupin said. “Another showdown and revelation.”
Severus stilled. Lupin’s reaction was quite similar as the words left his mouth. Severus felt
the man’s eyes on him.
Barty Crouch Jr. knew. If Harry were to confront him, the man would tell Harry the truth and
he would make it nasty.
All this time, he had been worrying about and losing sleep over Hermione’s reactions to the
news, but he had never stopped to consider that the boy most certainly would react badly.
Harry held his mother and father to such elevated grounds, while begrudgingly beginning to
accept that Severus wasn’t as terrible as he thought so. Such turn of events was going to have
a colossal fallout.
“We can’t allow that.” Severus said, Occluding it enough so his voice came out controlled.
“Both of you were there at the Shrieking Shack last year. He wasn’t very willing to accept
what you had to say, Black.” He added, both it was to Lupin that he gave a pointed look.
Harry can’t find out from Barty Jr. his look meant to say.
“I hate to lie to him and keep things from him, but the best course of action would be to keep
things as they are now.” Black said and for a sweet moment, Severus thought he would hear
Sirius Black say that he agreed with Severus Snape.
“That's settled then.” Narcissa said, “They know not to let their guards down around him and
that has to be enough for now. Until we can find more about what he wants.”
“We found the man from Harry’s dream.” Lupin said, and Severus watched curiously as
Sirius looked away. “It took us weeks to find him, it’s not that easy to infiltrate hospitals.”
There was a clear as it was implied. “But odd deaths are registered with the police and we
know that the muggles or at least their law enforcement are aware of the effects of the Killing
Course. With the amount of trouble it caused back then, it was a good guess that anything
similar would be reported.”
"Frank Bryce, his name.” Black said and he was still looking away. What? Did he disapprove
of Remus’ skills as an investigator? Or was it that he didn't like that his godson was having
prophetic dreams? “His file had that he was found lying on the ground, his eyes wide open
and his body stiff and cold as ice. Not that we needed anything else, but the date of his death
matched with what we had from Harry’s dream. It took us some digging to find his address
from the police records.”
“You could always just Imperious them to give you what you needed,” Narcissa said, as if her
offer was merely a cup of tea not the use of an Unforgivable Curse.
“Yes, because I just didn’t spend thirteen years in Azkaban for another unforgivable.” Black
replied sarcastically, “You should have done it then, pay a visit to big sis.”
“Before you two start again,” Remus said, once more placating the cousins, “We did find his
address in the end. Little Hangleton. He was the gardener at Riddle House.”
“So the bastard went home.” Narcissa said, her tone too calm for the implications.
“The people in the village were all very keen to gossip. They all remembered the murder of
the Riddle family years ago, how they all died in the same way as Frank and had believed for
years that Frank was the one to kill them.”
“I hope you remembered to disguise yourselves before mingling with the locals.” He said.
Lupin scoffed, “Please Severus, it’s not my first time doing undercover work.”
“The house was just over the hill. We didn’t go inside, because Remus could sense Dark
Magic from the village and we couldn’t be sure that Peter wasn’t scurrying around.” Black
added.
“I doubt it.” Severus said, just now realising something else. “Crouch Sr. is absent from work
for weeks now. If the Crouch house elf knew Barty was alive all these years, that means that
Crouch Sr. also knew.” He said and then told them everything Hermione had so brilliantly
discovered during her own investigation. “I don’t think Crouch Sr. is ill at all. I believe he
must be being held hostage in his own house.”
“By Peter?” Black asked, his eyebrow shot up, disbelief in his tone.
“You'd do well to stop underestimating Pettigrew, he has proven himself quite capable of
misdeeds.”
Black’s reply was to only scoff. But Remus sighed, “we can investigate that too. Go over his
house to see if we find anything amiss.”
“No,” Narcissa said, “He'd see the two of you coming a mile away. I will do it.”
Black looked skeptical, but for once seemed to hold his tongue. Severus nodded. “I will keep
everyone informed about the happenings in the castle.” The others nodded.
Narcissa was the first to floo away, throwing a look of contempt to all of them. Severus
quickly followed.
They had a lot to do.

Chapter End Notes
Title and the quote at the beginning belong to Featherstone by The Paper Kites
Also, another reason this chapter took so long it was because I wasn't (and still am not)
satisfied with it. I personally think it's not very good and maybe I was being too hard on
myself but it was one of the reasons it kept me from posting it.
I hope to get another chapter by the beginning of August. Any questions, enquiries or
words of support you can find me on twitter @moonyhoax
Please leave a comment even if it's to complain that I took a month to update this fic
passed down like folk songs
Chapter Notes
well, well, well, would you look at that!! someone can actually sit down and get shit
done. I think it's funny (not to say tragic) that once I got past that part that took me
aaaages to write, everything else came around much easier.
So, I hope you enjoy this almost 9.5k chapter because once more I tried to get to the end
of book 4 and couldn't. Goblet of Fire and I are going through some issues.
Big chunks of the conversation between Sirius and the trio in the cave were taken from
the book, only minimal modifications were made. it doesn't belong to me.
Title of the chapter and the quote at the beginning belong to Seven by Taylor Swift
I think you should come live with me

and we can be pirates
then you won't have to cry
or hide in the closet
Chapter Thirty Seven
“For the love of Merlin, Hermione. It’s half past eight in the morning,” Blaise said,
exasperated. “Why are you jumping on your seat?”
She whirled at him and he jumped a bit back on his seat, the toast on his hand ended up on
Theo’s plate - who quietly returned it to Blaise’s plate. “Can't you feel it?”
“What?” Blaise asked, picking up his toast again, “Your anxiety? Yeah, in waves.”
“Something is going to happen.” She said, ignoring his comment, and nodded to herself, “I’m
certain of it.”
“What on earth are you on about?” He asked.
“It's that time of the year.” She said.
“What time? Easter break?”
“The time that bad things start to happen.” She explained and lifted her hand to count down
on her fingers, “on the first year, we went after the philosopher stone at the beginning of
June, in my second year I got petrified in May and last year the entire ordeal at the Shrieking
Shack happened also at the beginning of June—”
“We are still in the second week of April,” Theo reminded her.
“We are in the culmination Theo, that’s where we are!” She snapped, “and considering that I
had an attempt on my life in February I’m quite within my right to be anxious that something
life-threatening is going to happen to me.”
“That's very morbid Hermione,” Blaise pointed out.
At the same time, an older student said, quite loudly, “Let’s hope that they are successful this
time.”
Hermione didn’t bother with a reply, she merely flicked her wand at the juice in front of the
boy with a well-aimed Expulso and watched it long enough to be sure that it had gotten the
boy’s face before turning back to Theo, “I'm not being morbid, I’m just—”
The students around him jumped to avoid the splash and she knew she had gotten the Head
Table’s attention as well as the other students', but she didn’t have time to worry about that,
because she caught the boy pointing his wand at her.“You little blood traitor bitch!” The boy
said, pumpkin juice dripping from his chin and nose, “Stupefy!”
“Protego!” She said. Hermione heard the spell being echoed around her. The force of the
multiple shields against the spell made it ricochet and hit the boy in the chest. He went flying
straight to the wall.
Hermione winced. The boy’s friends all stood and drew their wands, Hermione was already
ready, but suddenly all of the wands on the Slytherin table slipped from their hands and
pockets, hovering above them beyond their reach. A few students even jumped in an attempt
to grab them back.
“That's quite enough!” Came Dumbledore’s thundering voice. Hermione turned and saw that
Professor Snape was already halfway to them. He didn’t look pleased. “Fifty points from
Slytherin. There is no excuse for attacking a fellow student within these walls. Please,
Professor Snape, see it that this behaviour is not repeated in your house.”
That particular comment seemed to set Professor Snape off even more because he was
glowering when he reached them. He snatched their wands from the air and hissed. “Follow
me, now.”
Pansy quickly pocketed two muffins and tossed a few buns to Blaise, who hid them inside his
robes as well.
“Renneverte!” Professor Snape cast on the fallen boy, who scrambled to his feet and made to
move after her. Their Head of House stepped between them and with a glare stopped the boy,
“Follow me.”
“She attacked me!” He complained, pointing at Hermione, “Did you see it? She—”
“I won’t repeat myself Ledbury.”

The seven of them silently followed their professor out of the Great Hall and through the
dungeons. He led them to one of the smaller classrooms, the ones usually reserved for the
N.E.W.T.S students, and made them sit.
“The Headmaster already took enough points for the appalling behaviour, so I will go straight
to the detention part. You will be brewing Draught of Peace today, to help the Hospital Wing
to replenish their stock.” Hermione sat straight on her chair while the others all groaned.
That was a fifth-year potion! She couldn’t believe her eyes when their professor tapped his
wand on the board and the instructions appeared on the blackboard.
“Now?” Ledbury asked, “It's Saturday!”
“I'm quite aware of the days of the week Mr Ledbury, there’s no need for reminding me.” He
snapped, “Since all of you decided to ruin my morning, I feel it only appropriate to ruin your
entire Saturday.”
The boy muttered something under his breath and Professor Snape pretended to not hear it.
He conjured cauldrons and ingredients on their tables, as he didn’t seem inclined to let them
anywhere near his cupboard today.
Hermione frowned, everyone had ingredients and a cauldron in front of them. Everyone but
Hermione. She raised her hand, “Erm Professor,” she called, “I think you forgot mine.”
He turned to look at her and there was nothing in his expression when he replied, “No Miss
Granger, I didn’t. I’m well aware that brewing an advanced potion is nowhere close to
detention for you. You will be writing lines instead.”
She gasped horrified. One of the boys snorted and when she turned to find the culprit,
Hermione found that Draco, Blaise, and Theo were all looking the other way. She glared
anyway.
He placed a piece of parchment and an inkpot on her table. He had given her sentences at the
top of the page and she bit her lip to keep from retorting. I should not be misusing higher-
level curses on dimwit students, therefore, adding yet another target on my back .
“You may start.” He told them, “You will be here until all of you can brew a successful
potion that I can give to Madam Pomfrey. Don’t worry, Miss Granger will be accompanying
until the last of you.”
In the end, Hermione had been right to worry. They had spent the entire Saturday down in the
dungeons, her friends and the sixth year had lots of trouble brewing it and it was past seven
in the evening when Hermione left the classroom with Pansy hanging off her side and her
fingers burning after so much writing. They crossed the passage and found that a lot of the
students were there and were all looking at Hermione with a mixture of anger and envy that
weren't new to her, but unsettled her all the same. Specially when Draco seemed angry as
well.
“What?” Pansy barked, never one to hold her tongue.
Draco threw a magazine down on the coffee table and both girls went to see it. It was the
week's edition of Witch Weekly. “Are you being serious right now?” She asked Draco, who
had his arms crossed over his chest.
“You tell me.” He replied.
Scoffing, she picked up the magazine and Pansy leaned over her to read. There in big, bold
letters, the title Harry Potter’s Secret Heartache seemed to scream at her.
A boy like no other, perhaps — yet a boy suffering all the usual pangs of adolescence, writes
Rita Skeeter. Deprived of love since the tragic demise of his parents, fourteen-year-old Harry
Potter thought he had found solace in his once steady girlfriend at Hogwarts, turned sister,
Hermione Granger. Little did he know that he would shortly be suffering yet another
emotional blow in a life already littered with personal losses.
Miss Granger, a plain but ambitious girl, seems to have a taste for famous wizards that her
brother Harry, who had to be thrown out of the picture after last year's discovery cannot
suffice anymore. Since the arrival at Hogwarts of Viktor Krum, Bulgarian Seeker and hero of
the last World Quidditch Cup, Miss Granger has been toying with not only one famous
wizard but two. Hermione Granger was reported to have a brief fling with Wizarding World
Heir Draco Malfoy, but things quickly cooled off when Miss Granger decided that the
Bulgarian Quidditch star was her ultimate goal. Krum, who is openly smitten with the
devious Miss Granger, has already invited her to visit him in Bulgaria over the summer
holidays, and insists that he has “never felt this way about any other girl.”
Well, that explained Draco’s behaviour.
However, it might not be Miss Granger’s doubtful natural charms that have captured these
unfortunate boys’ interest. “She’s really ugly,” says Lavender Brown, a pretty and vivacious
fourth-year student, “but she’d be well up to making a Love Potion, she’s quite brainy. I think
that’s how she’s doing it.” Love Potions are, of course, banned at Hogwarts, and no doubt
Albus Dumbledore will want to investigate these claims. In the meantime, Harry Potter’s
well-wishers must hope that next time, he bestows his heart on a worthier candidate.
Blaise seemed amused with the whole thing. “I'd give a nine out of ten.” He said, “it’s an
entertaining read, not gonna lie and she painted you as this cold, calculated girl which is a
new touch, but she lost points by recycling your forbidden romance with Potter.”
“Shut up Blaise,” Draco hissed and then turned to her, “is it true?” He asked.
“What?” Hermione asked, honestly quite lost as there were plenty of lies in the article she
didn’t know which one he had picked.
Someone scoffed behind her and having learned her lesson today, she didn’t bother, after all,
her hands were still burning from all the writing. “It makes sense now that he asked her to
the ball. Forcing a relationship with someone under a love potion is a crime punishable with
Azkaban, Granger.”
“What?” Hermione repeated, keeping her eyes on Draco.
“Did he invite you to spend the summer with him?”
“He asked me right after he pulled me from the lake,” Hermione replied and watched
Draco’s entire expression contort in a poor attempt of disguising his jealousy.
“And what did you say?”
Hermione raised both of her eyebrows at him. “Do you remember how I was after I got
pulled from the lake?” She asked him, Draco at least had the decency to look sheepish. “I
didn’t reply because I was too busy almost freezing to death.” Hermione retorted, “but
anyway, that’s not important. What’s important is how did she know about it? She wasn’t
there. She couldn’t have heard it…” His look wasn’t giving and Hermione sighed, “Oh, for
Merlin’s sake! I’m not spending my summer in Bulgaria!”
Later, when Hermione stomped to her dorm room, with the girls giggling and sniggering at
Draco’s reaction, Hermione began to wonder. This had gone far enough. Rita Skeeter was
getting her information somehow and Hermione would find it out.
But first, she’d deal with the new wave of hate mail.
On Monday, Harry intercepted her before breakfast, but he had the good sense of bringing
food along. “Sirius wrote me a letter.” He said as he offered her some toasts and pulled her
from the opposite direction of the Great Hall, towards the Main Courtyard. “He told us to be
at the stile at end of the road out of Hogsmeade, past Dervish and Banges at two o’clock next
Saturday afternoon. It’s a Hogsmeade visit before the Eater break.”
Hermione frowned, “Why at Hogsmeade? And why not come up here himself?”
Harry shrugged, “I think he wants it to be a secret. Maybe Dumbledore?”
Hermione huffed and glared at the open air, “if he wants it to be a secret we better stop
talking about it.”
He snorted, “I read the article yesterday. Ron was beside himself with the bit about you being
invited to Bulgaria.”
She rolled her eyes, “he can join Draco then!”
Harry laughed but then knocked elbows with her, “Are you all right? You are not upset, are
you?”
“Upset? Please! Blaise gave her a nine, I’d give only six and add that she’s losing her touch!
It’s shitty writing and a pile of old rubbish! The task was in February, so why publish it only
now? Did she need a month to put together three paragraphs? I write longer Arithmancy
essays in a day!”
He laughed again, “But I’m curious Hermione, she keeps writing on private conversations.
Do you think she put a bug on us?”
Hermione stopped in her tracks. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped. A bug. “Harry, I
think you are right.” Hermione said, her voice slightly awed, “it's a bug indeed.”
The beetle on the window.
The beetle on her hair.
Both times the content of Hermione’s conversation ended up on the pages of Witch Weekly.
Rita Skeeter hadn’t planted a bug on them, no. She was the bug herself, skittering around. She
was an animagus and an unregistered one like Sirius and Peter Pettigrew.
“What?” He asked, “You have the Slytherin plotting face.”
Hermione blinked. “Slytherin plotting face? What the hell is that?”
He shrugged, “I can’t explain. But you all have it. That’s the face Theo had when he threw
the paper ball at me and that’s how Pansy always looks at me.”
Hermione didn't mention the use of first names and she also didn’t mention that the ‘Slytherin
plotting face’ wasn’t exactly how Pansy was looking at Harry.
“Can we go back to the Great Hall now?” Hermione asked instead. She wanted to enlist one
of her friends into the plan.
Harry hesitated. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, Hermione.”
She frowned, “why not?”
“Today's mail.” He replied, “it’s not good. There’s a pile over where you usually sit.”
“I don’t care Harry. They won’t scare me off with some ridiculous words on pieces of paper.”
But Hermione soon found out that they would, actually, scare her off. The first envelope she
opened had a very creative collage - Hermione was certain that whoever had done it was
half-blood and had watched criminal tv shows - saying ‘You are a WickEd giRL. HarRy
PotTER desErves BeTteR. GO back wherE you cAMe from mUGgle.’
Pansy laughed at that, “I mean, I’m not his biggest fan but even I think he can score someone
that is not his own sister.”
“They’re all like it!” Hermione said, vaguely scared with how willing to believe in incest the
wizarding world was. “‘Harry Potter can do much better than the likes of you. . . .’” and
“‘You deserve to be boiled in frog spawn. . . .’ Ouch!”
She had just opened the last envelope on her pile and a yellowish-green liquid smelling
strongly of petrol gushed over her hands, which quickly began to erupt in large yellow boils.
“Undiluted bubotuber pus!” Daphne shrieked and pushed the envelope away with her fork,
throwing it almost into Vince’s plate.
“You should go to Madam Pomfrey,” Blaise said, “That hand looks disgusting.”
“Oh thank you, Blaise!” She snapped, “I didn’t notice it!”
Hermione did go to Madam Pomfrey, complaining all the way to the Hospital Wing to Theo,
who was very smart to not say a thing. He simply waited for her and then followed her to
their class.
Theo only opened his mouth when they arrived at Moody’s classroom, “I’m sitting next to
you.” He informed her before doing just that.
Pansy scowled because she was Hermione’s partner for this class now, but instead of
complaining just stomped toward Blaise.
“It was just bubotuber pus,” she murmured to Theo, “don't start being all weird again on
me.”
He grinned at her and leaned to whisper in her ear, “I know what you know about our
professor.” Hermione raised her eyebrows in question when he leaned back. “Professor
Snape told me.”
“Sticking together, then?”
“Always my darling.” Draco kicked Theo’s chair behind him and Hermione smirked at the
display of jealousy. She shot Theo a look that was a clear warning to not provoke the blond,
which Theo promptly ignored.
Hermione was resigned to having Theo calling her all the possible variations of love and
darling through the morning, as well as being complimented on her hair, her freckles, her
smile and even her calligraphy.
By the time they were walking to Potions for the last class of the day, Blaise had suggested
“Mi Amore” and Theo had included that one in his list of terms of endearment.
“If we dated mi amore, I’d tell you all day how lovely you are.” He said as they sat down
together for Potions.
Draco put down his cauldron a bit too forcefully on his desk and Blaise sniggered next to the
boy, “Bellissima"
“Stop enabling him” Draco hissed, “he’s your boyfriend for Salazar’s sake.”
Professor Snape was already there and he sighed, “Mr Nott please if you could not torture
professors and students alike today, that would be appreciated.”
“Of course, Sir,” Theo replied.

The Gryffindors were there already and since Harry had come to some sort of peace treaty
with Theo and Pansy, he had stopped sitting on the other side of the class in their shared
lesson. Weasley didn’t like that very much, but he resignedly followed Harry and they both sat
behind Hermione and Theo, which put them sandwiched by four Slytherins since Pansy and
Daphne were behind Harry.
For a brief moment, Hermione pitted Ron, as she was sure Pansy would make that double
lesson a living hell for the boy.
Thankfully for him, she didn’t have the time, because twenty minutes in, there was a knock on
the dungeon door.
“Enter,” Snape said in his usual voice - annoyed.
The class looked around as the door opened. Professor Karkaroff came in. They all watched
him as he walked up toward Snape’s desk. He was twisting his finger around his goatee and
looking agitated. Curiosity washed all over them when he said, “We need to talk,” upon
reaching Snape.
In his attempt to be quiet and not have people overhearing him, everyone was listening hard
while pretending to pay attention to the ginger roots in front of them.
“I’ll talk to you after my lesson, Karkaroff,” Snape muttered, but Karkaroff interrupted him.
“I want to talk now, while you can’t slip off, Severus. You’ve been avoiding me.”
“After the lesson,” Snape snapped. Hermione and Theo exchanged glances.
Karkaroff looked extremely worried, and Snape looked angry. Hermione was certain it had to
do with the Dark Mark. The Durmstrang Headmaster hovered behind Snape’s desk for the
rest of the double period. He seemed intent on preventing Professor Snape from slipping
away at the end of class.
Harry wasn’t as sly as he thought he was, so when he deliberately knocked over his bottle of
armadillo bile with two minutes to go to the bell, Hermione knew he was going to stick
around to listen. Hermione nodded at him and ushered her friends from the classroom, she’d
get everything from Harry later.
Hate mail continued to arrive for her over the following week and when her eyes had to be
used to read ‘I read in Witch Weekly about how you are playing Harry Potter false and that
boy has had enough hardship and I will be sending you a curse by next post as soon as I can
find a big enough envelope.’ Hermione decided she had had enough and for the first time in
years, decided to take the train on Easter break.
On Saturday, Hermione left the castle with the Slytherins around midday and for an hour or
so, did a bit of shopping in Hogsmeade for Easter. Around one, she met up with Harry, who
had Ron tagging along and together they made their way to Dervish and Banges and out
toward the edge of the village. It was a new part of the village for them and the path wasn’t
made of cobblestones like the main roads, but of stepped on grass and earth. There were
fewer cottages and larger gardens, the path led then to the foot of the mountain that ran in
the back of Hogsmeade. And right there, at the stile at the end of the lane, Padfoot was
waiting for them.
“Hello, Sirius,” said Harry when they had reached him. The black dog wagged its tail
happily, then turned and began to trot away from them across the scrubby patch of ground
that rose to meet the rocky foot of the mountain. Harry, Ron, and Hermione climbed over the
stile and followed.
Sirius led them to the very foot of the mountain, where the ground was covered with boulders
and rocks. It was easy for him, with his four paws, Hermione thought bitterly, but Harry, Ron,
and Hermione were soon out of breath and she had almost slipped twice. They followed
Sirius higher, up onto the mountain itself. For nearly half an hour they climbed a steep,
winding, and stony path, following Sirius’s wagging tail.
Then, at last, Sirius slipped out of sight, and when they reached the place where he had
vanished, they saw a narrow fissure in the rock. “Is this really necessary?” Hermione
grumbled at the sight of it.
There was a bark from the inside as if Sirius was telling her to just come in already and she
rolled her eyes. They squeezed into it and found themselves in a cool, dimly lit cave.
Sirius was back in his human form, smiling at them as if their hike had been the most fun
thing he had done in a while, “welcome to my humble escaped convict abode,” he told them,
pointing around.
Hermione noticed a pile of rags and branches that she was sure he had used as a bed when
he had been hiding.
“This is where you stayed?” Harry asked.
Sirius nodded, “it’s not much, but I couldn’t risk the Shrieking Shack or the village.” He
shrugged.
“What’re we doing here, Sirius?” Harry asked, he seemed a bit shaken. Hermione too felt
terrible, imagining him squatting in this cave for months.
“I didn’t want to go to the castle, where everyone would know, not even one of the pubs in
Hogsmeade.” He told them, “Things are getting grim and in our last group meeting we
discussed some things that I wanted to tell you.”
“Group meeting?” Harry asked.
“Yeah.” He said and Hermione saw that he shot Weasley a glance before continuing, “You
know, the old weird crowd.” Hermione snorted, Merlin she so wanted to be a small bee and
spy on those meetings. Well she understood Skeeter’s animagus a little better now. “We are
investigating this now,” he said, showing them the Daily Prophet with Mr Crouch as the
headline. Mystery Illness of Bartemius Crouch.
“What did you find?” Hermione asked.
“I still don’t know. I haven’t gotten the report from the main investigator.”
Hermione scanned the paper, 'hasn’t been seen in public since November... house appears
deserted... St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries declines to comment...
Ministry refuses to confirm rumours of critical illness...’ Harry was leaning over to read as
well. “It sounds like he’s dying.” He said. Hermione wondered if he had told Ron about who
was teaching them Defence Against the Dark Arts.
Weasley, who seemed well aware that they were keeping something from him, added
importantly, "My brother’s Crouch’s assistant. He says Crouch is suffering from overwork.”
Sirius snorted, “overworked indeed.” He added and then turned to Hermione, “I’ve heard
your observations from that night in the World Cup final, but you weren’t with Harry
throughout everything. Harry, would you mind?”
Harry shook his head and told him his version of the events of the Dark Mark's appearance,
from the moment he left the Minister's booth to the moment in the forest. Sirius then filled the
other two in with what Hermione had told Snape about Winky. “I don’t think it was Winky
who stole the wand, Hermione.” He said by the end. “Who else was sitting behind you?”
“Loads of people.” Harry replied, “Bulgarian ministers, Fudge, the Malfoys—”
“The Malfoys!” Ron said suddenly and Hermione turned, ready to glare and defend the
Malfoys’ shady reputation. “I bet it was Lucius Malfoy!”
“Anyone else?” Sirius asked, clearly avoiding the topic of his cousin’s family.
“Ludo Bagman,” Hermione offered.
“He’s harmless, even though he keeps offering to help me with the Triwizard Tournament,”
Harry added.
“I don’t know much about him. Does he say anything about the reason?” Sirius asked
“Says he’s taken a liking to me,” Harry explained and Sirius hummed, “But we did see him in
the forest just before the Dark Mark appeared.”
“Yeah, but he didn’t stay in the forest, did he?” Weasley said. “The moment we told him
about the riot, he went off to the campsite.”
“How d’you know?” Hermione shot back. “How d’you know where he Disapparated to?”
“Come off it,” he said incredulously. “Are you saying you reckon Ludo Bagman conjured the
Dark Mark?”
“It’s more likely he did it than Winky,” Hermione retorted stubbornly.
“Don’t mind her,” Ron said, looking meaningfully at Sirius, “she’s obsessed with house—”
But Sirius held up a hand to silence Ron. Thank you
“A house-elf can’t conjure the Dark Mark, Ron. Only wizards branded with the Mark
themselves can do it.” He explained.
“Lucius did it then!”
Sirius simply ignored the comment and asked, “When the Dark Mark had been conjured, and
the elf had been discovered holding Harry’s wand, what did Crouch do?”
“Went to look in the bushes,” said Harry, “but there wasn’t anyone else there.”
“Of course,” Sirius muttered, pacing up and down, “but then he sacked her?”
“Yes,” said Hermione in a heated voice, “he sacked her, just because she hadn’t stayed in her
tent and let herself get trampled—”
“Hermione, will you give it a rest with the elf!” Weasley exclaimed.
Sirius shook his head and said, “She’s got the measure of Crouch better than you have, Ron.”
And Hermione watched gleefully as the boy’s cheeks and ears turned red. “If you want to
know what a man’s like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals.”
Hermione nodded at that and wished that she could repeat those same words to Uncle
Lucius. He turned to Hermione and looked at her when he spoke again, “I don’t think Crouch
was thinking straight when he sacked Winky. He made himself vulnerable with that. She isn’t
bound to the family anymore, therefore not magically bound to keep his secrets.”
“She’s in quite a state,” Hermione replied, “She won’t betray him. Winky put the—”
Hermione shivered, a slight reminder of the lake. Sirius put a hand on her arm.
“Sirius,” Harry called, “What about Crouch?” He asked, “Should we worry about him? The
second task—” Harry cut off with a glance towards her.
Sirius’s face darkened. “He was the one who gave the order for me to be sent to Azkaban —
without a trial.”
“You’re kidding!” Harry said. Hermione knew he wasn’t. Crouch had, after all, sentenced his
son.
“No, I’m not,” Sirius replied, “Crouch used to be Head of the Department of Magical Law
Enforcement, didn’t you know?” Harry and Weasley shook their heads. Hermione nodded.
“He was tipped for the next Minister of Magic,” Sirius continued, “He’s a great wizard,
Barty Crouch, powerfully magical — and power-hungry. Oh never a Voldemort supporter,”
he added, when Harry’s eyebrows shot up. “No, Barty Crouch was always very outspoken
against the Dark Side. But then a lot of people who were against the Dark Side... Well, you
wouldn’t understand, you’re too young.”
“That’s what my dad said at the World Cup,” Weasley replied, irritated. “Try us, why don’t
you?”
Sirius seemed amused by the comment. Hermione could see quite clearly the man giving
Theo tips on how to pull that prank.
“All right. Imagine that Voldemort’s powerful now. This new Dark Wizard just appeared, you
don’t know who his supporters are, who’s working for him and who isn’t; you know he can
control people so that they do terrible things without being able to stop themselves. You’re
scared for yourself, and your family, and your friends.” He stopped and Hermione thought of
Remus and Sirius back then, young and scared, soon to lose everything.
He continued, “Every week, news comes of more deaths, more disappearances, more
torturing. The Ministry of Magic’s in disarray, they don’t know what to do, they’re trying to
keep everything hidden from the Muggles, but they are dying too. This is how it used to be:
Terror everywhere, panic and confusion.” Sirius sighed, “Well, times like that bring out the
best in some people and the worst in others. Crouch’s principles might’ve been good in the
beginning, but he rose quickly through the Ministry, and he started ordering very harsh
measures against Voldemort’s supporters. The Aurors were given new powers — powers to
kill rather than capture, for instance. And I wasn’t the only one who was handed straight to
the dementors without trial. Crouch fought violence with violence and authorized the use of
the Unforgivable Curses against suspects. I would say he became as ruthless and cruel as
many on the Dark Side. He had his supporters, mind you — plenty of people thought he was
going about things the right way, and there were a lot of witches and wizards clamouring for
him to take over as Minister of Magic. When Voldemort disappeared, it looked like only a
matter of time until Crouch got the top job. But then something rather unfortunate
happened.” Sirius smiled grimly.
Hermione nodded. She knew that. She had read it with Draco, “His son was caught with a
group of Death Eaters who’d managed to talk their way out of Azkaban.” Hermione said.
“Yes.” Sirius nodded. “They were trying to find Voldemort and return him to power.”
“Crouch’s son was caught?” gasped Weasley.
“Yep,” Sirius replied, “Nasty little shock for old Barty, I’d imagine.” He turned to Hermione
then, “Should have spent a bit more time at home with his family, shouldn’t he? Not leave
parenting duties to a house elf, pay more attention, maybe then he wouldn’t have lost him.”
Hermione inclined her head to the side a bit. There was something off in his tone and in the
way he was looking at her.
“Lost him?” Harry asked, “did his son die?”
“I saw the dementors bringing him in, watched them through the bars in my cell door. He
couldn’t have been more than nineteen. They took him into a cell near mine. He was
screaming for his mother by nightfall, but of course, she didn’t come. Only about a year after
he was brought in did she come. She was sickly, they said, she wanted to see her son before
she went. But the boy was sickly too, the dementors can feel when death was coming, I
noticed how excited they got.” He looked back to Hermione, “That was the last time I saw
Barty Crouch, half carrying his wife past my cell and then again carrying her home. She died
herself, apparently, shortly afterwards. Grief. Wasted away just like the boy. Crouch never
came for his son’s body. The dementors buried him outside the fortress; I watched them do
it.”
There was a long silence. Hermione’s mind was spinning. She knew he wanted her to
understand something, to connect the dots, but there was so much information that she
couldn’t get her mind working fast enough. Draco had dragged her away before the Dark
Mark was cast, they were gone before any other wizard appeared.
“So old Crouch lost it all, just when he thought he had it made,” he continued, “One
moment, a hero, poised to become Minister of Magic and next, his son dead, his wife dead,
the family name dishonoured. His popularity disappeared once the boy died because people
started feeling a bit more sympathetic toward the son, wondering how a nice young lad from
a good family had gone so badly astray. The conclusion was that his father never cared much
for him. So Cornelius Fudge got the top job, and Crouch was shunted sideways into the
Department of International Magical Cooperation.”
“Maybe that was why Crouch looked so startled to see his elf there,” Harry said. “I think
that’s why he must have overreacted to Winky being found beneath the Dark Mark. It had
brought back memories of his son, and the old scandal, and his fall from grace at the
Ministry.”
Sirius smiled and it didn’t fit the tone of the conversation at all. Something Harry had said
was revealing to him, but what? What was Sirius seeing that she couldn’t? What did he want
her to find out?
That earlier question about whether or not Weasley knew about Moody’s true identity was
answered when Harry said, “Moody says Crouch is obsessed with catching Dark wizards,”
“Yeah, I’ve heard it’s become a bit of a mania with him,” said Sirius, nodding. “I believe he
still thinks he can bring back the old popularity by catching one more Death Eater.”
“And he sneaked up here to search Snape’s office!” said Ron triumphantly, looking at
Hermione.
“Yes, and that doesn’t make sense at all,” said Sirius. Hermione’s jaw almost hit the floor at
that.
“Yeah, it does!” Weasley insisted excitedly, but Sirius shook his head. “Listen, if Crouch
wants to investigate Snape, why hasn’t he been coming to judge the tournament? It would be
an ideal excuse to make regular visits to Hogwarts and keep an eye on him.”
“So you think Snape could be up to something, then?” Harry asked, but Hermione broke in
even though his tone was in her favour.
“Look, I don’t care what you say, Dumbledore trusts Professor Snape—”
“Oh give it a rest, Hermione,” Weasley said impatiently, his tone further annoying her. “I
know Dumbledore’s brilliant and everything, but that doesn’t mean a really clever Dark
wizard couldn’t fool him—”
“Why did Snape save Harry’s life in the first year, then? Why didn’t he just let him die?”
“I dunno — maybe he thought Dumbledore would kick him out—”
“What d’you think, Sirius?” Harry said loudly, cutting off their bickering. “What do you
think are Crouch’s real intention?”
“What do you think about Snape?” Ron retorted.
“I think you both got a point,” said Sirius, looking thoughtfully at Weasley and her. “When I
first found out Snape was teaching here, I wondered why Dumbledore hired him. Snape’s
always been fascinated by the Dark Arts, he was famous for it at school. Slimy, oily, greasy-
haired kid, he was,” Sirius added, and Hermione rolled her eyes while Weasley and Harry
grinned. “Snape knew more curses when he arrived at school than half the kids in the seventh
year, and he was part of a gang of Slytherins who nearly all turned out to be Death Eaters.
He was also very good friends with Barty Jr., but as far as I know, Snape was never even
accused of being a Death Eater — not that that means much. Plenty escaped captivity.”
“Snape knows Karkaroff pretty well, but he wants to keep that quiet,” Ron added.
Merlin, no. They were getting into dangerous waters.
“Yeah, you should’ve seen Snape’s face when Karkaroff turned up in Potions yesterday!”
said Harry quickly. “Karkaroff wanted to talk to Snape, he says Snape’s been avoiding him.
He showed Snape something on his arm, but I couldn’t see what it was.”
Hermione winced but quickly disguised it. Sirius looked at her again and decided to save
them all from that tidbit of information. “I’ve no idea what that’s about, but even knowing
that Dumbledore sometimes can have misguided trust, I doubt that he’d let Snape teach at
Hogwarts if he’d ever worked for Voldemort.”
“Why are Moody and Crouch so keen to get into Snape’s office then?” Ron asked stubbornly.
So Harry had shared that he’d seen Crouch in Snape’s office, but he didn’t tell his friend the
rest. Interesting.
“Well,” Sirius replied slowly, “I wouldn’t put it past Mad-Eye to have searched every single
teacher’s office when he got to Hogwarts. That’s expected Moody behaviour.” He told them
and Hermione understood for what it was, the impostor was doing a good job as Alastor
Moody and taking advantage of it. “He takes his Defence Against the Dark Arts seriously.
I’m not sure he trusts anyone at all, but I’ll say this for Moody, though, he never killed if he
could help it. Always brought people in alive where possible. He was tough, but he never
descended to the level of the Death Eaters.” He paused then, “Crouch, though, he’s a
different matter. If he’s really ill, then what was he doing in Snape’s office? But if he’s not and
it's just an excuse, what was so important that kept him from watching the final of the world
cup that he made it happen? The same thing with the Tournament. He should be in the castle
judging the tournament.” Sirius smirked before continuing, “if he continues like that, things
are going to escape him just like his son.”
Hermione paused. It was almost there, she could almost feel the information threatening to
jump into consciousness. She needed to occlude and bring all of the information she had
gathered today and on previous conversations to sort through them. Sirius’ entire behaviour
was clear that he knew she had all the necessary information to get to whatever he wanted
her to get to.
Sirius looked up at Ron, “I have someone working on Crouch, but do you think your brother
that works for him can give you any information on whether they've got any leads on Bertha
Jorkins?” Sirius asked and Weasley nodded pompously, suddenly feeling very important.
“Bagman told me they hadn’t,” Harry replied.
“Yes, he’s quoted in the article in there,” Sirius agreed, nodding at the paper. “He went on
and on about Bertha’s poor memory. I think it’s a load of bullshit, I knew Bertha and she
wasn’t forgetful at all — quite the reverse, I told you, remember? Very nosy, no brains?”
Harry and Hermione nodded. "She had an excellent memory for gossip. It used to get her
into a lot of trouble; she never knew when to keep her mouth shut.” He gave a small laugh,
“Maybe that’s why they are not bothering to look for her,” he said, “I can imagine how she
could be a bit of a liability at the Ministry of Magic.”
“Do you still think she might have gotten into a trap?”
Sirius nodded. “Only someone well acquainted with the year’s events would be able to pull
all these things. Your name in the Goblet and the attack on Hermione. Only a handful of
people knew about the Tournament and even fewer people knew what exactly was going to
happen. I’m sure she was one of them.”
“I will ask Percy,” Ron said.
“See that you do,” Sirius nodded, “and by the way, I wanted to invite you over during the
Easter Break.” He said, “The three of you. Harry can see his room.” Sirius smiled at him
and Hermione saw Harry nodding from the ‘invite you’.
“I'd love to!” He said and Hermione nodded as well.
“Me too.”
Sirius’ grin stretched. “Great! We got a new sofa Ron, so I’m sure you won’t have problems
sleeping there.”
“No, no! I’m used to sleeping in sofas, it’s no trouble!”
“Good.” He said, “you can bring the brooms, there are lots of open areas to fly around. You
better get back to school, we will see each other on Monday then.”
They all nodded and gave their goodbyes to Sirius.

…
“Truly,” Hermione said for what seemed the hundredth time. “You don’t need to come with
me.” She said as she sat down on the train and the three boys followed her inside. She let
Crookshanks out and the cat went straight to Blaise’s lap.
“We do.” Blaise replied solemnly, “we were invited, Hermione.” There was a glint in his eyes
that told Hermione exactly how excited he was about the whole thing.
“I even packed my broom because Black said he was going to teach me some tricks,” Theo
added.
Harry sat down next to her, “I can’t believe I have to spend time with the two of you outside
Hogwarts.” He said in false suffering. And Hermione knew it was false because the moment
Theo mentioned that he was bringing his broom along to practice Harry’s eyes sparkled with
excitement.
“And what’s this sudden interest in Quidditch, by the way?"
“Half of the team is graduating this year,” Theo explained “The three of us are applying.”
Hermione frowned and Harry looked at her like she had grown a second head. “What
three?” She asked, just in case.
“Me, Blaise and Pans,” Theo replied.
Harry’s green eyes got huge at that. Just like Hermione’s.
“You?” Hermione turned to Blaise, “on a broom?”
He smirked, “it wouldn’t be the—”
“Please don't finish this sentence.” Theo and Harry said at the same time. And then Harry
added, “Parkinson? Playing quidditch?”
Blaise nodded. “She’s the one that makes more sense honestly.” He replied, “her family on
her mother's side were all Holyhead Harpies players.”
“She never said anything!” Hermione exclaimed, she knew Pansy liked Quidditch, but not
that her family was full of Quidditch players.
Theo explained, “That’s because of her dad. He made her mum stop playing once they
married and forbade Pansy to play. She always resented her father because of that.”
“What changed?” Harry asked.
“The Parkinsons left Britain.” Theo replied with a smirk, “wherever they are is too far and
secluded for owls. Pansy told us that they don't get letters or the Prophet. She’s taking the
opportunity.”
Hermione shook her head. There was no way she was escaping games now.
“And since Draco’s captaining next year,” Blaise added, “you are now in the presence of the
two new beaters in Slytherin.”
“You are not even trying out?” Hermione asked, slightly outraged.
“Of course we are, but we are good enough and you know,” he smirked. Merlin, Hermione
knew.
Harry didn’t seem all that bothered by it, “And Pansy? What position is she going to play?”
“Chaser, of course.”
The boys began talking Quidditch and before Hermione had to spend hours listening to teams
and the British league, Hermione asked Harry about what exactly he overheard that day in
Potions.
Now that Ron wasn’t around - he bailed on the vacation when Theo and Blaise waved their
invitation letter on Sunday, saying how excited they were to join the family holiday - They
could talk more freely without Ron and his rampant mistrust of every Slytherin.
“The same thing Karkaroff was worried about during the Ball.” Harry replied, “he showed
his left arm to Snape and said that it never been that clearer.”
Theo and Blaise were sitting on the edge of their seat after that.
“Shit,” Theo muttered.
“What?” Harry asked. “What is it?”
“They were talking about the Dark Mark,” Theo said. “It’s on the left arm and it it’s clearer
now, it means—” Theo hesitated, “it means that Voldemort is either back or getting really
strong.”
“Snape has the Dark Mark?” Harry asked as Hermione was sure he would.
“Yeah,” Hermione said, her voice cautious, “what did you think I meant when I told you that
Snape turned spy for Dumbledore?”
“You didn’t leave it clear Hermione.” He said, in a tone that Hermione knew he wasn’t going
to fall for her bullshit.
She shrugged and tried to look innocent, “I thought I had.”
He glared at her a bit, but let it go, because Theo, smart boy that he was, added:
“And he’s working with Remus and Sirius now.”
Harry nodded, “I know.”

And just like that, a Snape-is-evil-and-out-to-get-me roll was avoided. How much peaceful it
was to be Ron Weasley-free. Harry was excited to finally go over to his godfather’s and
Hermione tried to help with his excitement by telling him things about the house and
neighbourhood. It was interesting to see, because Theo and Blaise, who both had Estates to
their names and summer houses, winter houses and whatever else rich people had, seemed
equally excited to experience a small house. Hermione tried to hide her amusement at
Blaise’s expression of wonder when she said they only had one bathroom in the house.
But it was nice really, seeing her brother and her best friends interact like that. She had
guessed a long time ago that Theo and Harry would hit off if given the opportunity, as they
had a lot in common, not only because of the tragedy in their lives. And Blaise, well, Blaise
was asking questions and being open to conversation just because he knew it was important
to her. Harry too, now that Ron wasn’t a stony-glaring presence on his side could interact
openly without the worry of saying something that would set Ron off.
It was early evening when they arrived in London, and it was much quieter this time of the
year than in September or at the end of June. Remus was waiting for them with a smile. He
surprised all the boys by greeting them with a hug and a pat on the back, which left, the
Slytherin boys especially, blinking dumbly.
He hugged Hermione too and kept his arm around her when he walked them towards the
muggle entrance. It was Blaise’s and Theo’s first time going through that pillar and Harry led
them, explaining that they just had to walk through it or run, if it made them feel better.
Remus quickly shrunk their bags and pocketed all of them.
“I think it’s my first time seeing them in an environment that it’s not theirs,” Hermione said,
after watching the entire thing.
Remus snorted, “Sirius too was the same. The first time I showed him the barrier he went
through it three times trying to get stuck in the middle of it.”
“It was nice of you to invite them.” She said and Remus nodded, they crossed the barrier
together, where Harry and the other two were waiting.
“Welcome to Muggle London, Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini,” Remus said
They were looking at everything in equal parts scared and awed. The muggle side was much
more crowded than even September 1st got to be, the clothes were new for the boys, as well
as the trains were modern compared to the Hogwarts Express.
“Where's Sirius?” Harry asked, “he couldn’t come?”
Remus gave a long-suffering sigh, “He's in the car.” He said, “He's showing off outside the
station, I’m certain.”
Harry grinned and they all walked to the street exit on York Way. There was a very good-
looking guy wearing sunglasses and a black leather jacket leaning against the side of a car
that Hermione was sure to have seen in one of those James Bond movies. On the roof of the
car were three big Mcdonald's to-go bags.
“Oh, for fucks’ sake,” Remus muttered next to her and only then did Hermione understand. It
was Sirius. The sunglasses-wearing, leather jacket guy was Sirius. He waved and put up the
sunglasses. Remus ushered them across the street, where a few people stopped to take
pictures of the car. “I told you to wait in the car.” He said, but his tone was amused and there
was already a fond smile forming on his face. He also didn’t waste a single second before
siding up next to him and resting a possessive hand on Sirius’ waist.
“What is this?” Theo asked, his eyes wide looking at the car.
“This my young padawans—” Both Hermione and Harry snorted at the Star Wars reference,
“is an Aston Martin DB5. Lovely, isn’t she?”
“It's a car” Theo whispered reverentially, Sirius barked a laugh.
“Yes, and a very good car at that.” He said, “Come on now, in you go.”
“We won’t fit,” Hermione stated the obvious. Not only was it a double door, but it was also a
tiny sports car.
“My girl, it’s bigger on the inside.”
Remus snorted again, “I shouldn’t have gotten you the TV.”
“You have a TV too?” Theo asked, “There’s a really old one in the Muggle Studies
classroom, but it doesn’t work.”
“Yes,” Remus said and continued before Sirius could open his mouth, “but I’m sure you are
all loaded with homework and we will see through that before I can let Sirius sit you down
for three Star Wars movies, seventeen 007 or Merlin forbids, twenty-six seasons of Doctor
Who.”
Sirius pouted and Harry laughed at his godfather’s expression, it was worlds different from
his seriousness two days ago. “You can get in,” he said and they all entered the car, one after
the other. Hermione could only thank muggle’s natural avoidance of anything magical that
kept them from noticing four teenagers entering the back of a car that barely fit two.
The car literally purred when Sirius turned on and the boys ‘aah-ed’ and ‘ooh-ed’
throughout the entire trip. Crookshanks had to get back inside his cage because he didn’t like
the car or how crowded it was. The Slytherins had their faces plastered against the windows,
watching the tall buildings and everything that they never expected muggles to have.
Hermione thought that Blaise would be actually a bit better because she knew one of his
mother’s former husbands had been half-blood and he knew some things from muggle
culture, but looking at him now it was clear that he had never actually lived it.
“We did some changes in the house,” Remus told them, “we are adding an extra room, so
Hermione and Harry don’t have to share one for much longer.” He laughed and turned to
Sirius, “they can help us paint, since you want to do it in the muggle way, I think we all can
get it done and have Theo and Blaise sleeping in there for at least one night before going
back.”
“We can definitely help,” Theo said.
Sirius laughed, but it was Harry who spoke, “He has no idea how much work it takes to paint
a room, don’t listen to him.”
Hermione snorted. Theo frowned, “I don’t mind.” He said, “Really, Remus.”
“Okay, then.” He said, “we can work on it together.”
It was a two-hour ride to their house and Hermione quickly understood the three McDonald's
bags, as they were all starving after the first twenty minutes. They all shared the meal, Sirius
had gotten different burgers and tons of fries for them and despite a minute of heart-
wrenching sadness after Harry announced it was his first McDonald's meal that had Remus
reaching out to Sirius’ thigh and exchanging a look that clearly said we have him now, they
laughed through the trip, sang the songs that played in the radio and both times Hermione
caught Remus’ eyes in the rear mirror she saw how content he was.
Sirius was in full host mode when they arrived, he quickly pulled the boys to show them the
house and where they’d be sleeping, Hermione stayed behind with Remus and took in all the
changes they made in those past eight months. Crookshanks was gone the moment she
opened his cage. The living room was very different from the last time she was here. They had
indeed changed the sofa, bought a proper TV stand and a new TV to go on top of it. The
armchairs still didn’t match, but they looked a lot homier now.
She heard laughter from one of the rooms and Hermione saw Remus smiling at the sound.
“He was like a little kid when the four of you confirmed that you were coming.” He told her,
“he stayed up all night trying to get ahead on the new room.”
“He seems happy. You too.”
Remus nodded, “it's not easy every day, but the bad days are starting to be fewer and far
between now.” He told her, "Sirius was never made to be caged. I don’t think you will ever
see what he used to be like,” he said sadly, “but the same can be said about me too, I guess.
But I miss him more than I miss me, so once it finally set in that he was free, watching him
felt like coming ashore.”
“You are enough now.” Hermione said, “Sirius too. And you are great to Theo, I can’t thank
you enough for reaching out.”
Remus smiled at her and cupped her cheek, “I can’t thank you enough for you, Hermione.”
He said.
“Hermione!” Blaise called out, “Come here!”
She snorted and Remus motioned that she should go, “Tell Sirius I’m out having a smoke.”
It was almost unbelievable how the six of them together were not awkward at all. But it was
also surprising how her friends and her brother thrived differently in that one week. Harry,
who had never had anyone to be there just for him, basked in Sirius’ attention and the stories
he told about his father and their adventures together. She watched him being his happiest
with things simple as coming for breakfast in pyjamas, having Sirius messing up his hair even
more and asking ‘sleep well?’. Theo too would surprise her with how much family-starved he
was, every time Remus offered a cup of tea, rested his hand on the boy’s shoulder as he read
through his easter break homework, or invited him to watch the night’s movie, the boy would
blush and nod eagerly.
With Theo finally settled, Blaise seemed a bit more relaxed too, Hermione hadn’t realised
how much of Blaise’s personality was keeping the attention away from Theo. He didn’t need
to perform with them, didn’t need to put up an unapproachable front because there was no
one to report on them, no one think less of him because he wasn’t British of Sacred Twenty
Eight.
Hermione too came to realise just how much she appreciated this family, that she had come
to love her godfather, Sirius and Harry in the same unconditional way she loved her mom
and dad. She really wished that when the time came for her to tell the truth to her parents,
she would get to keep both of them.
They fell into a routine pretty easily, they had breakfast together and then everyone would
help clean the table so the four of them could work on their homework up until it was time for
lunch. After lunch, the boys would go outside for Quidditch and Hermione would work on her
research - she had yet to crack whatever Sirius wanted of her. The boys would come inside
when the sun had set and everyone would move to the new room to either paint the furniture
or help assemble it. For Blaise and Theo, putting together furniture seemed as fun as magic.
Shower time was chaotic and they would decide who was going first by drawing straws, but it
wasn’t all that bad, because the last one got to choose the movie or tv show for the night and
then they would all pill up on the sofa to watch it together.
The night before they had to take the train back, Harry whispered to her from his bed in their
room. “I want this Hermione. I want this family.”
“You can have it, Harry.” She replied.
“Theo is obsessed with Remus, so I think he will come too.” He said and then even lower like
it was a crime to admit, “I'm okay with it.”
Hermione chuckled, but then the thought came to her. She added, her tone serious, “I think
the third room is actually for him.”
“Me too.” He said.
When the morning came, it was a quiet affair. It was obvious that there was a sadness in the
air about leaving and the car ride back was silent just like the train back to the castle, but
when they got to the main hall that separated the stairs up to the Gryffindor Tower and the
steps down to the Dungeons, Hermione watched as Harry exchanged quick hugs with Blaise
and Theo.
And maybe this was what Professor Snape had said, about the people in-between. The ones
who didn’t fit completely on each side, but found themselves fitting perfectly in the middle,
with the people they chose.
Chapter End Notes
Thank you for reading!
Maybe, hopefully, the next chapter we can finally close this year! I'm really excited for
year 5 (I have tons of things written already and can't wait to finally get to them)
Leave a comment if you want, I really appreciate it and always read all of them. I'm a bit
slow on replying to them, but I will get to all of them.
but through all the sorrow we were riding high
Chapter Notes
Hello!!
Thank you for patiently waiting and for all the lovely comments you guys always leave
me. I love all of them!
I honestly can't believe that his fic has reached over 100k hits, it feels truly impossible. I
thank every single one of you who has taken the time to read it.
A few parts have been taken and paraphrased from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire,
they don't belong to me but to that one we all know who she is.
And on another note, I’ve been trying to post this chapter since Thursday but AO3
simply kept giving me an Error 500 page
we were searching for reasons

to play by the rules
but we quickly found
it was just for fools
Chapter Thirty-Eight
For once, Theo was very talkative. He spent their entire first week back telling Draco,
Daphne and Pansy all about their week at Remus and Sirius’ and Hermione felt a Deja Vu for
the time Blaise had taken Theo to Italy in the summer before their second year and Blaise had
gone on and on about everything they did. Blaise caught her eye and he smirked, he was
probably thinking of the same thing.
“Still much fewer details about eyelashes or skin against the sun,” she told him.
Blaise spluttered and he did that rare expression of his that indicated embarrassment where he
scrunched up his nose and pouted really quick.
They were leaving Hagrid’s lesson and it had been one of the best ones since the class they
had on Unicorns. Harry caught up with them, his bag slung precariously on his shoulder.
“Hey, Theo!” He called.
“Hiya Harry,” Theo replied easily. Hermione really wished Colin Creevey was there just then
because Draco’s expression was so good that it should be illegal that no one was there to
capture it.
“Remus wrote to me to let you know that you left behind a sweater.” He said, “He wanted me
to know if you want him to owl it to you or if you want him to leave it in your room.”
Hermione really wanted Colin Creevey. Draco’s eyes had gotten even bigger, while Theo’s
face had softened and honest to Merlin, glowed.
“He can keep it,” Theo said, very softly. It was clear to her, by just looking at the expressions
of all of their friends, that no one would make a joke or make fun of him for befriending
Harry or blabbering about two Gryffindors.
“He said the owl kept returning.” Harry added, “that's why he wrote me.”
Theo nodded, “I have my post blocked.” He explained, “in case my father sends something
murder-y to me.”
“Stop being so bloody morbid,” Daphne said, her tone almost begging.
“Well, I can be bloody if they remove the wards.”
“Stop!” She said, but she was now trying very hard to refrain from laughing.
They walked the rest of the way together, even Ron Weasley stayed around, he was very
uncharacteristically quiet.
“I still think is so unfair that I wasn’t invited to this gathering,” Pansy said, linking arms with
Hermione, which put the raven-haired girl next to Harry. “I'm your best friend, I should be
number one on the list of 'best friends to invite’.
“I wasn’t invited either,” Draco said, tentatively. Because it was clear that he was trying to be
amicable with her brother despite how much the pair disliked one another. “And I’m the
boyfriend.”
Hermione turned at that, she could feel her cheeks blushing and the moment he caught her
eye, his cheeks did the same.
“And that’s exactly why you weren’t invited.” Daphne pointed out.
“Blaise was!” Draco retorted, much like a child, but the soft smile on his face remained.
“But Draco dear,” Blaise said, finally making his entrance into the conversation. “You didn’t
fit the requirements. Neither did Pansy.”
“And which were the requirements?” Pansy asked sniffly.
“Tragic family history,” Blaise replied facetiously.
Theo snorted, but Weasley was glaring and then decided to be characteristically hostile, “Shut
up Zabini, Harry’s family is not a joking matter.”
Blaise turned to Ron with a single eyebrow raised, and very innocently said, “Harry? And
who’s talking about Harry’s family?” He asked, “I was talking merely about myself here, dad
died when I was a wee thing, don’t remember him, grew up with a series of strange men in
my house that never stuck around. Theo?” He turned to the boy in question.
“Dead mum, should be dead dad, but wants to kill me now instead.” He replied with a shrug.
There was a collective groan of “don't be morbid".
Hermione decided to add her own, “Grew up thinking my parents were biological, turns out
I'm adopted but they don’t know that, so it can turn potentially more tragic.”
Theo grinned at her, “that was good!”
“A-ha!” Pansy said and pointed a victorious finger at Blaise, “mum and dad moved to a very
distant, non-reachable place without telling me and now I can’t contact them!”
Blaise shook his head, “No, they are both alive, it’s not good enough.”
They were arriving at the Great Hall by then. Hermione saw that Harry was grinning a bit,
Ron had noticed that too. A bit dejectedly he asked, “Are you coming for lunch?”
Harry turned and looked at him a bit confusedly, “yeah, of course.” He replied, “See you
later!” Harry told her and very out of character, dropped a kiss on her cheek before going to
the Gryffindor table.
“The incestuous dating rumours!” Blaise called loudly at Harry’s back. It was so loud that got
some people turning to look at them and almost enough to make Hermione miss the soft
sound Pansy had made at Harry’s small gesture.
They all sat in their usual seats and Hermione noticed that Daphne was still looking at the
Gryffindor table. “What?” Hermione asked.
“I really dislike Weasley,” she said casually, “but this—” she pointed to Theo and Blaise,
“has the potential to be very upsetting to him.”
Pansy harrumphed. “First, why on Salazar’s beard are we talking about Weasley? Secondly,
why should we even care?” Daphne just shrugged.
Hermione couldn’t help but to silent agree with Daphne. She didn’t like Ron either and he,
differently from the so-called evil Slytherins, hadn’t made an effort to be nice or befriend her
as her friends had done with Harry. Ok, it might have taken them four years to be at least less
than vicious, but they were all right now.
Later, Pansy showed much more empathy when Harry found them in the library looking a bit
down himself. She listened in silence and without interruptions as he told about Ron’s
comments about money and ‘Harry finding fancy friends’.
“I mean, you all remember what happened at the world cup, right? I literally forgot all about
the money after that! He got really upset that I didn’t know it had disappeared.” He said and
then with a sigh, added, “He said that he hated being poor and that I was making friends with
the sort of people who could misplace a cauldron full of galleons and not feel it.”
“You are never going to say the right thing,” Pansy said, her voice without her usual bite or
sarcasm, “His family is very poor, every last Knut is precious to them. It doesn’t matter that
you don’t flaunt your wealth or even look like you have money, the fact that you can afford to
be careless with it must be hard on him.” She and Harry simply stared at Pansy, Hermione
had to forcefully blink to be sure that it was Pansy there. “What?” She asked, “I'm not
naturally mean, just purposefully!”
Hermione snorted at that but was content that it was really her friend and not some imposter.
Hermione was tired of those.
“He knows that I don’t care about this stuff and that I didn’t grow up with money, I still wear
my cousin’s hand-me-downs—“
“Clearly,” Pansy muttered.
“—He’s my best friend, I’m not going to throw him aside for Theo and Blaise because they
are rich!”
“He knows that Potter,” Pansy said, “But you are this best friend and only close friend. He
has plenty of siblings so he doesn’t see why you make such a big deal of Hermione. He’s not
trying out there trying to befriend she-Weasley’s friends.”
“Ginny.” He said, “it’s really not that hard.”
She smiled at him, “I think it is Henry.”
Hermione snorted. Harry just rolled his eyes and because he was never one to hang around in
the library for too long, he left soon after that. She took the opportunity to finally address the
whole thing with Pansy. “What are you doing?”
Pansy, who was resting her chin against her palm, merely turned her head to look at
Hermione. “Hm?”
“Don't give me that, you know what I’m talking about. I’ve ignored this whole thing long
enough.”
“I'm being friendly.”
“You being friendly is saying good morning to Milli or saying 'excuse me’ when you want to
use the bathroom.” Hermione reminded her, “You are being more than that.”
Pansy grinned, “is this protective big sister behaviour?” She asked, “are you going to ask me
what are my intentions with your brother?”
“That's exactly what I’m asking.”
“He's not so bad.” She said, “I noticed that during the Yule Ball and—” she hesitated, “he's
better when he sees you with us. He defends you now, stands up for you against Weasley’s
bullshit.” Pansy shrugged, “That night when we stole the Gillyweed—” another shrug, “I
don’t know, it was fun, he was fun.”
“You were very nice to him now.” Hermione said, “Thank you.”
“Weasley is Sacred Twenty Eight, did you know that?” Hermione shook her head, “his
mother is a Prewett and she was classmates with my mother, they were close friends back in
the day, but the money issue was always something of a hindrance in their friendship—” a
pause for an eye roll, “and Molly Weasley’s lack of life goals that didn’t involve being a
housewife.” Hermione remembered full well that day that Pansy went on and on about the
Weasley matriarch. She seemed to remember the same thing as well because she added next,
“I think part of my animosity with the Weasleys is because my mom really liked Molly
Prewett at school and she still carries a sort of sorrow for the way their friendship ended. Of
course, it wasn’t only the money thing, the war also happened and Molly lost her two
brothers to it, my mother never fought, she ran just as she did now. But the thing is
Hermione, I grew up with stories of how hard is to find the middle ground when one has
every possible means and the other has none. As the war brewed on, a simple thing like my
mom stopping for ice cream and offering to buy Molly one as well was enough to start a
fight. I won’t ever understand what that feels like, why it can be a big deal to some people
and Potter, he has loads of money, his grandfather was ridiculously famous and he comes
from a line of very famous wizards and—” She stopped.
Hermione’s eyes had gone wide because that meant her as well now didn’t it? The huge
Potter vault was also hers. Merlin, would she ever stop getting shocks about this whole thing?
Thinking about it now, it seemed obvious, of course, Harry’s grandfather was hers too and
consequently, that line of very famous wizards.
Hermione’s parents were dentists, they had their own practice, they weren't poor, she knew
that. Her own reality became much clearer when she realised that the twice-a-year holidays to
the continent were something that her extremely wealthy Slytherin friends also did.
It seemed absurd that she had wizard money that was hers.
Pansy nodded, even though she hadn’t said anything. “Yeah, that’s the feeling. Potter has
only had access to all that money when he came to Hogwarts, so he forgets all about it. He
forgets about money because he has all the money he needs. Weasley can’t seem to forget.
The best thing Potter can do is never approach money as a topic of conversation.”
“And maybe, if you or the others didn't throw in his face every two minutes that he’s poor,
maybe he wouldn’t make things so hard for Harry.” She said in the end.
Pansy only scoffed. “Potter doesn’t need to be coddled. And I really don’t like Weasley, if he
can’t be mature enough to not fall for my comments every single time that’s on him. Or do
you think the older students never tried the same with the twins? Or that annoying brother
that was Head Boy during our second year? Of course, they did. My opinion is that I think
being Harry Potter’s friend is intimidating enough and he feels even more inferior when we
bring that up. Now more than ever.”
Hermione said nothing because even though she had herself told Harry about Ron’s problems
with his jealousy, she still didn’t think it was right Pansy’s approach to the whole thing, but
Hermione had long ago desisted trying to get Pansy to change her ways.
In the end, she just added, “I didn’t know that. About your mum.”
“I usually don’t talk about my family Granger, you know that.”
“Yeah, but about you too, I didn’t know about you wanting to play Quidditch, Blaise told me
that. And that your family were all players.”
Pansy smiled sadly at her, “what is there to tell? That for every dream and aspiration a
woman in my family had, there was a man to squash it?”
“I thought your mum liked being a Medwitch.”
“She does. Because she had to otherwise she wouldn’t be allowed to work at all.”
And maybe Blaise had been wrong about Pansy, maybe she did fit the requirements.
A few days later, Harry invited her to talk - or attempt to - with Winky. Ron was there and
she tried to not fight with him because the conversation with Pansy was still on her mind, but
of course, they ended up arguing because of the house elves.
The attempt at talking with Winky itself had also been terrible. Even though the elf had
participated in trying to drown Hermione, she still felt terribly bad at how poorly the elf was
fairing. But in midst of all the slurring and the crying, there were a few things that Winky had
said that grabbed Hermione’s attention, things like ‘he cannot manage all by himself’ and she
hadn’t been talking about housework but whatever ‘the most important, the most secret’ thing
was.
This meant that there was something that Mr Crouch was keeping secret and his ‘apparent'
illness that kept him from work, or as it was, under polyjuice at Hogwarts had the elf
desperate enough to drown her sorrows in butterbeer. And this, Hermione quickly realised,
meant that she didn’t know Moody was actually Mr Crouch, otherwise she wouldn’t have
reacted that way with the mere possibility of him being ill. So how did Crouch convince her
to spike the food if he hadn't revealed himself?
Hermione’s priority was still trying to catch Rita Skeeter flying around, but the woman was
for once, proving herself to be quite elusive, so she wrote to Sirius telling him about the
entire Winky thing in an attempt to get him to tell her what he wanted her to know.
Her schedule was quite full and she didn’t want to add ‘solving Sirius' mystery’ to the list.
But because nothing ever happened according to plan, when they got to the last week of May,
it was Sirius’ mystery that she solved first.
They were suddenly called inside when they still had an hour until curfew with no
explanation. Professor Snape was nowhere to be seen and they were being watched by the
Bloody Baron.
“What has happened now?” Draco asked. They had managed to get the mezzanine for
themselves, so Hermione's group was the only one up there and she took the opportunity to
lean back against his chest on the sofa, he had an arm thrown around her and his hand was
making small circles on her hip from under the shirt. God, she loved this so much.
She knew she was getting greedy for his touch and company, she wanted to be around him all
the time and wrap her arms around him or pull him for kisses whenever she wished.
“No doubt something Harry Potter-related,” Blaise called.
“Not everything bad that happens is his fault, you know?” She said.
They all levelled her with a look. “Tell me one thing,” Theo added.
“The chamber of secrets!” She said and Draco groaned next to her.
“Don't remind me of that.” He said
“His odds are not so bad this year,” Daphne commented.
Theo snorted, “I think he capped early on with his name being drawn to the Tournament.”
Hermione rolled her eyes and refused to contribute further to the conversation, just kept
listening as her friends pointed out everything that had happened during their four years of
schooling that had to do with Harry. She really hoped it wasn’t anything related to her
brother, but if it was, well, she’d learn about it tomorrow.
“POTTER!” He shouted as he saw the boy running towards him. Harry skidded to a halt in
front of him. “What are you doing here, Potter?”
“I need to see Professor Dumbledore!” The boy said quite desperately, running the last steps
and skidding to a standstill in front of him. “It’s Mr Crouch! He’s just turned up… he’s in the
forest—”
“What is this rubbish?” Severus asked, and then lowered his voice. “What are you talking
about? You know that—”
“I know!” Harry shouted. “I know! But he’s there! And he really looks ill or something —
he’s in the forest, he wants to see Dumbledore! Just give me the password up to—”
“The headmaster is busy, Potter,” Severus replied, his thin mouth curling into an unpleasant
smile. He just had been turned down by the Headmaster and he’d never forgive the old man if
he saw the boy and not him.
“I’ve got to tell Dumbledore!” Harry yelled and Severus glared.
“Didn’t you hear me, Potter?”

“Look,” the boy said angrily, but had the good sense of lowering his voice, “I know he’s
supposed to be teaching Defense, but something’s wrong! Crouch himself is there in the
forest and he’s out of his mind, he—”
The stone wall behind Severus slid open. Of course. Dumbledore was suddenly not so busy
anymore, but standing there, wearing long green robes and a mildly curious expression. “Is
there a problem?” he asked, looking between Harry and himself.
“Professor!” Harry said, sidestepping him before he could reply to their annoying
headmaster. “Mr Crouch is here— he’s down in the forest, he wants to speak to you!”
“Lead the way,” he said promptly, and he swept off along the corridor behind Harry, not
wasting a second look at Severus. He glared at their backs and went to his office.
If Mr Crouch was indeed in the forest, that meant whatever Narcissa had set to do had gone
very wrong. Or very right. It was difficult to know a Malfoy’s intention.
As expected, Narcissa’s silvery peacock was waiting for him. “Severus,” it said, the moment
he entered, “Pettigrew was keeping Crouch under Imperious in his house. He has done a
terrible job of it and the man has clearly created resistance to it as well as gotten slightly
demented. He couldn’t hold a conversation with me and I made sure to stay long enough so
the curse would wear off. You might find him in the castle sometime soon. Unfortunately,
Pettigrew wasn’t brave enough to come out of whatever hole his rat form had scurried in to
stop the man from leaving. Or me.”
It seemed impossible, but her Patronus carried the same arrogant air that she did.
“It's pleasant to know that some people still know their superiors.” The peacock spoke last
and Severus rolled his eyes at that.
Just as he had left to go find Dumbledore, the announcement echoed in the walls. All students
to return immediately to their dormitory. No student is allowed to be outside.
It was almost an immediate reaction, his feet hushed and he had to make an effort to not go
straight to the hospital wing to see if his daughter was there petrified.
There were some students still lingering in the castle, no doubt having seen Dumbledore and
Harry leave the castle in a hurry. He glared at them and sent them all to their common rooms.
Severus called the Bloody Baron and ordered it to keep watch in the Slytherin Common room
and not allow any student to leave.
He didn’t need to look much for them, because he could hear Karkaroff bellowing from the
edge of the forest, not much farther than where Ludo Bagman told the champions about the
third task - the topic of Severus’ conversation with Dumbledore.
“It is a plot!” Severus heard Igor saying and followed the sound, “You and your Ministry of
Magic have lured me here under false pretences, Dumbledore!” Lured, as if they much cared
for him. “This is not an equal competition! First, you sneak Potter into the tournament,
though he is underage! Now one of your Ministry friends attempts to put my champion out of
action!” That was why Karkaroff was in hysterics, his precious Krum had been attacked. “I
smell double-dealing and corruption in this whole affair, and you, Dumbledore, you, with
your talk of closer international wizarding links, of rebuilding old ties, of forgetting old
differences — here’s what I think of you!”
Severus was lucky enough to arrive just as Karkaroff spat at Dumbledore’s feet. Incredible,
his day had managed to improve after all. And kept on as Hagrid, blind with loyalty for
Dumbledore as always, swiftly seized the front of Karkaroff’s robes, lifted him into the air,
and slammed him against a nearby tree.
“Apologise!” Hagrid snarled as Karkaroff gasped for breath. It was quite a scene.
“Hagrid, no!” Albus shouted, his eyes flashing with something that Severus had yet to learn
what meant. Was that anger? Was Dumbledore capable of such human emotion?
Hagrid removed the hand pinning Karkaroff to the tree, and Karkaroff slid all the way down
the trunk and slumped in a huddle at its roots; a few twigs and leaves showered down upon
his head.
“Things seem to be quite lively.” He mentioned, letting the others know he was there. Harry
looked at him curiously. Severus took it as an invitation to brush through the boy’s mind.
What’s happened? Snape said something about Crouch,
Barty had taken to manufacture conversations as well. He looked around, the man was
nowhere to be seen. Most likely vanishing whatever was left of his father.
“Kindly escort Harry back up to the castle, Hagrid,” Dumbledore said sharply. Breathing
heavily, Hagrid was still glowering at Karkaroff. He hesitated. “You will take Harry back to
school, Hagrid,” Dumbledore repeated firmly. “Take him right up to Gryffindor Tower. And
Harry—“ he turned to the boy, “I want you to stay there. Anything you might want to do —
any owls you might want to send — they can wait until morning, do you understand me?”
The boy nodded and very quickly glanced at Severus. He held the boy’s stare enough to see a
glimpse of the boy’s wish to write to his godfather. Yes, apparently Dumbledore was also
looking into the boy’s mind as he pleased.
Hagrid left his dog behind as if Fang would be some help to Dumbledore against Karkaroff.
Severus strongly disliked stupid sentiment. He looked at Dumbledore and he knew that his
face was a very petulant look of ‘and now? Are you going to talk to me or should I get an
appointment for another hour?’
Dumbledore sighed at him and then turned to Karkaroff. “I will accompany you and Viktor to
the Hospital Wing, Igor.” He said, “rest assured that I am going to investigate the happenings
of tonight, you are welcome to take part in every conversation on the matter.”
Karkaroff muttered something unpleasant under his breath as he helped Krum like the boy
was some kind of invalid.
They walked in silence and as promised, Dumbledore took them to Madam Pomfrey and
briefly explained to her the situation. Finally, he turned to Severus, “I believe your office is
closer than mine.”
“Very well.”
Dumbledore sat down in one of the armchairs and conjured a cup of tea from the kitchens as
he waited for Severus to put his usual set of wards and anti-spying spells.
Severus wasn’t above ‘I told you so’, therefore he opened the conversation with, “I told you
that you would have a death in your hands.”
“We don’t know yet—”
“Moody told that I said something about Crouch that was why he was on his way,” he said, “I
haven’t seen the man today.”
Albus didn’t waste a breath, “I have told you to keep out of the boy’s mind.”
“Potter's thoughts are clearer than if I looked into a mirror, Albus.” He said, which was
mostly true. “I would have to avoid eye contact completely with the boy to not read his mind
when he’s anxious.” Severus found that he was polite to not add that the headmaster had done
exactly the same thing. “The matter, Headmaster,” He started again, “is that Moody was
already on his way because he was at the scene in the first place.”
“From what Harry described to me, Crouch seemed to be under the effects of a long but
fading Imperius Curse.” The headmaster said.
He simply nodded. Narcissa had told him that already. “He must have gotten word that dear
father had escaped and came to investigate. Then he cursed the other boy when Potter left
before disappearing with his father’s body.”
“You are so certain that Barty Crouch Sr is dead,” Dumbledore commented.
“I happen to know Barty.” He said with a snarl, “he never stunned when he could kill. And
most definitely wouldn’t allow his father to talk to you.”
Dumbledore only stroked his beard to that, but then he added, “You might be right to worry
about the third task Severus.” He said, “Barty Jr left Harry and Viktor alive even though both
boys learned quite a bit from the mumblings of Crouch Sr. Apparently Bertha Jorkins’
disappearance is his fault, as well as something related to his son.”
“He couldn’t simply kill two champions in Hogwarts ground. He wants to make it an
accident. Hagrid is lending his pet Acromantula to the task, which has already tried to kill the
boy once if you don’t remember.”
“I do remember Severus, I might be old but my memory still serves me quite well.” He said
and Severus just huffed. Dumbledore gave him a long look and with twinkling eyes, asked “I
believe it’s time that you start contacting those old friends of yours, with Voldemort getting
stronger, you need to be seen as interested in joining the old crowd.”
Severus willed his fingers to remain unmoved, even though he wanted nothing more than to
curl them into fists. “I will.”
“I’m going to reach out to my contacts in the Ministry to find out what exactly is Bertha
Jorkins’ relation to all of this. If Mr Crouch believed that her disappearance was her fault
then it can only mean that she might have discovered what he was hiding in his house and her
impromptu holiday in Albania was the result of a memory charm and an Imperius Curse after
that.”
“And she was incredibly unlucky to cross paths with Voldemort.”
Dumbledore nodded. “We had already surmised that Voldemort might have found the
information on the World Cup and the Tournament from her.” Another long look, “I’m
calling the Order again Severus. We don’t know how much Voldemort and Barty Jr have
infiltrated the Ministry by taking hold of Crouch, the security of the third task might be
compromised.”
“Half of the order is dead.” Severus pointed out.
Dumbledore only smiled, “there are always people willing to fight for a better world Severus,
hope never dies.”
He didn’t reply to that, but also didn’t roll his eyes, which he counted as a win. “I better go.”
He said instead, “I have some school reunion to work through.”
Dumbledore smiled, “It's always good to socialise.”

…
“Harry!” Hermione called the next morning, she had gotten up early and climbed all the way
to the Gryffindor Tower to meet Harry there. She didn’t want to wait through breakfast and
they didn’t have any classes together that day.
“Hey!” He greeted, “I was going after you.”
“I figured, decided to meet you instead,”
He grinned, “Come, I need to tell you everything.” He turned to Ron, “save me a seat mate, I
will be there in a minute.”
Ron nodded and followed Neville, Seamus and Dean to the Great hall.
“How's he?” She asked, she might not like him very much, but he was still Harry’s best
friend and Harry was being more than tolerant with her friends.
“We talked, we are fine now,” Harry said.
“Good, I don’t want you to fight with him because of me.” She said and Harry chuckled.
“Well, I told him that he doesn’t want to fight with me because of you, so…”
She held his hand and squeezed. “Thank you,”

“Well, I couldn’t let all these Slytherin have your back while I did nothing, now could I?” He
asked and without waiting for a reply, tugged her to follow him.
They went down a few floors, getting lucky that one of them led them directly to the third
floor and then straight to the One-eyed Witch statue, “Dissendium! Harry said.
Hermione quickly rushed inside and Harry entered behind her. “We are not actually going to
Hogsmeade are we?” She asked when Harry walked a bit further down the passageway.
“No,” He shook his head, “Just making sure no one can overhear us.” He replied, As you
know, there’s always the odd chance that Skeeter could be listening.”
Hermione nodded. She was working on that actually, but she still had to get that rubbish
journalist. “Okay, spill. What happened yesterday?”
“I saw Crouch. Literally Mr Crouch, not Mr Crouch as Moody.” He said and she frowned.
“What?” Hermione asked, “how's that possible? He—”
“Exactly! I was talking with Krum, he took me aside after we learned about the third task—
it’s a maze by the way and Krum really thinks that there is something going on between us,
that’s what he wanted to talk about with me—” Hermione made a disgusted face at the
thought of people taking seriously the incestuous rumours and just motioned for him to
continue, “while we were talking, Mr Crouch appeared and let me tell you, Hermione, his
appearance was terrible, he looked like he had walked all the way to Hogwarts. His robes
were ripped on his legs and he was bloody on his face and hands like he fought his way out
of somewhere. I don’t think he has shaved or seen a shower in months.”
“But how is that possible? We saw him on the map, we—”
“I know, but wait, the oddest thing was his behaviour, he kept muttering and gesticulating, at
first, he thought that a tree was Percy and he kept giving orders to it, he seemed really mad. I
don’t think he had any notion of time because he said that his wife and son would arrive
shortly! But they are dead! And then he said something that I believe had to do with the
organization of the tournament, but when I approached him and mentioned Dumbledore, he
grew desperate to talk to him and his entire behaviour changed completely. He kept saying
that he needed to warn Dumbledore, that was basically the thing he kept repeating all the
time. But he said some other things, like Bertha’s death was his fault and that his son was
also his fault. Hermione, he said that he escaped! He was supposed to be Moody, but he was
being held somewhere and he escaped and came straight to warn Dumbledore.”
“Escaped?” Hermione asked. Her mind reeled.
“Yes, it sounds like someone was keeping him somewhere all this time.”
“But if he—” Hermione stopped. “Harry, if Crouch was being held hostage all along, this
means that—”
If he continues like that, things are going to escape him just like his son.
Hermione gasped and her mind went back to the conversation they had with Sirius before the
easter break. He had been acting weird and he wanted her to notice something.
Her eyes were wide and she could feel her hands starting to shake. “That's what Sirius
wanted me to figure out.” She said, “Crouch said that his son was his fault, right? What if he
didn’t mean his death, but something else? What if he wasn’t the only one to escape?”
Not leave parenting duties to a house elf, pay more attention, maybe then he wouldn’t have
lost him.
Merlin, she was right, wasn’t she? That was the missing link. The reason she and Draco
couldn’t make it make sense that day in the library. Crouch’s motives were lacking. He had
all the means to supervise the tournament himself. He had nothing against Harry or
Hermione, he didn’t need the siblings dead like—like one of Voldemort’s followers would
need.
“Harry,” Hermione gasped. “We had it all wrong.”
“What?”
“Everything. Winky wasn’t alone in the box, she didn’t steal the wand from you, she—” the
most important, the most secret "That's it!” She exclaimed, “That's Winky’s secret and her
job, what Crouch can’t do it alone!”
“Hermione, I can’t follow if you don’t voice everything that runs through your mind.”
“Winky wasn’t alone in the box Harry! She was chaperoning! She wasn’t saving Mr Crouch
a seat, she was supervising Barty Jr! He stole your wand, not Winky! He has the Dark Mark,
he was the one to cast it! That’s why Winky had the wand and why, as you said, Crouch went
to search in the bushes! That’s why he grew desperate that Winky was alone!”
“Hermione, Hermione, slow down, you are forgetting a very important thing here, Barty Jr is
dead, he died in Azkaban, Sirius saw—” He stopped and his green eyes widened. “He saw
the dementors bring in Crouch and his sickly wife and then leave again with them.” Harry
said, “and then both mother and son died shortly after, the dementors took the body, no one
came for Barty Jr.”
Hermione nodded, “But Dementors can’t really see, can they?” She asked, “that's how Sirius
escaped. They can only feel the prisoner's emotions. A dog or a man, they never noticed. A
sickly man and a sickly woman, what if—”
“Crouch brought his dying wife and left with his dying son,” Harry concluded.
Hermione nodded. “He probably had some Polyjuice to hide the fact that he wasn’t carrying
his wife anymore to the other prisoners. Sirius was acting strange, he kept looking at me like
he expected me to get what he was trying to say and it got me thinking… Now everything
makes sense.”
"The map showed Barty Crouch, but both father and son have the same name, it wouldn’t
know how to differentiate,” Harry said, nodding.
“He’s the third man,” Hermione said. “The missing piece on everything. The dark mark, your
name on the goblet, the man in your dreams.”
“Hermione, yesterday when I returned with Dumbledore, Krum had been stupefied and
Crouch had disappeared—“
“Viktor was attacked?”
“Yeah, he’s fine, whatever, Dumbledore told Hagrid to go after Moody and then Moody
suddenly appeared, claiming that Snape had told him what happened, but Snape didn’t look
like he had talked to Moody, which means that he was probably around, to begin with.”
Hermione nodded, “he must have known that his father escaped and was the one to attack
Viktor and then disappear with Crouch,”
“Mr Crouch is probably dead by now,” Harry said. “Hermione, Barty is a Death Eater, we
have to tell Dumbledore, we—”
“Dumbledore knows, Harry.” She said, her voice almost a whisper and then it hit her. They
all knew. If Sirius knew that the real person beneath the Polyjuice was Barty Jr, then Remus
and Professor Snape also knew.
She felt betrayed and lied to. She was the one to bring the map to Professor Snape, to show
him who was pretending to be their Defence teacher and he didn’t bother to correct her, to tell
her that the actual person behind her drowning attempt was an escaped Death Eater who had
taken part in the torture of Neville’s parents.
Hermione knew that Professor Snape had lied that day when she cornered him about Remus'
presence, that his excuse was merely that, an excuse. They were all working together yes, but
Sirius had been left out at first. Remus was lying to Sirius before she forced them to tell him
what was going on. And he was probably still lying. Hermione had caught Remus watching,
during their week at their place, she noticed how he’d sometimes keep his distance from
Sirius, look at him like he was grieving as he would lose him.
And maybe Sirius knew that Remus was keeping something, that was why he wanted her to
find out this, so at least one of them wouldn’t be lied to.
“You've gone awfully quiet,” Harry said. “Dumbledore knows and? What other impossible
realisation have you just come through?”
“They all know.” She said, “Professor Snape, Remus and Sirius. They all knew that it wasn’t
Mr Crouch, but Barty Jr. They kept it from us.”
“I admit that I don’t like it, but what I find a bit more pressing is the fact that Dumbledore
knows and we still have a class with Moody tomorrow,” Harry said and his tone revealed just
how worried he was about that.
Hermione scoffed. “Why does Dumbledore do anything?” She asked bitterly, “He knew
about Quirrell and still let us go down after the stone, he knew it was Lucius’ book that
opened the Chamber, Merlin he knew Sirius was innocent and still—”
“He knew you were my sister and didn’t tell us.” He finished and that seemed to be
Dumbledore’s biggest crime in Harry’s eyes. “He probably wants me to see this Tournament
through,” He finished.
She grabbed his arms and pulled him a bit closer to her, “Promise me you will be careful.”
She said, “not only during the last task but around Moody, please Harry,”
“Hermione,” he said calmly, “I promise you, I’m not going to run into dang—”
“But you do! You always—”
“Because Dumbledore doesn’t tell me the truth! He lies and hides and wants me to find
things on my own. I talked with Sirius during easter, you know what he told me?” Hermione
shook her head, “that the reason all of his friends are dead is that they decided to trust
Dumbledore instead of trusting each other. He told me not to make the same mistake because
Dumbledore’s main goal is always going to be the war, not the people involved.”
Hermione nodded. That’s why, at the end of the day, Sirius and Narcissa were working
together even though they seemed unable to stand one another. Because ultimately, they knew
that both Voldemort and Dumbledore cared only about the victory, not its soldiers.
“But we know now, Sirius has told you what you needed to connect everything, I know not to
trust Moody and instead pay attention to what he wants. I know to turn to you, to Sirius and
Remus—” he chuckled, "Merlin even Snape has been more forthcoming than Dumbledore.”
Hermione chuckled and mentally added that comment to her list of Absurd Happenings.
They left quietly, making sure that no one saw them exiting the passageway and finally went
to have breakfast.
It was odd, having to wait for the third task. Odder still was helping Harry practice for it with
her group of friends all present. Harry had written to Sirius about the third task and in return,
he gave Harry a list of spells to learn and practice. They were meeting almost daily in one of
the unused classrooms in the dungeons and Hermione was mostly sure that Professor Snape
knew and was looking the other way.
Harry was going through the stunning spell, it was a bit advanced but Harry was very good
with offensive spells. Blaise and Ron were currently alternating between being the targets,
while Theo rearranged the cushions around them and used the waking spell on the few times
Harry was successful.
Hermione was reading through the sixth and seventh-year textbooks for Defence because
they all agreed that she was the best with books and they would all fare much better if she
was the one to study the theory and tell them how to apply it in practice. Draco, who still had
to talk to Harry, was sitting next to her reading as well. She wasn’t certain whether his
ultimate goal was to learn upper-level spells or to have his arm around her waist and his
fingers going circles on her skin under her shirt.
Either way, Hermione wasn’t going to complain.
The door opened just as Blaise was blasted back and they froze for a second before Daphne’s
blond locks came into view, Pansy was right behind her.
Daphne grinned, “My detention with Hagrid was completely successful.” She announced and
Hermione noticed that a few strands of her hair were out of place, but she looked too pleased
with herself to mind. “It’s honestly so easy to get him talking. Potter,” she called and stopped
right in the middle of where the boys were practising. “Those Blasted Skrewts are going to be
in the maze.”
“Blast-Ended Skrewts.” Hermione corrected.
Daphne shrugged, “I just helped him feed the biggest ones and when I very casually asked
why those were separated from the others and receiving more food he told me that it was
because they are going to play a very special part soon.”
“Thanks, Greengrass,” he said.
“Nah, just got Slytherin fifteen points for being attentive, helpful and an outstanding listening
ear.” She replied and Hermione rolled her eyes.
Daphne joined the boys in their practice, but curiously enough she began to just cast on
Blaise and Theo.
Pansy sat down next to Hermione, took a single glance at Draco’s hand beneath her shirt,
scowled and got up, “Get a room.” She muttered before stomping to the other side.
Draco sniggered and hid his face in the crook of her neck, “I really want to get a room, you
know?” He murmured and Hermione felt her entire face blushing and she slapped playfully at
him. He laughed and the sound caught the other’s attention. She blushed, even more, when
she saw their expressions upon Hermione and Draco being basically wrapped in one another.
“Potter!” Pansy said, a bit too loudly. “You should practice Lumos Solem as well, please try it
on my eye so I will be blinded and therefore free from that sight."
“Don't be so dramatic Pans,” Daphne said while she helped a grumbling Blaise to his feet. “I
think it’s cute.”
“Thank you Daph!” Draco called, still amused.
“Remove your hands from under my sister’s shirt Malfoy,” Harry barked, which only
prompted Draco to smirk and pinch her, making her jump on her seat in turn. Harry glared
and Draco very innocently raised his hands above his head and leaned back on his chair.
Harry was still glaring and Draco refused to drop the smirk, Hermione sighed and shook her
head minimally. Small, turtle steps.
Pansy got in Harry’s field of vision and snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Focus on
me, Potter.” She said. “I just left the greenhouses, Longbottom was so very kind to show me
around. Professor Sprout is growing the Devil’s Snare.”
“Did you do anything to Neville?” He asked and she grinned widely. Hermione noticed how
Harry took a moment to take his fill.
“Nothing that he won’t recover,” Pansy replied. At the same moment, Ron took an angry step
forward, she raised a hand to stop him. “I was being sarcastic Weasley, don’t get your
knickers in a twist, Longbottom is fine. He was nice.”
Draco made a small noise next to her, “it always gives me chills when she calls someone
nice.” He whispered to her.
Hermione nodded. But guessed that since she was in a good mood, nothing too terrible must
have happened. She even refrained from provoking Ron.
Well, turtle steps.
Hermione had a free period since she stopped attending Divination and she was currently in
the library working on her jar. She had finally figured out the Unbreakable Charm, so it
wouldn’t allow her to transform again. She just needed to work on how to get the annoying
beetle close enough to be captured.
“Granger, your brother did it again,” Pansy said as hello. Hermione checked her watch and
saw that Divination had ended five minutes ago.
“Did what?” She asked sighing. Maybe it was too much to ask for a moment of peace when it
came to Harry.
“He fell asleep during Trewlaney’s class and—” Pansy hesitated, “I don’t know what
happened, but he had a sort of dream, he fell on the floor and—”
“Pansy! Out with it!”
“He started writhing and screaming, he looked like—” Pansy shivered, “like he was in real
pain, he had both hands pressing against his scar and Weasley was trying to wake him up.
Trewlaney believed he had a seer dream, but—”
“No. It wasn’t, he—” She stopped, deciding not to disclose Harry’s weird dreams. “Where is
he?”
“He was supposed to go to the Hospital Wing, but he’s not there. I trailed Weasley and he
wasn’t there.”
Hermione nodded, Harry had probably gone to Dumbledore. Despite their mistrust of the
Headmaster, Sirius also agreed that the best way to deal with these dreams was to go direct to
Dumbledore. She sighed. “He's probably okay.”
Pansy looked at her warily, “he didn’t look okay.”
“I know. He had that kind of dream before.” She said.

“I'm really, really glad that I’m not Potter.”
Hermione didn’t say anything to that, but secretly, she felt the same.
She didn’t understand how Harry could still be so… Harry. Kind, loyal and just inherently
good. Despite Harry having never talked about it, she wasn’t stupid and she knew he had it
rough with the Dursleys.
Hermione might not be the best example to compare with, because she too was spending
much more time in the wizarding world than with her muggle parents but it didn’t change the
fact she missed them, that she wrote her parents weekly and when she did return, she always
had a lovely time with them. Harry never talked about the Dursleys unless it was to say
something alarming. Hermione had seen the lack of presents or letters, or how Harry dreaded
the train back. He had bars on his window, for Merlin’s sake! But still, he cared so much for
others and was always willing to go above and beyond for those he cared. Hermione hated to
think that this trait of his could be exploited.
“Hermione!” Someone called and she jumped, not just by the tone but about the school bag
being dropped on top of the table.
“Oi, Potter, I know you might be a bit confused in the head, but this is not the Gryffindor
Common Room, so please,” Pansy snapped, pushing his bag to the floor.
Thinking of him, “Hey Harry,” she greeted, “Pansy told me about Divination.”
He glared at Pansy, “Of course she did.” He said, “What did you say?”
“That you fainted and cried like a baby” Pansy replied readily.
“She said no such thing.” Hermione said with an eye roll, “Honestly! You said he didn’t—”
“Okay!” Pansy said loudly and got up, “I got to go. Places to be, Hufflepuffs to torment, first
years to make cry. See you Granger, Henry.” And just like that, she picked up her shoulder
bag and rushed out of the library.
Harry watched her go with a frown, “what was that?” He asked, “she's not really going to do
all of that, is she?”
Hermione snorted, “It's quite possible. But you never know with her.” But Hermione couldn’t
help but think it was curious. Pansy had cared before.
“Anyway, it’s good that she left, I need to tell with what happened.”
And Harry filled her in about the contents of the dream and about everything he saw on
Dumbledore’s pensive. “He let me watch the whole thing, Hermione.” He said exasperated,
“I don’t know when he got there, but I’m certain he didn’t call me back as soon as he arrived.
It was like he wanted me to see those memories.”
She snorted. “I don’t doubt it. He probably left it there on purpose for you to find. We all
know how hard is for you to keep your nose away from trouble.” She said and he knew she
was mostly joking by her tone. Harry shrugged sheepishly. “But it’s interesting all the same.
Karkaroff gave away many names, it makes sense that he’s terrified about the Dark Mark
getting darker.”
“Rosier, Travers, Dolohov, Mulciber, Rookwood and Snape,” Harry repeated.
“And about your dream? Have you written Sirius yet?” Harry nodded, “Good, he would like
to know. But however weird they are, truth or not, we can assume that Crouch is dead then?”
Harry nodded again, “If we can trust my dreams, I believe that Voldemort was torturing
Wormtail for letting Crouch escape, which means that he was holding him hostage and
writing all those letters.”
“Well,” Hermione said soberly, “If Barty wasn’t guilty then—like he claimed on the memory
you saw, he clearly is now. I mean, killing his own father?”
Hermione then lowered her voice. “We have him twice a week for an hour and a half!”
“He doesn’t suspect that we are onto him though, the other day he stopped me after class and
asked if I needed help with spells for the third task.”
“Tell me you didn’t accept it.”
“Of course, I didn’t. I told him that I was working on it already.” Harry replied.
“Good.” She said. “The task is in twenty days and then this will be all over.”
“These meetings are getting ridiculous,” Narcissa said upon arrival. “What is this place
anyway?” She said, looking around. “A hell hole?”
Black snorted.
“This place Cissy,” Severus started, “is my home.”
“Oh,” she said, non-perturbed, “do you want me to send a house elf? Maybe two?”
“That won’t be necessary.” He replied curtly.

Graciously, Narcissa remained silent, but her expression told that she disagreed.
“Well, greetings exchanged, let’s go straight to the point,” Remus said, ignoring the fact that
neither Black nor Severus had said a word since arrival. “Harry had another dream,” Remus
told them and handed him the letter, Narcissa leaned closer to read. “That's what he wrote
Sirius. He has informed Dumbledore of it as well.”
He read Harry’s pitiful handwriting and then gave the piece of parchment to Narcissa, who
frowned more and more as she read.
“It's different from what I thought,” Narcissa said once she finished, and handed the letter
back to Remus.
“And what, did you think before?” He asked. He remembered how she had reacted to the first
dream, asking questions about Harry’s point of view on the entire thing.
She was massaging her hands, “The first dream, he saw a muggle and the Dark Lord's snake.
He didn’t get to see the Dark Lord.” She said, “Now, he also could see Pettigrew and the
snake, but not the Dark Lord.”
Black was glaring at her cousin, “He said he was the owl.” He hissed.
“He wasn’t the owl.” Narcissa replied sharply, “he hasn’t noticed yet, but I assure you, he
wasn’t the owl.”
Severus frowned, “What do you mean?”
Narcissa swallowed, “I believe, that these dreams are not visions of the past or the future. I
believe that the boy sees them as it happens.”
“You are wrong,” Black said angrily.
Narcissa ignored him. “The mark,” she said, pulling on Severus’ left arm and without
preamble rolling his sleeve up. He tried to push his arm from her but her grip was vicious.
“Gets darker as he gets stronger. He uses it to contact his followers and his followers get a
feeling of his mood before arrival.” She said and finally let go of his arm, she turned at him,
“isn't it correct?”
“Yes.” He hissed and hid the mark again. Bloody woman. “We know when he’s angry
enough.”
She smiled coldly, “and was he angry enough this evening?”
Severus gave a curt nod.
“So, what?” Remus asked, “what are you saying? That somehow Harry has this—what?
Connection?”
She nodded. “We know that his scar hurts when he’s close to the Dark Lord—”
“And how do you know that?” Sirius asked angrily.
“And that it was hurting during the summer before the world cup and then both times when
he woke from those dreams.” She continued, completely ignoring her cousin. “It’s obvious,
isn’t it? Well, the entire wizarding world knows that Harry Potter’s scar is no ordinary scar.”
“Narcissa,” Black said and his voice was low and grave, Severus was curious to know why
Black seemed so bothered by the information.
“You know I’m right.” She said, pointing a finger at him, “that's why you are snappy. He
wasn’t an owl sitting at the back of the chair.” She said sarcastically.
Severus frowned. “You think he was the Dark Lord.” He said.
“I think the boy can see through the Dark Lord’s eyes whenever he feels strongly about
something.”
“You think there’s a connection between Harry and Voldemort, through the scar,” Remus
said, surmising the whole thing.
Narcissa nodded.
Black had taken to walk around the small living room, he was shaking his head and despite
being an odd behaviour, it wasn’t odd to Black’s standards, just incredibly annoying.
“Sirius,” Remus called, his voice disgustingly soft and he stopped the dog with a hand on his
elbow, “what are you thinking?”
“Voldemort doesn’t know.” He said. “This connection—whatever this is—He doesn’t know,
otherwise he wouldn’t be showing Harry parts of his plans. Can’t you see? The fucking mark
was created by him, it’s a one-way, controlled method of communication. The scar? It was an
accident. He meant to kill Harry, but he failed and Harry got the scar. But if he does find out
—” he shook his head, “he can use it. Not only to see through Harry’s eyes but to send him
false dreams. He’s the best Legillimens that there is!” Both he and Narcissa scoffed at that.
“And if Harry learns about the true meaning of his dreams, he’s going to try to explore it. We
all know how he is!” Black went back to walking back and forth. “He will try to enter
Voldemort’s mind on purpose.”
“So, we teach him Occlumency,” Remus said.
He and Narcissa exchanged a glance. “He would never allow me to teach him,” Severus said.
“Allow you?” Narcissa said with a scoff, “he's a fourteen-year-old boy and you are his
teacher.”
“And Occlumency learning requires trust! He will need to allow me inside his head, to walk
through his memories together. Tell me, how do you see that happening with the boy who
still believes that I want him dead?” He retorted.
“Well, obviously I can’t be the one to do it.” She replied.
Black was shaking his head. “I can talk to him if it comes to that. He has the third task in two
weeks, let’s wait for that. Merlin knows he doesn’t need anything else on his mind now.” He
said, “Come on Moony, let’s go home.”
They left and Severus watched Narcissa linger in his living room for a moment.
“You know more than you are letting on.”
She gave him a small smile, “I always do.”
“But this. You figured this quickly enough, which means…You’ve heard of it before.”
It was quick, gone in a flash but he saw it, the tensing of her jaw and the glazing of her eyes.
She cast half a dozen of spells on his armchair before sitting down, “I was working on
something before the end of the war.” She told him. “I wasn’t working on it alone and we—”
her voice cracked. Severus frowned, there was a reason why Narcissa had received the
nickname Ice Queen. “I think it might be related.”
“What is it Narcissa?”
“I don’t know.” She said. Narcissa was a very good liar, but Severus knew she was telling
him the truth. And then she added, “But Regulus did.”
Chapter End Notes
Thank you for reading, if you have the time, please leave a comment.
I will try my best to post another chapter before September as I recently found out my
classes only start on the 12th I still have quite some time on my summer hols.
The title and the quote at the beginning belong to Mary on a Cross by Ghost (yes I've
been spending too much time on TikTok)
shining just half of its truth to our skies
Chapter Notes
Hello!! Well, this one was quick! Somehow I wrote this monster of a chapter in one day
(yesterday). I thinks it's something around 11k words so I'm sorry in advance. And I'm
sorry for any mistakes this is the result of a sleepless night.
I sincerely hope you enjoy reading it.
The title and the quote at the beginning belong to Sing of the Moon by The Colletion
But who are our doubts said to?

Some half of the evening knew
Of listening ears, long withdrew
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Hermione wished that the castle’s mood would fall upon her, but with the end of the year
exams and the third task merely days away, she felt like her stress levels were skyrocketing.
Maybe it was hormones, because of course she got her period as well as everything else she
had to deal with, but whatever the reason, Draco was currently massaging her back as she
breathed deeply. “Shh, it’s going to be fine Granger. You are going to do amazing, you know
that.”
“No,” she cried, “I haven’t studied how much I wanted, I am so behind in Defence Against
the Dark Arts because I’m terrified of that class—” she hiccuped, “I am certain that I failed
Flitwick’s exam yesterday, I just know it.”
He kissed her hair above her ear and kept his forehead resting against her head. “You didn’t
fail, that is simply impossible, but we can ask Flitwick if you want, we both know that he
likes telling you your scores.” He told her and his voice was soothing, his hands too, and
Hermione felt her body sagging against his. “And we can work together on Defence too. Go
over the spells, whatever you want.”
She shook her head, “I can’t,” she cried and her entire body shivered with her streaming
tears, “I have to help Harry.”
“They are helping him. Potter did it, he worked his charms on our year, everyone is helping.”
He told her and pulled her so she would sit against his chest, wrapping his arms around her
middle, Hermione let her head fall on his chest and she held his hands. Despite Harry and
Draco still being mute around one another, there was no bitterness in his tone as he talked
about his friends helping her brother.
Draco held her until she calmed down and as he promised, they went back to studying. She
knew he was done with his studies and the only reason he was still revising was because of
her. She leaned to kiss him, “Thank you,”
He smiled in the kiss and before she could pull away he held her face with both hands and
looked into her eyes, “how is it possible that I find every corner and inch of you completely
captivating?” He murmured and she felt her cheeks blushing.
“You are impossible.” She whispered and with much difficulty, pulled away from him, “I
can’t wait for summer, uninterrupted time with you.”
He grinned something devilish and she felt every hair on her body rising, “Oh my, Granger,
you have no idea.” He said and his eyes had gotten into that darker shade of grey that
Hermione knew perfectly well what it meant. He crossed his legs and pulled a pillow to his
lap, “I feel like reading about some goblin rebellions now,” he muttered and she giggled.
On the morning of the task, before the History of Magic exam and after checking with
Flitwick her score - an Outstanding thankfully, she was called to Professor Snape’s office
alongside Theo and Draco. The trio looked at one another in confusion. She felt her palms
sweating in fear that she had somehow screwed up her Potion.
“Miss Granger, please stop shaking,” was Professor Snape’s greeting. “This is not about the
potions’ exam.” He said and she glared at Theo and Draco who were both smirking.
“Why did you want to see us, professor?” Theo asked.
Hermione was still a bit bitter, she had confronted Professor Snape about him not telling her
that they were having classes with Barty Jr instead of Mr Crouch and despite a long glare and
an even longer silence that had Hermione wondering if he’d reply, he told her that it was to
keep them safe. Hermione had a very hard time trying to understand how being unaware of
the real risk would protect them.
“As you are well aware, this evening we will have the third and final task of the
Tournament,” they all nodded. He turned to Hermione, “And since you three are particularly
knowledgeable regarding our staff members, I wish to remind you that under no
circumstances, no matter what he tells you, you are to leave the company of your friends and
follow him.”
Hermione frowned, “why would I do such a thing?”
“Because the Headmaster believes that whatever plan Barty has for Mr Potter, tonight is the
last chance he has to achieve it. I don’t need to remind you that he tried to drown you last
time Miss Granger.” He said and she gulped. She felt Draco’s hand finding hers. “We are
going to have extra security today, Aurors and undercover wizards patrolling the area to
watch for any suspicious activity, but as Moody likes to say—“
“Constant vigilance,” The trio said together.
“I thought this was fake-Moody only,” Theo added.
“Barty has done a great job of impersonating Alastor Moody.” Professor Snape said, “Now
go. You have your final exam in a few minutes.”
Hermione felt that it was terrible timing that he chose to give them this news right before the
History of Magic exam because as Hermione sat down to write about goblins and rebellions
she could only run through her mind all the spells Harry - and consequently her - had
mastered for the task.
She knew she had no problems with the Impediment or the Reductor curse, just as her shield
charm was particularly good compared to her friends. It had been odd when she tried for the
first time and managed an almost head-to-toe shield while the others had a measly shield
around their arms. It’s like you are a natural, Pansy had said.
Professor Snape was waiting for her when she left the History of Magic exam. She paled at
the sight of him, he only sighed.
“Again, Miss Granger, I’m not here because of your Potions’ score.”
“I'm sorry Professor if you could—”
“You will know the scores alongside the rest of your class when the letter arrives during the
summer.” He said firmly and she sighed. “If you could follow me. The Champions’ families
are in the castle and they required your presence.”
Hermione’s eyes widened in shock. “The Dursleys would never come.” She blurted before
she could refrain herself and Snape watched her reaction with a veiled curiosity.
“They couldn’t come, no,” he said. “Your brother is currently in the company of Mr and Mrs
Weasley and their eldest, his godfather and yours.” Professor Snape explained and she
smiled.
“Remus is here?” She asked happily, “I can double check with him my answers for the
defence exam then.” Hermione began rambling, and it took her a while to realise that not
only the sulky professor had let her, but he was watching her with an odd expression on his
face. She blushed, “I'm sorry.”
He didn’t say anything, just opened the door to the antechamber where they were waiting for
her. She was immediately engulfed in a hug from Remus and before she could turn and thank
the professor for bringing her, the man was gone.
Sirius hugged her too and dragged her away before she could begin bombarding Remus with
her questions. He merely smiled and mouthed ‘later’ to her.
Hermione was surprised by Mrs Weasley’s cold shoulder, as Hermione hadn’t properly met
the woman. Their encounters had been brief, once before the second year at Diagon Alley
and at the end of that same year when Ginny had been rescued from the Chamber of Secrets
and Hermione unpetrified.
Harry seemed to notice too and he turned to the Weasley’s matriarch with a sharp look. “Mrs
Weasley, you can’t possibly believe the things Skeeter has been writing.”
Molly Weasley blushed and was quick to make some excuses, but Hermione did hear the
muttered ‘we never know, with how inbred that family is’.
Remus managed to pull her away before she retorted and she let it slide because they were
there for Harry and yes, the Malfoys were a little inbred.
They talked a bit and went to the great hall for lunch and because everyone but her had been
a Gryffindor during their time, they went to sit there. Even though Hermione wanted to sit
with Remus and Sirius, she couldn’t picture herself at the Gryffindor table, it just felt wrong.
Hermione was excused from classes to accompany Harry, Hermione heard Pansy
complaining about Harry Potter and the Never-Ending Privilege. Together, they walked
around the castle. Harry didn’t seem that nervous for the upcoming task that was drawing
closer every minute.
“He's prepared,” Remus said to her, they were walking a bit behind the group, as Hermione
had absolutely nothing to say to Mrs Weasley and she didn’t seem willing to let go of Harry’s
arm. Sirius had the other one and she could hear all the stories about their time at Hogwarts.
Both Mr and Mrs Weasley were ten years older than Sirius and Remus, so their time at
Hogwarts didn’t match, which meant twice the stories since Sirius didn’t seem to have a limit
on the amount of stories he had.
“I know,” she said, “but I worry and I just have this weird feeling, you know?”
He nodded. “I do too.” He said and sighed, “one of the many special skills that Werewolves
have is that we have a very good sense of smell. There’s something in the air, it feels tense.”
He told her, “you are right to worry.”
Hermione smiled a bit, it felt good hearing an adult agree with her worries, instead of trying
to dismiss them with a ‘everything is going to be fine. “Professor Snape told us to be cautious
today. He told me to not leave my friends no matter what Barty says.”
“He's right.” Remus said with a small smile, “We are going to be there of course. Sirius and I,
Arthur too and some others. Not only as spectators but to keep watch.” He pulled her closer,
tucking her to his side, “I will keep my eyes on you all the time.”
“Thanks.”
They returned to the castle for the evening feast and Remus and Sirius walked her to the
Slytherin table. Sirius had his nose curled and a dismissive expression, but he did open a
smile for Theo, Blaise and Draco, whom he greeted with his usual, “hello, little cousin.”
Remus clapped both Theo and Blaise on the shoulder and she watched as he gave an
envelope to Theo. He lowered his face between the boys and said in a low voice “Thank you
for helping Harry,”
“Henry has some special privileges, I wouldn’t miss being allowed to practice and cast curses
that we have yet to learn.”
Sirius snorted, “It's Harry.” He added.
Pansy grinned and there wasn’t a single trace of honesty in that smile. “Are you serious? I
didn’t know.”
“Good one.” He said with a chuckle, “but I’ve heard that one every day since Walburga
decided to give me that particular star.”
Pansy shrugged and added “At least is not Wolf Wolfy McWolfie” thankfully, she had the
decency of saying it very low.
Sirius barked a laugh and Hermione chuckled at how similar to his actual bark it sounded.
Remus didn’t seem to mind, he too seemed to have found it funny. “Oh my, if the Slytherins
on my time were anywhere this funny I wouldn’t have spent so much time making rainy
clouds follow them,” Sirius said.
Professor Snape had just arrived and he didn’t waste a second before glaring and coldly
adding, “Black, the families are supposed to sit with the Champions.”
“We are going,” Remus said. Sirius had closed off immediately with the Potions Master's
presence. Hermione truly believed that it was impossible for Sirius to address Professor
Snape without being rude or offensive. “Just wanted to say hi to the boys.” And looking at
Theo, “You can write me in the next few days your answer.”
Hermione watched the pair return to the Gryffindor table and just as they sat, Cornelius
Fudge and Ludo Bagman joined the staff table. Of course, it wasn’t a normal dinner, they had
many more courses and options than usual and Hermione grumbled between bites. “They
want to show off and what to they do? Overwork the House-Elves!”
“I heard they brought in more to help in the kitchen,” Daphne said.
“It's worse!”
Hermione didn’t eat much, not in protest, but because she was getting nervous. And just in
time, Dumbledore rose to his feet and everyone grew silent at once. People even stopped
chewing. “Ladies and gentlemen, in five minutes’ time, I will be asking you to make your
way down to the Quidditch field for the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament.
Champion, please follow Mr Bagman down to the stadium now.”
The four champions got up and Hermione’s eyes only followed Harry's retreating back.
People were applauding and yelling good luck to the champions. As they left, the Weasley
twins made quick work on the merch that they had been working on the entire year. They had
the so-called ‘interns' from every house and the small first and second years students passed
around selling banners and badges.
Of course, Harry’s was the most expensive one. Hermione rolled her eyes.
The rest of the students followed their Head of Houses to the Quidditch field and even under
the moonlight, Hermione could see how completely unrecognisable the field was. A twenty-
foot-high hedge ran all the way around the edge of it. There was only one gap in the hedge
and it gave Hermione chills.
“Fucking hell, it’s huge,” Blaise muttered.
Hermione agreed. As she climbed onto the stands with her friends she could see the top of the
hedge and all of its twists, turns, dead-ends and - another chill - creatures inside.
The champions were on the floor and the hedges were too tall for them to be able to see
beyond the dark and creepy passage. They found their seats on the very top of the stands and
Hermione saw both Remus and Professor Snape checking where she was.
Hermione felt ridiculous with them checking on her when Harry was about to enter the maze
and face everything that was inside. Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, Hagrid and
Moody were all gathered with the Champions and from up there, she couldn’t hear what they
were saying, but all of them had large, red luminous stars on their hats. She saw them
dispersing and standing guard around the maze. Fucking Barty Jr was going to patrol the
maze.
And because she knew Aurors were supposed to be there undercover as well, Hermione tried
to look for them. Hermione didn’t know any Aurors, so she had no idea what to look for. But
she did spot Professor Snape glaring at Barty's back from where he stood next to Madam
Pomfrey at the edge of the maze.
Ludo Bagman pointed his wand at his throat, muttered, “Sonorus,” and his magically
magnified voice echoed into the stands. “Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the
Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you how the points currently stand!
Tied in the first place, with eighty-five points each — Mr Cedric Diggory and Mr Harry
Potter, both of Hogwarts School!” The students cheered for them. “In second place, with
eighty points — Mr Viktor Krum, of Durmstrang Institute!” Hermione cheered too to Draco’s
annoyance. “And in third place — Miss Fleur Delacour, of Beauxbatons Academy!”
“On my whistle, Harry and Cedric are going to enter the maze together.” Bagman announced,
“Three — two — one —” They entered together and Hermione wished him good luck under
her breath. Above them, two magical screens lightened and Hermione gasped.
“We had those for the second task as well.” Theo told her, “each for each Champion.”
“That's brilliant.” She said and watched as a third screen and a fourth one appeared after
Viktor and Fleur.
The screens were good because otherwise, they wouldn’t be able to see much. The hedges
were too tall and they had a kind of fog around them that made it hard to follow the
Champions. Hermione still had to find the Cup.
It felt like watching a movie, the crowd was silent watching the screens and it was only ten
minutes in when they all showed the cup, brilliant and with a twirling blue flame, in the
middle of it. The crowd hissed and gasped as each creature appeared before the champions.
Everyone had fought something but Harry remained with his path clear in front of him. Each
turn he took opened into an unblocked way to the other side. She could see it unnerved him,
and Hermione herself was unnerved, especially when Cedric was fighting Hagrid’s Blast-
Ended Skrewts for the past fifteen minutes two hedges away from Harry.
“It's like the maze is helping him,” Theo murmured into her ear, making sure that no one
heard him. She nodded and forced her eyes away from the screens to find the teachers.
Professor Snape was still by the edge of the maze, next to Madam Pomfrey, both in charge of
necessary medical attention. Dumbledore was up in the stands with the rest of the judges, as
always, she couldn’t read his expression, but the constant glint of something in his blue eyes
was there. Sirius and Remus were somewhere around the maze, just like the professors in
charge of patrolling.
When the screens zoomed out together they saw that Harry was the closest to the cup and
Hermione wished the whole thing would just end already.
Cedric had finally fought off Hagrid’s creatures and he stumbled on Harry. They couldn’t
hear what was happening from the screens, but it looked like the Hogwarts champions
exchanged brief words before going their different ways and then, finally, Harry got his first
obstacle.
It was a Dementor, or most likely a Boggart, and Theo made a sound next to her that made
clear that the whole thing was almost purposely too easy for Harry. They all watched as
Harry cast the Patronus charm and the silver stag erupted from the end of his wand, galloping
toward the dementor, which fell back and tripped over the hem of its robes. It wasn’t a
Dementor, but a boggart and right after another noise of annoyance from Theo, Harry cast
Riddikulus against it. Hermione hoped that wherever Remus was, he was watching as the
boggart exploded in a wisp of smoke. “Well,” Theo murmured again, “Luck or not, he’s
good.”
Hermione nodded and with a shiver, she hoped that Harry’s seemingly endless supply of
good luck was indeed endless. After the boggart, Harry turned into dead ends after dead ends,
only managing to twist around when his four-point spell showed him that he was too much to
the left.
Theo leaned in again, “I just watched Krum walk five minutes straight in the opposite
direction of the cup, right almost to the edge of the maze without a single dead end.” He
whispered, “the maze is changing for Harry.”
“I don’t know if I should be worried or relieved.” She replied.

“It's changing for the others too, and it looks like it’s arbitrary, but—” he trailed off.
Hermione knew what he meant. With Harry, they could never know.
Harry had turned back then and after turning right, an odd golden mist appeared floating
ahead of him. He used the Reducto curse and Pansy scoffed loudly from Hermione’s other
side. “It's non-solid you great dumbass!” She called and the sentiment was echoed around her
group.
“Not very bright our Boy-Who-Lived,” Blaise agreed. And as predicted from the very
supportive commentary, the spell shot straight through the mist, leaving it intact.
While Harry stood facing the mist, something was happening on Fleur’s screen, she was
running and from their view, they couldn’t see what was following her, but she looked
terrified. The Beauxbatons champion didn’t seem to mind that she was hitting the hedges and
cutting her arms and face, she was determined to escape whatever was following her.
And then they saw, for Viktor’s screen was showing him running after her, his wand held and
firing spells at her back.
“Can the champions attack one another?” Hermione asked, Cedric had barely looked at Harry
when they crossed paths.
“I think so. Maybe just something not too extreme?” Blaise replied. Hermione glanced at the
judge’s table, they were all watching intensely. Despite Madam Maxime's obvious
apprehension, she didn’t seem too concerned that whatever was happening was illegal.
And then Viktor’s spell got her. Fleur yelled and fell to the floor. Hermione didn’t know
exactly the spell used but the sight of Fleur twitching and crying on the floor was chilling.
Harry on his screen stopped and looked around, they were all close. He seemed to be calling
for her and Viktor on his screen raised his head to the sound. Fleur was still contorting herself
on the floor, her body stiff. She looked at Professor Snape’s face, he looked furious. His eyes
slightly widened. Hermione nudged Theo and pointed to the judge’s table, Professor Snape
was whispering furiously to the Headmaster.
No one else was paying attention to the judge’s table, for Harry had just run through the
enchanted mist. The crowd gasped as the world turned upside down for him. Harry was
suddenly hanging from the ground, with his hair on end, his glasses dangling off his nose,
threatening to fall into the bottomless sky.
“This is insane,” Theo murmured. He was watching the professors, “Snape is going in.” He
murmured and Hermione quickly glanced down before returning her gaze to her brother on
the screen. He looked terrified, as though his feet were glued to the grass. Below him, the
dark, star-spangled heavens stretched endlessly. Just like her, Harry didn’t seem to know
whether he would fall or not if he tried to remove his foot from the grass.
“Ah yes,” Pansy grumbled, “close your eyes that’s clearly the best tactic.”
“What would you do?” Hermione retorted and took the moment to look at Fleur’s and
Viktor’s screens. Snape had reached her easily, he clearly had something that led him straight
to her. Viktor was gone.
“Cast those red sparks and get the fuck off of that maze,” Pansy replied at once.
Back on Harry, he had pulled his right foot hard away from the grassy ceiling and they all
watched as the world spun back into place. Harry fell forward onto his knees, took a breath,
then got up again and hurried forward, looking back over his shoulder as he ran away from
the golden mist.
He paused at a junction of two paths and looked around, before deciding on the right fork.
Again, dread began crippling her, Fleur was out of the maze and the professors were
furiously whispering among themselves.
“Hermione,” Theo said, his voice very, very low. “I think Viktor cast an Unforgivable on
Fleur.”
“What?” She turned, “that's impossible, it’s a one-way ticket to Azkaban and—” but she was
looking at the girl and Hermione remembered the spider, the way its legs bent and twitched
horribly. “Why would he do something like that?” She whispered.
Draco, who had been very quiet since the beginning of the task, said “Fear eats at a man and
it feeds our worst instincts.” Hermione reached for his hand. She hated when he sounded like
he was quoting his father because Hermione knew that nothing good ever came from Lucius’
pieces of advice.
Fleur had been taken away, and Madam Maxime and the rest of the Delacours all followed
Madam Pomfrey back to the castle. One champion down. Hermione resumed her focus on
Harry, who met nothing for ten minutes but kept running into dead ends. Now more than
ever, Hermione watched for a pattern in the maze, but from above its changes looked like a
line of dominoes that every few minutes, the fog would act as a hand tumbling down all the
hedges and rearranging them.
Hermione watched as Harry rounded another corner and found himself facing a Blast-Ended
Skrewt. Harry cast and the spell rebounded on the beast’s armour, Hermione gasped as harry
ducked just in time, the Skrewt had propelled a blast of fire from its end and again. Harry cast
again and once more it ricocheted off, he fell on his backside with the force of it and the
creature began advancing on him. Oh no, oh no, oh no. Harry crawled back and when the
creature was inches from him, he cast again, this time the Skrewt froze, it seemed that he had
managed to hit it on its fleshy, shell-less underside.
He scrambled to his feet and ran, Harry wasn’t going to walk around anymore. He took a left
and was met with a dead end, without stopping he went right - another dead end - he only
stopped running to cast the Four-Point spell that had him backtracking and moving again up
north towards the cup.
Hermione was impressed with his stamina because he was running for a few minutes now.
Viktor's and Cedric’s screens showed the same thing, the pair was duelling. “Why is he not
shielding?” Daphne asked. Because on the screen, Cedric was only dodging Viktor’s spells
and trying, quite desperate to get him back.
Theo was shaking his head again, “I don’t think whatever Krum is casting can be held off by
a shield.”
Hermione knew what spells were stronger than any shield.
And just like Fleur, the spell hit and Cedric fell to the floor, screaming. They heard the
screams from where they were and Hermione flinched. Cedric was thrashing violently on the
floor, his body contorted in pain. Amos Diggory was screaming himself hoarse alongside his
son, demanding to stop it. Everybody was whispering. Harry was burning holes on the
hedges to get to Cedric, kicking the thick branches and brambles. Hermione finally learned
which wizards were the Aurors because they had just started running towards the maze.
“Fucking Gryffindor,” Pansy muttered just as Harry got to them. Harry pulled himself up and
pointed his wand at Krum just as Krum looked up.
Instead of cursing, Viktor turned and began to run, “What the—” Blaise began, but cut out
when Harry’s spell hit Viktor on the back. He fell forward, face first on the grass.
Cedric was panting and Harry kneeled down next to him. They were talking and they
watched it mutely. Harry helped Cedric to his feet and some people cheered.
A bit dizzy, Cedric walked towards the fallen Durmstrang champion and cast red sparks
above him. “Fucking Hufflepuff,” Pansy said this time, “if he had cast a Cruciatus curse on
me I’d be sending one right back and then leaving him to be eaten by that Blasted Skrewt.”
Harry, still holding Cedric up, walked up the path and when they reached the fork, each one
turned in one direction. The Aurors had gotten to Viktor and he was being removed from the
maze. Hermione watched him being carried out with the entire student body booing at him.
Every step Harry took put him closer to the cup, more often than not the screens would pan
out and they could see how close both champions were to it. Hermione was biting her nails.
Both Harry and Cedric were close but from opposite directions.
Another turn placed Harry right in front of a Sphinx, an over-large lion with clawed paws and
a long yellowish tail, with the head of a woman. Cedric's path was clear in front of him. The
cup was behind it, Hermione knew it was the quickest way, but only if Harry got the riddle
right.
Dumbledore waved his wand and suddenly they had sound. They heard the Sphinx say, “You
are very near your goal. The quickest way is past me.”
Everyone gasped. It was one thing to watch the Champions proceeding and getting muffled
sounds from the maze, it was something else completely having proper sound. Harry was
clearly exhausted, his chest was heaving and his voice was ragged when he replied, “So . . .
so will you move, please?”
Hermione couldn’t help but snort. One of her favourite things about her brother was his mirth
and cheek.
“No,” she said, continuing to pace. “Not unless you can answer my riddle. Answer on your
first guess — I let you pass. Answer wrongly — I attack. Remain silent — I will let you walk
away from me unscathed.”
“Just turn around then.” Blaise chuckled.
“Harry's not dumb!” Hermione retorted, “he’s more than capable of answering the riddle!”
“Really?” Draco raised an eyebrow, “who answered Professor Snape’s potion riddle on
second year, Hermione? I remember you saying—”
“That was different!”
“Yeah, right.” He snorted.
Harry replied to the Sphinx. “Okay,” he said. “Can I hear the riddle?”
They all watched in bathed breath as the sphinx sat down upon her hind legs, in the very
middle of the path, and recited, “First think of the person who lives in disguise, Who deals in
secrets and tells naught but lies. Next, tell me what’s always the last thing to mend, The
middle of middle and end of the end? And finally, give me the sound often heard during the
search for a hard-to-find word. Now string them together, and answer me this, Which
creature would you be unwilling to kiss?”
Harry’s expression was mimicked on everyone’s faces. Pansy chuckled, “he's fucked.”
“Could I have it again . . . more slowly?” Harry tentatively. And Hermione focused, paying
attention to the entire thing as the creature repeated the poem.
“All the clues add up to a creature I wouldn’t want to kiss?” He asked. The creature didn’t
bother with a reply. “A person in disguise,” Harry muttered, staring at her, “who lies . . . er . .
. that’d be a — an imposter. No, that’s not my guess! A — a spy? I’ll come back to that . . .
could you give me the next clue again, please?”
Some people were laughing and Hermione was shaking her head, trying to work out the
meaning of it herself. “‘The last thing to mend,’” Harry repeated. “Er . . . no idea . . . ‘middle
of middle’ . . . could I have the last bit again?” She gave him the last four lines.
“The first part is a spy,” Hermione said, thinking hard and then with a scoff, “the last thing to
mend is the letter d. Fucking Sphinxes!”
“‘The sound often heard during the search for a hard-to-find word,’ ” Harry repeated. “Er . . .
that’d be . . . er . . . hang on — ‘er’! Er’s a sound!” Hermione grinned and everyone laughed.
It seemed that no one cared about Cedric fighting vicious branches.
“Merlin,” Theo shook his head, “that’s a very Harry Potter kind of answer.”
“Anyone with better rhetorical skills would have failed.” Draco snorted.
“It's a Spider,” Hermione said, getting the answer moments before her brother.
“Spy . . . er . . . spy . . . er . . .” Harry said, pacing up and down. “A creature I wouldn’t want
to kiss . . . a spider!”
The sphinx smiled more broadly. She got up, stretched her front legs, and then moved aside
for him to pass. Everyone cheered and Hermione felt a great weight leaving her chest. Harry
thanked the Sphinx and dashed forward.
“I can’t believe that he’s going to actually win this thing,” Draco said in utter disbelief.
Theo snorted. “Potter sees adversity and says ‘how can I kick this with dumb luck and sheer
cheek?’”
It didn’t matter, Harry broke into a run. He went to the right side after casting yet again the
Four Pointer spell and then skidded to a halt at the sight of the Triwizard Cup gleaming on a
plinth a hundred yards away.
They had been paying attention to Harry and missed Cedric successfully fighting off the
vines. Suddenly both screens merged into one as the remaining Champions were together on
the same path. Cedric was a few steps in front of Harry. Cedric was going to get there first.
“Oh, fucking hell!” Pansy groaned, “just when I decided to root for Potter!” She announced.
Hermione shook her head lightly, she was quite aware that Pansy had been rooting for Harry
for quite some time now.
Both boys were running towards the cup, but Cedric was ahead and much taller, with much
longer legs.
The hedge parallel to Harry began shaking and they saw from the maze a huge creature
coming barreling into them. “What on earth—”
Dumbledore had cut off the sound, but Hermione saw her brother calling out to Cedric just in
time to avoid being hit by the thing.
He tripped and his wand flew out. Hermione gaped at the creature who had just come into
view. A gigantic spider. Hagrid’s Acromantula.
Harry cast, but it seemed to not even scratch it. But it got its attention and the creature moved
away from Cedric and began running at Harry instead and the boy begin casting spell after
spell. The only thing they seemed to be doing was annoying the spider.
Hermione gasped as the creature grabbed Harry and lifted him into the air. He kicked and
only got pinched by it.
“Dumbass, dumbass, dumbass,” Pansy was murmuring next to her. Hermione was gripping
Theo’s and Draco’s hands viciously.
Cedric was on the floor trying to help, casting spells that didn’t work until he cast one that
did. The spider dropped him and Hermione screamed as he fell twelve feet onto the ground.
Blaise winced, “he fell on his injured leg,” he said, “there's no way it isn’t broken.”
Still on the floor, he cast another spell at the spider, and at the same time, Cedric cast too. It
worked, for the spider keeled over.
Cedric kneeled down next to Harry and the pair stared at Harry’s bleeding leg. Harry could
only look at the Cup behind Cedric, gleaming and calling.
They were talking, both pointing to the cup and shaking their heads. “I can’t believe,” Theo
said, “this is the biggest horror I have seen tonight.” He shook his head, “A Hufflepuff and a
Gryffindor arguing who’s going to take the Cup.”
“That's what you get when you select a Hufflepuff as a champion,” Draco replied.
Hermione, who wanted the entire thing over and done with, just wished Harry would grab the
thing and come back. But it didn’t seem that was happening anytime soon as they kept
bickering. “Krum was willing to go to Azkaban for the thing and they are going to decide on
rock-paper-scissors.” Daphne laughed.
But clearly, they had gotten to a different decision, Cedric grabbed Harry’s arm below the
shoulder and helped Harry limp toward the place the cup stood. When they had reached it,
they both held a hand out over one of the cup’s gleaming handles.
Together, they grasped the handles and the crowd went euphoric. Instantly, they disappeared.
Every pair of eyes were at the edge of the maze, where they were supposed to return.
And then nothing happened.
Hermione’s entire body grew cold.
Dumbledore stood. His face was ashen.
Professor Snape’s eyes flashed in her direction, almost making sure that she was there.
The Aurors who had returned after dealing with Viktor had their wands ready.
“Something's wrong,” Hermione said.
People were murmuring, wondering if they had gone somewhere else to decide on the
winner.
But Hermione knew panic and it was clear on the adults’ faces that they were as confused as
the students.
Sirius returned, he was furiously arguing with Dumbledore. Remus was climbing the steps
towards her. At once Theo and Draco made a barrier in front of her, their wands ready.
“Come with me,” Remus said.
“No,” Draco said and Hermione turned confused. “She’s not going anywhere before we are
sure you are you.”
“What?” Pansy asked.
Remus looked proud, but he was agitated. It reminded her of the day he and Professor Snape
found her outside the Halloween Party. “Very well. Ask me something that only I would
know.”
“What did I tell you outside the house once we arrived there for Easter?” Hermione asked.
“That I’m enough now.” He replied, “you thanked me for reaching out.” Hermione nodded
and the boys let her go. Remus grabbed her arm and pulled her closer, worryingly possessive.
He turned to her friends. “Stay alert.”
He climbed down the stands with her close, Sirius was gone again. It was Professor Snape’s
turn to hiss at the Headmaster. “Where's Sirius?” He asked them.
“Running a lap around the maze.” Professor Snape replied and moved closer to her, “As a
dog.” Dumbledore gave a small nod at her and left.
Remus nodded and turned to look around. “Barty is there.” He whispered and Severus gave a
curt nod.
“He returned moments before the Acromantula appeared. He has been standing there at the
judge’s table since then.”
“Stay with Severus Hermione,” Remus said, “I will try to find Sirius.”
Hermione nodded. There was something on Professor Snape’s stand, it was equally protective
as it was suspicious. He kept his sharp black eyes on Dumbledore, Barty and Professor
McGonagall, who were now talking. “What's happening?” She asked.
“Something that wasn’t supposed to happen,” Snape replied.
Hermione was trembling. She felt her eyes filling with tears. Merlin, not again. How many
times would she have to wait for Harry, terrified that this would be the time he wouldn’t
come back alive?
Very slowly, a warm hand rested on her shoulder and squeezed. She looked up to see Snape
still looking ahead, but his hand remained on her shoulder.
Professor Snape hissed a muttered a string of words that Hermione couldn’t understand. She
looked up at him and saw his expression pinched and sweat dripping from his temples. He
looked like he was about to pass out.
“Professor—”
“I’m fine.” He gritted, but she felt his grip tightening on her shoulder. His breathing was also
laboured. Somewhere to their right, Hermione saw Igor Karkaroff doubling in pain. His face
had gotten ghostly and he pushed two people away in his haste to get away. He stumbled
twice before she lost sight of him.
Professor Snape’s left arm was giving small jerks that she knew he was trying to control.
Hermione knew what he hid under that sleeve. Whatever this was, had to do with Voldemort.
Her body felt cold and her head was a mantra of Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry.
And then, from what felt like hours later, they returned. Harry and Cedric slammed back on
the grass in front of them. Everyone cheered, their screams were deafening and Hermione
made to move in their direction but Professor Snape held her back. And then she saw. Harry
was sobbing, shaking and he had brought Cedric Diggory’s body with him.
He was clutching at Cedric’s body and at the cup with a vice grip and he had still to look up.
Dumbledore rushed to him, seizing him roughly to look at him. “Harry! Harry!.
There was so much blood. On his scar, dripping to his face, his shirt, and his entire left arm
looked like it was in blood. He opened his eyes to look at Dumbledore and they were stricken
with tears. “He's back,” Hermione heard him say. “Voldemort. He’s back."
Hermione gasped. Ignoring Professor Snape, she ran to him, skidding to her knees next to
him.
Harry flinched and pushed her away. Forcefully. “Harry—” Hermione whispered.
“Get away from me!” He yelled. Hermione felt paralysed. He had never looked or talked to
her like that.
“What’s going on? What’s happened?” Fudge said, coming next to them. “My God —
Diggory! Dumbledore — he’s dead!”
But he said it too loud and the words were now being repeated and passing to the stands.
Somewhere she heard Amos Diggory scream.
Harry was still clutching Cedric’s body. "Harry, you can’t help him now. It’s over. Let go.”
Dumbledore spoke, his voice soft.
“He wanted me to bring him back,” Harry muttered, his voice seeming to be coming from far
away. “He wanted me to bring him back to his parents...”
“That’s okay, Harry, just let go now.” Dumbledore bent down, and with extraordinary
strength for a man so old and thin, raised Harry from the ground and set him on his feet.
Harry swayed. Hermione was scrambling to her feet after him. She tried to touch him again
and he whirled. “Don't touch me!” He hissed, his face furious. And then in crushing anger
spat, “You are not my sister.”
Hermione staggered and she hit something, she looked up and saw that Professor Snape was
there, his face hard. Dumbledore was watching Harry with confused eyes.
“Harry, that’s Hermione, what—”
“She's not my sister! She—” he looked up and found Snape behind Hermione. His gaze
became murderous “Snape is her father.”
Hermione felt the world spinning. Dumbledore was silently looking between the three of
them. For once the man looked surprised. She didn’t dare to look behind her at Snape. She
couldn’t move.
They didn’t have time for that particular information, because the chaos was hitting them.
Fudge was nervously saying that they had to take Cedric’s body away from everyone, there
were more and more people screaming and a few had begun running away.
Dumbledore turned to Snape and coldly said, “Find Sirius and Remus and return here.”
She felt him leaving but Hermione didn’t turn to look. Dumbledore looked at her and his eyes
weren’t kind anymore. “Don't go anywhere, Miss Granger.” He told her and turned to Fudge.
Hermione wasn’t sure that she could move even if she wanted.
How? And what did that mean? Not my sister.
It didn’t make sense. She had seen the pictures, she had the memories, how—And Professor
Snape? Where did he fit in all of this? How did Harry get this information? From Voldemort?
Harry was mostly irresponsive, his eyes were glazed and no one had made a movement to
check on him or stop his bleeding. Hermione was too wary to try to approach him a third
time.
“Dumbledore, Amos Diggory’s running,” Fudge said panicked. "He’s coming over. Don’t
you think you should tell him — before he sees — ?”
Dumbledore nodded and turned to Harry, “Harry, stay here—”
But Amos Diggory had arrived and Hermione watched with tear-filled eyes as the father
threw himself into his son’s body, Dumbledore holding him. The man screamed Cedric’s
name over and over again.
“Call Professor Sprout,” Dumbledore said, Hermione didn’t know whom he was speaking to.
She looked at Harry and he was looking at her, but there was nothing, absolutely nothing that
she recognised from his expression.
She looked away, her tears finally streaming down her face. Madam Pomfrey and Professor
Sprout arrived, in their rush to get to them, jostled Hermione aside. She watched the two
women struggle to pull Amos Diggory away from his son.
“I'm so sorry Amos, I’m so sorry,” Professor Sprout was saying, “we should take him to the
Hospital Wing, let’s get him somewhere better—”
“My boy, my son, my boy is dead—” he cried.
Hermione looked around, the ones who hadn’t left were trying to get closer to the centre,
vultures trying to get a glimpse of the two boys. She looked at Harry and found that the boy
was missing.
“Harry,” she called, looking around her. He wasn't there. He had been right there.
“Headmaster,” Hermione called, her voice shaky. “Harry is gone.”
Dumbledore looked up and instead of looking at where Harry was supposed to be, he turned
to where Barty had been talking with him and Professor McGonagall. Neither was there
anymore.
He knew, Merlin he knew that something had gone very wrong the moment Harry Potter
started to magically evade all the obstacles. But no, Dumbledore called it luck. And then
Fleur Delacour fell to the Cruciatus Curse. He’d recognise the effects of one from miles.
They should have stopped the whole thing then but Dumbledore needed to be sure. Barty was
nowhere to be seen and Dumbledore kept Snape rooted in place next to him. Patrolling with
Flitwick my ass, he thought. It took Cedric’s scream to reach them from the middle of the
maze for Albus to send the Aurors after the Bulgarian.
But Potter and Diggory had disappeared. They were supposed to be brought back to the
entrance of the maze. Severus had looked at Remus once and the wolf was already on his
way to Hermione, bringing her to him. Black was yelling something extremely rude to the
headmaster that for once, Severus believed that they were on the same page regarding Albus
Dumbledore. He watched Black go off as a dog, no doubt looking for his godson. And then
Hermione was there, confused and scared, but there. Safe.
And then it came. The vicious, toe-curling pain of the Call. It had been fourteen years since
the last time he had felt it and Merlin, he wished he had forgotten how it felt. It took him
every strength in his body to keep him there, ignoring it. He saw Karkaroff bolting and he felt
his own body cold with the pain. Hermione noticed and hoped he wasn’t squeezing her too
much.
Voldemort was back.
Hermione wasn’t safe at all.
It was thirty minutes of excruciating pain until Potter returned, hitting the ground with a thud
and Cedric Diggory’s very much dead body.
Severus wanted to puke. Lily’s and James Potter’s bodies came to mind. James in the living
room, cold, dead. Lily, fallen in front of the crib, cold. Dead.
Hermione ran to her brother and if it wasn’t enough, his entire world slipped from his fingers
just like she had done just moments before. "Don't touch me! You are not my sister,” spat in a
fury that he had never seen in the boy.
He knew. Potter knew.
Severus felt as rooted to the floor as Hermione seemed to be. She staggered and hit his chest
and it was enough for Potter to deal the last blow. “She's not my sister! She—” he found
Severus’ eyes and looked up and found Snape behind Hermione. His gaze became murderous
“Snape is her father.”
Albus Dumbledore seemed to have grown next to him and his only words were to tell
Severus to fetch Black and Lupin. He left. He had to think. He had to know whatever the hell
Voldemort had told the boy. He had to find Remus before he found Black. He had to kill
Barty Jr.
He had been carrying the last one in his pocket for days. He had known that Barty Jr had
information with the potential to be catastrophic so he brewed a solution. A very illegal fix.
His modified version of Veritasserum looked, smelled and tasted the same as the original, but
allowed the brewer to control the answers before they escaped the drinker’s lips and it slowly
poised the drinker. The addition had been specially catered to Barty Jr.
Dumbledore wasn’t aware of it and Severus hoped that he would continue to be none the
wiser.
Harry was the wild card. He didn’t know what Voldemort had told the boy, but Severus knew
the Dark Lord would have thrown it at the boy’s face viciously.
Severus had reached the back goals when he saw Remus walking in his direction.
“Harry?” He asked, desperate.
“He knows,” Severus said, the words tumbling from him. Black was trotting a little behind,
“Harry knows about me. He told Hermione and Dumbledore.”
“Fuck.” Remus replied and ran his fingers through his hair. He looked behind him, Sirius had
just turned back.
“Harry?”
“He's back. He returned with Cedric.” Severus replied and without waiting for anything else,
turned into a dog again and left.
Remus’ eyes were wide and the yellow of the wolf blinked at him. “This is the worst possible
outcome,” Remus stated the obvious.
“Voldemort is back. Mr Diggory is dead.”
“Fucking hell.”
They began their walk back side by side. “Dumbledore is angry.” He said, “His face was
clear.”
“Fuck Dumbledore.” Remus snapped. “He should have stopped the tournament the moment
Viktor Krum cast the unforgivable on Fleur Delacour. The boy’s death is on him.”
Severus hummed. He quite agreed with the wolf.
They were almost reaching the entrance when one of the castle's elves popped in front of
Severus. “Headmaster wants to see Professor Snape, sir,” the elf said.
Severus sighed. “And where is the headmaster?” He asked, for there was no sight of any of
them in the clearing.
“On false Moody’s classroom sir. The headmaster is waiting for you to start questioning false
Moody, sir.”
“I'm on my way.” He said and the elf popped away.
At the same time that the elf left, Narcissa’s silvery peacock appeared. “That sounds
promising,” Remus commented.
“He told the boy Lily begged the Dark Lord to spare Hermione because she was the blood of
one of his followers.” Narcissa’s voice told them, it was rushed and quiet. “The Dark Lord
didn’t say that you knew it all along.”
“Fuck" Severus swore as the peacock disappeared.
Remus grabbed his arm, stopping him. “That’s good Severus.” He said, looking at both sides
to make sure they still were alone. “You can run with that. He’s angry because he probably
thinks you kept it from him.”
Severus scowled, “I'm not worried about Dumbledore. This means that Voldemort wants
something. He could have said the truth, but he didn’t. I’m paying for that.” And on a quick
note added, “You have to hold Black back. We can’t hope to salvage the situation with either
Hermione or Harry if he takes part in the discussion today.” Remus winced, but nodded.
Not wanting to waste another second, he left Remus and rushed to the classroom. The chaos
had spread around. Most of the students had left the Quidditch field, but that meant they were
all loitering around the main entrance, which was already filled with reporters. He turned into
his animagus form and flew, the last thing he needed was to be stopped by reporters and
students.
He transformed back outside the office, he could hear Barty’s mad laugh from the outside.
Severus stepped in and Barty grinned at him with a mad grin. “Severus!” He greeted. Severus
quickly accessed the room. Harry was next to Minerva, sitting on a chair to spare his broken
leg, Hermione was almost hidden in a corner, her eyes widened. She looked away when he
caught her eye. Winky, the Crouch family's old house elf was also present. “Did you miss me,
old friend?”
“I celebrated your death,” Severus replied and fixed the door that Dumbledore probably had
blasted open. He also locked and placed a few silent wards, just in case Sirius Black came
rushing and made things a bit more difficult. “I shall do it again.”
Barty grinned even wider. He didn’t seem to mind that he was stripped to a chair.
McGonagall seemed as furious as Dumbledore, but she knew that her fury was towards
Potter’s situation, while Dumbledore’s was scattered. “I believe I told you to bring Remus
and Sirius,” he told him and the headmaster’s face was clear of benign smiles or twinkles in
the eyes behind the spectacles. He was simple, pure cold fury in every line of the ancient
face.
“They will be here shortly.” He replied and hoped that Remus was good enough with
distractions. He noticed the trunk beside Harry and looked inside, the real Alastor Moody
was inside, he was apparently unconscious and looked very thin. “Is he alive?”
“He’s weak, but no imminent danger,” Dumbledore replied, he had yet to remove his eyes
from Barty. “Do you have a truth serum, Professor Snape?”
He nodded and made a show of Accioing one to his hand, it wouldn't look good if he simply
removed one from his pocket. “May I?” He asked the headmaster.
“Yes, I think it’s time we get some truths,” Dumbledore replied. He winced and saw that
Hermione did the same, while Harry scowled.
Severus approached Barty, “I was excited for this part the most.” The man said and Severus
grabbed his cheek forcefully, opening the man’s mouth and pouring the liquid down his
throat.
Dumbledore pulled a chair for himself and sat down in front of Barty. “I would like you to
tell us,” Dumbledore said softly, Severus knew the old man was his most dangerous like that.
“How you came to be here. How did you escape from Azkaban?”
Barty took a deep shuddering breath and Severus saw the memories organising themselves on
the man’s head and allowed them to come out. He told them about his mother, filling all the
details that they couldn’t fill by themselves, how Mr Crouch staged his mother’s death and
Winky nursed him back to health, how they hid him all these years - subdued, under the
imperius curse and constantly under an invisibility cloak, constantly accompanied by the
house-elf -, how Bertha Jorkins found out the true with an announced visit and Mr Crouch
put a powerful Memory Charm on her and it ended up being too powerful. He talked about
the Quidditch cup, how Winky had convinced his father to let him attend - Barty had been a
beater while at school - how he’d stayed in the box the entire day and the way he was getting
strength and resisting the imperius curse, how he stole Harry’s wand and returned to the tent
before hearing the death eaters.
Barty spat then, and went off on how he despised every single one of those who had escaped
Azkaban. That part was delivered looking straight at Severus and Severus looked right back.
His words of loyalty, revenge and eagerness to return to his Dark Lord meant nothing to him.
Barty confessed to casting the Dark Mark and getting hit by one of the stunning spells the
ministry cast, breaking the bond between him and the elf.
Severus let him speak everything without editions, after all, the time between the World Cup
and the attack on Alastor Moody was still foggy for them. Barty told how his father found
him and took him home but then Voldemort came for him. Voldemort, a bundle of robes and
skeletal bones on the arms of Peter Pettigrew. How they had crossed paths with Bertha in
Albania and came for him, she had told them everything after torture. Despite the flat tone
caused by the potion, it was clear to everyone’s ears how reverent he was when he spoke of
his master. How Voldemort believed him to be his most faithful servant, how Voldemort
needed him. They had put Mr Crouch under the Imperius Charm then, forcing him to
continue working normally.
“And what did Lord Voldemort ask you to do?” Dumbledore asked.
He smiled and told his plans for grandiosity, how his biggest ambition was coming true: the
chance of serving him again. Severus felt revolted. He had been this wide eyed, power-
hungry once. He just wished the glamour had faded earlier, that he hadn’t made some
unrepairable mistakes. “I needed to place a faithful servant at Hogwarts. A servant who
would guide Harry Potter through the Triwizard Tournament without appearing to do so. A
servant who would watch over Harry Potter. Ensure he reached the Triwizard Cup. Turn the
cup into a Portkey, which would take the first person to touch it to my master. But first —”
“You needed Alastor Moody,” Dumbledore concluded.
The struggle had been as they imagined, Wormtail was involved, they subdued Alastor just in
time and forced him inside his own magical trunk. Arthur Weasley got there minutes after
Barty’s transformation. Barty told them how he kept Alastor alive under the Imperius Curse
and got everything he needed from the Auror. He told about Mr Crouch’s imprisonment and
how they had to keep him from leaving the house when he began to fight the Curse and
finally, to when Narcissa’s visit had panicked Wormtail and allowed Crouch to escape.
Wormtail’s warning had been quick, faster than Narcissa’s.
“I almost failed then,” he said his voice carrying shame. “I wanted the map. But Potter
wouldn’t give it to me, he said he didn’t have it, that his bastard sister had it.” Hermione
made a distressed sound from her corner and Barty turned to her. “She had been suspicious of
me since the beginning.” And then, because he wasn’t satisfied with everything he had done
that night, he turned to Harry, “James Potter was smart but he wasn’t one to apply his
intelligent to the right things. Her oversized brain should have been suspicious enough.” He
said and Potter glared at him,
“Shut up about my dad.” He hissed.
Severus could have held that comment, but Barty wasn’t one to hold his tongue, Severus had
to maintain appearances as they were still in safe waters regarding Hermione’s paternity.
“What map is this?” Dumbledore asked.
“Potter’s map of Hogwarts. Potter saw me on it. Potter saw me stealing more ingredients for
the Polyjuice Potion from Snape’s office one night. He thought I was my father. We have the
same first name. I made him believe my father was after Snape. I wanted it, if I had it I would
have been able to see my father arriving at once.”
“How did you find him then?” Dumbledore asked.
Barty turned to the Foe Glass. “I saw him there, on the grounds with Potter and Krum. It
alerted me when he began spilling our secrets. I rushed after him, I couldn’t hurt Potter; my
master needed him so I stunned Krum when Potter ran to get you. And then I killed my
father.”
Winky was wailing then.
“You killed your father,” Dumbledore said, in the same soft voice. Severus wanted to shake
the old man. “What did you do with the body?”
“Carried it into the forest. Covered it with the Invisibility Cloak. I waited around the forest
for Potter to return and then doubled around behind them, to meet them. I told Dumbledore
Snape had told me where to come. You told me to go and look for my father, I took the time
to transfigure his body. He became a bone and I buried it in front of Hagrid’s hut. Maybe fang
is using it to clean his teeth.”
Winky was sobbing. Dumbledore had stopped with his questions, Severus knew his secrets
were running out of time.
“How did you fix the cup?”
“I turned in into a Portkey when I was inspecting it with the half-goblin. I suggested he go to
check up with the Sphinx and when I was alone I did it. My master’s plan worked. He has
returned and I will be honoured beyond the dreams of every wizard.”
“You are not leaving this chair today,” Severus hissed and Dumbledore lifted a hand to stop
him.
“Tell me about Miss Granger.” Dumbledore said, Severus prepared himself.
“My master wanted her out of the way.” He said. I thought it would be funny to have her die
under Severus’ hand without him ever being able to claim her. “I thought it would be funny
to have her die under Severus’s hand without him knowing she was his.” Came the edited
version and Barty smirked. Barty looked at him, a sick amusement in his expression.
Dumbledore looked at Severus, he was searching and Severus felt the tell tales of the
Headmaster’s legilimency. He glared at the headmaster. He forced the words out of his
mouth, not caring how they scratched his throat like sand and cut his guts like a sharpened
knife, “I never knew.”
Barty cackled and thankfully the potion kept him from speaking unprompted, because the
amusement running his thoughts and the provocative you still are a formidable liar Severus
was going to remain inside the man’s head.
“Did Voldemort tell you this?”
Barty was grinning, pleased to be the bringer of gossip and adultery. “Yes.” He told me how
Severus cried and begged on his feet for our master to spare his mudblood spawn and the
mother. “He told me how Lily cried and begged our master to spare the girl.” He said instead
and for once in his life, Severus Snape thanked Lucius Malfoy.
He knew Narcissa’s patronus had been from Lucius’ retelling of the events. It had been
fundamental information. He could keep with Voldemort’s fictitious narrative from the Maze.
Barty was still cackling, having fun with Severus twisting his truths.
Dumbledore wasn’t satisfied, clearly intent on dragging the truth in front of all the concerned
parties in the worst way possible. “What else did Voldemort tell you about Hermione’s
birth?”
Severus kept it from you. My master believes that Severus’ refusal to claim the girl is because
he’s still on our side. I think he’s a liar and a traitor like everyone else and has crawled under
your feet to protect the girl.
“Lily kept it from him because she knew Severus was one of us. I think he’s a liar and a
traitor like everyone else and has crawled under your feet to protect himself.” He said
between chuckles. Thankfully, madness was a common side effect of being a Death Eater and
no one was thinking too much of it.
It was tricky. The veritasserum was still strong, he had to be careful with how much he
modified Barty’s words, he couldn’t allow them to stray too far from the truth otherwise
Barty would be able to feed lies himself.
Barty began coughing up and he resumed his grinning when he looked at Severus. Barty had
also been very good in potions when he was young, Severus knew he was aware of what was
happening with him, from the modified Veritasserum to the slow poison taking action. He
sagged on the chair, as much as the ropes around him allowed, and let his head roll to the
side.
Dumbledore stood up and turned to Minerva. “Could I ask you to take Barty Jr to one of the
towers? Fudge will have some questions. On your way back, send for Madam Pomfrey, I
need her to check Alastor and take him to the Hospital Wing. I have some more questions to
Harry.”
Minerva hesitated, “Headmaster, could those possibly wait till morning? Harry still has a
broken leg and has gone through a lot tonight. He needs to be checked.”
“Madam Pomfrey can do that when she comes.” He replied and despite the smile, they all
knew his tone was final. She left with an unconscious Barty Jr., disillusioned and still
strapped to his chair.
Dumbledore forced the elf to vow to not make any attempts on freeing Barty and the sobbing
elf followed Minerva.
He motioned Hermione to come closer and the girl rounded the desk with shaky legs.
Dumbledore looked between the three of them. Severus didn’t need to be a Legillimens to
know what the Headmaster was thinking. Somehow, they were a family.
“A lot has happened tonight. Some terrible things that will indefinitely follow us forever,
truths uncovered in the worst way possible.”
Potter was still angry, “My mother was a liar.” He spat and his green eyes flashed.
Severus felt his own anger shimmering.

“Your mother died to save your life, Harry.”
“And she begged Voldemort to save hers.” He retorted, pointing a bloodied finger at
Hermione. His daughter had never been quieter, not even during the entire ordeal at the
Shrieking Shack she had lost her voice.
“We are all very tired tonight.” Dumbledore said gently, “Harry, I must ask you to kindly give
me a copy of your memories of tonight’s events in the cemetery. I fear sleep may wash away
some important details.”
Harry nodded. “I don’t know how to do it.”
“If you would allow me.” The headmaster said and walked up to Harry, pressing the tip of his
wand lightly on the boy’s temple. Severus new that a wizard needed to be thinking about
whatever memory he wanted to extract for it to be successful. Dumbledore’s lack of further
information meant that he was going to use Legilimency to get everything he wanted. They
watched the silvery thread leave and Dumbledore stored it into a vial he conjured. “Thank
you, Harry.” The boy nodded. “I will walk you to the Hospital Wing, Minerva would have me
alive if I didn’t accompany you there.” He turned to Severus then, and seemed to remember
that he was not leaving merely a Head of House and his student. He was leaving father and
daughter. He looked at Hermione, eyes kind, “I can leave you at your common room if you
are not comfortable.”
“I'm still her Head of House.” Severus replied, his voice clipped.
“But both of you have been made aware of some very complicated truth. Miss—Hermione is
allowed to wish for some time alone.”
Hermione gulped and very slowly, turned to look at him. Her expression was unreadable. “It's
okay Headmaster”
Dumbledore nodded once and helped Harry to his feet. The boy didn’t look or speak to
Hermione as he left. She flinched as if slapped.
The pair of them stared at one another in silence, they listened to the distancing steps of the
headmaster and her brother.
Severus knew he had one chance and one chance only. Voldemort was back and wanted his
daughter out of the way. He had kept the truth from Dumbledore, but—
“You knew.” She said. Taking away from him the small part that was terrified of telling her
the truth, of confessing.
“Could we have this conversation on my office? It’s safer there.”
“Tell me.” She said, her entire body shook but her voice remained firm, level. “You did know,
didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
Hermione took a deep, shaky breath. “To your office then,”
He nodded and they walked silently side by side to the dungeons. The castle was empty by
then, the only witness to their silent stroll were the portraits who had yet to sleep.
Severus didn’t know what she would ask, if she would ask him everything. Knowing her, it
was most likely that she’d want nothing less than the entire truth and all its details. Where
would he begin? How could he begin?
Her steps were firm and she kept her eyes looking ahead of her, Severus knew she’d take this
with her head raised high, what he didn’t know was if she’d take him. Severus wasn’t one to
wish for things, he believed that wishes and dreams were for hopeful dreamers and naive
fools, he had never wished for a future with her as her father, he knew better. The universe
was cruel and people like Severus had no place on the wishing well.
He opened the door of his office for her, Hermione didn’t bother with a chair or waited for
him to sit. “I only have one question.” Hermione said, surprising him. “Who knew?”
“Remus, Narcissa and Lucius.” He said and he recognised the hurt on her expression. The
way her shoulders dropped and her face fell, but it quickly became pinched. She gave a curt
nod and turned to leave. “Hermione,”
“No.” She whirled. He could see, how hard she was trying to refrain from crying. He
remembered the day, almost one year ago now, exactly in this place, as a sick, twisted joke.
She had so many questions then, she had wanted all of them. “We had this conversation
before.” She whispered, as if she was the one who could read minds. Severus knew she didn’t
trust her voice to be any louder. “I sat right here and you lied to me. You let me be fooled.
You twisted your words like you did Barty’s tonight. I don’t want any of them.”
This time when she turned, he let her go.
Severus went to his quarters and locked his door and Floo. He picked a bottle of scotch and
the single glass that remained intact. He drank.
By then, Sirius Black would have learned the truth, was he screaming at Lupin? Or was he
blaming Hermione like Harry had done?
Dumbledore knew. He had been angry, when Harry yelled the truth to them. Why? Because
he thought Severus had known? Or was it something else?
Voldemort could have said more. Why didn’t he? What painful welcome would Severus need
to survive to learn?
Barty was probably dead already, he hoped that Fudge hadn’t been quick enough to question
him. At least Barty was gone.
You lied to me. You let me be fooled He knew he had. He had betrayed mother and daughter.
Lily was dead, there was no chance for forgiveness there. Would he find forgiveness from his
daughter? Hermione wasn’t like her brother, she didn’t forgive and forget. She had cut Draco
off on her second year and it was only when the boy finally stepped out of his father’s
shadows that she fully forgave him.
He stayed there, nursing his drink and cursing himself that his first act as a father was to be a
disappointment.
One of the portraits that usually kept an eye on his common room appeared. “Draco Malfoy
and Theodore Nott have kicked Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle of the dormitory for the
night.” The wizard on the painting announced.
He sighed, he wouldn’t leave his quarters to deal with them. “Why is that?”
“I don’t know. But Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass and Hermione Granger have moved
there instead.”
She was going to tell them. Or she had told them already. Merlin, by morning he’d be on the
receiving end of the glares of the most loyal pack of Slytherin fifteen year olds.
“I will deal with it in the morning.”
He put the bottle and the glass on the table and retreated to his bedroom. As he lay his head
on his pillow and stared at the ceiling he remembered Herodotus and how he once said: the
most hateful grief of all human griefs is this, to have knowledge of the truth but not power
over the events
Chapter End Notes
There it is! The long awaited, desperately asked for, truth.
We have one more chapter in Year Four and then we start on the Order of the Phoenix
timeline. this is where we will separate ourselves from canon. I hope you stick around.
I plan to have the next chapter ready and posted by September 12th.
you entered the world through the back door
Chapter Notes
Hello! Finally we have update on Friday like the original plans!

Thank you all for the comments, I really appreciate it! I saw some people really angry at
Harry's reaction and let's all remember that he's a fifteen year old boy who's currently
under a lot of trauma (and Severus Snape is high up on his list of least favourite people).
Be patient with him.
This is the last chapter of fourth year and it was a very long ride (16 chapters in total). I
hope it didn't get boring waiting for the revelation.
TW: Torture and mentions of torture and blood. It starts with Severus' part. Read at your
own discretion
Excerpts were taken from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. They don't belong to me.
Fall asleep peacefully, wake up without fear

How many hours of solitude
You had to pay for it
To come home again
And to sit in a quiet room
Chapter Forty
Hermione woke up unable to move her own body. Her cheeks felt damp and her eyes seemed
perpetually stuck closed. Once sleep finally cleared away, she remembered where she was
and the events of the previous night came rushing back. The damp cheeks made more sense
now as the tears silently streamed down again. She still couldn’t move, but it was due to the
pair of arms around her waist and how pressed up against her back Draco was. Hermione
could feel his soft breathing at the top of her head. He was perfectly tucked behind her. But
Hermione’s head wasn’t on a pillow, instead, she had Theo’s chest under her head and while
Draco hugged her, she was hugging Theo’s middle and had one leg thrown over his. Like
mirror images, Blaise was facing her. Their foreheads touched where they met on top of Theo
and Blaise’s hand was holding her wrist. His leg was also thrown on top of Theo’s. Hermione
doubted that Theo could move at all.
She looked up to find blue eyes looking down on her, “morning,” he mouthed and she smiled.
Hermione also saw that while Draco’s and Blaise’s mattresses were vertically next to one
another, Pansy and Daphne had put Theo's horizontally above them, the two girls were a
mess of limbs still fast sleep. Hermione felt her heart full. She loved this group of people so
much and was so thankful for all of them.
Hermione had returned to her common room to find most of the Slytherins still there, all
waiting anxiously. No one had known exactly what had happened. They saw Cedric Diggory
dead, Harry Potter announcing that Voldemort was back and then they were all shepherd back
to their common rooms.
At least they hadn’t heard the other revelation. But they were full of questions and the boys
ushered Hermione to the dormitory and they followed behind, yelling ‘is it true? Is the Dark
Lord back?’.
Blaise was the one to face the crowd after Hermione finished telling her friends what she
knew. He didn’t say anything about Hermione’s newfound paternity - again - or Moody not
being Moody. He had been quick, a curt ‘he's back. Eleven death eaters returned to him.’
“Sorry,” she mouthed back and he shook his head. He didn’t seem to mind being used as
pillow.
Hermione shifted a bit anyway, pulling back from Theo. The movement made Draco murmur
in his sleep and tug her to him. The movement woke Blaise and he sat up slowly, blinking
and running his fingers through his hair. Hermione watched and Theo was watching too. It
wasn’t fair, she thought, how unreal he looked. No swollen face or no messy hair, sleep
wasn’t enough to make Blaise Zabini anything less than breathtaking.
“Fucking hell, this is not possible.” Pansy groaned and Hermione saw that everyone was
awake now. Pansy - her hair had fallen out of her bun and black strands were framing her
face - was glaring at Blaise like he had personally offended her.
Draco snorted and he was the slowest to move, he sat up too and still sleepy and lazy, tucked
his chin on Hermione’s shoulder, not bothering with her nest of hair that was most likely
about to suffocate him. “It is unfair.” Draco agreed.
Theo, now free of bodies on top of him, sat cross-legged in the middle of them. He leaned in
to peck Blaise on the lips, a smirk on his own, like he was well-aware how handsome Blaise
was and proud that he was the one to wake up to that most of mornings.
Daphne reached for Hermione, holding her hand, “How are you feeling?” She asked.
Hermione shrugged. “Still as confused as yesterday.” She replied. “I want to know what
happened at the graveyard, but I don’t know if Harry’s going to be willing to talk to me, he
—”
“He will.” She said, squeezing Hermione’s hand. “He was hurt yesterday. He had seen
Diggory be murdered, the Dark Lord return and discovered that his mother had cheated on
his father with a man he disliked. It’s understandable.”
“I hate how we understand Potter now.” Draco mumbled and Blaise snorted.
“Don't worry Granger, he slept it over. It’s going to be fine.” Blaise said.
It wasn’t fine.
She went to the hospital wing before breakfast and there was met by glares from the
Weasleys and growls from Padfoot. Harry was still sleeping.
“He doesn’t want you here.” Ron Weasley said.
Hermione winced. “I don’t care. I want to know how he is.” Neither Bill Weasley or Mrs
Weasley said anything, but they too didn’t seem much happy with her presence. They all
knew by now. Harry had probably told Sirius and Ron before going to bed. Soon, the whole
castle would know.
She hated that all of them were already privy to an information that she hadn’t all the answers
to yet.
They heard voices behind the door of the Hospital wing. They were getting louder by the
second. She recognised the angry tones of Professor McGonagall and the minister. While
they were busy hissing at the doors, Hermione watched her brother - half-brother? - wake up.
He stirred and blinked. Hermione guessed that the only reason he didn’t glare at her upon
waking up was because he didn’t have his glasses. The doors burst open and Harry sat up,
Hermione sighed and handed him his glasses. He plucked them from her hand without a
word.
Padfoot was growling even more now and Hermione knew why. Next to Professor
McGonagall, trailing behind Minister Fudge, was Severus Snape.
“Where’s Dumbledore?” Fudge demanded of Mrs. Weasley.
Mrs. Weasley had barely replied when the door opened again and Dumbledore came
sweeping. None of the adults or her brother had acknowledged her.
“What has happened?” Dumbledore asked sharply, looking from Fudge to Professor
McGonagall. He still looked angry. “Why are you disturbing these people? Minerva, I’m
surprised at you— I asked you to stand guard over Barty Crouch—”
“There is no need to stand guard over him anymore, Dumbledore!” she shrieked. “The
Minister has seen to that!” She was trembling with fury as she told the headmaster about
keeping Barty Jr. alive all night just for the minister to arrive with a Dementor that performed
the kiss the moment it saw Barty.
They had no more witness, as Dementor-kissed wizards couldn’t exactly to anything. Barty Jr
was as good as dead. But that wasn’t the thing that worried Hermione the most no, it was
how the minister refused to believe that Voldemort had returned, how he sputtered and
scoffed and dismissed Dumbledore’s, Professor McGonagall’s and Professor Snape’s
testimonies of Barty’s Veritasserum - most definitely spiked - addled confession.
Fudge laughed awkwardly, no doubt questioning everyone’s sanity. “You are — er —

prepared to take Harry’s word on this, are you, Dumbledore?”
Padfoot growled again and bared his teeth at the minister. At least he hadn’t done that to her.
“Certainly, I believe Harry,” Dumbledore replied. “I heard Crouch’s confession, and I heard
Harry’s account of what happened after he touched the Triwizard Cup; the two stories make
sense, they explain everything that has happened since Bertha Jorkins disappeared last
summer.”
Hermione recognised Fudge's expression, was the same one Mrs Weasley had when she saw
Hermione before the task. The look of someone who had spent the year reading every word
written by Rita Skeeter. “You are prepared to believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, on
the word of a lunatic murderer, and a boy who… Well…”
“You’ve been reading Rita Skeeter, Mr. Fudge,” Harry said quietly. He too had recognised
that look. After all, he was the one to defend her yesterday.
“And if I have?” he asked, and turned to Dumbledore. “If I have discovered that you’ve been
keeping certain facts about the boy very quiet? A Parselmouth, eh? And having funny turns
all over the place—”
Hermione scowled. “I assume that you are referring to the pains Harry has been experiencing
in his scar?” Dumbledore asked, his voice cool.
“You admit that he has been having these pains, then? Headaches? Nightmares? Possibly —
hallucinations?”
“Listen to me, Cornelius,” Dumbledore said, his voice had a glacial fury to it, but his face
showed nothing. “Harry is as sane as you or I. That scar upon his forehead has not addled his
brains. I believe it hurts him when Lord Voldemort is close by, or feeling particularly
murderous.”
“You’ll forgive me, Dumbledore, but I’ve never heard of a curse scar acting as an alarm bell
before—”
“Look, I saw Voldemort come back!” Harry shouted and was held back by Mrs Weasley
when he tried to get up. “I saw the Death Eaters! I can give you their names! Lucius Malfoy
—”
Hermione and Professor Snape had matching winces. Their eyes met and they looked away.
The truth between them was like an elephant. Enormous, awkward and dangerous.
Harry kept shouting death eater’s names and Hermione heard half of the parents of her
housemates be called. Malfoy. Nott. Crabbe. Goyle. She knew she’d hate tell Draco and Theo
about their dads.
“You could have found those names in old reports of the trials!” Fudge was denying. “For
heaven’s sake, Dumbledore — the boy was full of some crackpot story at the end of last year
too — his tales are getting taller, and you’re still swallowing them — the boy can talk to
snakes, Dumbledore, and you still think he’s trustworthy?”
“You fool!” Professor McGonagall cried. Because she would defend her student. “Cedric
Diggory! Mr. Crouch! These deaths were not the random work of a lunatic!”
“And this?” Fudge blustered, pointing at Hermione. The adults looked at her. Padfoot
growled. The moment of silence was cutting before he added, “This lunacy about him being
the girl’s father! Are you going to believe that too?”
“Why on Earth would I invent something like that!” Harry snarled, but Fudge was still going.
“I see no evidence to the contrary!” shouted Fudge, raising his voice to drown Harry’s. “It
seems to me that you are all determined to start a panic that will destabilise everything we
have worked for these last thirteen years!”
And then Professor Snape moved. Hermione held her breath. Professor Snape strode forward,
past Dumbledore, pulling up the left sleeve of his robes as he went. He stuck out his forearm
and showed it to Fudge, who recoiled.
He was showing them his Dark Mark. Hermione had known, for months. Harry did too. But
Ron Weasley didn’t know. She was angry with him, a rage inside of her that was foreign to
her, but even then, she hated that he was showing his Mark to these people.
They don’t know him, she thought. They won’t see past the Dark Mark.
“There,” said Snape harshly. “There. The Dark Mark. It is not as clear as it was last night,
when it burned black, but you can still see it. Every Death Eater had the sign burned into him
by the Dark Lord. It was a means of distinguishing one another, and his means of summoning
us to him. When he touched the Mark of any Death Eater, we were to Disapparate, and
Apparate, instantly, at his side. This Mark has been growing clearer all year. Karkaroff’s too.
Why do you think Karkaroff fled last night? We both felt the Mark burn. We both knew he
had returned. Karkaroff fears the Dark Lord’s vengeance. He betrayed too many of his fellow
Death Eaters to be sure of a welcome back into the fold.”
He said everything in a single breath, his tone never raising, but his anger was tangible.
“Voldemort has returned,” Dumbledore repeated. “If you accept that fact straightaway,
Fudge, and take the necessary measures, we may still be able to save the situation.” He said
and then Hermione learned the missing piece of that man that Dumbledore was. "The first
and most essential step is to remove Azkaban from the control of the dementors —”
“Preposterous!” shouted Fudge again. “Remove the dementors? I’d be kicked out of office
for suggesting it! Half of us only feel safe in our beds at night because we know the
dementors are standing guard at Azkaban!”
Dumbledore kept on, “They will not remain loyal to you, Fudge! Voldemort can offer them
much more scope for their powers and their pleasures than you can! With the dementors
behind him, and his old supporters returned to him, you will be hard-pressed to stop him
regaining the sort of power he had thirteen years ago!” He was a general. There, in front of
them wasn’t a benevolent headmaster, who made passwords out of sweets, smiled at his
students and knew everyone by name. This was a general who had been waiting and
preparing for this war for the past fourteen years. “The second step you must take — and at
once,” Dumbledore pressed on, “is to send envoys to the giants.”
“Envoys to the giants?” Fudge shrieked, finding his tongue again. “What madness is this?”
“Extend them the hand of friendship, now, before it is too late,” said Dumbledore, “or
Voldemort will persuade them, as he did before, that he alone among wizards will give them
their rights and their freedom!”
“You — you cannot be serious!” Fudge gasped, shaking his head and retreating further from
Dumbledore. He moved closer to Professor Snape with that and he jumped when he realised.
He moved away. “If the magical community got wind that I had approached the giants —
people hate them, Dumbledore — end of my career —”
“You are blinded,” said Dumbledore, his voice rising now. He had so much power, power that
he hid behind his long beard and half-moon spectacles. Hermione wondered how people
could trust him, how could they look at him and not see a man that hid everything that he was
behind aloofness and quirkiness, “by the love of the office you hold, Cornelius! You place too
much importance on the so-called purity of blood! You fail to recognise that it matters not
what someone is born, but what they grow to be! Barty Jr was as pureblood as they come and
your dementor destroyed him all the same. See what that man chose to make of his life! I tell
you now — take the steps I have suggested, and you will be remembered, in office or out, as
one of the bravest and greatest Ministers of Magic we have ever known. Fail to act — and
history will remember you as the man who stepped aside and allowed Voldemort a second
chance to destroy the world we have tried to rebuild!”
Fudge didn’t seem to have listened to a word Dumbledore had said. He shook his head,
rocked on his feet like a kid and still flinching at the Dark Mark on Professor Snape’s arm,
whispered. “I don’t know what you and your staff are playing at, Dumbledore, but I have
heard enough. I have no more to add. I will be in touch with you tomorrow, Dumbledore, to
discuss the running of this school. I must return to the Ministry.”
He turned to leave and had almost reached the door when he paused. He turned around,
strode back down and stopped at Harry’s bed where he dropped a bag of gold out of his
pocket on Harry’s bedside table. It seemed ridiculous, absurd like everything in the
Wizarding World seemed to be, that they would still care about that after a student was
murdered and Voldemort had returned. “Your winnings,” he said shortly, and walked out of
the room, slamming the door behind him.
The moment he had disappeared, Dumbledore turned to look at the group around Harry’s
bed. The look on Dumbledore’s face was clear. “There is work to be done,” he began. “Molly
am I right in thinking that I can count on you and Arthur?”
“Of course you can,” Mrs. Weasley said at once. She looked resolute. A soldier, not a
smothering mother. She added, “We know what Fudge is. It’s Arthur’s fondness for Muggles
that has held him back at the Ministry all these years. Fudge thinks he lacks proper wizarding
pride.” Worse, Dumbledore's soldier.
“Then I need to send a message to Arthur,” Dumbledore continued. “All those that we can
persuade of the truth must be notified immediately, and he is well placed to contact those at
the Ministry who are not as shortsighted as Cornelius.”
“I’ll go to Dad,” Bill Weasley said, standing up. “I’ll go now.”
“Excellent. Tell him what has happened. Tell him I will be in direct contact with him shortly.
He will need to be discreet, however. If Fudge thinks I am interfering at the Ministry—”
“Leave it to me,” the boy said. And Hermione seemed to be the only one to realise that. Bill
Weasley was a boy. He had yet to turn twenty-five. Hermione watched as he clapped a hand
on Harry’s shoulder, kissed his mother on the cheek, pulled on his cloak, and strode quickly
from the room.
Twenty four. Lily and James had been twenty one when they died. They had been fighting
before they went into hiding. Did that mean they began fighting before they turned twenty?
“Minerva,” Dumbledore was saying, “I want to see Hagrid in my office as soon as possible.
Also — if she will consent to come — Madame Maxime.” Professor McGonagall nodded
and left without a word.
Sirius had been twenty-one when he was sent to Azkaban. He spent his twenties in prison.
Remus had been recruiting Werewolves for Dumbledore the night James and Lily died. They
were all kids.
He was sending them to war.
“Sirius Black!” Molly Weasley shrieked and Hermione blinked, coming back to herself.
Madam Pomfrey had left as well. Padfoot wasn’t Padfoot anymore. His glare was much more
potent in human form.
Where was Remus? Had he left? Did he leave her behind? Had Sirius and him fought?
“Mum, shut up!” Ron yelled. “It’s okay!”
At once, both Sirius and Professor Snape spoke: “What is he doing here?” They glared at one
another, seeming revolted that they had spoken the same thing at the same time. Sirius in dog
form had been a blessing that Hermione hadn’t appreciated enough.
Sirius moved to stand next to Harry, a firm hand on her brother’s shoulder. Whatever Harry
was feeling towards her, Sirius Black would be sharing the same feeling.
Hermione watched, with a lump on her throat. Her existence was a stench on James Potter’s
memory and the two people in the world who would never accept that were standing in front
of her.
Harry wasn’t going to sleep it over. Sirius much less.
Hermione shot a glance at Professor Snape. If it had been anyone else, she thought, anyone
else she’d have a chance.
Was this why Remus left? To escape Sirius’ fury? He had known after all, Professor Snape
told him last night. Had he left to avoid not being forgiven by Sirius?
“You are both here at my invitation,” Dumbledore said, looking between them warily, as if he
half expected them to pounce at one another. “I trust you both. Recent news might make it
difficult but it is time for you to lay aside your old differences and trust each other.”
“Trust?” Sirius asked, disbelief rolling of that small word as if it were a waterfall, “he—”
“I will settle, in the short term,” Dumbledore said, interrupting whatever Sirius was going to
say. There was a bite of impatience in his voice, “for a lack of open hostility. I hoped for a
shake of hands—” they shared a look of pure loathing, “but it might be too soon.” He added
upon looking between the two men. “You are on the same side. In more ways than one.” A
godfather and a father. “Time is short, and unless the few of us who know the truth—” He
looked at Hermione, “all of it as it goes, do not stand united, there is no hope for any of us.”
Hermione watched as Harry seemed to completely ignore that comment. His reaction was
worlds away from how he had reacted last year at the Shrieking Shack.
“I have work for each of you. Fudge’s attitude, though not unexpected, changes everything.
Sirius, where’s Remus? His sudden disappearance makes me believe he knows more than he
let on last year—” Sirius scowled, ugly and mean. “I need to talk to him. I need you to alert
Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher — the old crowd. Go now. I will contact you at Lupin's.”
“I'm not—”
“I will contact you at Lupin's.” Dumbledore repeated. It was an order.
Harry made a noise of disagreement, she knew he wanted him to stay. She understood, after
all, she wanted to punch Remus Lupin’s lying face but she wanted him close to her all the
same.
Because I don’t have all your answers. He had told her when she first went to his house
during the summer. Liar.
“You’ll see me very soon, Harry,” Sirius said, turning to Harry. “I promise you. But I must do
what I can, you understand, don’t you?”
“Yeah… of course I do.”
Sirius grasped his hand briefly, nodded to Dumbledore, transformed again into the black dog,
and ran the length of the room to the door, whose handle he turned with a paw. Then he was
gone. He hadn’t spared a single glance at Hermione.
“Severus,” Dumbledore spoke again, turning to Snape, but not before a quick glance at
Hermione’s direction. “You know what I must ask you to do.” No, Hermione thought. “We
need to know if your position is still safe, if this—” her “changes things. If he thinks you are
now compromised, then there’s no—”
“I will tell him that it changes nothing.” Snape replied, cutting Dumbledore off. Then what?
Hermione wanted to ask. What would happen with Snape if he couldn’t go back to
Voldemort? But Dumbledore was nodding and even though Snape looked slightly paler than
usual and his cold, black eyes glittered strangely, his voice had been steady, certain.
Her eyes filled with tears. How could it change nothing? She wondered. He was her father.
He had known since the beginning. How could he go to Voldemort, swear loyalty to the man
who had killed Lily Potter, mother of his child, and wanted to kill Harry, brother of his child.
Hermione’s vision was blurry. A conversation she had with Harry after the second task in this
same bed. 'Why doesn’t Remus trust the Order?’ He had asked.
Sirius was Remus’ reason.
'And the Malfoys? What’s their reason?’ Their family’s safety.
’And Snape?’
She knew now. Lily was the reason he had turned spy. And Hermione was the reason he
didn’t trust the Order. For the first time since Harry’s return from the graveyard, he was
looking at her.
He was thinking the same thing. Which could mean that he didn’t believe that Severus hadn’t
known about Hermione.
“Then good luck,” said Dumbledore, and they watched without a word spoken between them,
as Snape left too.
It was several minutes before Dumbledore spoke again. And it was to her. “Hermione,” he
said and she quickly dried her tears before they could find a way past her eyes. She put her
Occlumency shields in place, the ones that Professor Snape had dedicated hours to teach her.
“I know you must be confused and have a million questions. We all are.” He told her. “I will
find them for you.” He promised her. She remained quiet. Hermione didn’t want anyone
getting answers for her. She knew exactly where to get them and she was going to.
Professor Snape. Remus Lupin. Narcissa Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy.
“But Hermione,” he said and his voice was different now. Dumbledore was trying to keep his
curiosity in check, like Hermione had suddenly become this most exciting puzzle, this figure
in his calculations that had come unexpectedly and messed up his line of thinking, “I’m
afraid that I must tell you that you are in a very dangerous position.” He told her. “What I
asked of your—of professor Snape, what he promised me is—”
“I understand.” She said. “May I be excused?” She asked instead. If Snape was about to go
kiss Voldemort’s feet and tell him that Hermione being his changed nothing, she was going to
get another answer before he went. Dumbledore nodded. Hermione looked at Harry, but he
was looking down and she sighed.
It wasn’t going to be fine.
Hermione ran from the Hospital wing, because she knew the Potion’s master moved fast and
most likely was gone already. But she needed to be sure. And a part of her, a desperate, I
can’t believe I’m clutching at our flimsy relationship already, part of her hoped that he’d
know to wait for her, he’d know that she’d come after him.
His office’s door was closed, but that had never stopped her. Without knocking, she pushed
the door open and caught the tail end of Remus sentence “—make Mary the scapegoat.”
He hadn’t left her. Remus looked at her. Guilty in a way she’d never seen him. Professor
Snape didn’t berate her for entering without knocking, they were in shaky waters as it was.
“Hermione,” Remus said, taking a step closer to her. He hadn’t left her.
The door behind her closed again and this time she heard a lock and felt the familiar silencing
charm fall around them.
“I have two questions.” She told Professor Snape. He nodded. Remus looked between them
confusedly. “Since when have you known?”
Remus was the first one to reply. “A few weeks after you were born.” He said and it knocked
all the air from Hermione’s chest. She placed a hand at the back of one of the chairs, just in
case. “Remember when I told you they always wanted a girl and a boy and James had vowed
to give the boy to Sirius, so Lily said I’d have the girl?” Hermione nodded. He told them that
at the Shack. “She had known then, when they came up with that talk, that you weren’t
James’. James wanted it to be Sirius and Sirius was set into having the first born, but Lily
knew him. She knew he would never accept that betrayal and I—I was her friend first.” He
said with a sad smile. “Before I became a Marauder, before the four of us became
inseparable, I was her friend. She was my first friend. The first person I told about my
Lycanthropy. Lily was terribly smart. She knew you were a girl and she knew you weren’t
James and she made it that she could give you to me without upsetting Sirius and James. I
was made godfather and then three weeks later she told me the truth.”
Lily had been right. Because Sirius wasn’t talking or looking at her and Remus was currently
hiding in Severus Snape’s office from not only the headmaster but also from his boyfriend.
Hermione turned to Professor Snape.
He opened the last drawer on his desk, retrieved a very old envelope and gave it to her. It was
tattered and she was careful as she opened it, her hands shook.
She is yours.
If something happens to us, I want you to hide her.
Name her Hermione, for she will have my last libation before I sleep and be the messenger of
dreamers.
Her name. Lily had given her the name. It wasn’t one that her muggle parents had chosen, it
wasn’t because they liked The Winter’s tale. That was false too. It had been Lily’s parting
wish to her.
And Mary? Was this the same Mary Remus had just offered to make a scapegoat? She
wouldn’t ask. Hermione had said two questions and she’d stick to those. She knew they
would answer if she did, that they wouldn’t care. But Hermione cared. Hermione was going
to control the information from now on. She’d learn what she wanted when she wanted.
“The letter arrived with a photo.” Professor Snape said, "It’s in my house now, but it’s you as
a baby. It arrived in January of 1980. It was the only time I heard from Lily after—” he
stopped and if Hermione wasn’t so overwhelmed, she’d find amusement at her stoic Potions
Professor and Head of house - and father, her mind supplied - apparent embarrassment in
telling her about the making process behind Hermione’s existence.
God. She didn’t want to think about that. That particularity about birth was a tad too much.
Her brain short-circuited a bit when she stopped to consider that her Potions Professor had
slept with Harry’s mom and together made her. If this was the reason why Harry was so
angry and unable to look at her, she could understand. Partially.
Time for the second question. “Were you behind my disappearance?” She asked.
The pair nodded. And Remus, because he seemed desperate for Hermione’s forgiveness - he
had lied, added, “we worked with Narcissa. Lucius didn’t know, he—”
“Okay.” She said. That wasn’t her question. Remus was still confused, he looked at Snape in
question, but the man said nothing. He knew what she was doing. After all, he was a
Slytherin like her. “I need to tell my parents. I’m done lying to them as I’m done being lied
to.” She turned to Remus, “you told me I wasn’t going to be alone, you told me that when
time came, you would be there with me to explain to them. Were you lying then too?”
He winced. There were many skills one developed in Slytherin, the ability to deliver cutting
sentences in emotionless tones was one of them. “No,” he said, hurt and cowered, like a
wounded wolf. She was the wounded one! “I wasn’t. I will tell them with you.”
“Good.” She said. “I will write to you then.” Hermione turned to leave. Remus called her
name.
“No,” Professor Snape said quietly, softly. “It's her turn now.”
When she finally, finally, went to the Great Hall, people were leaving already, everyone
carrying that air of mourning around them. Hermione waited in the corner for her friends.
Draco came next to her, for once he didn’t care what the other Slytherins had to say, he
intertwined their fingers and pulled her with him; Blaise, Theo, Pansy and Daphne followed.
She knew where he was taking them and Hermione was glad.
They began climbing the steps towards the Astronomy Tower in silence and then she saw it.
The thing she had been looking for constantly in the past few weeks, but had completely
escaped her mind with the approaching third task.
The beetle.
It had landed on Daphne’s scarf, almost hidden away between her ponytail and her hood.
Hermione was for once glad that she had taken to carrying the jar in her bag. Hermione was
certain that Skeeter had been at the Hospital wing that morning - probably hiding in her hair -
listening to everything, to Dumbledore’s plans and orders. Hermione’s paternity. She
wouldn’t allow any of that to reach the Daily Prophet or Weekly Witchy.
Hermione kept an eye on the beetle the entire time. Draco opened the secret the door and
instead of going in, Hermione stopped. “Theo, could you stay behind a moment? I need to
tell you something.” She said, making her voice all mysterious and a bit gloomy. The others
looked at her with furrowed brows, but didn’t question.
That was the gift of Slytherin.
Theo nodded and Hermione watched with veiled satisfaction as the beetle flew and landed
right next to Hermione where she leaned against the safety railing. She pretended to not see
it. “What is it?” He asked.
Hermione sniffed in good measure. “Snape gave me this,” she said and opened her bag,
grabbing the jar and opening it before completely removing it from her bag. “I wanted to
show you and A-HA!” She exclaimed happily.
Theo had jumped with the sudden movement. He watched as she captured the beetle with the
jar. The insect flew desperately, knocking against the glass. That was a lot of strength for a
beetle.
“What on earth, Hermione?”
“I finally figured out how Skeeter kept writing all of those articles. How she got all her
details.”
“Do you mean—”
“Yes. A non-registered Animagus.” She said as she carefully pushed the jar to the edge and
manoeuvred the lid, closing the jar with Rita Skeeter inside.
He chuckled. “You are brilliant.” He told her, “absolutely brilliant.”
“I know you love me Theodore,” she said with a smile and put the jar inside the bag.
“No lies there.” He replied.
“Don't tell them.” She said.
“Why not?” Theo asked and his tone was honestly confused. Hermione wasn’t one to keep
secrets from them. But she also didn’t want to give them the opportunity to think that she was
a bad person. Merlin knew she was usurping all of their thoughts with her newest drama.
“You are the only one who knows exactly how Slytherin I can be.” She said.
Theo looked at her, the same way he used to do before they became friends, when he was still
studying and learning her. It was exactly because he had studied, that he knew what she was
talking about. And correctly guessed, “She won’t be writing again so soon, will she?”
“No.”
“I hope she likes worms.” Theo said and threw his arm around her shoulders. “You belong in
green like no one else Hermione.”
Severus stared at his reflexion and how his image would ripple every few seconds, at every
drop of blood falling from his nose or mouth. The pool of blood on the stone floor was
crimson and his reflexion was pure pain. Voldemort was speaking somewhere around his
head, but Severus hadn’t been allowed to raise his to confirm that information. Nagini was
circling him, eager to have a meal.
His body trembled as he tried to keep the minimum of self respect as one could get after
being forced on all fours. Severus hadn’t missed this at all.
Voldemort wasn’t pleased with him. Barty had been reporting to his lord for the entire year
and Voldemort found him lacking in many areas. He thought you soft with the girl Voldemort
had spat at his face, right after gifting him with the Cruciatus Curse. He said you’ve been
licking Dumbledore’s boots for too long.
“My Lord,” he said, his vocal cords raw. Voldemort had found that funny too, how Severus
had screamed. He didn’t use to before. Maybe you have softened all around. No, but he had
let himself forget how much it hurt. “My only wish all these years was to keep close to
Dumbledore so I could serve you upon your return.”
“Oh, Severus.” Voldemort said and Severus felt his master’s bare foot pressing against his
shoulder. He pushed. Severus fell to his side. “And you were really close, weren’t you?” He
hissed, his foot still on Severus’ shoulder, keeping him down. His hair was now wet from his
own blood.
“Yes My Lord,” Severus said, “Dumbledore trusts me more than he trusts his Order.”
Voldemort leaned down, his breath terrible, like death. He forced his body to not react to the
foul smell. “But should I trust you, Severus?”
“I serve only you My Lord.” He said, his voice copying that sultry tone that he knew
Voldemort liked to be addressed. He wanted all of his followers to be desperate for his
approval, and right now, Severus was really desperate.
He needed back in. And not because Dumbledore asked, but because he had Hermione’s
safety on the line. My master wanted her out of the way. He had Harry Potter, impossible boy,
who had yet again survived the Killing Curse, to keep alive as well.
“But there is the small matter of your daughter Severus.” Voldemort spoke. Severus was
prepared. From the moment he kneeled in front of this man to beg for mercy and every day
since, he had prepared for this day.
“She’s weak.” He said. “I thought Slytherin would teach her, would show her your strength,
but she cares too much for the boy.”
Voldemort hummed and finally, removed his foot from his shoulder. Severus knew better than
to get off the floor. “And you? Do you care for her?”
With every fibre of my body “She’s no longer my daughter.” He said instead, because this was
the story they agreed to tell. “Whoever took her, also took her blood. There’s nothing of mine
or—” a pause “the boy’s mother in her.”
Voldemort’s red eyes flashed with sick amusement. Long gone was the handsome,
captivating man that spoke to the darkest desires of young wizards and witches. “Barty didn’t
tell me that.”
“He didn’t know.” Severus said, “I've only learned it recently. Dumbledore only told me now
because he felt like I should know,” he made a face of distaste to prove his point. “In order to
hide her, her captors blood adopted her to the muggles.”
“Sit up, Severus.” Voldemort said abruptly and Severus was quick to obey. He kept his shins
to the floor, because he knew that was how Voldemort liked them. Kneeling, closer to the
floor than to his face. “My boy, you should have started with that.” He said, amused and
Severus watched, warily as Voldemort sat back on his chair. Severus wondered if it was the
same chair that Harry had seen in his dream.
If only Dumbledore had done something about the dreams, if only he had come investigate…
“If the girl doesn’t have the same blood as the boy, she doesn’t have the same protection as
he has…” Severus’ body grew cold. He tensed his muscles, avoiding the shiver that wanted
to break out. His mind was a vast field of nothingness. If he had just put his daughter directly
at the tip of Voldemort’s wand, he would leave here, bloodied and broken and kidnap her
once more. He’d take her to Brazil, hide her deep in the forest and under Nneka Zabini’s new
husband impenetrable fortress. “…she can’t save him this time.” He finished and Severus felt
his heart expanding inside his ribcage.
“I don’t understand, my Lord.”
“I'm a merciful Lord, Severus.” He replied and Severus nodded vigorously. Pathetically.
“That night in Godric’s Hollow I intended to follow your request,” Voldemort came forward
and ran a bony hand through Severus’ bloodied cheek. He swallowed the urge to puke. “But
Lily Potter didn't step aside and I had to make her.” A vast, empty field, the grass was dry and
nothing alive could survive there. “Little Miss—What is it that they call her now? Ah,
Hermione Granger. A horrible muggle name to a muggle girl. Oh yeah, she had her brother in
her arms and I was going to give her that, to have her brother die in her arms.” As if it would
be a gift. As if anyone would ever desire to have their sibling murdered while you hold them.
“But the spell rebounded—” he spat, “and I was thrown back,” he grabbed Severus’ by the
lapels of his robes and threw him back, quite the act. No Death Eater would survive if their
Lord decided to go into theatrics. “The last thing I saw that night Severus,” he spoke lowly,
Nagini was hissing and circling closer to him now, “was a golden barrier around the girl and
the boy. Now, the boy is mine to touch and the girl doesn’t have her shiny shield anymore,”
But she did.
Hermione’s protective stand towards the Malfoy boy was strong enough to create a barrier, a
shield if you may, Dumbledore’s voice echoed in his head.
“—I don’t need her out of the way to kill the boy.”
Barty knew this. He had been the one to tell Dumbledore about it. Severus feigned confusion
and with his heart beating rapidly like a scared rabbit, added “Dumbledore told me the girl
did something similar towards the Malfoy boy. Barty had seen it with Alastor Moody’s glass
eye.”
Voldemort smiled, his forked tongue going over his yellow teeth. He chuckled, “Oh Severus,
I had forgotten how refreshing your loyalty was.” He said and every hair on Severus’ body
stood and cold sweat ran through his spine. “As I told Barty, that was merely an enraged
teenage girl, you know how they can be.” He said. Severus doubted that Voldemort had any
knowledge whatsoever in teenage girls.
And that was his weakness. His refusal to see that others could be powerful, that teenage girls
could keep their protective shields towards the ones they loved even after a blood adoption.
Voldemort returned to his chair, Nagini now resting around his shoulders, her head on the
chair’s arm. Severus watched as he caressed the snake with a pale finger.
“Stand Severus, you’ve dirtied my floor for too long.”
“My apologies, My Lord.” He replied and got to his feet. His knees ached and he swayed a
bit, consequence of the Cruciatus from an hour ago.
“I need to know where Potter is going to spend his summer, Severus. And what Dumbledore
has to say about my return.” Severus nodded. One of the first things he told Voldemort was
how Fudge had refused to believe Harry and consequently, Voldemort’s return. “You may go.
I will wait for your return.”
“Thank you My Lord.” He said with a bow and turned to leave.
Nagini hissed at his back and Voldemort chuckled, “Nagini says that you may keep your
daughter after all.” Voldemort called and Severus barely held in his gasp, for the sudden,
sharp pain in his chest felt like a stabbing knife. “Since she’s of no importance to me
anymore.”
“And she’s of no importance to me.” He replied.

“Good.” Voldemort said. “Because I kept your secret from the boy. I spared her.” And there
it was. The reason he lied to the boy. All those years ago, he had begged his Lord to spare
Hermione and Lily. Now he had. “I kept your secret to remind you that you are loyal to me
Severus Snape and that I am merciful and I forgave you for laying with a mudblood, but if
she interferes with my plans, I won’t be merciful again.”
“Thank you My Lord. My wand is yours.”
“Go.”
Voldemort had returned.
Severus had gotten his first job back.
His daughter was safe. Severus would bleed for as long as it was necessary in order to keep it
that way.
He would return to Hogwarts, to where Dumbledore would be waiting. He had a lot to report
and a lot of convincing to do too. Dumbledore had seen Harry’s memories in the Pensive.
Severus hadn’t been privy to those and he knew it was because despite Dumbledore’s words,
there was still a part of the old man that didn’t trust him. Severus knew that he’d have to
answer every question to Dumbledore’s satisfaction before he was allowed to see them.
Remus Lupin had been smart and had played his cards fast. Severus had told him to hold
Black back and the man had simply evaded his boyfriend since then. Nothing kept Sirius
Black busier than smelling a rat around Remus. Harry was angry and he blamed Lily,
Hermione and of course, Severus himself. The scene in the Hospital Wing showed that Sirius
blamed the same ones with the addition of Remus.
The longer Remus avoided Black, the longer they had until the fallout.
His sudden disappearance makes me believe he knows more than he let on last year And
wasn’t Dumbledore correct as always? It hadn’t been an entire surprise to find Remus in his
office when he returned that morning, because he knew that they needed to talk immediately.
It seemed ridiculous that they had spent so many weeks and hours working on their plan to
hide Hermione safely and now they had only minutes of hushed conversations to align their
version of the truth.
They agreed on one thing: Hermione was the one that deserved the entire truth first. The
others - Harry and Black - would get the truth only and if only they could be trusted to not
tell Dumbledore.
Severus Apparated to the outskirts of Hogsmeade, he couldn’t allow anyone to see his sorry
form. He transformed into his animagus form and flew to his quarters, where he showered
and changed out of his bloodied robes.
Dumbledore was waiting, an edge to his patience that Severus felt he could cut himself if he
tested it. He told everything, word for word of his conversation with Voldemort. He was back
in. Voldemort didn’t mention anything about how Harry had survived. Harry had been struck
that night in Godric’s Hollow and Hermione's shield protected him. Dumbledore believed
that there was something important in the way Voldemort had been interested in Hermione's
blood adoption.
“You see, Severus,” Dumbledore began, “Tom has the same faults as he had as a boy.”
Severus said nothing, he hadn’t met Tomas a boy. “But you don’t carry yours anymore.” He
said, “Since the revelation, there’s one moment I find myself going back to.” He motioned to
his pensive and Severus saw himself in the waters, he couldn’t hear himself but he knew the
words coming from his mouth. He hurt Hermione! He had allowed his anger and his worry to
get the best of him then. And now he was paying for it.
“She is Lily’s, Albus.” He said, his voice low and so goddamn tired, “She’s in my house and I
don’t see James Potter’s spitting image when I see her. It was easy to care for her.”
“Because she’s yours.”
“I didn’t know.” He repeated.
The man was incessantly curious about who was behind Hermione’s kidnapping and Severus
'I didn't know’ Snape had cleared his himself from having to explain that. He only hoped
Remus would be able to twist a convincing tale when he decided to face Albus.
Dumbledore smiled kindly, but to Severus it looked pityingly. “Tell me Severus, didn’t the
possibility ever cross your mind? After all, you had an encounter with Lily and certainly the
timing of her pregnancy and birth would raise the question to any sensible man. Tell me you
never looked for similarities between you and the girl.”
It was easy to answer this, because it was the truth after all. Before Lily told him, he hadn’t
even entertained the possibility that the girl could have been his. “No.” He said, “My—
encounter with Lily was very particular in its happenings. It would have been naive and
childish to even consider that a brilliant witch like her would allow a pregnancy to happen.”
“But it happened.”
Severus nodded. “It did.”
“What are you going to do?” Albus asked, as if Severus was a teenager who just found out he
got a girl pregnant and he only had two sickles to his name. “I understand you told those
things to maintain your cover, but I know you Severus, I’ve seen you with the girl, I know
that you don’t really believe that she’s no longer yours, no matter what the blood adoption
did.”
No, because for the past four years he had looked for similarities between him and Hermione
and there was one thing that was glowingly his: Her arrogance. Severus had taken the
calculated risk to keep his blood in her, because he couldn’t separate himself from that
remaining part of Lily. She was his. By blood and life.
“She's my daughter.” He said. There it was. At last. Out. She was his. “She's my daughter,”
he repeated because now he fucking could, “but Hermione has a life with her muggle parents
that has been shaken since last year. I will respect her wishes, whatever they turn to be.”
Yes or no questions. Cutting their chances of explaining. Demanding and turning her back as
her wished. He’d have that for a long as she deemed so.
Dumbledore nodded. “Very good.” And in a bout of rare honesty, he added, “Congratulations
Severus, Hermione is a brilliant girl.”
“I had nothing to do with that.”
“Now, now Severus. You are her Head of House and as the rumours around the castle goes,
she’s your favourite student just as much as you are her favourite professor. You are to be
congratulated.”
He nodded. He wanted this conversation over. For once, he was desperate to go back talking
about Voldemort. “How should I procede?” He asked, “Voldemort is interested in the blood
protection on both siblings.”
Dumbledore smiled again, an air of superiority that irked every inch of Severus’ body.
“Voldemort’s ritual was very specific. He used the ‘bone of the father’ to grow his bones,
making his entire body out of a single bone of his father. The ‘flesh of the servant’ became
his flesh while the ‘blood of the enemy’ became his blood. Can’t you see? He’s curious
whether he made the correct choice by choosing Harry’s blood. But the meaning of this, is
that now Harry's blood and Lily’s sacrifice now lives in him as well as Harry’s." Severus
flinched, repulsed by the idea that anything of Lily’s ran to that half-snake madman. Another
smile, “But what exactly that will mean to both Harry and Voldemort, we have yet to see.”
It was both an omission and a dismissal. Severus knew that Dumbledore already had some
thoughts on what that connection might entail, but he wouldn’t be sharing it now. Severus
was too tired to care. He’d worry about that later. He had a forgiveness to win.
In the days that preceded the train back, Severus avoided leaving his office. He took his
meals in his quarters and only talked to his O.W.L.s and N.E.W.Ts students that were likely to
have failed an exam. Minerva came to talk to him, he sent her away. Filius came as well, ’it
makes sense now Severus, both brilliant parents, a brilliant daughter’. He sent Filius away,
but he smiled to himself. The half-goblin still hadn’t forgiven the many pranks James Potter
had played on him. Filius was one of the few people who didn’t see any brilliancy in James
Potter.
Hermione didn’t come with any more questions and it unnerved him. They had two days
before the summer and then two months before they returned to the castle. Would she leave
without asking everything? Would he see her during the summer?
He saw her on the Leaving Feast. With Theodore Nott and Draco Malfoy on each side.
Funny, how things turn to be. Those two boys' fathers had been at Voldemort’s rebirth
watching Harry be tortured, but their sons were protecting Hermione. Theodore had gone as
far as to become friendly with Harry.
Above them, the Great Hall was decorated with black drapes on the wall behind the teachers’
table. The real Alastor Moody was sitting a few seats from him - his kidnapping and hostage
situation had been kept a secret from the student body. Severus wished that Ronald Weasley’s
tongue had held another secret Harry Potter had told him. But as it was, he watched as the
students looked between him and Hermione, whispering, pointing. She refused to look at him
or at anyone who wasn’t her immediate friends.
Karkaroff was truly gone, his Durmstrang students were to return to school without a
headmaster. Krum, with his fame behind him, had been cleared of the use of an Unforgivable
because it was proved that another Unforgivable had been used on him.
He caught Harry’s eyes and the boy stared. He kept his face impassive and prayed the gods to
have mercy on him next year. Harry Potter despised him on a good day, now with the
knowledge that Severus had slept with Harry's mother while she was in a relationship with
his father, there would be no good days.
Dumbledore, stood up at the staff table. And for once, he didn’t need to call for silence. “The
end of another year.” He began and looked at the Hufflepuff table. “There is much that I
would like to say to you all tonight,” Dumbledore announced, which was interesting, given
how he held onto information last year. “But I must first acknowledge the loss of a very fine
person, who should be sitting here,” he gestured toward the Hufflepuffs, “enjoying our feast
with us. I would like you all, please, to stand, and raise your glasses, to Cedric Diggory.”
The benches scraped as everyone in the Hall stood, and raised their goblets, and echoed,
“Cedric Diggory.”
“Cedric was a person who exemplified many of the qualities that distinguish Hufflepuff
house,” Dumbledore continued. “He was a good and loyal friend, a hard worker, he valued
fair play. His death has affected you all, whether you knew him well or not. I think that you
have the right, therefore, to know exactly how it came about.” He said and Severus
straightened himself, Hermione was looking at the Headmaster with an expression that was
worthy of a sentence in Azkaban. “Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort.”
Severus could see the same panicked, disbelieving and horrified expression Fudge had in
many students.
“The Ministry of Magic,” Dumbledore continued, “does not wish me to tell you this. It is
possible that some of your parents will be horrified that I have done so — either because they
will not believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, or because they think I should not tell you
so, young as you are. It is my belief, however, that the truth is generally preferable to lies,
and that any attempt to pretend that Cedric died as the result of an accident, or some sort of
blunder of his own, is an insult to his memory. There is somebody else who must be
mentioned in connection with Cedric’s death,” Dumbledore went on. “I am talking, of course,
about Harry Potter.” Hermione had a single tear running down her cheek, but her eyes were
still murderous. “Harry Potter managed to escape Lord Voldemort. He risked his own life to
return Cedric’s body to Hogwarts. He showed, in every respect, the sort of bravery that few
wizards have ever shown in facing Lord Voldemort, and for this, I honor him.”
Severus watched as the students, who had so easily turned their backs on the boy once his
name came out of the goblet of fire were now raising theirs glasses and drinking to him.
Dumbledore didn’t see that some Slytherins didn’t drink, that Hermione hadn’t drank. And he
knew it wasn’t because she didn’t agree that her brother deserved honor, but that she didn’t
agree that Harry should have done it at all.
“The Triwizard Tournament’s aim was to further and promote magical understanding. In the
light of what has happened — of Lord Voldemort’s return — such ties are more important
than ever before.” Dumbledore looked at Hermione then and Severus wondered if the old
man was willing to face her ire. “New and old ties.” He said, clearly deciding not to poke her.
“Every guest in this Hall will be welcomed back here at any time, should they wish to come.
I say to you all, once again — in the light of Lord Voldemort’s return, we are only as strong
as we are united, as weak as we are divided. Lord Voldemort’s gift for spreading discord and
enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship
and trust. Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our
hearts are open. May our hearts be open to our friends, to our families whoever they might
turn out to be.” Hermione’s eyes were slits behind her glare. “It is my belief — and never
have I so hoped that I am mistaken — that we are all facing dark and difficult times. Some of
you in this Hall have already suffered directly at the hands of Lord Voldemort. Many of your
families have been torn asunder. A week ago, a student was taken from our midst. Remember
Cedric. Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is
right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and
brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort. Remember Cedric Diggory.”
He finished his speech and Severus thanked Hermione’s glaring abilities that kept him from
publicly addressing her family turning asunder.
In the end, it was Theodore Nott that came.
Severus knew he would, because Nott wasn’t going to take the train anymore, he and Nneka
had worked an entire case against Adeodatus Nott at the Department of Minor’s Affair at the
Ministry and the man wasn’t allowed near his son. But they couldn’t trust that the man would
respect it.
But he knew Theodore wasn’t there just to use his Floo.
“She told us that you didn't know.” He said and Severus had gotten the habit of casting
silencing spells at the sight of either Theodore or Hermione, so he was prepared. “But only a
fool would believe that. And Hermione’s no fool, so I know she lied to us. The others are not
aware of how many times you warned me to keep an eye on her, so I know you’ve known.”
“Do you have a question, Theodore?”
“No." He replied quickly, and added with a lack of respect that was astonishing. "She has a
father that she loves already. There was nothing she could do or feel about James Potter, as
he’s dead. She is angry, rightly so, but so, so angry, Professor. I’m telling you this because of
everything you’ve done for me and because I know you care for her.” How many more
people would tell him that he cared for his daughter? “I know Hermione better than anyone
else. She’s going to forgive Remus for his lies because she loves him.” The she doesn’t love
you was very clear. “You are alive Professor and you have one chance, if you do it right, you
can have not only her forgiveness, but you can get to be her father and Merlin knows how
much you want that.”
Chapter End Notes
I hope you enjoyed this chapter, please leave a comment if you feel like it.
The title and the quote at the beginning are a rough translation of Nieko Nebijojo by
Gabrielė Vilkickytė. The original lyrics in Lithuanian are:
Užmigti ramiai, be baimės atsibust

Kiek vienatvės valandų
Už tai turėjai sumokėti
Kad sugrįžtum vėl namo
Ir tyliam kambary išsėdėti
It's one of my native languages and I thought it very fitting to the chapter's events.
too busy playing the victim to be listening to me
Chapter Notes
Hello!! The reaction to the last chapter was... something, to say the least!! I truly
appreciate all the comments (even the huge ones) and it's really gratifying for me as a
writer to see you guys this invested in this story (this silly thing that started because I
was being self-serving).
My classes have returned last week and I'm proud to say that I still am up-to-date with
all of my assignments, which means a sort of downside to the progress of this story
because I only found the time to continue the next chapter yesterday
Anyway, hope you enjoy it! And don't be too mad or hate me too much!!
but please don't ruin this for me

please don't make it harder than it already is
I'm trying to get over this
Chapter Forty-One
“Harry,” She called. He was sitting close to the window, his face turned to the outside.
Hermione could see his reflection from the glass and saw that he was looking at her through
it. But still, he didn’t turn. “I understand that you are angry, but it’s not my fault.” Hermione
said and despite trying, her annoyance slipped through. “It doesn’t change anything for me.”
She added, “I'm still your sister.”
He tensed, but remained silent. Hermione missed his green eyes so much, that only now that
she was being refused, she realised just how much she loved them. None of his friends said
anything, they just looked silently between the siblings. Ron, Neville and Ginny, three
witness to Hermione’s unshed tears.
“Come,” Draco called, his voice soft, “let's find a place to sit.”
Hermione nodded and without waiting for a reply, left Harry in his compartment. It would be
a long summer.
She said her goodbyes to her friends at the platform and decided not to linger, because five
minutes after arrival, she had students pointing at her to their parents.
Pansy hugged her tightly, “if you need anything, owl me.” The girl whispered on her ear.
Hermione nodded. Pansy would be going with Daphne to their French home and then she’d
portkey to whatever secret location her parents were staying.
Daphne hugged her next, “you can stay with me if—” she didn’t need to finish her sentence.
If it went wrong with her parents.
Narcissa and Lucius were waiting for their son, Hermione looked at them from where she
stood. They had known. The summers and Christmases at the Manor, the many times
Professor Snape turned up when she was there or the many times Narcissa sent Hermione to
help him in the Malfoy Greenhouse. They had known.
Draco caught her expression, “Do you want to go over?” He asked her and she shook her
head.
“They knew, Draco.” She whispered. “I need some answers from Remus before I talk to
them.”
He nodded and leaned in to kiss her cheek. “See you then? Even if it’s just so you can yell at
them.”
She gave him a small smile and nodded.
Theo and Blaise hadn’t taken the train, going instead directly from Professor Snape’s floo.
And since Harry wasn’t speaking to her, she didn’t have anyone else to say goodbye too. She
didn’t look, because Hermione didn’t want to find Sirius and receive yet another glare from
him. Remus was still missing. Honestly? She wanted to do the same.
Hermione crossed the barrier to the muggle side of King’s Cross and spotted her parents at
once. They were chatting with Dean Thomas’ mother. For a moment, panic struck her and
Hermione thought that her parents would get the truth from a fifteen year old muggleborn.
Dean shook his head and Hermione let out a long relieved breath. At least one Gryffindor had
common sense.
She hugged both of her parents in greeting and when her father asked his yearly, “how was
your year, sweetheart?” She felt her eyes brimming with tears.
“It was intense Dad, very intense.” She replied against his chest.
He chuckled, but it was a bit strained, as if he could hear something off in her tone.
She had returned for Christmas, so she didn’t have an entire year of events to go through
during the drive home, but Hermione told them about the second task and how she
participated in - the near drowning was kept from them - and then she told them about the
third task. The backseat of the car wasn’t the best place to talk about Cedric’s death or
Voldemort’s return, but she had the respite of seating behind the passenger’s seat and
avoiding her mother’s face and since her father couldn’t remove his eyes from the road, she
could pretend to not notice him looking through the rear mirror every so often.
Hermione kept the most important detail to herself, even though it made almost impossible to
look at their faces. I’m not their daughter. Crookshanks knew something was wrong, because
for once, he didn’t run off as soon as he was released from his cage, he lingered around her,
kept close to her legs and nudging her calfs with his nose. It was her cat's clear show of
support.
Her room was the same as she had left during Christmas and a strong wave of sadness
overcame her, threatening to sweep her from her feet, she kept her foot, but the water spilled
from her eyes. Hermione sobbed and her entire body shook with the strength of her grief.
Hermione didn’t know what exactly had set her off, maybe it was the stillness of her
bedroom, how it dared to be unaffected, unchanged in face of the turmoil of her life. Or how
she now felt that every piece of furniture or comfort in the pale blue walls didn’t belong to
her. Maybe it was the ghost of the girl who was supposed to be in this room, the girl who
Hermione didn’t know the name, who her parents also didn’t know. It wasn’t only
Hermione's life they had taken, this faceless and nameless girl who would have grown with
loving parents and would never know need.
Maybe it was Harry’s anger, pointless and aimless, ridiculously thrown at her as if she had
had any say on the machinations of adults who decided they could play God.
It certainly had to do with Severus Snape. Hermione felt cheated, like she had been the butt
of a long-running joke. A joke between every adult in the wizard world that she cared about.
Every interaction, every word spoken and advice given: he had been her father.
And Remus! Remus was her godfather and he knew, he knew everything and lied. He told his
truth while still keeping his lies. He gave her a bedroom in a house with stories from a father
that wasn’t hers.
God, Hermione felt breathless, her tears, long overdue, were choking her. They burned and
her nose ran, she was a mess of salty tears and snot.
“Breathe, Hermione, breathe.” She heard and it was his dad’s voice. Hermione hadn’t heard
them coming. She shook her head and cried harder, his love and affection had the opposite
effect on her now, because she knew she was going to lose them. She just knew it.
“You are scaring us, my love. What’s wrong?” Her mother asked, and Hermione felt soft
hands against her hair. She couldn’t say it, she needed Remus. She didn’t have anything, how
could she explain? Remus had promised to be here.
“Please,” she cried, the only word capable of coming out midst her breakdown. Hermione
took a deep, shaky breath, “please don’t hate me, please. It’s not my fault, I—” the lump
returned and it swallowed her. She had wanted to have a day or two with them, soak their
presence and love and then call Remus, but it was all falling apart around her and inside her.
How stupid had she been? Getting a cat instead of an owl! Hermione cried harder, she needed
Remus and didn’t have any means to contact him. “I need—” she didn’t know what she
needed. Remus, certainly. More time, most definitely. Her parents to forgive her, like a
lifeline. “Forgive me,” she begged.
“My love, we could never hate you.” Her mother said against her hair, she had been pulled
into a hug. She could feel her father kneeling in front of her, he was holding her knees tightly.
“We could never.”
“It's not my fault.” She repeated and like a broken machine, kept saying, “it's not my fault.”
“It's okay darling, we know. We understand.”
“No, it’s—” she cut off. The doorbell rang. And then again. Quite persistent.
“I will get the door. I will be right back, my love.”
Hermione nodded and thanked the random stranger for the perfect timing. She heard the door
opening but she couldn’t hear her father downstairs, her heart was beating too loud in her
chest and her head was pounding from all the crying.
Her mother stilled next to her. “I know you.” She said and Hermione turned.
Like a miracle, standing in the doorstep, looking miserable, was Remus Lupin.
It was pitiful, the sound that tore through her. Remus was moving at once and she threw her
arms around him, “Please,” she cried, “I can’t do this.”
“I'm here.” He said against her hair, “I'm here. You are not alone.”
“How—” her father said, he sounded completely confused, but there was weariness in his
tone too.
“I know you.” Her mother repeated. “You worked in that bookstore. You ruined her sixth
birthday when you told you were moving away.” Jesus fucking Christ, Merlin on a cross .
Remus had told her about the bookstore, she remembered vaguely the place and him - the
kind man who worked there.
“Yes,” Remus said. “I believe it’s better if we move this to a place where we can all sit down
before I can explain—”
“No.” Her father said, accusative and worried. He tried to grab hold of Hermione’s wrist, to
pull her to him and away from Remus.
“Dad, it’s better to sit, I—”
“Hermione.” Her mother spoke, her eyes sharp and undoubtedly already thinking the worst.
Hermione could imagine her line of thinking: Hermione sobbing uncontrollably, asking for
forgiveness, a man twice her age knocking on her door, she throwing herself at him, the man
in question being one she knew before she turned six years old. “How do you know this
man?” Hermione knew he had been there to keep an eye on her, to her mother, it would look
like he had been grooming her.
“I’m a wizard.” He said and he seemed to reach the same conclusion as Hermione, because
he pulled away from her. “I taught her Defence Against the Dark Arts taught at school last
year.”
Her mother sat back down on her bed. Her father followed suit. Hermione moved to the chair
on her desk, she placed the cushion there on her lap and gripped it tightly. Remus took the
armchair on the corner.
“Why are you here?” Her father asked. “How did you know she needed you?”
“What?” Hermione asked, her eyes wide.
Her father scowled, “He knew you were crying. That’s the only reason I let a strange man
inside the house.”
“She called me.” Remus replied and Hermione gasped. The bond. The entire point of the
godparent bond was to let the godparent know when their godchild was in distress. And
Hermione had been thinking of him.
“How?” Her mother said. She was still thinking this was some ungodly affair. Remus looked
at her in question and Hermione gave a weak nod.
“I'm her godfather.”
Her mother spluttered, her father exploded, “what is this nonsense?”
Hermione braced herself.
“Has Hermione ever told you about the Missing Sister?” She had. Her parents nodded. “In
the autumn of 1979, a prophecy was made foretelling the birth of a boy in July to parents
who had thrice defied Lord Voldemort. This prophecy was made in secret, but it was
overheard by one of his supporters at the time, who ran to tell his Master, unknowingly that
he had just cursed the son of the woman he loved.
‘When he learned that, he immediately tried to make it right, by going to Dumbledore and
confessing everything, vowing to work for Dumbledore if he could keep her safe.
Dumbledore took his vow and hid them. Mother, father, Harry and his older sister. In January
of the following year, a letter came to that same man, it was from Lily, the mother. She told
him that the girl, was his, not James’, the boy’s father. She wanted him to know, in case
anything happened to them. In case they couldn’t protect Harry, Lily wanted him to hide the
girl.
‘I was one of Lily’s best friend and she told me truth.” Remus stopped for a moment and
Hermione knew it was coming, by the ashen look in her parents’ faces, the way her mother
was gripping her sheets so that her knuckles were white and the way her father was shaking
his head like Remus was insane, she knew they knew it too. “She made me godfather so I
could protect her, could keep an eye on her while she grew.”
“This is absurd!” Her father said, getting up and pointing a finger at Remus, he was shaking.
“Get out of my house! I don’t care what sort of lies you’ve filled my daughter’s head, the
powers you magical folk have, I won’t have it! Get out!”
“Hermione was sick as a child, wasn’t she?” Remus asked, unshaken by her father’s reaction.
Her mother was silent. Her father stopped, frozen in the middle of the room. “Bacterial
Meningitis.” He said, “You took her to every children’s hospital between Covent Garden,
South Kensington and South Bank, didn’t you?” Her father took a step back. “They kept
sending you home.”
“How?” He whispered.
“We needed to find her a place. A family who would take her. We couldn’t simply put her for
adoption, that would be too easy to track. The ministry is alerted of every magical child, they
keep a special watch on muggleborns, in case intervention before their Hogwarts letters is
necessary. We knew that they would come for her if they found her, it took years before they
stopped looking.
‘What we did, it wasn’t right.” Remus said with a sigh, “we needed a little girl who had her
age and who was sickly,” he hesitated, “we needed a little girl who was dying. We got access
to medical files, we poured over them until we found hers. We knew she had been
misdiagnosed, every time you brought her in, we were alerted and one of us would rush to
the hospital. We wore many faces. We would heal her just enough and—” he sighed and
Hermione now understood why Remus wore guilt like no one else. He had it in spades. When
he spoke next, it was very slow and careful, “We modified your memory.” A pause. “They
had close birthdays. We tweaked the few days of difference.” Another pause. “Her name. I
doubt not then but innocence shall make, false accusation blush and tyranny tremble at
patience.” Remus quoted, word for word Hermione’s dialogue from the play, the one her
father would always remind her that it was where he got the name. Her father gasped and
there was only hurt in his expression, her mother had been silently crying from the moment
Remus said the words Bacterial Meningitis. “The memory you have of reading A Winter’s
Tale in bed and feeling touched by the scene, it was placed there by a very powerful Master
of the Arts of the Mind.”
Professor Snape.
Remus got punched. Right on the face. Hermione’s scream got caught in her throat as Remus
swayed. Her father advanced on Remus. They both went to the floor, grappling. “How dare
you!” He snarled, his entire face purple and her eyes rimmed red, “how dare you steal my
daughter!” He drew his arm for another punch.
“Dad!” Hermione called, her own face wet with tears. Her father whirled, he was
unrecognisable to her and even worse, she was unrecognisable to him.
He staggered, pulled away from Remus, but remained on the floor. His knees on the carpet,
his shoulders slouched and only sorrow on his face. Her father didn’t look up, so Remus
continued - bleeding -, now looking to her mother.
“Your daughter died two days after Halloween.” Her father was the one sobbing now, while
her mother trembled silently. "When the doctors took her, we performed a blood ritual. Your
daughter’s blood went to Hermione while we removed Lily’s blood from her. She is your
blood. We kept her father’s blood, in case we needed proof of claim later, with that we hid
Hermione’s true identity, so no one could find her through locating spells. It’s called a blood
adoption. Pure-bloods used to do this when they had to claim their bastard children. Blood
magic is tricky and powerful, and often temperamental. It’s directly connected to someone’s
magical core. The bookstore in St. Albans was next to an Apothecary. Every two months you
went there to get Hermione’s compounding medicine. It was a potion to keep her magical
blood subdued, as magical blood is stronger and the bone narrow in her body would keep
producing magical blood. The garden around the house, the wormwood bushes… They were
also planted there to maintain the spell.”
“Stop.” Her mother begged, finally having enough. “Please stop.”
“I'm sorry.” He said, “I truly am.”
“I said stop.” Her mother repeated. There was tension in her arms and hands, Hermione could
see from the armchair she still refused to move from. Her mother was a woman who carried
anger silently and in dangerous stillness. Her mother turned to her then, “You say that you are
fighting the good side.” She said, “but your people have no respect for us. No matter the
side.”
“Mum—” Her voice broke and she let whatever she wanted to say hang in the air unsaid.
“You people think you can come and play God with our lives, decide who gets to live and
who gets to die.” Her mother said, Hermione regretted telling them about the muggles in the
World Cup. “The insanity that is your world, we’ve accepted and trusted you. We lied to
everyone around you, we grew apart from most of our family members because we were
keeping your secret. All the while we had been manipulated, invaded and fooled.”
“I'm sorry, mum.” Hermione cried.
“You knew, didn’t you?” She asked. “We raised you, we know when you are lying. We know
you don’t tell us everything that happens in your world. You came home for Christmas
shaken and acting strange, we knew something was wrong, we knew you were keeping
something from us, we didn’t ask because we wanted to give you space, but you came back
to investigate didn’t you?”
“I didn’t come back to investigate.” Hermione denied, “I had known, yes.” She confessed and
it was like Hermione had slapped them both with a single sentence. “I learned part of the
truth at the end of my third year.”
“The summer you refused to come home. You went straight to that family.” Hermione
nodded.
“I couldn't—I didn’t know how to face you after—I couldn’t lie, but I also couldn’t tell you
the truth, because I didn’t have it. Mum, I swear, this entire year I thought I was Lily’s and
James’ daughter, it was only two weeks ago that I learned that I was Professor S—” she
stopped mid-sentence. Her father had raised his head to look at her.
“Professor Snape.” He said. His voice was foreign to her, he sounded and looked defeated.
Merlin, she was his golden girl. “Is he your father then?” Hermione felt incapable of nodding.
Yes, Professor Snape had fathered her, but could she steal the title from her dad? Remus
could, so he spoke in her place. Her father’s face twisted: jealously, grief, rage, betrayal. So
many emotions, emotions that she had never seen on her father’s face. God, they had been so
happy for her when the letter came, felt so proud. Her family was a blessing, they were so
good to her and now she had broken it. “You've always liked him.”
‘My Hermione speaks very highly of you.’
‘She's my best student’.
“Dad—”
“When he came to this house, I asked him to keep an eye on you, I was worried about the
older boy you went to that ball with.” He huffed, however, there was no amusement in the
sound, “I was talking from father to father.”
“Daddy, please—” Hermione cried and finally got up from the armchair, she fell to the floor
in front of him.
He looked away and Hermione’s heart seized in her chest. “I love you darling, more than you
know. But—” his voice cracked and Hermione’s thought impossible how her body was still
capable of producing tears. “There's grief inside my chest. There’s this pain that is so open
and raw. My little girl is sitting in front of me, but my little girl died thirteen years ago. It’s
—”
“Do you even remember her name?” Her mother asked Remus. “The name we chose.”
“It was Amelia.” Remus replied. “She's buried at Hatfield Road Cemetery in St. Albans.”
“The name we thought of when we believed I was pregnant again.” She said. Hermione
couldn’t read her mother’s expression or get anything from her voice. It was distant. “Your
father is right—” she stopped at father, winced and then continued. “He's right and I wasn’t
lying when I told you that we could never hate you, but Hermione—” there, finally. Her-my-
uh-nee, utter pain with every syllable of Hermione’s name. “It's an impossible situation. You
had an entire year to come into terms with this. Right now, I feel like I’ve been thrown back
to that sterile waiting room, staring at those barely hanging pumpkin cardboards, waiting for
any news, not knowing you’d live to see the next day. And now I find that you didn’t—she
didn’t.
‘I think it’s better for you to leave. At least for now. I don’t want to say anything to hurt you,
because I am hurt Hermione, utterly so. I don’t want you to be here while I come to terms
with this, because I don’t want my grief and anger to cause something that we can’t come
back from.”
Hermione nodded. It was more than Harry had given her. And they were the ones who were
allowed to kick her to the curb, not him.
“We will write you,” her father said. “When we are ready.”
“Okay.” She said, her voice small. “I really am sorry.”

“We know.” He said, “we are sorry too.”
Hermione left her room, Crookshanks was in the corridor waiting for her. She heard her
father’s voice from the room.
“We don’t forgive you, none of you.”
“I know. You shouldn’t.”
Remus came out of the room, he was carrying her trunk - the one she didn’t even get the
chance to unpack. He wrapped her in a strong hug. Finally, she had no more tears left.
There was an emptiness in her chest that Hermione doubted it would ever disappear.
“I'm so sorry Hermione, so sorry.”
Hermione pulled back and looked at him. He did look as sorry as she'd ever seen him. “Are
there any more secrets, Remus?”
“Yes.” He replied, “with Narcissa.”
Hermione nodded. She figured. “Take me to the Manor then.”
“I will. But first, we should go to my place. With Voldemort back and the Death Eaters
reunited, I can’t just take you there without checking in first with her.”
“But Sirius—”
“He's not there.” Remus said. “He's currently not speaking to me.”
“Oh,”
Remus snorted, “Yes, oh.” He squeezed her arm and together they walked down the stairs.
Hermione looked around her. Her house. She had spent so little time there since the day she
got her letter, not once she thought she wouldn’t have it anymore, that one day she would be
asked to leave. “Ready?” He asked.
“Yes.”
“Come here, pup” He put his arms around her again and with her head tucked on his chest,
she prepared to Apparate.
They landed in Remus’ front porch. Hermione wondered with a pang if she had just left a
part of her behind.
Crookshanks hated apparition so he complained and jumped from her arms, hissing at both of
them and walking off.
The small living room was the same, but Hermione noticed that two chairs from the dining
table were missing. “What happened?” She asked.
“Sirius happened.”
Hermione frowned, “He took the chairs?”
“He broke the chairs.” Remus replied with a sigh. He watched the space where the chairs
were supposed to be with a forlorn look on his face. Hermione guessed that their
conversation had been ugly.
“Was it too bad?” She asked.
“Bad?” Remus repeated with a chuckle. “Being punched in the face by your dad was a walk
in the park compared to my conversation with Sirius. If one can call it that.”
“I'm sorry about that.”
“Merlin, Hermione. Please stop apologising for things that are not your fault.” He asked and
left he trunk where the chairs were supposed to be and tugged her to the sofa. “I am the one
who owes apologies to you.” He told her.
“Not the only one.” She snorted.
“No. And they will come.” He said and his tone was final. It wasn’t only Sirius who was
angry with Remus, Remus was also angry. By the golden glint on his eyes, Hermione would
go as far as to say he was furious.
“I don’t understand why they are mad at me.” Hermione said, her voice quite small.
“I can’t speak about Harry, because I still haven’t spoken with him, but I can speak about
Sirius.” He was still holding one of her hands in his and Hermione appreciated the contact. It
grounded her, reminded her that this was real. That it wasn’t a nightmare. “I’m not going to
make excuses for him, Merlin knows he doesn’t deserve it, but you deserve to know.”
“Okay.”
“Remember when I told you that I was Lily’s friend first?” He asked and she nodded, “Sirius
wasn’t her friend at all. Only after we left Hogwarts did they find some sort of truce. At
school, they were always at each other’s throats. Lily was a stickler for rules and it drove her
crazy how Sirius and James didn’t care about anything. She’d work hard to get us points all
to have those two lose them with a prank or another. For the first few years, I truly believed
they hated one another. And well, Sirius always had it out for Severus. Not that he was
innocent, for he was nasty, and I wasn’t innocent either, eventually when I befriended them, I
did my share against Severus, but every prank, every new trick or spell they learned it was
tested on him. Lily and Severus were best friends, they were always together, partners in
every class. She was just as brilliant in Potions as he was, you know? And James, he was
obsessed since day one. He thought the world of her—” Remus chuckled, “he barely knew
how to tie his shoes without magic and was attempting to flirt with her. I think it bothered
Sirius, because he thought the world of James and didn’t understand how she preferred
Severus over his best friend, or how she was a Gryffindor and would proudly hang with a
Slytherin all the time.
‘Then there was Sirius’ brother, who sorted Slytherin one year after us and from that moment
on, their relationship was strained. And to make matters worse, guess what else? Severus was
friends with Sirius’ brother.”
Hermione had never heard of Sirius’ brother. “I didn’t know he had a brother.”
“I know, he doesn’t talk about Regulus.” Reg. She had learned now. It was supposed to go to
Reg, but he died and I’m almost certain it’s mine now. If Sirius had gone to Azkaban at
twenty-one and his younger brother had died before that, Merlin, how old had he been?
“How did he die?”
“He took the Dark Mark.” Remus said, “people say he got in too deep and panicked about the
things he was being asked to do. He tried to ran away and was killed for it. He was eighteen
and no one never found his body.”
“That’s terrible.” Hermione said. They were all so young.
“Yeah, but that was how things were back then,” and almost as he could read her mind, “we
were all too young and we were all dying. I began working for the Order before I even
finished my last year, but anyway, that’s a story for another time.” He shook his head. “So,
can you see the picture? Severus had both Lily and Regulus. Sirius’ little brother and James’
girl. It didn’t matter that she only became James’ girl when James became Head Boy and Lily
became Head Girl. But before that,” Remus hesitated and Hermione knew that face now.
“No more lies Remus,” she said, before he decided to skip whatever had made him pause.
He chuckled. “Is it too soon to tell you that you are quite similar to Severus?”
“Yes.” Hermione replied, because yes, she couldn’t even think of the word father next to
Professor Snape’s name. Merlin, she had yet to drop the title.
“Okay, and I won’t lie. But this is not my secret to tell, so if I can still ask anything from you,
I only ask you to be careful with this.” She nodded, because as it turned out, Hermione was
very good with secrets. After all, she was born of one. “Sirius and I, we got together during
our fifth year. At first, we kept it a secret from everyone, Sirius was scared of James finding
out, because Sirius was terrified of James’ reaction. Which, was quite ridiculous because one
of James’ best qualities was his kindness. Our relationship never mattered to him, but it
mattered to Regulus. James was the one who built the bridge between the two brothers.”
Remus chuckled and his eyes were a bit wet from all the memories, “James built something
else with Regulus too.”
Hermione made a surprised sound and Remus smirked mischievously. “Do you mean—”
“It was the seventies, Hermione.” He said, as if it explained everything. Well, she had seen
pictures of her father in the seventies, with long hair and a moustache, maybe it did explain.
“But yeah, so during that time, between our fifth year and the summer before our seventh
year, even with Sirius being disowned by his family on Christmas’ Eve of our sixth year, he
had everything he wanted in the way he wanted.” Remus sighed, a very long one at that. “But
the thing with Sirius is, he doesn’t know how to quit. We kept pestering Severus, but Sirius
took it too far. There’s a reason why Severus and I don’t get along despite everything we’ve
done for you all these years, there’s a reason why Severus was willing to kill Sirius at the
Shrieking Shack and wouldn’t mind killing him now if given the chance. And before you try,
this story is Severus’ to tell.” Hermione nodded and allowed him to continue. “Sirius did
something that I couldn’t forgive him for, that initiated an avalanche of events that led to
Severus and Lily’s fallout, which had Regulus and Severus becoming closer and eventually,
Regulus’ estrangement from Sirius again. Severus and Regulus were hanging out with the
worst kind of people, every one of them now is either dead, in Azkaban or was supposed to
be, well both.
‘It was Sirius’ mistake that made James grow and mature. He changed and Lily saw it, so
when we returned for our last year and they both became Head, they began dating. And
Regulus had gotten his mark.”
Her eyes widened. “At sixteen?” She whispered. Remus nodded.
Hermione could see it. An impulsive sixteen year old Sirius Black who had a boyfriend, a
best friend who was dating someone he approved, the annoying girl out of the picture and his
enemy away from his brother. But then he did something and everything went to shit.
Whether it had been a direct consequence or not, whatever he did to Severus took everything
from him. And then she understood. “I'm the last straw.” She said. “In his head, Lily took
James from Regulus and Severus took Regulus from him. And now, Severus took me from
him.”
Remus nodded sadly, “We took you from him.” He corrected, “He is aware now of my
involvement with this. Make no mistake Hermione, he will come round for you,” Remus told
her, with the patience and knowledge of a man who knew Sirius Black intimately and
painfully, “because he’s not a bad person, but he’s radioactive and he can cause destruction
before he can see reason. And he will see reason, but while we don’t cross that bridge, I am
here and Severus is here. Lily is dead and unfortunately you are the third escape he found for
his anger.”
“You say he will come round for me.” She said, because she had heard what he kept unsaid,
“you don’t think he’s going to forgive you."
“Yes, he loves you and he knows you are not to blame. I am to blame Hermione.”
“But he loves you too.”
“And he loved me when he told James not to trust me. Just like how I loved him when I
believed him to be traitor.” He squeezed her hand, “love alone is not enough. Actions are
more important, but I know you know that.” Remus got up from the sofa and his entire body
language was of someone who had lost so many battles and would go to the next one
knowing defeat. “You should probably rest, I’ve just told you twenty years’ worth of events
and you still have to unpack your trunk. Sleep, I will contact Narcissa and if it’s safe, you can
go over tomorrow.”
“Okay,” Hermione agreed, “Thank you, Remus. For coming and for telling me everything.”
She was almost by her door when he called her. She turned and waited. “He's going to give
you space.” He said and Hermione knew at once who he was referring to. “Whatever you
decide, whatever you want, he’s going to take it. If you want him to explain his side of things
to you, just say the word and he will be here.”
Hermione nodded. “Narcissa first.”
She got into her room and didn’t let Harry’s bed upset her. She put her trunk on top of it and
set to unpack. Despite the turmoil inside of her, Hermione was confident she’d be able to
breathe soon enough. There would be no more lies. Not on her and not from her.
Her parents knew, she was going to wait for them. Whatever you decide, whatever you want,
he’s going to take it. Remus was right, they were quite similar. Because she was going to do
the same with her parents.
Remus was being her godfather. She didn’t ask if he had talked with Dumbledore, if the
cover-up he and Professor Snape had decided on had stuck, if Mary was being the one to
blame right now. What if Remus lost favour with Dumbledore because of Hermione? What if
Remus was right, and Sirius wouldn’t forgive him? What if they broke up for real because of
her?
Hermione decided to stop thinking. She left her trunk half unpacked and fell on her bed. She
would sleep and tomorrow, well, tomorrow she’d think again.
She woke to the sound of banging around the house.
“Do you need to destroy the bedroom in order to find whatever the hell you are looking for?”
She heard Remus’ voice, “weren't the chairs enough?”
“I can do whatever the hell I want, I paid for these things. This house is mine.” She heard
Sirius voice and froze.
Remus made a sound that was very close to a growl. Hermione quickly checked her calendar
to see when they would have the full moon. “Grand Sirius, absolutely grand. Remember
Azkaban, you fucking cunt? You left the house to me.”
Sirius snorted, “And that’s what I’m looking for, my fucking ring so I can change my will.
I’m certainly not leaving anything to traitors.”
“How low can you go Sirius Black, before you realise you might not climb back up this
time?”
“See if I fucking care, you fucking liar.”
“Get off my closet,” she heard Remus’ angry voice. There was some wrestling, a muffed ‘get
off me’ that she didn’t know to whom it belonged, “your ring is not in there. It’s in the
kitchen cabinet when you decided to use it as a bottle opener.”
“Couldn't have said that before?”
“Of course!” Remus snorted, “because you bloody told me what you were doing when you
barged in and started to throw shit around!”
She heard heavy steps on the corridor and held her breath, she didn’t want to see either of
them.
The banging continued in the kitchen, Hermione could hear the cupboards opening and
closing, the cutlery flying around.
“Quit the tantrum Sirius, you are not five. What? One week in that house and the Black curse
already got to you?”
There was a loud bang and a pained groan. Hermione guessed that Sirius had just pushed
Remus against one of the battered cabinets. “Say that again Remus. You have no idea what
that house is like.”
“You found your ring.” Remus said, “now get out.”
“You betrayed me Moony, and you are not even sorry.”
“I didn’t betray you Padfoot. And I said get out.”
She heard the Floo and sighed in relief. Jesus.
There was a litany of swear words, a few of them Hermione couldn’t understand and she
guessed it was in Cymraeg.
Hermione wasn’t surprised when the knock came a few minutes later. She watched Remus
enter the room and noticed how embarrassed he was that she had heard all of that.
“The punch really was nothing, huh?” She asked.
Remus snorted and sat on the edge of the bed. “I'm sorry you heard all that. I wasn’t
expecting him to come.”
“What if he takes the house from you?” Hermione asked, worried.
She knew it wasn’t her fault, but it wasn’t exactly not her fault either.
“He won’t. But I don’t doubt that he will be petty enough to take the furniture he bought.”
“Should I talk to him?”
“No. He’s alone at Grimmauld Place now and Sirius is the worst at being alone.”
“He spent thirteen years alone in Azkaban.”
“Yes, and it’s my fault to have pushed that aside when he came back. Sirius is not okay and
he still has a long road of recovery ahead of him.”
“Why did he go back there? If he hates the house and it’s terrible for him?”
“Dumbledore wants it to become Headquarters of the Order. The Blacks weren’t the nicest
sort and because the house was empty for so long, they have to be sure it’s safe to get people
there. Sirius is the last Black alive, so he has to be the one to do it, the house has to recognise
him before he can remove any nasty thing left there from his mother.”
Hermione knew that some properties were magical, specially those which had been on
magical soil for so long. Hogwarts, the Manor and apparently Grimmauld Place, but to not
only be sentient but also moody, was something else. She remembered the day that she was
scared at the Manor and how it had sent Lucius to her aid, she wondered if the house could
hurt someone.
“But anyway, Narcissa replied. She’s waiting for you.” Hermione nodded, and Remus added,
“I'd prefer if you stayed here instead of the Manor, I’d be less worried, but you are free to
decide. Just—if you want to return here, wait until after the moon?”
She had checked the calendar earlier and knew that they were four days away from the full
moon. “Will you be okay? Without—”
“I spent thirteen years worth of moons without Padfoot, I can do it again, pup.” He replied
and Hermione knew he wasn’t lying, she knew he could do it without a problem, but she also
knew how much easier it was with Sirius. “But I know Sirius, he will come, even if it’s under
the excuse to fight me in dog form.”
Hermione chuckled and tried to imagine it. Padfoot picking a fight with a werewolf. She
knew he would. “Bite his tail for me Remus.”
He laughed, a genuine one at that, and Hermione smiled at him. “Will do, pup. Will do.”
Remus let her change and get ready to go to the Manor and all the while Hermione kept the
warm feeling inside of her. Pup. She really liked that nickname, she felt like she was part of
his pack.
She only took a duffle bag to the Manor, because she knew that she had more than enough
things in her room there. Hermione wouldn’t say it, because she knew that Remus would
argue, but she was coming back, she didn’t want him alone.
Hermione had breakfast with him, because she knew the Malfoys were early risers and she
didn’t want to sit at a table where half of the occupants spent the last four years lying to her.
Hermione hesitated at the floo, looking around at the house: the two missing chairs, the now
dented top cupboard, Remus’ hurt expression. Maybe she could talk to Narcissa later? Maybe
Narcissa could come?
“Hermione, it’s fine.” He said, catching her expression. “Go, I will be fine.” He picked the
small bag with the Floo powder and got Hermione inside the fireplace. “Don't worry about
me.”
“Okay,” She replied, “I will miss you.”

Remus snorted, but his face was soft when he replied, “If you need me I’m a bond-tug away
from you.”
And honestly, it was the best thing she had heard since the third task.
“Malfoy Manor.” She called and watched his face until the moment the green flames took her
away.
Hermione had barely stepped out of the Floo when she was engulfed in a hug.
Cedar and clove, the smell of something spicy and a hint of hawthorn. Draco.
She allowed him to hug her and wrapped her arms around his waist and hid her head on his
chest.
Draco pulled back just enough to look at her, he held her cheeks and she let him search her
face. Hermione watched his grey eyes as they roamed through her face and without a word
from her, he said “I'm sorry, Granger.”
“I'm sorry too.” She replied.
Hermione loved the Manor, loved the furniture and the colours on the walls, loved the sound
her shoes made against the marble floors, but with Draco this close, she had yet to look
around her, to take her eyes from his face. Maybe she was the one to tip her head up, maybe
he leaned down, but the result was the same. They kissed right there, at the foyer of the
Manor. He still held her face oh so carefully and she gripped the front of his shirt, afraid that
this too, would be taken from her.
“I missed you,” he said against her lips.
Someone coughed to the side and they turned to find Narcissa standing to the side of the
room. “You saw her yesterday, Draco.” Hermione smirked against his shirt as he made an
embarrassed sound and refused to reply to his mother. “It's good to see you Hermione.”
Almost unwillingly, she pulled from Draco, but reached for his hand, keeping contact. “It’s
good to see you too, Aunt Cissy.” Hermione replied, because it was true, despite whatever
secrets she was keeping and the lies she told Hermione, it was good to see Narcissa, they
hadn’t seen each other since the previous summer.
“Draco, help Hermione with her things to her room.”
The boy nodded and together they went to his corner of the manor. He kept her hand in his
and told her about the new broom his father got him for his birthday - the new firebolt that
Hermione had invested in last summer - and how excited he was to be captaining next year.
She loved this version of him, the one that was far from Vince and Greg nasty looks and
glares, the one that didn’t have to hide from Ledbury and his friends. She loved him best
when he was wearing dark grey slacks and a white short-sleeved button up, carefree and real.
He dropped her duffle on the settee at the foot of her bed and she watched the entire thing
with hungry eyes. Her eyes followed the way his sleeve caught on his bicep when he
removed the strap off his shoulder, undoubtedly result of his Seeker training. It was unfair,
how every movement was stubbornly aristocratic, Hermione wondered if he had posture
classes among his many tutoring sessions during the summer, if they were responsible from
making Hermione salivate at the sight of his shoulder blades and his spine.
Draco turned, smirking and she knew at once that she had been caught. It was almost like,
with every restriction that had been imposed on them in the castle now gone, Hermione could
openly look and admire how ridiculously attractive he was.
And he was hers.
In reality, it was just three long steps, but from her pounding heart and his darkened eyes, it
felt like they were crossing the great hall. She tugged on his shirt and crashed their lips
together. He opened up immediately and she slipped her tongue inside, drawing a delicious
sound out of him.
It was like that:
They were alone.
They had a double bed.
They were safe.
Her emotions had gone through the wringer in the last twenty-four hours and she wanted to
control them, in whatever shape possible. If it was shaped in Draco Malfoy’s lips and torso,
she wouldn’t be the one complaining.
Merlin, his hands were everywhere: below her shoulder blades, his fingers running through
her spine, and then they were on her waist, squeezing her sides, moving to the front of her
body and meeting bare flesh on her stomach.
Kissing Draco was very much like catching snowflakes on her tongue, every single one of
them was different. He pushed her backwards towards her bed and without stopping their
kiss, they fell on the mattress, his body landing on top of hers.
He looked at her and Hermione wondered what he was seeing. Her swollen lips, most
probably, her wide hair, definitely. “You are delectable, Hermione Granger.” She smiled
shyly at him and he leaned down again to peck her lips, “There’s a bright fire crackling
merrily in the hearth of your eyes.”
“Draco,” she embarrassingly enough moaned and he smirked, hiding his amusement in her
throat, where he pressed dozens of kisses.
Her hands went to his hair, soft and silky against her fingers, differently from the rest of his
body, where he was all chiselled features and hard edges. She pulled his head by his hair and
the look he gave her was sufficiently damning all on its own. She latched on his jaw, running
her tongue her, willing it to cut her, he groaned and his entire body trembled on top of hers.
Merlin, he was hers. She kissed her way from his jaw to his throat, all the while her hands
found the hem of his shirt. Expertly, she got the buttons undone halfway to his chest before
he realised.
“Cunning of you Miss Slytherin.” He murmured on her ear before leaning back to finish her
job for her.
Draco Malfoy was currently straddling her, his shirt open and pale, unblemished skin in front
of her. Hermione sat up, meeting him up there. She leaned in for a kiss and he grinned, with a
laugh and a bit more strength than she expected, she pushed him down back on the mattress,
following him down. It wasn’t as flawlessly as she hoped, Hermione had to untangle their
legs before climbing on his lap, “Resourceful as well.” She said, placing both hands on his
exposed chest. She leaned down to kiss him one more time and ignored how the bulge on his
slacks made her heart thump unevenly in her chest.
“Are we feeling ambitious, too?” He asked against her lips, his hands resting dangerously on
her bum. It made her skin burn.
Hermione opened her mouth to reply, but she got interrupted by a loud crack and Dipsy’s
huge eyes were eye level with hers on the bed. Hermione jumped.
“Madam Malfoy aks Dipsy to stop any unbecoming behaviour from Master Draco and Miss
Hermione.” Dipsy told them and she felt her cheeks burning. Draco too, grew several shades
of pink from his chest to his neck. Hermione watched it with fascination.
“Go away Dipsy,” Draco groaned.
“Dipsy can’t.” The elf replied. Madam Malfoy asked Dipsy to make sure that Master and his
miss are always six feet apart.”
“That's quite ridiculous.” Hermione said with a frown, but got to her feet anyway, lest
Narcissa decided to appear in the room next and find her straddling her son.
Draco was sitting up as well and buttoning up his shirt, to Hermione’s immense sadness.
Dipsy only stopped hovering when they were both back on the ground standing the proper
distance apart.
He looked down and Hermione had to look away, “I will go deal with this,” he said and there
wasn’t a hint of embarrassment in his tone and honestly, Hermione could only feel cheated
that an elf had taken this from her. Didn’t Dipsy know how much time and effort Hermione
had dedicated to the house-elves’ cause? And this was how she got paid? Unacceptable. And
he turned to his elf, “Don’t be mistaken Dipsy, for I will properly court Hermione and I won’t
hear from you.”
Properly court Hermione.
Draco winked at her before leaving and Dipsy watched Hermione for a moment, making sure
that she wouldn’t simply run after Draco.
A few hours later, they were called for lunch, and they met in Narcissa’s morning room.
Hermione loved how the summer light shone through the windows there. Lucius wasn’t
present and Hermione knew better than to inquire. Narcissa was waiting for them with a
warm smile in her face, but her eyes did move from Draco to her carefully.
Draco simply kissed his mother on her cheek and sat down; Hermione didn’t give Narcissa a
kiss, just smiled politely before sitting down.
Conversation was light as they passed food, Narcissa asked Hermione about her exams and
what grades she expected to receive, she also told them about that year’s Yule Ball at the
Manor and how their presence had been missed even though she was certain they had had
much more fun in the castle.
Narcissa didn’t mention the last task, nor Voldemort’s return or Lucius’ presence at the
graveyard. Hermione didn’t mind, for she was going to talk to him herself.
After lunch, when Narcissa had excused herself and Draco and Hermione had found
themselves in the gazebo, she told him how it went with her parents and how Remus had
come to the rescue and taken her to his place, she told him that Sirius wasn’t speaking to
Remus and things were ugly between them, she also told him about Sirius’ misplaced anger.
“Do you think whatever he did was the thing he told us he lost a hundred and fifty points for?
Pure imbecility and outstanding cowardice?” Draco asked in the end.
Hermione shook her head, “No, Remus was laughing as well when he said it, and from the
way he spoke, it doesn’t sound like something he’d laugh now, even years later.”
“Merlin, do you think he somehow lost even more points for whatever he did?”
“I don’t know.” She replied, thinking on how a hundred and fifty points could be forgiven
and laughed about and whatever it was that Sirius did couldn’t.
They caught sight of Narcissa then, she was strolling through her garden, tending to her
flowers, a white peacock followed her. They watched her for a bit, she didn’t look at them
probably paying attention to the garden to mind the too. “Do you want to talk to her?” Draco
asked.
Hermione nodded. “I will meet you later, okay?” She said and he nodded. As she got up, she
kissed his cheek and then went after Narcissa.
“Aunt Cissy,” Hermione called.
“Yes, dear?” Narcissa looked up, her face warm and smile present, her gloved hands were a
bit dirty from tending to the flowers. Hermione always appreciated this more natural look on
the Malfoy matriarch.
“I—” She stopped. Suddenly, Hermione remembered the day she met Narcissa outside
Madame Malkins. When Narcissa had the exact same expression on her face.
She looked at Hermione like that when she noticed her parents were muggles. Knowing
Narcissa the way she knew now, there was no way Narcissa Malfoy wouldn’t have known
that the two adults behind her were Muggles.
She knew. Narcissa had recognised her from that very first moment.
“You knew,” Hermione said, her voice small, “that day in Diagonal Alley, you knew at once.”
Narcissa gave her the warmest smile she had ever seen. It lit her entire face, her eyes crinkled
and she looked like she’ was about to cry.
“Of course, I knew.” Narcissa replied, “How could I have not recognised my own
goddaughter?” Narcissa asked nonchalantly.
Or like she was about to say something very important to her.
Hermione inhaled. Her mind spinning.
“Why?” She asked, a bit dumbly.
“Well, your father chose me to be—”
“Why did you never tell me?” in normal situations, Hermione would never cut Narcissa off,
but Merlin, this was her secret. Remus has said Narcissa had the last of them, Hermione
didn’t expect this.
“I couldn’t possibly say it, my dear. You believed you were muggle-born. And then when my
cousin so graciously ran from Azkaban you believed you were James and Lily’s. How on
earth would that conversation make sense?” Her voice was something like she expected to
hear Narcissa speaking to a really young person.
Hermione looked at Narcissa, at her dark eyes. This woman who had helped her in her very
first day in the wizarding world.
‘It's good to be curious,’ Narcissa had said that day, ‘we still have so much to learn’ .
Hermione gave a small, dejected chuckle. “We still have so much to learn.” She repeated
Narcissa’s words. And in an extremely Malfoy fashion, Narcissa hadn’t lied after all.
Narcissa nodded, she knew what Hermione had referred to. “And now you’ve learned all that
there was to learn.”
“When you told me that you had known who I was for as long as Professor Snape had, you
didn’t mean since my first year, you meant since the day he received Lily’s letter.”
“I did.” She told Hermione, “And now, I think it’s time to confess that the first time you came
to the Manor wasn’t really the first time.”
“What?” She asked, her eyes surely were wide.

“You saw it during one of our Occlumency lessons." Narcissa told her, “I had to cut it short
because I knew you’d recognise it.”
Hermione thought back on her lessons, trying to remember what she had seen the day
Narcissa abruptly announced that they were done for the day.
A baby sleeping next to her on dark green sheets.
“He brought me here.” Hermione said, her voice barely louder than a whisper. “When he took
me from Godric’s Hollow, he brought me here.”
Narcissa nodded, she had a small smile, “We had to wait until your parents returned to the
hospital, you spent two days here, sleeping next to Draco on his crib. It was unfortunate luck
that Lucius had been busy with his affairs that he barely had time for his son. Or else, he’d
have found you when everyone was still looking.”
“Uncle didn’t know?” Hermione asked.
“No.” Narcissa confessed. “Severus and I told him shortly after you got sorted into
Slytherin.”
“You lied to him? All these years?”
“Remus is not the only one who had to choose between his significant other and his
godchild.” Narcissa told her and carefully removed her gloves so she could cup Hermione’s
face. “I told you once Hermione, that we would always reach for you, remember?” Hermione
nodded. “There was a time that I wasn’t sure he would. I needed to be sure before I could
confess to my husband.”
“He was at the graveyard.” It was Hermione’s only reply.
“Yes.” Narcissa agreed. “Just as Severus had to go back to the Dark Lord once he returned.
Lucius’ beliefs are not the same as they were, and again Hermione, true harm will never
come to you from him. Or to your brother.” Narcissa added, which took Hermione’s by
surprise. “But we all still have parts to play. Me, Lucius, your father.”
Hermione took in a deep breath. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that Narcissa would be
the first to actively call Professor Snape her father in front of her. Remus had danced around
the words, Draco had completely avoided speaking of him.
It was a surprise what came out of Hermione’s lips next, “Does he even like me?” She asked
and immediately felt her cheeks blushing. There was an overwhelming feeling of loss and
childishness in her chest.
How does one deal with the truth that your father is one of your teachers? She allowed the
words and the question form in her mind. Hermione forced the next one to take form: How
was she supposed to deal with the fact that her biological mother cheated on her husband and
lied to everyone? That the woman in front of her that took her in all these years ago did that
because she was in fact her godmother?
“Hermione” Narcissa said sternly. And it still impressed Hermione, even after all these years,
by how quickly Narcissa could change her emotions, “Severus went to impossible dangers to
keep you safe.” She said firmly, “He orchestrated a plan so perfect that no one would find
you. He lied to Dumbledore for fifteen years, hell, he’s lying still. He lied to his Lord. He is,
in this very moment, trying to prove to the Dark Lord that he didn’t have anything to do with
your disappearance. Don’t you ever question what he feels for you.” Narcissa finished
scolding and Hermione hang her head.
“How am I supposed to call him? What am I supposed to do?” She asked, surprised to learn
that she was willing to do something.
“That’s something that the two of you will find out.”
“I’m nervous.” She confessed.
“I understand. Severus is nervous too. He didn’t want you to find out this way. But Hermione
dear, I want you to know that, regardless of your feelings and how you will deal with this,
Severus has always, every single day for the past fifteen years, has seen you as his daughter
and loved you like one.”
Hermione nodded. “I’m not ready to talk to him yet.” She confessed, “I'm still angry.”
“I know.” Narcissa said and twirled one of Hermione’s curls in her finger.
“I want to talk to uncle Lucius, but then I want to return to Remus’ place. I want to spend my
summer with him.”
Something twisted in Narcissa's expression, but she said, “You can go to your godfather,
Merlin knows it’s time he takes his load,” with as much displeasure one could inflict in a
sentence.
Chapter End Notes
I know some (maybe a lot) of you were expecting some of Hermione and Severus and/or
Hermione and Harry to discuss their feelings or just to HAVE A CONVERSATION, but
this chapter was getting too big and I didn't want to cut their parts, so I have put their
conversation on the upcoming chapter!! I ask for a bit more patience!! it is cominggg
I hope you enjoyed it! Please let me know what you think in the comments!!
The title and the quote at the beginning belong to Memories by Conan Gray
I believe the next chapter will be around the 8th or 9th of October because next
Thursday is my birthday (!!!) and I'm flying out to the UK to spend the weekend over
there (I'm doing the HP locations in the Scottish Highlands and I'm insanely excited!!!)
as long as I'm here, no one can hurt you
Chapter Notes
Hello!!! Thank you all for the lovely comments and birthday wishes!! I had an
absolutely amazing time in the UK and I completely fell in love with Edinburgh and the
Scottish Highlands.
This chapter: Hermione and Lucius have a conversation, Hermione and Severus also
have a conversation.
I hope you enjoy!
The title and quote at the beginning belong to Billie Eilish's Everything I wanted
and it feels like yesterday was a year ago

but I don't wanna let anybody know
'cause everybody wants something from me now
and I don't wanna let them down
Chapter Forty-Two
It took her five days to talk to Lucius. He was barely at home, always coming and going at
odd hours of the day. Once, before Narcissa managed to close the door in her and Draco’s
faces, they caught a glimpse of a black eye and a split lip. Draco spoke to his father first, they
spoke for what felt like hours and Hermione waited in her room until Draco returned. Giddy,
cheeks red and ready to snog her senseless. Only to be stopped yet again by Dipsy’s
disapproving eyes.
In the end, it was he who called for her. It was early morning and she was still in her pyjama
pants when Tolby came for her.
The elf was agitated and didn’t want to wait for Hermione to change, so she quickly put on
her shoes and hoping that Lucius didn’t mind that much her insufficient attire, followed the
elf to Lucius’ office. The creature dragged her through the corridors by the pocket of her
sweater.
There were no traces of violence on his face when Hermione entered, whatever Voldemort
had done to him was long gone.
He did take a long look from her head to toe, completely displeased that she had entered his
office wearing light blue pyjama pants, an old sweater of Draco’s and her white new
balances.
“You called me.” She said, standing right behind the chair in front of his desk.
“I did.” He replied as he put some papers aside. Lucius Malfoy was always surrounded by
papers when he was in his office. Hermione wondered what he actually did at the Ministry or
if he just went there to try to pass racist laws. But Hermione was certain of one thing: not a
Knut went missing without Lucius knowing how it was spent. This was how Lucius spent his
free time - at least before Voldemort’s return -, Hermione had learned: poring over financial
statements and documents to either move funds, rescind money or invest into new
endeavours. With the amount of no-peeking charms on the papers that made them blurred to
her, she was certain that the majority of his business wasn’t reputable.
She hadn’t forgotten, of course, the last time she had been in this same room, about what he
told her, what he wanted her to know.
“And?”
He looked at her and Hermione expected to see his usual smirk, that he gave her every time
she was mouthy or seemed to not care that he was Lucius Malfoy. She didn’t. Instead, there
was this trace of melancholy in his face, something that made her falter, as she had never
associated such emotion with this man.
“You should sit.” He told her and Hermione, still unsettled by his expression, did as told.
“You know the truth now.”
She nodded. “Merlin knows how much you hate those.”
He smiled then, but it was almost like he couldn’t shake whatever had put this sombre cloud
around him. Maybe the traces of Voldemort’s violence were gone from his face but not from
inside of him.
“Still, I decided to take a page out of my wife’s book and give you a truth myself.”
She raised an eyebrow, mistrust making her on edge. “You know what I like to say when I
find myself having to explain the Malfoy family, uncle?”
Lucius shook his head and his smile was a bit warmer now, which only made him look more
upset if that was even possible. “No. I hope it’s something better than finding our fingerprints
all over the weapon.”
Hermione had to fight her own smile, so he did know what they said about him. “I like to
think it is. But well, now you were found at the crime scene, weren’t you?”
“That's still debatable.” He replied, “But tell me, Hermione, what do you have to say about
my family?”
“That you negotiate in many currencies, but never in truth.”
Something passed through his eyes and it still threw her off, how much like Draco’s, his eyes
were. How they wielded completely different powers in their faces. On Draco’s, she found
love, trust, friendship and acceptance.
Hermione still didn’t know what she found in Lucius’.
“Did you know that the name Malfoy comes from the old French that means ‘bad faith’?” He
asked her, "So you are right once more Hermione. And I do like this one better.”
“Give me your truth uncle,”
“The Dark Lord purposefully lied to your brother at the graveyard.” He told her. Hermione
inhaled deeply. She knew he had been there, he had first-hand knowledge of that night. “He
told him that Lily begged only to save you, to spare you because you were the blood of one
of his followers. But it was Severus who begged to save you. The Dark Lord chose his words
carefully, he kept Severus’ deceit to himself and decided to enrage the boy against you and
your mother.”
“But why?”
“Despite previously believing otherwise, I have found that the Dark Lord has one weakness.
And because he only has one weakness, he grows much more desperate to protect it than the
ones who have plenty. If one is paying attention, it’s easy to see. There’s no word that the
Dark Lord despises and belittles more than love. Four letters and he avoids it like the plague,
yet he threw it at Potter with derision many times. Now, why would that be Hermione?”
“Lily’s sacrifice protects him. Her love for him keeps him safe from Voldemort.” She replied
and noticed how he flinched at the name. “He’s trying to make Harry believe that she didn’t
love him?”
“Maybe.” Lucius conceded, “but I think he’s trying to get Potter to hate instead of love. His
anger at you has kept you from him, hasn’t it?” Lucius asked, his head slightly turned to the
side in question. “If you are not with him, you can’t protect him again, can you?”
Hermione frowned. Lucius Malfoy was a difficult person to understand on a normal day, but
this, this was too much even for her. “You are being uncharacteristically forthcoming.”
“Your brother faced the Dark Lord for the third time and he came unscathed once more. I’m
beginning to prefer the boy’s odds.” He said carefully and Hermione wouldn’t have believed
it if he hadn’t been right in front of her and she hadn’t been paying attention to every blink of
his eyes.
True harm will never come to you from him. Or to your brother. That was what Narcissa had
said.
Lucius’ beliefs are not the same as they were.
This is what she meant.
“You once told me Voldemort was going to make our world right.”
He narrowed his eyes at the name and she ignored him. “That's a hope that I still carry, but
the Malfoys wouldn’t have come this far if they hadn’t been willing to look both sides before
crossing.”
“You are crossing, then?”
“My dear,” he said and Hermione’s eyes widened marginally at the endearment, something
was incredibly off with him. Was this really Lucius? After the whole Barty Moody ordeal,
one could never be too sure. “That Thestral has parted a long time ago, but I found myself…
less committed to the cause. You, for example, will not find any murder attempts on your
brother from me this year.”
“Were there any last year?” She blurted, honestly curious.
He chuckled again, shook his head and his smile was quickly gone. “Isn't it enough knowing
that this is behind us now?”
Hermione snorted, “There is a wide gulf between inaction and murder, Uncle.” She told him
and she caught one of his fleeting looks of appraisal, fleeting, but it was there. “Another
man's evil does not make you good, you standing next to the man casting the spell doesn’t
make you innocent. Men have used the atrocities of their enemies to justify their own
throughout history.”
“I don’t look for innocence Hermione, I look for plausible deniability.” He told her. Lucius
sighed and for a moment Hermione thought he was going to send her away, having said his
piece and given her another headache. Talking with Lucius was as painful as her worst
Arithmancy equations. He watched her and studied her face and Hermione wondered what he
was looking for. “I believe I have detoured enough,” he said lastly, “I have to admit that I’ve
grown fond of our conversations and was hoarding another one for safekeeping.”
She furrowed her brows again, he sounded—Her chest ached suddenly. He sounded like he
missed her. That was what was off with him. He was missing her even though she was right
there.
Hermione grew wary at once. She eyed the piece of parchment he picked and pushed towards
her. “What is this?” She asked, not wanting to look.
“I have been informed of the recent development regarding your relationship with my son.”
He said and it knocked the air out of her. “And I’m afraid I can’t allow it.”
“What?” She blurted and finally, finally looked at the parchment now in her hands.
Merlin, how she wished she hadn’t.
There in bold letters and painstakingly beautiful calligraphy, as if mocking her: AMICABLE
AGREEMENT TO GO SEPARATE WAYS IN ORDER TO KEEP THE PURITY OF THE
MALFOY LINE
He had written clauses, at least a dozen of them, determining the approved distance between
them in public, the prohibition of any contact in privacy, how Hermione should avoid
partnership with Draco during class, or how she was to refrain from talking about any
involvement so far with third parties. It was insane, absolutely insane and definitely
something that Lucius Malfoy would do.
“You are not simply asking me to break up with him, you are asking me to withdraw
completely from him. We are friends. We’ve been friends for years.” Hermione said angrily,
she felt her eyes burning with unshed tears.
“I might have been a bit too tolerant, too loving to my wife and eager to please her and that
was my mistake.” He told her. Hermione wanted to shake him, wanted gone whatever this
version of him was. He was terrible.
“No.” She said, firmly. And he raised an eyebrow. Hermione knew Lucius wasn’t one to hear
no very often so she made sure to announce the two letters very clearly to make sure that he
understood the meaning.
“I believe you should finish reading before you say anything.”
Hermione looked down, not that anything written on that parchment would change her mind,
but because he looked amused, eager for her reaction.
Signing this agreement will allow for visits to the Manor and its grounds to continue in the
event of parties and other celebrations where the absence of the signer would be questioned.
However, effective leave from the Manor and its grounds will ensue upon the refusal to sign
and return to the property will be forfeited for as long as it remains so.
She read it three times and then raised her head to look at him. He knew. Lucius Malfoy
knew how much she loved the Manor. And he was taking it from her.
Draco or the Manor.
“You just threatened me with the one thing I love more than this house.” She said, her eyes
burning.
Lucius’ expression didn’t change, and it seemed impossible that this was the same man that
saved her two summers ago. That was called by the house’s magic to where she was because
she had called it home. Hell, it seemed impossible that he was the man she had started this
conversation with. “I thought you said you had no place here anymore.” He told her,
reminding her of the last conversation they had in this exact same place.
“I’m not signing this.” She repeated. “I don’t know what sorts of contracts you pure-bloods
have been signing to keep your inbreeding, and honestly I really don’t care.”
“That is actually my wife’s side of the family, to be honest.”
She completely ignored him and placed the parchment down in front of him. “There’s a lot of
things that are ugly about my life, I won’t let you turn this too.”
“No son of mine will marry a half-blood.” Lucius seethed.
Marry! Hermione wanted to laugh. They had barely begun dating. Draco had just said he’d
begin to court her properly.
“You said you find yourself less committed to the cause. This?” She waved the parchment,
“It screams commitment to me. You insist on following generational delusions of grandeur
and wizarding purity, rather than embracing the twentieth century and advancement of our
kind, muggle-born, half-blood, and pureblood alike. There’s nothing pure about you uncle,
nothing regal as you are subjugated by your Lord like a mere peasant.”
She dropped the insulting piece of parchment on his desk and got to her feet. Sitting down in
front of Lucius Malfoy never ended well.
He didn’t reply, just kept watching her with his piercing glacial eyes. Hermione felt suddenly
dizzy. Like someone had just squeezed her air supplies. “Your wife is my godmother,”
Hermione seethed, her vision blurred and she hated it because she was now seeing two
Lucius instead of one and that was even worse. “My father is your best friend, your son’s
godfather.” She hissed and he gave her a small smile, a fugitive from a previous conversation,
from a now-gone man. And Later, Hermione would realise that the first time she called
Severus Snape her father out loud was to spit at Lucius Malfoy’s face. Hermione felt
breathless and subtly held her hand to her ribs.
Lucius noticed, of course, and once more his smile was gone and in place was one made of
anything but kindness. “You are already feeling it then.” He said, leaning back on his chair.
“If you leave now, you might get to pack your things.”
Her eyes burned. She wanted to hex him. She wanted to hide under her big four-poster in
Draco’s wing of the manor. She wanted to grab Draco’s cheeks and kiss him in front of
Lucius.
Hermione stayed put. She felt the pull getting stronger and her nausea grew, Lucius was
smirking, clearly amused with her show of stubbornness.
He had known she wouldn’t accept it, that was why he had looked at her like he was saying
goodbye, but still, he did it anyway.
When she felt like she was going to be physically sick, she glared at him one last time, “I
hope you explain to your wife and son why I left so abruptly.”
She turned and Hermione felt the magic of the house pulling her, she had no control of her
feet and both times she fought it, she felt her body being violently tugged. Tired and dizzy
from the invisible tug of war, she left the Manor. Tears washed her face as she tried to
commit the portraits and the corridors to memory.
She passed the white peacocks and the iron gates and sunk to her knees, hugging her chest
and letting all her tears fall. Her light blue pyjama pants were dirtied from the muddy earth.
He had kicked her out of the house. He had her every holiday since her first year and he
threw her out. Hermione literally had spent more time in the manor than in her own house
since she began Hogwarts and now, she couldn’t go back. She also couldn’t go back to her
parent's home, because they had asked for some time to process everything and grieve.
She had nowhere else to go. Her trunk was still inside as was her wand. Hermione wondered
if she banged on the iron gates someone would take pity on her.
No.
She’d let Lucius explain. She’d let him tell them why she had left all her things behind.
Hermione got on her feet and put her hands in her pockets, immediately her fingers touched
something, and she felt the familiar tug of the portkey taking her away.
There were only trees around her and it was chilly despite being early July. She had no idea
where she was, where Lucius had sent her. Hermione hoped that it was somewhere close to a
place she knew, but after today’s events, she doubted.
How had he snuck a portkey? He hadn’t moved from his desk!
The elf.
Wandless, trunkless and without any means to find a contact, she walked to the nearest tree
and sat against the trunk.
Remus had taught her how to call on their connection the previous year and she set to do just
that. She had managed to do it barely a week ago with sheer despair, maybe she could do it
again with less panic and more concentration. Closing her eyes, she felt inside of herself, felt
for her magic and for where hers connected with his. Please, she begged, come find me.
She closed her eyes and rested her head against her knees. Please, she begged again, hot tears
spilling. I’m alone. She wasn’t tired, but she felt that all of her fight had left her the moment
she felt the Manor’s tug. Lucius had taken her home from her. She was twice homeless now.
It didn’t take long for Remus to find her. She heard the twigs and leaves on the ground first,
and then the cautious, worried call of her name. “Hermione?” She got to her feet, and he
jogged the remaining distance. “What happened? I thought you were at the Manor.”
He looked awful. The moon had barely passed and she knew he needed a few days to recover.
Merlin, she made him apparate to her when she knew he was still weak.
Her bottom lip wobbled, and she didn’t get two steps before he was wrapping his arms
around her. “He kicked me out.”
Remus pulled back, only enough to see her face, question and anger were clear in his
features. “Who?”
“Uncle Lucius.” She cried. “He kicked me out and sent me to the middle of nowhere with a
portkey he had his awful elf sneak inside my pocket. I don’t have anything with me, not even
my wand.”
Remus cursed and hugged her again, cradling her face against his chest. “I’ve got you, pup.”
He told her. “Let’s go home.” He said and it hurt because now it was the only home she had
left. Her parents’ house, kicked out. Malfoy Manor, kicked out. Remus pulled back and she
thought she’d see pity in his eyes, but instead, she saw only anger. “I’m side-Apparating
you.” He told her and she just nodded.
Severus' life had never been so chaotic. He shouldn’t have based his experience as a spy on a
handful of months fifteen years ago when the war was almost to its end.
Now he was being called back and forth like he was the mutual friend of a divorced couple
with an irreparable, toxic relationship. And one party was a bit maniacal and violent. The
other was just manipulative.
He was still limping from his last visit to the Nott Manor where he and Lucius left the Manor
in silence as if they hadn't lain sprawled on the floor side by side while Voldemort expressed
his distaste about Theodore Nott's elusiveness. Apparently, Adeodatus wasn’t performing and
had offered his son in his stead. Severus could only thank Nneka Current-Husband-Surname.
And now he was due to Grimmauld Place in ten minutes for a meeting.
Severus had yet to see Hermione, but he had had some news from her, all coming from
Remus' clearly judgemental one-liners.
Her parents kicked her out was the first one when he had been still at the castle.
I told her about Sirius. She knows he did something but not what came the second a few
hours after the first one. Whatever Remus was doing, he was being quick. And of course, he
hadn’t said what, since their 'almost killed-almost-got-killed’ relationship was a bit of a sour
topic.
But five days later came the third one, Lucius kicked her out of the Manor and Severus had
almost marched to the Manor to stick Lucius’ cane somewhere he’d have trouble pulling his
wand out.
Why had Lucius kicked her out? What had happened? Narcissa hadn't sent anything and
Severus couldn’t afford anymore to visit her.
Moments before he Apparated in London, a week after Hermione’s return from the Manor,
Remus’ fourth missive had arrived, Theo and Blaise are with me now. He’s shaken.
Okay, but which one? Severus sighed in exasperation, tired of Remus’ dramatics. He hoped
to find the man today and asked for a follow-up about every single one of his letters. And get
another show from him and Black.
He took a deep breath before entering Number 12. Upon arrival, he saw a red-haired head,
and it was enough to make his mood ten times worse. Thankfully, the owner was gone in a
blink, most likely as displeased with this summer encounter as he was.
Severus met a second red-haired person three steps in, but this time it was Molly Weasley,
who barely managed to school her expression at the sight of him. “Evening Severus,” she
greeted and he nodded in return, “Everyone is already in the dining room.”
Everybody, as he soon noted, meant Dumbledore, Arthur Weasley, Kingsley Shacklebolt,

Alastor Moody, Daedalus Diddle, Elias Doge, Remus and Black.
“Oh, Severus,” Albus said upon seeing him, “we were waiting for you.”
“Apologies Headmaster, I was held back.”
He sat down between Shacklebolt and Remus, the only ones he trusted not to make an
attempt on his life.
The Order meetings were usually the same, the members present rotated a bit. He knew the
oldest Weasley had officially joined, Andromeda’s daughter had been in the previous one,
and Minerva had been there as well, as some others from the first order. They usually started
with whoever was monitoring Harry - Diddle and Doge this week - and whether there had
been any change, then they moved to Arthur and Kingsley to go over the situation in the
Ministry - still denial, still silence -, then Remus talked about the werewolves he was meeting
with, then Sirius and Moody gave updates on tracking Mary McDonald - no updates from
them -, to finally get to Severus’ account.
He believed that the choice to keep him last was to allow for everyone’s food and drinks to
remain in their stomachs.
“He's obsessed with the Prophecy,” Severus told. “He wants to hear the rest of it. As we all
know, he failed again in his attempt to kill the boy, he thinks he’s missing something.”
Dumbledore hummed. And Moody barked, “we are putting people to guard the Department
of Mysteries.”
“Good." Dumbledore said, "We are to believe he's going to make an attempt to retrieve it."
“And if he does? He will go straight to Harry,” Sirius concluded. “We should bring him here,
he—”
“He's safe at his aunt’s house, Sirius,” Dumbledore spoke, his tone final.
Severus knew this was a recurring topic between them. He watched Remus next to him, the
way the wolf tensed and his entire body screamed anger. Even though he and Black were
clearly still at odds, he also wanted Harry away from his aunt.
They went over everything once more, adjusting details and more to appease Black,
Dumbledore announced that they should start thinking about the plan to extract Harry when
the time came.
Severus knew his daughter was the next topic of conversation once Dumbledore rested his
eyes on him and Remus. And right on cue, he addressed Remus, “How is she?”
Remus grew even tenser like he detested the fact that the Headmaster felt he was allowed to
talk about her. Severus observed, there was a possessive edge to Remus’ entire behaviour that
was new like something had significantly changed in his relationship with Hermione. He
looked at Black, who seemed to have reached the same conclusion. Black wouldn’t get
anywhere near peace with Remus if he kept his behaviour towards Hermione.
“She's back at my place,” Remus replied, emphasising ‘my place’ and Black scowled. Maybe
Remus’ next missive would be Sirius kicked me out. It sure fitted the pattern. “She went to
the Manor for a few days but quickly returned.”
Dumbledore hummed again, “Curious. I’d think that with how the Malfoys had been keeping
the girl under her roof these past years, they would prefer to have Hermione on sight now.”
He spoke and Severus was well-versed in Albus Dumbledore to know what he was implying.
Curiously, it was Black who replied, “My cousin truly loves the girl.” He said, “She wouldn’t
do anything to harm her.”
No mention of the Occlumency lessons that took place last summer. They were on the same
page in at least one thing: There were things that Dumbledore didn’t need to know.
“Well, whatever be it Narcissa’s feelings, we have to account for Lucius’.” Dumbledore

continued.
“Yeah,” Remus snorted and glared at Severus. He frowned. What failure as a father had he
committed now? “About that. Hermione came back because Lucius kicked her out.” Remus
explained, “from what Hermione told me, she felt like she couldn’t breathe inside the house
anymore like something was tugging her and forcing her to leave.”
“The bastard used the disinheritance spell on her.” Black snarled.
Severus remained quiet, but Remus turned to his boyfriend - former? - with an expression
that was easily translated to ‘you care?’.
Arthur Weasley frowned. “Whether was his intention or not,” the man began, “he just made
her safer.”
“What?” Remus asked, his anger almost tangible, “How kicking a fifteen-year-old out in
pyjamas and without her wand or trunk, plus having his elf sneak a portkey inside her pocket
that sent her to fucking Gisburn Forest in Lancashire is making her safer?”
Well, Severus should have stuck that cane up Lucius’ ass.
“Whatever his methods…” A mutual scoff from Remus and Black. “Hermione now can’t
return to the Manor, therefore the Malfoys can’t be used to lure the girl to Voldemort. If she
can’t come back there, she can’t find harm in there.” Arthur concluded.
“Black sitting right there should tell you that the spell isn’t irreversible,” Severus spoke.
“I’m the last Black alive.” He said and before Severus could argue that there were still a few
Black family members around, he added, “from the direct line. The house had no choice but
to accept me back. It had been heirless for far too long, it was losing its magic.” He explained
and truth to be told, it was the most amount of words he had spoken to Severus since the day
they met. “But they didn’t use the spell on me, I ran. And Hermione is not a Malfoy heir, so it
probably wasn’t even the same spell but—” he paused and his face grew uncomfortable. He
continued speaking looking at Arthur, “she must have felt the Manor was her home and he
used it to take it from her.”
They fell quiet after that. It was doubtful that Lucius had kicked her out to keep her safe,
maybe if it had come from Narcissa, but then she’d tell him about it. It was most likely that
Lucius wanted her gone so she wouldn’t incriminate the family any longer. Lucius did have
Hermione over countless times, there had been hundreds of chances for him to finish her off
in name of Voldemort in these past few years. Severus’ daughter or not, the common belief
was that the Missing Sister had something to do with Voldemort’s fall. Any reasonable
follower would try something, especially when she was less protected than the boy, especially
when she kept coming over for Christmas.
“Severus,” Dumbledore called after a moment, “Find out why Lucius sent her away. We
might learn something from that.” He nodded. The headmaster returned his attention to
Remus, “is there something else?”
“The Nott boy and the Zabini boy are also with me,” he said and even Black in his anger
couldn’t keep the curiosity at bay.
“Nott?” Moody asked with a raised eyebrow, “isn’t Adeodatus Voldemort’s most ruthless
follower?”
“Yes, the father,” Remus replied curtly. He was collecting strays left and right. “The boy is
Hermione’s best friend.” And because Remus Lupin was a brave man, he continued looking
straight at Black, “He’d rather die than turn against her. He actually came quite close. Theo
told me that he and Blaise were in Florence when the Carrow twins appeared, they were after
him. He doesn’t know what they wanted.”
“Adeodatus offered the boy to join the Death Eaters,” Severus said and he felt a sudden sharp
pain in his leg, a reminder of how he came to this information. “He is getting old for
skirmishes, Voldemort is keeping him for interrogation. Adeodatus suggested that the boy
took his place, but he doesn’t have him anymore. The Nott boy went from Hogwarts straight
to Florence with the Zabini boy. I guess he found out about that and sent the Carrows.”
Remus swore under his breath and Black looked pale. Regulus. Regulus had been sixteen.
“Is the boy safe now?” Shacklebolt asked. He had been a Slytherin too, the Auror was weak
for those Slytherin's sob stories.
“Yes,” Remus replied. “I had given him a portkey at the end of the year, in case he wanted to
spend the summer with me, they used it to escape them.”
“Good.”
Dumbledore remained quiet, he didn’t seem too bothered about Nott’s story. It didn’t affect
the war effort, so it was automatically disregarded.
They ended the meeting shortly after that, just after Dumbledore insisted yet again that Black
put all of his efforts into finding Mary.
And not into arguing about Harry’s presence in Grimmauld Place.
Or into arguing with Remus about Hermione.
Even if Black did find Mary, he wouldn’t get anything from her. She had left well before the
Potters' death.
Severus was the only one in the kitchen, he was waiting for everyone else to either leave or
vacate the corridor so he could go home without being stopped.
“You have to talk to her.” He heard from the doorway and sighed.
“I told you that I’m going to wait for her.”
“And I agreed. But that was then. Now you need to be the one to approach her. I can’t be
everything that she has.” Remus spoke.
Severus whirled around, “I can’t be anything for her.” He said and Remus stalked towards
him.
He doesn’t scare me anymore.
I’m not afraid of him anymore.
“You have to.” Remus hissed. “You are her father and she knows that. Severus, she accepts
it.” It was like he had been slapped. Those words. How many years had he spent hoping that
he’d hear them? Before he decided that he’d never get it? “It's been a week and neither Draco
nor Narcissa has written, her things were dropped by the door by an elf. I don’t know what
happened at the Manor, there has to be a reason why Narcissa hasn’t contacted me, Narcissa
is her godmother, for fucks sake!”
“Good to know that the lies keep coming.” They heard and both turned to see Black there. He
was all rage and betrayal.
Merlin.
“Oh fuck,” Remus muttered lowly and Severus could relate. He faced Black and Severus
watched how the man’s entire demeanour changed quickly, how he braced and prepared
himself. “You do remember that you blasted our dining chairs out of the window and left
before I could finish telling you everything,” Remus spoke and Black bared his teeth, like the
dog he was. “So knock off the pissy attitude and we can continue that conversation.”
Black scoffed. “Get off the fucking high horse Remus, you’ve been scheming with him and
my cousin over our best friend and you think you can turn this shit on me?”
Severus wanted to leave. Between being actually tortured by Voldemort and this torture in the
shape of Remus and Black breaking up, he quickly found that he’d pick Voldemort’s. Instead,
he just cast a silencing and privacy spell around the kitchen.
He had to give at least that to Black. Remus had told him that Severus had actually known
everything, despite what he said to Dumbledore. Remus had argued that they could still use
Black’s mistrust towards Dumbledore to keep him from completely ruining their plan and he
had been right. Those two were still fighting and clearly angry, but Black had kept quiet. To
Dumbledore, the ones responsible for Hermione’s disappearance were Remus and Mary.
And that had to mean something. Black was angry and hurt, yes, he had been rude and
ridiculous to Hermione, yes, but still, he was keeping quiet.
“I chose Narcissa to be her godmother,” Severus said, keeping Remus from lashing that
tongue of his. “I had helped Narcissa during her pregnancy and the Malfoys had given me
Draco months prior. I knew at once that I’d need more help when Lily’s letter came. You
know what’s inside the Black Grimoire.”
Black scowled because he knew. The Black family was known for their blood rituals and
blood magic. No family liked more spilt blood than the Blacks.
“What about Lucius?” Black asked. His tone had changed and Severus knew what it meant:
he still cared for Hermione, probably still loved her. Theodore’s words came to mind,
wisdom from a fifteen-year-old boy whose knowledge of love began and ended with
Hermione.
She’s going to forgive Remus for his lies because she loves him.
And she loved Sirius Black too, if Black apologised, he’d get her back.
Severus was the only one who still didn’t know where he was headed with his daughter.
“Narcissa and I told him about Hermione after she got sorted in Slytherin. Narcissa knew she
could have the girl closer then and we needed Lucius to not be his usual nasty self.” Severus
replied and shook his head slightly, “Hermione’s relationship with Lucius is complicated. She
calls him uncle and—” A shiver ran through him, “I know he cares, whatever shape that turns
out to be with him. Maybe Arthur is right, maybe that was Lucius’ sick way to keep her from
being brought to the Manor, maybe is something completely different.”
“Lucius has always been slippery,” Remus spoke, “and we will never know where we stand
with him, but it has always been Narcissa behind the family's decisions. Narcissa won’t allow
harm to come to Hermione and Harry. Therefore we can assume that Lucius will follow.”
“In whatever shape that turns out to be,” Black repeated Severus’ words.
It was the first time since the events of the third task that Severus saw Black actually
listening to Remus.
Remus nodded and turned to Severus, “I have to go. I have three pretty upset underage
wizards back home.” He paused and still not looking at Black, added, "You have to talk to
her. And Theo might need a potion or two, so you can’t really hide this time.”
“I'm not hiding.”
Remus was turning already, “And you know where to find me if you decide to take the rabid
shot.”
Severus snorted and Black was too stunned to get a quick retort in time. But since Severus
was within reach, Black turned to him. “You keep taking everything.”
And he knew what Black meant.
Lily.
Regulus.
Hermione.
Remus.
What was with the universe that decided Severus Snape and Sirius Black would have these
many people in common that made them unable to escape one another?
“Only because you break everything you touch.”
And he should have expected of course, what happened after that.
It took Severus three days to find himself in front of Remus’ door. He was nervous and
Theodore’s last words to him kept playing in his head. He had one chance.
The door opened before he got the courage to knock on it and there she stood: her hair in
disarray and an outfit that clearly had Princess Diana as inspiration.
“What happened to your face?” Was the first thing she asked.
Severus refrained from scowling because the movement actually hurt. Sirius Black had
always been well-versed in the art of throwing punches, which was surprising coming from a
boy raised in French aristocracy.
“He still got his left, then.” Came from behind Hermione and this time he did scowl. The last
thing he needed was for Lupin to make fun of him.
“What?” Hermione asked and looked between them, they still had to allow him inside.
“Sirius punched you?”
“What!” Came from inside the living room to his growing mortification. “For real? No way
he’s still alive!” He heard two pairs of feet hushing to the door, eager to see it as well.
Severus would have to start the year in the negative with the Slytherins if those two decided
to make a single comment.
Hermione pushed Remus to the side, enough to close the door behind her and keep Nott and
Zabini from witnessing his humiliation.
It was silent on their side of the door, while Remus ushered the boys somewhere else with the
promise of ‘you will get to see it later’.
“Do you want to go for a walk with me?” He asked.
She looked down at herself and he saw her wiggling her toes underneath her socks. “Just a
second, Accio shoes!”
“Ouch Hermione!” He heard Zabini hiss in pain from probably getting hit in the head with a
shoe. She chuckled and he savoured the sound. Even after everything that had happened, she
still could find small delights. She fumbled to catch them when they soared through the open
window. She would never play Quidditch, that was for sure.
“You can summon things straight to your hand,” he told her as she put her shoes on,
desperate to make the air less awkward around them. “So they won’t fly to you from
wherever they are, it just requires a bit more intent.”
“Oh!” She said after she was done, “I will try it later.”
He nodded and motioned her to follow him. They walked in silence for a few minutes and he
knew he wasn't the only one who was nervous. It was a good thing that Remus lived in a
cottage far from other houses and that he had the creek and the trees around, so at least they
could use the excuse of watching the scenery for a bit.
When Severus was sure that neither inhabitant of that house could see them from the
windows around the house, he spoke. “I'm sorry for the past few weeks. They haven't been
fair to you.”
“No,” Hermione replied. “But some things have been better than others.”
“I know I said that I was going to wait for you, but Lupin wanted me to speak to you.”
“He told me that you might come. It’s okay.” She said, “I talked to everyone else—” a huff,
“everyone that knew, that is.”
Which he knew meant she hadn’t spoken to her brother or Black.
Walking gave them a distraction, Hermione kept kicking pebbles while Severus chose some
to throw at the creek next to them and watch them bounce. “What do you still want to
know?”
“Are you really going to let me ask questions?” She asked and he gave a small chuckle.
“Yes,” he replied, “everything you want to know is yours to have.”
Hermione didn’t hesitate.
“Who’s Mary?” She asked.
“It was one of Lily’s best friends. Mary McDonald. She was muggle-born like her.”
“Why wasn’t she involved in what you all did?”
“Because she left before everything happened. A little after Marlene McKinnon's and Dorcas
Meadowes’ deaths. They were all friends, but Dorcas was in Slytherin with me.”
“And why blame her?”
“Because no one knows where she is, in fact, we don’t even know if she’s alive or not. What
we did, wasn’t a one-man’s job and it leaves Dumbledore busy looking elsewhere.”
“Why was it so important to keep it from Dumbledore?” She asked and he didn’t comment
that she was the one picking pebbles and giving them to him to throw.
It was nice. Maybe it was the only thing he could get from her. Small, unshaped rocks.
“It wasn’t that at first.” He replied, “I wanted to honour her wish, after— what I had done. It
was a safety plan, I didn’t want Lily to die, I didn’t want to hide you, but when Voldemort
attacked and I got there—” this time the pebble sank immediately, “It was clear something
had happened, the two of you were alive and I knew at once he had struck Harry, for he had
the scar on his forehead and it was bleeding all over his face. The Dark Mark was quiet and
getting lighter by the minute. He wasn’t dead, but he was gone. So I grabbed you.”
“You left Harry behind.”
“Yes. I had arrived only moments before Black, I was still in the room when I heard him
wailing downstairs over James’ body. I grabbed you and took you to Narcissa.”
“Why did you choose Narcissa?” She asked and Severus didn’t mention the use of the name
instead of ‘aunt Cissy’.
“Narcissa had many difficulties before getting pregnant with Draco. She had come to me for
help in Potions a few months prior. When Lily’s letter came, she was four months along and
she had never gotten that far before. She had trusted me with her son, I knew I could trust her
with mine.”
“And you chose her to be my godmother like she chose you to be Draco’s godfather.”
“Yes.” He nodded, “she finally told you that.”

Hermione nodded and he watched her expression. She was hurt by Narcissa, that was clear.
Whatever had taken place in the Manor with Lucius, and Narcissa’s silence was probably
more upsetting than her brother’s silent treatment. After all, she had been on the receiving
end of that before.
“And after?” She asked instead, “Once Voldemort was gone and everyone was looking for
me, why didn't you say anything to Dumbledore?”
Severus replied, “After Black was sent to Azkaban, Dumbledore sent Harry to stay with his
aunt.” He chuckled then, “Tuney hated me more than she hated James Potter, she would
never accept you.”
“You knew Harry’s aunt too?” She asked and he didn’t correct her that Petunia was her aunt
as well.
He nodded. “We were sort of neighbours, the Evans lived in the nice part of the city above
the river, while I lived with my parents in what Tuney liked to call ‘a dirty, rubbish-strewn
forgotten land.’”
“She has never been nice then,”
“No. She was hostile and hated magic, most of the time she was actually cruel to her sister. I
don’t think Petunia learned my name, as she only referred to me as ‘that awful boy’.”
“Am I stupid for still getting angry that he has to return to her house every summer even
though the letters I've sent so far have been ignored?”
“No, Hermione. It only means that you have a good heart. You are very similar to Lily in this
area, she too knew how to be angry and how to forgive, but she also knew when enough was
enough.”
“You don’t call her my mother.” She commented, almost offhandedly, but he knew it was an
honest question.
“You have someone to fill that title, and it’s not Lily.” He said, just like you have someone to
fill the father title, and it’s not me.
Hermione leaned down to grab another rock and handed it to him, “There may be space for
both of them.” She replied softly and when he looked at her, she didn’t look away. There may
be space for you. He gave her a small nod and refused to occlude the emotion that threatened
to overcome him. It was his daughter. She knew now. He would feel it, he would feel it all.
When he threw that rock, it bounced the longest.
“But the main reason why I didn’t want Dumbledore to know is that he believes something
happened that night at Godric’s Hollow. He thinks there’s a reason beyond Lily’s sacrifice
that made Voldemort unable to kill Harry.” He told her. Severus still didn't know what exactly
was going on in the headmaster’s mind, what made his eyes twinkle when he retold the
events of the graveyard to Severus or when he listened to Harry’s dreams. But he knew there
was something, the same something that made Narcissa wary and made her bring up Regulus.
What did he know? How was he really killed? No one ever found his body. He sighed, these
were questions he wasn’t getting the answer to that day, so he continued, "He has many
theories and not all of them are good. I didn’t want him using you as some kind of paw to
find out what happened.”
“Like he’s been doing with Harry.” She concluded, Severus didn’t need to nod, Hermione
knew she was right.
They fell into silence and Severus decided to circle back, to give her the excuse to go back
inside if she wished.
She had her hands in her pockets as if she felt silly now that they weren’t picking rocks
anymore. Severus could understand. He wasn’t a man of carelessness that allowed for
pockets, he preferred to keep them locked behind his back. Narcissa said was his self-
punishment pose. Narcissa read too many psychological books.
They could see the house again and he had already turned to go towards it when Hermione
stopped. “There’s a bench over there.” She said, pointing to a bench that was almost hidden
by the tall grass. "Would you mind telling me about me—” she stopped in embarrassment, for
her reddened checks were enough clue, “not that of course, but before? Remus told my
parents that you were the one who overheard the prophecy.”
Of course, the wolf told her about that. Not that Sirius Black had told him about how to get
through the Whomping Willow or how Remus had almost killed him as a wolf and James
fucking Potter was the one to save him.
Something must have crossed his face, something incredibly obvious because Hermione
rapidly added, “What is done, is done. You have worked hard on your penance, you won’t get
condemnation from me.”
Merlin this girl. This absolute gem of a girl. How could she be his? How could Lily have so
much compassion that she gave both her children absurd amounts of it? How could he be
deserving of her when he was made of mistakes, regrets and every fucking possible shade of
grey in the colour wheel?
“Hermione…” His voice was unrecognisable to his own ears. Voldemort was so immensely
wrong in many things, from his genocidal approaches to racist views, but Merlin, wasn’t the
madman on something with his spiel about love being a weakness? Children… One own’s
child… What were them but a weakness? But a powerful double-edged sword? Severus had
never been more open, more vulnerable or closer to surrender but for her. Severus considered
himself a practical man, one with few desires and even fewer possessions, he knew what was
right and wrong, what should be done and never hesitated to do what had to be done, but for
her… Loving her was to stay his hand, it was a downfall that he’d willingly jump. “Of
course,” he said, taking the jump.
And Severus did. He told about how he met Lily and how he befriended her, he told her about
their years at Hogwarts, the choices he made and the way he acted. Lily had always been
such a deep-kept secret that to get it past his lips he felt like he had cast a Sectumsempra on
himself. Severus told her all the ugly parts of himself, about how he knew Lily’s intention
that night that resulted in Hermione, how he took it anyway. “You shifted my entire life.” He
said, “I don’t think the envelope had reached the floor before I Apparated at Narcissa's. There
wasn’t a moment of hesitation when it came to you. From the moment I knew, everything I
did was to keep you safe.”
He didn’t tell her how happy and worried he had been when she became a Slytherin, how he
thought his plan was going to fail, or how much he dreaded teaching her before that first class
and how hard every single day for the past four years had been, that to be close to her without
acting like her father was as much punishment as to lay on his own body and feel a hundred
knives on his body burning him under Voldemort’s wand.
Severus kept those things because those were things that a father tells a daughter and he knew
Hermione wasn’t asking for those, he knew she was strong but even so, she could be
overwhelmed. He had one chance. If he gave too much now, he'd never be able to give
anything else. So Severus held back from saying how he almost gave everything away
because she had been put in danger or how year after year she came close to death and he had
to stand on the side, let other people take responsibility for her care.
Hermione wasn’t looking at him while he spoke, whether was it in comfort to him or for her,
he didn’t know, but she did look at him when she spoke, “I’m really thankful for you telling
me everything. I—” Hermione hesitated for a second, “From the moment you said that you
didn’t know in that office, I knew you were lying.” She gave a small, depreciative chuckle,
"The first thing that crossed my mind was that the Malfoys’ behaviour finally made sense.
Nothing else, just that. Because I realised that I finally had the answer to the one question I
hadn’t been able to work out since getting to Hogwarts. Because it explained the Malfoy’s
behaviour towards me since when I was still a muggle-born to the world.” Hermione stopped
again, this time to shrug, "The next was that you didn’t want to be my father. Because I
thought: why did he let me believe I was James Potter's daughter when he knew the truth?
My only answer was that you didn’t want me.”
“I’ve always been nothing but proud of you.” He replied at once and it cut, like thorns in a
rose. It was beautiful, to be able to finally say that. To tell his daughter how proud he made
her, but it cut all the same, for it was not the deserving sort of pride that Mr Granger had for
his daughter. “But I admit that I had moments where I wavered, where I considered
remaining in the shadows of your life if it meant that you were happy.”
“Why?” She whispered.
"Because you were happy. Being his sister came as naturally to you as magic does. It’s your
birthright. Lupin and Black, they are your birthright too, I knew what I would take from you.
I didn’t want to disappoint you. I didn’t think you’d like the truth.” He looked away from her
then, “I thought you deserved to be Lily’s and James’ child and not some—”
“Don’t say this.” She cut him off and when he turned again, her expression was clear that she
was expecting him to reduce a few house points. When she seemed certain that he wouldn’t
say anything, she continued, “It’s hard yes, but not because it’s you, it just is. At least now, I
can look back and see that you’ve always been there, in a way. I think I’d probably take it
worse if it had been anyone else."
“Still, I’m sorry. It’s my fault that your life is—complicated now.”
“It’s always been complicated,” she laughed, but it wasn’t from true amusement. It was bitter.
Heavy. Complicated. “I was the Slytherin muggle-born that had Harry Potter as best friend
and then I turned out to be actually Harry Potter’s Missing Sister. At least I’m still his sister,”
she scoffed, “if he ever forgives me.”
“He's not angry at you.”
“Harry’s not angry at me, Sirius is not angry at me. It does look like they are from where I’m
standing.”
“Black is an adult and I won’t excuse his behaviour, but I hope you get to talk to your bother.
I don’t appreciate his behaviour now or think you should forgive him, but that’s me and I
know that’s not you.”
Hermione nodded. “May I ask something else?”
“Yes.”
“What did Sirius Black do to you?”
And Severus Snape was not Remus Lupin, he had no desire - hidden under anger as it was in
Remus’ case - to salvage Black’s relationship with the girl, so he told her. And because it was
his story to tell, he even added how Dumbledore made him, broken and traumatised, swear
never to tell.
They stayed for almost another hour outside, and they only moved to return to the house
when the summer mosquitos became unbearable and Hermione started to constantly slap her
legs to kill them before they made a feast. Severus didn’t want to leave, terrified that
whatever had settled over them would be gone the moment he left. He was well aware of how
immeasurably precious this truce between them was.
She stopped at the door with her hand on the doorknob, “Can I call you Severus? At least
outside the castle, I—” she gulped, “until I can call you something else.”
His eyes widened and his entire body locked up, almost as if she had non-verbally petrified
him. Pathetically, he only managed to nod.
“Remus wants you to see Theo, I’m going up. Thank you, Prof—Severus.”
Chapter End Notes

IT'S NOT ON PURPOSE I SWEAR HARRY AND HERMIONE WILL TALK IN THE
NEXT CHAPTER but the chapters get too big and I have to let some things for the next
one.
There's a Hermione quote when she's talking with Lucius that is paraphrased from
Netflix's Daredevil and I don't know about all of you but I'm a bit obsessed with HOTD
so there's also a quote in there during Severus' POV that I paraphrased Lord Lary (of all
people).
If any of you want to see the beauty of Scotland (and me dressed as a Slytherin student)
you can check out the pictures I uploaded on my Instagram, it's camilajvnkst
Let me know in the comments what you think, I really appreciate all the feedback
because it has to be so lonely, to be the only one who's holy
Chapter Notes
Hello! Please pay attention that this is a DOUBLE UPDATE and this is the FIRST
CHAPTER of the day (so before you bite my head off) there's another one coming right
after this!!!
Again, thank you for the comments in the last chapter!! I really appreciate them and read
them all!
I hope you enjoy it!
next time you point a finger

I might have to bend it back
Or break it, break it off
Next time you point a finger
I’ll point you to the mirror
Chapter Forty-Three
Severus apparated at the Manor, the black gates opened for him and he wondered if
Hermione had made it that far before the portkey sent her away. A lovely mood set upon him
at the thought and he decided that he wasn’t willing to suffer through a conversation with the
man.
However, he spotted Lucius at the end of the long driveway, where he stood surrounded by
his peacocks. If Severus were an honest man, he’d admit that it took him a dozen of steps
before noticing Lucius among the white creatures. He blamed the hair.
“Where's your wife?” Severus asked when he reached the man.
Lucius smiled as he kept stroking the neck of one of the animals. “I was wondering how long
it would take for you to come.”
“Sorry to disappoint, but I’m not here to talk to you.” Severus snarled.
Lucius chuckled, “Oh, come on Severus, we both know why you are here. You are such a
girl-dad after all.”
He knew his expression had turned murderous because Lucius grew even more amused, “you
lost the right to speak of my daughter the moment you decided to use that vile spell on her.”
Another chuckle, “My, my, a lot of my’s around. My daughter, my father. Is it a Snape trait to
be possessive?” He asked.
My father. Hermione had spoken the words to refer to him and it had been to Lucius Bloody
Malfoy. Who proceeded to kick her out.
“Lucius, since I’m not homicidal enough to have this conversation with you, please direct me
towards your wife so I can learn why her godfather had to pick her up at the Gisburn forest
after a conversation with you.”
“Oh, was it there where she went?”
Severus turned. He was almost homicidal enough. But he wouldn’t lose his position by
killing Lucius Malfoy, so he resumed his walk. He’d look for Narcissa himself in every room
if it was necessary.
“She's in her Morning Room!” Lucius called with laughter, “Beware of the flying plates. She
was breaking china the last time I spoke to her.”
And wasn’t that the sanest thing a person could do after a conversation with Lucius Malfoy?
Just like Lucius had said, Narcissa was indeed in her Morning Room. But she wasn’t
breaking china, she was making mosaics with the now broken china.
“Narcissa,” he greeted and carefully stepped around all the many shards and pieces of what
had been plates, teacups and bowls.
“Severus, you took your time.” She said, mirroring the words of her husband. A love match
indeed.
“I was expecting to hear from you after I learned what your husband did.”
“Imagine that! Us having our expectations met when it comes to Lucius.” She replied without
looking up from her creation. At least now he knew that Narcissa hadn’t been involved in the
whole thing.
“What are you doing Narcissa?”
“Since my dear husband decided to destroy five years of dearly coveted relationship with my
goddaughter, I’ve decided to destroy the porcelain he gave me for our 5th anniversary.” She
replied, “I'm now making a mosaic to put on the table in the gazebo I’m going to have built in
the front garden.”
Severus was quite aware that the front garden was where the peacocks stayed.
“What happened, Cissy?”
“He went behind our backs. Draco asked for permission to properly court her and despite
telling his son that he approved, he decided to present Hermione with a contract that forced
her to end whatever sort of relationship she has with Draco or be expelled from the Manor.
And since I had to drop her things at Lupin’s you know what she chose.”
He got whiplash by the word courting but quickly recovered. “And why have you and Draco
refrained from telling her that?”
“Draco doesn’t know. Lucius told him that Hermione refused the courting and left. I’m to
keep it from him as well.” Narcissa explained and when the piece she wanted wouldn’t fit the
space, she simply threw it against the wall in front of her. Severus watched the many rips and
cuts on the wallpaper.
Nervous hands. Or more like furious hands.
“Since when do you keep to what Lucius says?”
Narcissa sighed and finally deemed it worth looking at him. Severus wasn’t expecting what
he saw. Narcissa had always been composed and never portrayed an image that was anything
less than perfect, but her dark eyes were bloodshot and the frown on her forehead and the
wrinkles around her eyes were signs of nights poorly slept. She was even without her
earrings. “Once Draco returns to Hogwarts, the Dark Lord will use the Manor as his base.
He’s planning to have guests over soon and finds here to be an appropriate place. Familiar,
for some.”
Severus felt his entire body cooling and watched the shy stream of sunlight coming from the
window, almost as if it knew that soon there would be no more light inside the Manor. He
thought he heard the echo of laughter like he used to hear in past summers, the prattle of a
girl who devoured books and the incessant flow of questions that always followed her.
Instead, it was silent. Narcissa seemed as uncomfortable with the silence as he did.
She had resumed her attention to the mosaic, but only to put it aside. Severus had heard
whispers of Voldemort’s next move, nothing coming from the man because Severus was still
in dangerous waters, but to have confirmation that Voldemort planned a breakout from
Azkaban… And that they would stay at the Manor… Severus felt like throwing china as well.
“Why not tell her?” He asked instead.
“Don't you know your own daughter, Severus? Tell me, how successful were they in
pretending to not be dating the last term? Do you know how many times I had to send an elf
to separate them in the few days she was over? They think they are invincible. The angrier
she is at us, the safer we keep them.”
“How's Draco?”
“Brooding. Sulking around. I caught him burning his signed Bulgarian quidditch shirt the
other day, I’m certain he believes she went to spend the summer with Viktor Krum.”
“You are going to leave me with a nightmare.” He replied, “Theodore Nott and the Zabini
boy are also at Lupin’s. They escaped the Carrows a couple of weeks ago. If word goes
around that he was invited to receive the mark but ran away, his life will be hell in the
dungeons.”
“It's probably going around as we speak, I know that both Thadeus’ and Nicodemus’ boys
know because I had tea with their mothers the other day.”
Severus felt a headache coming. Dumbledore had implied that the Ministry wanted to have a
show of force and was planning on being more present in Hogwarts, with Diggory’s death
and the entire Death-Eather-On-The-Payroll thing with Barty. And from Arthur’s reports, it
was growing by the day the number of ministry employees who were easily swayed to
Voldemort’s side.
He had to spy for Voldemort, he had to spy for Dumbledore, he had to keep an eye on his
daughter that was now more vulnerable than ever, and he had to keep an eye on her brother
who was most definitely wallowing in anger and depression by his forced isolation, he had to
keep an eye on Theodore Nott and the rest of the Slytherins so they didn’t turn among
themselves in the dungeons. Severus Snape was a very gifted man but he didn’t have that
many eyes.
“Narcissa, I can’t lie to her anymore.”
She whirled and for a moment, as quick as a blink, he saw her anger, fleeting, like every
emotion displayed by those who carried the Malfoy name, “Despite his methods, Lucius put
himself at quite a risk by being so vicious with her. I assure you, Severus, our Lord would
like nothing more to greet your daughter in my foyer would she come round for Christmas.
My sister would be delighted to meet her too. Lucius took that from him and if you decide to
grow a moral compass now and endanger my son instead, I will aim this china somewhere
else.”
“I wouldn’t put Draco in danger, Narcissa. He is my godson.”
“They are children Severus, Merlin knows how much they carry already. This is our mistakes
falling upon them, it’s our weight to bear. They can hate us later because they will be alive to
do so.” She said and he nodded curtly. “But if you have to tell her something, tell her to
remember what I’ve always told her: no true harm and we will always reach.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“She will know,” Narcissa said. “And Severus, Lucius tells me that the hour grows cold."
He nodded again and when Narcissa returned to her mosaic, he made his leave.
...
Severus had another test to his patience at the end of that week. Another Order Meeting.
Another painstakingly long hour in the presence of Sirius Black.
They were drawing nearer to the boy’s birthday. Fifteen. Two more years until the blood
wards stopped protecting him. Would they be able to destroy the Dark Lord before the kids
became adults? Would they be able to keep them from fighting?
This time he made it to the kitchen where they were holding the meeting without running into
anyone else. He knew he was probably a bit late, but he had a reputation to maintain. He
couldn’t have these people thinking he could simply drop everything he was doing to listen to
the same things every other week.
Dumbledore was the one speaking and that never boded well. Both Remus and Black were
looking very displeased at the man, which was now a current event, but this time Arthur
Weasley also seemed to share that emotion. “—I believe it’s necessary to keep him safe.”
He nodded at Severus who nodded back and decided to watch the meeting from the corner, so
he leaned against the counter and crossed his arms in front of him.
“I'm his godfather.” Black replied, "there's nothing more important to me than his safety,
don’t you think I should have been told that my letters weren’t being delivered?”
Severus raised a single eyebrow in the Headmaster’s direction.
“I didn’t think you needed to know,” it was Albus’ response and Severus wasn’t certain what
had enraged Black the most: the tone - callous and amused - or the expression - that soft
smile that was anything but kind.
“Don’t you understand?” Sirius asked in a sarcastic, unbearable tone. “People need to know
things that concern them.”
Severus watched Remus, he knew they were still fighting, loudly, publicly, and ridiculously.
But still, “Yeah,” Remus replied, his amber eyes cold and even though it was clear he was so
goddamn tired of Black’s bullshit, he added: “They need to know that they are not pawns in
another’s man’s war. They need to know that as fifteen years old they can trust and rely on
the adults around them to keep them safe. Not isolated. They need to know that their pain is
not a worthwhile sacrifice for a war they were thrown into.” Remus said all that looking
straight at Dumbledore. Severus wondered just how much Albus wanted the werewolves on
their side to still have Remus at the meetings when it was clear whom the wolf would be
fighting for.
Albus smiled again and even Severus felt wronged by that. “Is this what you’ve been telling
Hermione, Remus?” The man asked, “That she’s a pawn? Is this why you won’t allow her to
come here?”
“She’s not here because I don’t trust the people in here to not be assholes to her,” Remus
replied and threw a pointed look at Black. “But no Headmaster, I’m not telling her anything.
She’s quite a bright girl on her own and I think she will find it difficult to believe that keeping
her letters for her brother in a delicate moment such as this between them was to keep him
safe.”
“You are keeping her letters as well?” Severus asked and he didn’t hold back his snarl.
“That’s why she thinks her brother hates her.”
“Have you spoken to your daughter, Severus?” Dumbledore asked instead.
“Yes.”
“I hope the conversation went well. I’d like to see the kind of father you can be.”
Remus knocked his fist on the table. Tonks next to him jumped. He watched as the girl
changed her hair to match Remus’ colour in her shock, but she quickly changed it back to the
vivid purple she had previously. “This is not about what you’d like to see.” Remus snapped.
“This is a girl who has had her life turned upside down and has had every column of her life
shaken! This is a girl whom you promised answers, or have you been keeping your letters as
well?”
“I understand you feel strongly about the girl Remus, and despite your beliefs, I do have
Hermione's best interests in mind. I’ve promised her answers but there are things which are
more pressing at the moment.” Dumbledore argued, “And I’m certain you can answer most
of her questions, can’t you?”
Severus worked his jaw. Albus still believed that Remus knew more, that his Mary did it was
just an excuse. As long as they didn’t find Mary. As long as Black kept his mouth shut.
“I've answered what I could, yes,” Remus replied promptly.
“Good. That doesn’t mean I don’t wish Severus to have a good relationship with his
daughter.” Albus concluded, turning to him in expectancy.
"It was sufficient,” Severus replied. Neither Dumbledore nor any of these people would have
anything from his relationship with Hermione.
Black made a sound from where he sat, and Remus was out for blood. This close to the
moon, no one could escape his mood. Remus turned to Black again, “And before you think I
didn’t catch your meaning, yeah, I kept the truth from you, from James. I took her out
because I thought Harry would be safe with you and me. I took her out because that was
Lily’s dying wish for her daughter, but you decided to go after Wormtail instead of coming to
me. You went and fucked everything up because you were young, emotional, betrayed and so
fucking impulsive. We were supposed to raise him, but you blew things up knowing full well
that no one would ever give me Harry Potter to raise, so don’t come at me about things we
should know.”
Severus watched the room around him. This was a small meeting. Besides them, the others
present were only Arthur, Moody and Tonks. The girl looked between Remus and Sirius as if
they were the most interesting soap opera she ever watched. Moody kept his normal eye on
Sirius while the fake one moved from Remus to Dumbledore and him. Arthur was looking
down at his plate, but Severus caught the small nod the man gave. He seemed to agree with
Remus.
The wolf got up and announced that he was leaving. No one tried to stop him. Black
remained silent, finally, the fight seemed to have left his body.
They moved on from Hermione and Harry after that. Severus learned why Tonks had been
brought to the meeting - two wizards from the department of mysteries had disappeared, only
to be quickly substituted by what Arthur and Moody knew were compromised wizards.
His turn came and he didn’t bother finding a place on the table, especially because where he
stood was close to the door and he could make a quick exit after it. Narcissa had a gift for
relaying information without looking like she was doing it, and he simply shared. "Voldemort
plans on breaking his followers out of Azkaban before Christmas and he may use the
Dementors.”
The hour grows cold
“We need to remove the Dementors from Azkaban,” Dumbledore said, repeating what he had
said in the hospital wing after the last task. “If he plans on breaking them out, he’s going to
do it with them.” He told Moody, “you need to find a way to get a word in with Fudge. I’m
afraid he has stopped reading my letters.”
And yet, the man was in correspondence with Narcissa Malfoy. Once more Severus
wondered how different their effort would be if Dumbledore were willing to negotiate with
Narcissa.
They left one by one. And when Black lingered at the threshold of the kitchen Severus knew
he wouldn’t be leaving without speaking to the man.
This time it was Black who cast the silencing spell around them. “Bellatrix's cell was right
across from mine,” the man began, “when she was brought in a few weeks after me, the only
thing she would rave about other than Voldemort’s name was Hermione’s, or that Potter Girl
as she used to say. When they didn’t get anything from the Longbottons, she was certain
Hermione’s disappearance had to do with Voldemort’s.” Black said. “She will come for
Hermione.”
“She can only try,” Severus replied. “But Bellatrix will meet the end of my wand before she
comes close to my daughter.”
“It was more than sufficient, wasn’t it?”
“It doesn’t concern you.”
“I love her and I care for her.”
“She is sure that you hate her now.”
Black’s eyes darkened and Merlin, wasn’t Severus itching for a fight?
“So I will apologize. I will tell her how much she means to me and I will do better.” He said,
“I don’t have a debt to pay, will you be able to be the father she deserves when he sends you
in deeper and deeper?”
Severus stalked towards him and before either of them knew, he had his hands on Black’s
lapels. “And what about you? He let you rot because it was convenient to him, he has kept
your letters, will you be able to be the godfather Harry deserves when he tosses you aside
again?”
Black pushed him back and scowled. “I hate that I’m stuck with you.” He said and for the
first time, Severus heard something other than hatred coming from the man in front of him. It
was grief and misery and the poignant feeling that one knew exactly what they had lost
because of the other.
Severus blamed Sirius for Lily.
Sirius blamed Severus for Regulus.
There would never be a middle ground between them when what they had lost was too great
of a divider.
In the end, Severus could only give back the favour.
Their summer at Remus' was worlds different from what their easter had been. Not only
because there were two people missing, but because the mood was also very different. Remus
would often leave for Order missions or meetings, and Hermione had yet to decide which one
she liked less. Whenever Remus left to meet with the werewolves he returned bruised, but the
meetings at Grimmauld Place brought back a different Remus, angrier and sadder, and
immensely displeased with Dumbledore. He wouldn’t tell them what happened in those
meetings, but they’d hear him mutter the headmaster's name while he brewed his coffee.
Whatever the reason, Remus was absent in his own house.
And Hermione was withdrawing too, despite Theo’s and Blaise’s attempts to get her to do
something other than read behind the closed doors of her bedroom. She was trying, but the
silence was taking a toll on her. The letters to Harry went unanswered, no matter how much
or how little she wrote on them. Hermione had only sent one letter to her parents and they
replied with a brief ‘we need more time’ and it felt like a death sentence.
How much more time people needed to forgive her for something she didn’t do?
Didn’t they love her? Why was it so hard to find within them to do just that?
And the Malfoys, Merlin she wanted to scream at Lucius, she wished she had fought
harder… Sometimes, sometimes she wished she had signed it. Was it why Narcissa and
Draco hadn’t written? Did they know? Were they expecting her to sign? Draco had been so
happy after his conversation with his father, he seemed so excited… was the contract the
reason? It couldn’t be. Hermione wanted more from them.
We will always reach for you, Narcissa had said. From where Hermione stood, there wasn’t
much reaching going on.
July was impossibly hot, Hermione and the boys would spend most of their time outside the
house, either sprawled on the grass - Blaise - or doing the four thousand-piece puzzle they
found in the attic - Hermione and Theo. Theo had no idea what puzzles were and had been
fascinated to discover that those tiny pieces would turn out to be Edinburgh’s High Mile
during golden hour. They had finished the corners and were in the process of separating the
sky when Remus returned.
“Hey,” he greeted them, nudging Blaise’s foot on the grass and stopping between Theo and
Hermione to watch their progress. “Is there any difference?”
Theo scowled. Hermione believed that the decision to separate purple and pink pieces of the
sky was due to the fact he managed to put five pieces in the three hours that Remus had been
gone.
“We decided to organize everything first,” Hermione said but shared a knowing smile with
Remus with a pointed glance at Theo. “We are separating the buildings from the sky.”
“Sounds like a plan.” He replied, “I will get some coffee done and then help you two. I am
particularly good at puzzles.” Remus said and Hermione barely managed to hide her surprise,
for he always preferred to hide away after retuning from Order business.
“I made coffee,” Theo said, “I think I finally understood the coffee machine.” Remus smiled
and patted Theo on the shoulder before heading inside.
“That's a good mood, right?” Hermione asked quietly.
“Yeah, but it hangs by a thread with Theo’s coffee-making skills,” Blaise replied from where
he lay.
“Shut up,” Theo mumbled while Hermione giggled. They watched Remus return, Blaise had
even sat up to see better and Theo waited apprehensively for Remus’ reaction.
“Oh Theo,” Remus said, both hands carrying his mug, “you are heaven-sent.” He announced
and Hermione saw Theo’s pale cheeks reddening. Hermione shared an amused look with
Blaise and caught the ‘such a favourite’ he mouthed at her.
Hermione chuckled and looked at the pair, Theo was almost as tall as Remus and both had
that lanky air to them, but just as Remus' jumpers and fawn trousers worked for him, Theo’s
turtlenecks and fitted slacks did the same. It was summer, why the pair was still in long
sleeves was beyond Hermione.
The four of them began working together on the puzzle and Remus was actually quite good at
it, he had an eye for the pieces that was impressive. He nudged Hermione, “I've got
something for you.” He said.
“What is it?”
“Harry might not be ignoring you.” He told her and Hermione tensed. They were days away
from August and every single letter so far had gone unanswered. “I just learned that
Dumbledore is intercepting the letters.”
“Why?” She asked, half furious, half relieved. Just the day before she had cursed Harry’s
hotheadedness.
“He instructed Ron and Sirius not to disclose anything that is happening at the Order in case
they go astray, but Sirius has been… defying these orders and today we learned that Sirius’
letters from the past two weeks haven’t been delivered. I believe the same is happening to
yours.”
“That's absurd!” Hermione said, and in her disbelief, almost knocked a few pieces around.
“What is this? He’s keeping him in the dark? That’s how he decided to deal with a fifteen-
year-old boy who was tortured, saw a classmate being murdered and escaped yet another
murder attempt, by alienating him?”
“I made all the same points as you Hermione, Dumbledore believes Harry’s safe at his aunt
and uncle and if he gets too much information from the outside, he will become restless and
will want to leave.”
“He always wants to leave there! They are terrible!” Hermione retorted.
“I know that Hermione, Lily told me about her sist—”
“No, Remus. You don’t understand.” Hermione cut him off angrily, “he hides food under the
floorboards because they starve him. He only gets scraps after they’ve eaten. Ron and I
always sent him food along with our letters, if he’s not getting them—”
“That's why my cupcakes were missing!” Blaise said.
“Hermione,” Remus said, his face ashen and the tempestuous anger back in his eyes. “Is this
true?”
“Yes.” She said and even among all of the hurt and anger, she felt her eyes watering with the
thought of Harry going through the days without enough food. “Why do you think he’s so
short?” She asked with a watery laugh, “Or why his clothes are loose and he returns to the
castle thinner than he left?”
She knew Harry’d hate her for sharing this with them, for telling them things that not even he
had told her precisely. It had been passing comments, things such as ‘if I got one of this it
wouldn’t fit under my floorboard’ after watching Draco unwrap one of his mother’s cakes and
Hermione had been too stunned to ask what he meant. Because deep down, she knew. Harry’s
comments hadn’t been a one-off, he had his fair share of disturbing comments that had
warning bells all around. Merlin, Harry always burned his mouth because he never waited for
the hot food to cool down a bit before putting it in his mouth, because I’m just not used to
eating things while they are still warm. Hermione might not know the exact extent of what
happened at Privet Drive, but she knew it wasn’t right and she would have it, she’d face the
brunt of his anger, because while her summer hadn’t been a walk in the park so far, Hermione
knew what was happening, she had her explanations. And Merlin, she had yet to talk to her
parents or to the Malfoys, but she was safe and surrounded by people she loved and loved
her. Hermione knew she had everything to get through this, with or without Harry.
Harry had been given nothing. In fact, they had even taken things from him.
Voldemort had told him that Lily only asked to spare her.
Cedric was dead because they agreed to touch the Cup together last term.
Ron was spending the summer with his family and Sirius at Sirius’ house.
And Harry was stuck at Privet Drive.
“Does Dumbledore know this?” Remus asked, carefully.
“I don’t know. He doesn’t like to talk about it, and most of the time I don’t think he realises
how bad it actually is, he never told me, it’s just—the things he says.”
“Fuck,” Remus swore, “If Sirius learns this—” he shook his head, “God, don't mind Sirius! If
I didn't know that Dumbledore would shut me away as quickly as a blink if I did something,
I’d go over there right now and get him back.”
“How does Dumbledore knows what letters to intercept?” Theo asked.
“There’s a spell for that.” Remus replied, “It's like how you ward your Floo to allow certain
people in and keep others out.”
“Is it name-based?” Theo asked again, “like how Professor Snape couldn’t keep the hate mail
from reaching Hermione, only make them get to him first?”
He had done that for her. What else had he done?
“Yes,” Remus replied and he tilted his head to the side, “I know where you are going and I’m
interested.”
“So Dumbledore black-listed Sirius, Hermione and probably you. Now that he knows you
know, he will probably black-list me and Blaise,” Theo said and they all nodded, Dumbledore
was many things, but a fool wasn’t one of them. Despite ‘old fool’ being Narcissa’s and
Snape’s nickname for him. “We get someone he wouldn’t have blacklisted then.”
“Who?” Remus asked, “it has to be someone we can trust to talk to him for us and someone
whom he will trust enough to open the letter and believe it.”
The three Slytherins exchanged smirks and chuckled at the same time. Oh, they had a perfect
person for the job.
Remus was looking at them warily, “I’m not as versed in Slytherin as you think, so I will
need the spoken decision.”
“Pansy Parkinson.” The three replied at the same time.

“She will do it gladly,” Blaise added.
“She will eat him alive,” Theo concluded.
Remus looked between them, “I don’t want to know, do I?”
“No, but she will get it done. And Harry will open her letter.” Hermione said.
They decided to stop with the puzzle for the day and to word the letter they’d send to Pansy
together in the living room. Remus cast a stasis charm on the puzzle and warded it so no
pieces would fly or get wet in case of wind or rain.
In the end, they decided to keep it short.
Dear Pansy,
We need you to get a letter to Harry. Hermione’s letters are not getting through or he might
be ignoring her.
Do your worst,
"That's not necessary,” Hermione said when she saw Blaise’s addition.
“Yes, it is.” He retorted.
“Tell him Sirius is also trying to write,” Remus told them.
Dear Pansy,
We need you to get a letter to Harry. Hermione’s letters are not getting through. Maybe he’s
just ignoring her.
We believe that Dumbledore knows to keep our letters as well.
Do your worst,
His godfather’s letters are in fact being kept from him.
Do your absolute worst,
Blaise, Theo, Hermione and Remus
“Blaise!”
“Please, she will have fun and it’s not like he doesn’t deserve it!”
“Hermione, he has Hedwig, he could have written to you.” Theo pointed out and Hermione
huffed.
She knew better than to believe that his silence was only Dumbledore’s doing.
They watched the owl fly with the small envelope in its legs, “If he’s really ignoring you, I’m
going to punch his face.” Theo announced when the owl had flown away from view.
Hermione snorted, “I'm might do it myself.”
“Well, you slapped Draco for less,” Blaise added and he winced. They were not talking about
Draco.
“And I’m punching him as well.”
“I think we should tone down the violence and go to bed,” Remus told them. “Tomorrow I
won’t need to leave, so we can continue the puzzle.”
They all grumbled but didn’t argue, Remus was strict with their bedtimes and despite being
annoyed that he insisted they all went to bed and got up at proper hours, they couldn’t
complain when every night, no matter how tired or angry he was with the world outside the
small house, he’d always sit down on her bed in the room the three Slytherins were sharing -
Remus didn’t let Theo and Blaise share and neither wanted Hermione to sleep alone, so they
dragged a third mattress and put down between the two beds - and pick a book to read
together.
Hermione absolutely loved the schedule they had settled on: each day of the week was one
genre and while the boys were busy coming up with names to fit the themes, Hermione and
Remus would choose the titles from Penguin Books, since they had shorter versions of the
classics Remus insisted the two pureblood boys had to read.
When Remus left around an hour later, Theo whispered to her from the mattress on the floor,
“Why don’t you ask Professor Snape about the Malfoys? Draco’s sudden silence doesn’t
make sense. Neither Narcissa’s.”
“I didn’t tell him. We have so much to unravel already, I don’t want to ask anything of him.”
“But he might know anyway, I’m certain Remus mentioned it to him. I doubt Professor Snape
would take it lightly that Lucius kicked you out of the Manor.”
“Theo…”
“He's right Hermione.” Blaise argued, “However mixed feelings you have for him right now,
his feelings are very much in order. He has acted as your father all this time and I think he’d
like if you—”
“Blaise.” She cut him off.
“Okay, sorry.”
It was complicated to talk about Snape with them when neither boy had a father figure. She
knew they’d take their sour Potions professor in a heartbeat if they were in her shoes. Blaise
with the many men that never stuck for longer than a school year and Theo with a father that
only gave him bruises and broken bones.
They didn’t understand that Hermione was willing to try, that when she told Severus that
there may be space for Lily, she meant that there might be space for him too and that had to
be enough, at least for now.
“And besides, the Malfoys also have owls. Nothing kept Narcissa from coming here before,
her silence is a sentence.”
On the next day, Remus announced that they had had enough of lazying around and they
should begin working on their summer homework, which of course was directed to Theo and
Blaise because Hermione had already finished hers in the days between the manor and the
boys coming. They all agreed to do it before dinner and while they still had some hours until
that, they were all very much lazying around.
“You know,” Blaise started, he was lounging on the front porch, shirtless and completely
carefree. “I think Theo kind of sees Professor Lupin as a father figure.”
Hermione watched Theo and Remus together, down by the creek. Remus was teaching Theo
how to fish with a muggle fishing rod. Both Blaise and Hermione had opted out. Hermione
because that was something she shared with her father and it hurt, thinking of him then.
Blaise just found it boring.
Even from a distance, she could see the pair were talking, Remus saying something and Theo
nodding along. “Which is good.” Hermione said, “He deserves a proper male figure in his
life.”
“He does.” Blaise agreed. “Did he tell you what Lupin told him that first day of class? With
the dementors?”
“I don’t think he did.”
“He told Theo that he shouldn’t fear his father, for to fear him is to fight him and one can
only successfully fight another if you come to understand it and—”
“He who fights with monsters might take care, lest he thereby becomes a monster,” Hermione
said with a small chuckle.
“What?” Blaise asked.
“Remus quoted Beyond Good and Evil at Theo,” Hermione explained, “We tend to become
what we fear, it’s kind of the whole point of the book.”
“Oh,” He said, “You two are such bookworms, I hate it.”
Hermione leaned against him, “Theo’s so angry. I think Remus understands that too, with
everything that happened to him. It’s good that they can share that. I want Theo back.” She
said. He had gotten better, of course, but she still missed the Theo before the attack on the
World Cup.
“He’s in there still,” Blaise said. “And what amazes me the most and honestly inspires me is
how much he knows who he wants to be. He was aimless at the beginning of last year but
now—” Blaise shook his head and there was only admiration in his gaze, “he’s purposeful.
He’s grand.” Hermione nodded.
“For someone who grew up as an only child, I now find myself with three brothers.” It didn’t
matter that her real brother had literally pushed her away and told her to get away from him.
He was still her brother.
Blaise laughed. “Merlin, can you imagine it? The shit show it would be? Sirius and Harry
remove their wands from their asses, and Remus adopts Theo. I tag along because I can’t
stand to be away from him, we could name it F.A.G.G.O.T. for Former Abandoned
Glowering Gay Orphans in Tandem.”
Hermione snorted and she wasn’t the only one. Both of them whirled and found Sirius Black
standing at the door, seemingly amused.
“That’s a very nice name.” He told Blaise. Hermione noticed he had a black eye.
“Thanks. But if you are here to be shitty to her you can return to the Floo you just came out.”
He said and it shouldn’t be intimidating, because Blaise was fifteen and was shirtless and
Sirius was—well, Sirius, but Hermione saw how serious he took Blaise's threat.
“Or to yell at Remus,” Hermione added, much less firm than her friend.
“I’m not here to do either of those things,” Sirius told them. “Can I talk to you, Hermione?”
“Yes.”
She got up and followed Sirius inside, not without noticing that Blaise was glaring at Sirius
quite forcefully.
They went to her room and Sirius noted the extra mattress on the floor but didn’t comment.
Hermione sat down on her bed and Sirius sat in front of her.
“I'm sorry.” He said. “I shouldn’t have behaved the way I did. I should have gone to you the
moment I learned the truth and told you that we’d go through this together.”
“Yes, you should have.” She told him. “And yet, it took you a month to come.”
He nodded and hung his head, “Yes, I’m sorry. I let my animosity with Snape and my grief
for James make me blind to you, who has nothing to do with any of this.” He told her and
kneeled down in front of her, much similar to how he had done at the end of her third year
when she had saved him. “I love you kid and I was shitty to you, Blaise is right and I hope
you can forgive me, I hope you can allow me the chance to redeem myself to you.”
“Do you know how many apologies I have heard this past month?” She asked him, “and how
many more people still owe me? These words are fast becoming meaningless.”
“I’ve been told that I destroy everything that I touch and despite not taking that comment
easily, I agree that has some truth to it. Almost every person I ever loved is dead Hermione
and sometimes is easier to be destructive than to protect what I still have left.” He told her,
“James gave me everything and the one thing I could have given him, I failed. When I
learned you were alive, it was like I had been given this second chance to make it right. To
find out you are Severus’, that Lily betrayed James like that, that my brother was lef—” He
shook his head and Hermione didn’t need to hear the rest, for she knew already. “I'm not
angry at you, I’m sorry I made it like it was your fault, I'm sorry I hate that Severus Snape is
alive when they are not and I’m sorry that I could only see him when I looked at you that
night in the Hospital Wing.”
“How did you get that black eye?” She asked him instead.
Hermione hated apologies, she didn’t know what to say to them. She was hurt, he had hurt
her and his words were soothing, but the burn was still beneath it, she was still carrying it
with her.
“He returned the favour.” Sirius replied and Hermione guessed that he was talking about
Severus, “I provoked him.”
“You know what upset me the most?” She asked and didn’t make a move when she noticed
his hand was inching closer to her knees, he looked penitent on his knees but Hermione could
only feel one thing, so she told him, “I took your truth that night in the Shack and got Harry
to listen to you. I put myself in danger twice for you that night, even though I had met you
hours earlier and still, after a year of knowing me, after a lifetime of knowing I was family,
you still turned away from me, you still chose your hatred for Severus, your grief for James
instead of your love for me and your love for Remus.”
“Remus betrayed me, Hermione.”
“And you betrayed him.” She replied curtly, and maybe she was Severus Snape’s daughter
after all, because she added, “And he forgave you for making him a monster, why is that his
crime is worse than yours?”
Sirius was taken aback, “he told you.”
“Severus did.”
“Of course he did.” Sirius retorted with a snort. “Of course, he’d tell you.”
“Because I’m done with secrets.” She said, “Because if I am to trust him, Remus or you, I
need to know why I am in this mess in the first place.”
“I never kept any dirty secrets from you, Hermione.”
“But you treated me like I was dirty anyway.”
Sirius sat back on the mattress, his knees close to his chest and an arm resting on top of them.
“Merlin, I’m so sorry.”
“You know what my forgiveness hinders on.” She told him, “Everything he did was to keep
me safe, despite the pain that it brought into my life, his betrayal was to keep me safe, I can’t
fault him for that. I love you Sirius and I’d love to have what we had during Easter back, if
you love me enough to apologise to me, why don’t you love him enough to understand that?"
“What? Are you doubting my love for Remus? Hermione, excuse me but you don’t know—”
“No. But what I do know is that being deeply in love with someone means that you try and
keep trying very hard to make it work and to grow closer to the person that you love.” She
told him, she might be young, but despite current behaviours, she had seen Draco grow and
change and prove to her, she'd seen Theo defy his father at every turn for her and for Blaise,
and she'd seen Pansy say to hell with everything. Merlin, she was seeing Remus stand strong
on his two feet for her. “When you are in love, you are gentle and kind, and take care of one
another. From what I see? You are only intent on hurting him.”
“That’s not true, he hurt me, Hermione.” Sirius retorted.
“Yes. And he apologised and he explained. And every time you come back here to scream at
him, he tries again, even though he tells me that he’s done once you leave. But he’s not done.
He won’t ever be done with you, so why Sirius Black are you done with him?”
“I’m not! I love Moony, he’s my everything, I couldn’t ever be done with him!”
“Really? Do you really love him, Sirius? Or did you come back to him because he was the
only thing you knew? Did you ever ask how was his life when you were gone? Did you ever
wonder if he dropped anything for you? Or you just took it?”
“You are being mean, Hermione.” He said.
“Yes, because you are being mean to him and you were mean to me. Yet, I’m here. I can find
in myself to forgive you because being here without you feels wrong and I miss what we had
here during easter, but only if you find in yourself to forgive him.”
“James gave you to him as a goddaughter and Remus lied anyway, he—”
“I know you loved James, but he’s dead Sirius, he’s been dead for fourteen years,” Hermione
replied, almost desperate. “Are you really willing to lose Remus and me for someone who’s
been dead so long?”
“You are making me choose?”
“It shouldn’t be a choice!” She snapped. Maybe it was the cold of the dungeons finally
setting in her bones, maybe it was her Slytherin armour that had finally settled, but Hermione
wasn’t close to crying, in fact, this was the conversation where she felt more composed. “You
said almost everyone you ever loved is dead now, and what do you have of them? Memories.
You can have moments with us.”
Whatever Sirius was about to say got interrupted by the door opening. They found Remus
and Theo standing there on the threshold, Blaise a little behind Theo. Remus was tense.
“What are you doing here?” He asked.
“I came to apologize to Hermione,” Sirius replied, in the same clipped voice.
“To Hermione,” Remus repeated.

“Yes. She has nothing to do with the situation. She didn’t know everything since the
beginning and hid from everyone else, neither did she lie to her best friends.” Sirius snapped
quickly, it was more defensive than anything else.
“You can cut it off,” Remus said, voice bitting.
Theo scoffed, and with a smirk that reflected on his voice, added, “that dude you told me
about? The one you learned that thing you explained? I think he deserves another chance.”
Sirius burned red in anger, his black eyes widened and he looked from Remus to Theo. Theo,
knowing exactly what he had just done, simply ignored and slipped past, taking Blaise by the
hand. “Come on, I need to show you something.”
“I do hope you don’t do it over the couch,” Remus called after them and Theo’s grin should
have been illegal.
Sirius seemed to have regained his composure. “That’s what you’ve been teaching him?”
“What?” Remus tested. Sirius didn’t reply. Remus sighed. “Look, you said your piece, I said
mine. If you are not willing to meet me halfway, I have nothing to offer you.”
“You li—”
“Don’t you dare, Sirius.” Remus threatened.
How much more anger two people who loved one another could carry?
Hermione wouldn’t have it. She wouldn’t. She saw how painful it had been when Sirius
returned, how they had been stretched thin before they managed to find some resemblance of
truce and begin to move on. To move on together.
Hermione wouldn’t have her existence of destruction carve a path in their lives.
“Stop it.” She said. “Both of you.” Her voice was firm and she didn’t flinch at the anger and
betrayal in Sirius’ eyes. For people who weren’t related, anger looked exactly the same on
Sirius Black and Harry Potter.
“Hermione—” Remus started, but Hermione wouldn’t have it.
Maybe the problem was her. Maybe it wasn’t Sirius that broke everything he touched, maybe
there was something in her that was just as tainted. Maybe that was why her parents had
simply written that they needed more time, maybe that was why Narcissa and Draco seemed
fine with Lucius kicking her out. Maybe she was doomed to have people fighting because of
her only to later decide she wasn’t worth it after all. She would leave before Remus decided
the same.
“I can leave. I can stay away from him if that’s what you want. I know that I’m a stain in
James’ memory and I’m sorry.” Hermione said. Her entire body flinched when the words no
one wants you ran through her mind, she flinched because it came in Theo’s voice as if her
soul knew his voice would hurt her the most.
Remus was looking at her like she was breaking his heart. Hermione was breaking a lot of
hearts this summer.
She turned to him, “you are free too. You don’t need to hold back anymore because there are
no more secrets to keep.” She said it because now it made sense. Now she understood why
she always felt like Remus was the one keeping Sirius at arm's length. Because he knew this
and he knew Sirius would react exactly like he was reacting now. “You don’t have to protect
me anymore.”
“I protect you because I love you, Hermione. Because you mean the world to me.” Remus
replied, almost as if she had insulted him. “This is not—”
“Don’t lose it over me.” She cut him off again, “I was here remember? I saw it all. Please,
don’t lose it over me. Not again.”
“What are you talking about?” Sirius asked suspicion and distrust in his voice and features.
He looked at Remus.
“All those years ago, you thought he was the traitor because he was hiding something from
you.” She replied sadly, “You thought that all those times he went somewhere it was because
he was the spy. But he was working on getting me out. I was the last strain between the two
of you and I still was after you returned. I won’t be it again. He kept me a secret because of a
promise to Lily. If he can forgive you for betraying him, you can forgive him for betraying
James. I don’t need your forgiveness.”
“Because you didn’t do a bloody thing, Hermione,” Remus replied, his voice close to a
growl.
She shrugged. The thing was, Hermione didn’t know these people. She didn’t know James
and Lily, she didn’t feel a connection to them like Harry did. Harry needed a family. Harry
needed Sirius and Remus. Hermione had a happy run so far and she had the boys and the
girls. She could have Severus Snape if she wanted. Hermione would shoulder it on for her
brother to have his turn now.
Sirius didn’t say a thing, he just kept looking at her.
Did he know that her mother and father were still not talking to her? That Lucius Malfoy had
kicked her out and neither remaining Malfoy had written her asking why she had left?
If she left, losing Remus would be just another loss in her path of destruction.
No one wants you, Theo’s voice echoed again.
Hermione glanced at the corridor where the boy had just left. She wouldn’t survive losing
him too.
“You are not leaving Hermione,” Remus said because he knew that Hermione didn’t have
anywhere else to go. “He is.” He added, turning to Sirius. “If you can’t understand that I’d do
anything for my goddaughter like I know you would do anything for yours, you never knew
me. And I had enough of people who don’t know me.”
“Remus—”
“Sirius, I don’t want to fight anymore.” Remus cut him off, his voice harsh. “I know what I
did. I’ve lived with it for the past fifteen years. It was my decision. In the same way that you
decided to switch without telling me, I decided to keep Lily’s secret without telling you!”
Remus went to the kitchen and started to open and close cabinets with a bit of too much
strength. “What guy?” Sirius asked, following him, his voice quiet and his face crumpled.
Hermione went after them.
Remis closed something a bit too forceful. They met in the living room with fiery eyes.
Sirius didn’t know how to quit.
“No.” He said, coming very close and pressing his finger on Sirius’ chest. “You don’t get to
have that answer now. If you think you get to ask me about what I did with my life while you
were gone, while I thought I would never see you again, think again!”
“I just want to know how quickly you tossed me asid—” the last letter got muffled with the
shove. Hermione gasped.
Shit. They were going to go over it with her in the middle.
“Shut the fuck up, Sirius,” Remus growled. “I tossed you aside?” He laughed as if the mere
idea was crazy to him. “It took me six years to stop crying every day! I was alone!
Completely, utterly alone! Everyone I once knew was dead! You were in Azkaban! Despite
believing that you had betrayed us all, despite thinking the absolute worst of you all these
years, I never let a single man cross that corridor!” He shouted. Theo and Blaise had returned
and they were both standing in the said corridor watching the scene unfold. “It made me sick.
Violently sick to be intimate with someone else and do you know why? Because I could
never stop loving the living shit out of you, you bloody egocentric, egoistic prick!”
“Moo-”
“Don’t call me that,” Remus said, voice shaking. “Please, don’t call me that.”
Sirius looked at her one more time. Then he looked at the pair in the corridor, and finally, he
rest his eyes on Remus again. “Okay,” he said, quietly and defeated. Are you really willing to
lose Remus and me for someone who’s been dead so long? “I'm not.” He said to Hermione
because the same thing had crossed both of their minds. He turned to Remus then, “I'm sorry,
Remus. I—Merlin, I don’t want to lose you, I don’t want to lose Hermione, hell, I don’t want
to lose them—” he pointed to Theo and Blaise,
“Cheers,” Blaise said with a snort.
“—And I was wrong. I was completely and utterly in the wrong. I will do better, I promise
you.”
She shared a quick look at Blaise and Theo. There was a reason why they wore green to
school while the two adults in the room wore red in their time. For the Slytherins, forgiving
was not forgetting and whatever Remus decided, that one look between them was clear:
Sirius Black would grovel.
Remus took a deep breath and didn’t reply for what felt like hours. He looked at them, at the
three kids he opened his home to. The kids he picked up broken and bruised and said ‘here,
stay, we will make this your home’. And Hermione might have pieces of what happened
during their years at Hogwarts, glimpses at what was clearly a soul-bonding friendship
between Sirius, James and Remus - maybe even Peter, before the betrayal - so she knew what
Remus was going to say and wasn’t surprised when he did. “Okay,” Remus finally said, “this
is the last time Sirius. You don’t get to fuck up with me anymore. You choose destruction one
more time and we are done, do you understand?” Remus asked, his tone was calm and even
so, it was brutal, Sirius looked exactly as he did last summer when Padfoot would often
remind her of a beaten dog. “Thirteen years is a long time Sirius, I can learn how to live
without you again.”
Sirius' reply was immediate, “Please don’t,” he sounded desperate. Hermione wondered if she
should leave, if she should be witnessing this, “I will meet you halfway, Godric, I will meet
you three-quarters of the way, I—I don’t want memories of you, I want a life with you.” He
looked at Hermione and nodded again, more firmly, more decided. “Nothing is worth more
than all of this, what we built here last easter, this is why I want to fight for, I’m sorry I got
blinded for so long, I’m sorry I’m so difficult.”
“Okay,” Remus repeated and Hermione wondered if he could even say anything else. Better
than anyone - anyone alive that is - she knew exactly how much Remus Lupin loved the man
in front of them. She knew what he had forgiven for him, she knew that he could yes, live
without him, but that he much preferred to have Sirius with him. “But I think it’s better if you
leave now. At least for now.” Sirius was nodding, he’d take anything now, “I will stay here
with them and you stay in Grimmauld with Harry when he comes and we will meet halfway.”
“Three-quarters of the way.” Sirius corrected and Hermione smiled a bit. “Anything for you,
Moony. Anything.”
“It's not only me this time.”
Sirius looked around.
“Anything for us.” He replied.
They watched in silence as he took the Floo back to Grimmauld Place. The moment the green
flames disappeared, Remus turned to her. “What did you tell him?”
“I made him choose.” She replied.
“Choose?” He asked and Hermione noticed his slightly widened eyes.
“Between you and James.” Hermione said with a shrug, “he chose you.”
Remus breathed long and hard and Hermione saw the movement his chest made. She could
almost feel the pain that seemed to have dislodged from his chest. “Merlin, Hermione.” He
whispered. He didn’t think Sirius would.
“Damn, girl,” Blaise muttered and came into the living room, he grabbed hold of her hand
and pulled her to sit on the sofa with him.
Remus was still looking at her like she was something impossible. She added, “I told him that
James has been dead for a long time and that the only thing he could have of James was his
memories, but he could still make moments with you.”
“Merlin, Hermione.” He repeated and sat down on the armchair across from them.
Theo snorted and came to sit on her other side, “maybe Grant won’t get a second chance after
all.”
This time Remus snorted, “you were such a shithead for that.” He said and threw a well-
aimed cushion at the boy. It hit both of them right in the face.
“Well, I find that jealousy usually speeds up the process,” Theo replied.
This time both Hermione and Blaise snorted, “Was this enlightenment before or after Blaise
kissed that boy during the Yule Ball?” Hermione asked, trying to stifle her giggles.
“Don't betray me like that you little snake.” Blaise hissed and pinched her sides.
“Right at that moment,” Theo replied and they all fell into laughter.
Chapter End Notes
I wanted to say that I really enjoy your takes on the characters and love how deeply you
feel for them and (not a surprise!!) I do too. For me, Hermione is a very strong character
but we often seem to forget that they are all kids, I had my emotions everywhere when I
was fifteen and I wasn't nearly as rational as she is. But she's still young and she's
suffering. But our girl here knows her worth and she knows what she deserves, she
doesn't have only Harry and Ron like in canon and she's not trying as hard as she was to
fit in (like she was in the first years of this story).
If it's not clear to everyone already: Remus is my favourite character in the series and he
deserves all of the stars in the universe. said that, Sirius is a very complicated star. He's
getting there, he's doing his rounds in apologies and he's coming to accept that Severus
will be a part of his life.
Next, HARRY !!! (because you've waited long enough and complained as well)
The title and the quote at the beginning belong to Playing God by Paramore.
There's another chapter coming!!
how to draw the line between wrath and mercy?
Chapter Notes
ATTENTION! THIS IS THE SECOND UPDATE OF THE DAY! IF YOU HAVEN'T

READ CHAPTER FORTY-THREE GO BACK!!!
Excerpts were taken from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. They don't belong
to me.
Rage is a quiet thing

You think that you've tamed it
But it's just lying in wait
Oh, rage
Is it in my veins?
Chapter Forty-Four
Beginning of August
Severus had just removed his cloak and was in the process of removing his shoes when
Dumbledore’s phoenix Patronus came soaring through his window.
“Harry has been expelled from Hogwarts by the ministry,” Dumbledore began, his tone
rushed. “Go to Privet Drive and keep an eye on him. Stay hidden.
The Phoenix disappeared in a wisp of silver and Severus cursed Dumbledore to hell and
back. He put his shoe back and grabbed his cloak. In seconds, he Disapparated to Privet
Drive.
He perched himself under the roof by the kitchen window. It was open and he could see
Vernon screaming, his face was as red as the tomatoes that were sizzling on the frying pan
now abandoned by Petunia.
Petunia Evans looked as nasty as she did when they were kids.
“Where d’you think you’re going?” Vernon yelled. And the boy of course ignored him, but
the Dursley was bigger and pounded across the kitchen to block the boy. He shoved Harry
back and the boy stumbled, almost falling to his backside if he hadn’t grabbed the chair that
fast. Whether it was his Seeker reflexes or it was the boy being used to that kind of
behaviour, Severus couldn’t know. “I haven’t finished with you, boy!” He thundered in
Harry’s face. It was barely there, but Severus caught the flinch anyway.
“Get out of the way,” Harry replied quietly and moved back, which put him right under the
window where Severus was hiding and next to his aunt.
“You’re going to stay here and explain how my son —”
“If you don’t get out of the way I’m going to jinx you,” Harry replied, raising his wand and
pointing at his uncle’s chest.
“You can’t pull that one on me!” Vernon snarled. “I know you’re not allowed to use it outside
that madhouse you call a school!”
Harry scowled, “The madhouse has chucked me out. So I can do whatever I like. You’ve got
three seconds. One — two —”
He was interrupted by an owl that knocked against the glass. The window was open for
Merlin's sake.
A bat’s eyesight was terrible and even with magical improvements, Severus couldn’t read the
contents of the letter.
“Right,” Harry said after reading it, “I’ve changed my mind, I’m staying.” He flung himself
down at the kitchen table and faced Dudley and Aunt Petunia. If Severus had thought that the
boy’s show of stubbornness and his behaviour were bad enough during his classes, this was
something else. The Dursleys appeared taken aback and for a moment only glared at their
nephew.
“Who are all these ruddy owls from?” Vernon growled.
“The first one was from the Ministry of Magic, expelling me,” Harry explained calmly, it was
a tone that used to get on Severus’ nerves. “The second one was from my friend Ron’s dad,
he works at the Ministry.”
“Ministry of Magic?” Vernon bellowed. Severus hated when people used tones that were
uncalled for the moment in question. “People like you in government? Oh, this explains
everything, everything, no wonder the country’s going to the dogs…” Harry completely
ignored his uncle’s comment. Of course, Petunia had married a Tory. “And why have you
been expelled?”
“Because I did magic.”
“AHA!” The baboon roared, “So you admit it! What did you do to Dudley?”
“Nothing. That wasn’t me —”
“Was,” muttered Dudley unexpectedly, and both Dursleys whirled at the voice of their son.
Severus noticed how Petunia had taken to grip the handle of the frying pan a bit too
forcefully.
“Go on, son, what did he do?”

“Pointed his wand at me,” Dudley mumbled.
“Yeah, I did, but I didn’t use —” Harry began angrily.
“SHUT UP!” roared both Dursleys in unison. Harry jumped on the chair and his entire body
reacted. He brought his left shoulder close to him, up as if to cover his ear and the side of his
face. Neither seemed the least bit fussed at the boy’s reaction.
This is normal.
“Go on, son,” Vernon repeated.
“All dark,” Dudley said hoarsely, shuddering. “Everything dark. And then I h-heard... things.
Inside m-my head...”
“So,” said Uncle Vernon, voice restored to full and considerable volume as he straightened
up. “So you put some crackpot spell on my son so he’d hear voices and believe he was —
was doomed to misery, or something, did you?”
“How many times do I have to tell you?” Both his temper and his anger escaped him. “It
wasn’t me! It was a couple of dementors!”
The hour grows cold. Lucius had known something and it wasn't only regarding an Azkaban
breakout.
“A couple of — what’s this codswallop?”
“De — men — tors,” Harry replied slowly and clearly. Severus had spoken like that to
Petunia as well. He cringed. “Two of them.”
“And what the ruddy hell are dementors?”
Not surprisingly, it was Petunia who answered. “They guard the wizard prison, Azkaban,”
The boy turned and watched his aunt with pure shock on his features. Her husband also
seemed surprised. Petunia took her hands to her mouth as if she had said a foul word.
“How d’you know that?” he asked her, astonished.
“I heard — that awful boy — telling her about them — years ago,” she said jerkily. She was
talking about him.
“If you mean my mum and dad, why don’t you use their names?”
Oh no, Harry. Severus was that awful boy. He doubted that Petunia even remembered his
name, as she had never bothered to say it. He had only ever been that awful boy to her.
Petunia didn’t have time to clarify, because yet another owl had come crashing in. This time
he recognised it to be a Ministry Owl.
Harry's uncle swore and cursed the creatures. Harry read the letter quickly, “Well, if that’s
all,” he said, getting to his feet.
“NO, IT RUDDY WELL IS NOT ALL!” bellowed his uncle. “SIT BACK DOWN!”
But it was his aunt that gripped the boy’s arm with her bony fingers and twisted his arm so he
was sat again. Harry winced.
“What now?”
“DUDLEY! I want to know exactly what happened to my son!”
“FINE!” Harry yelled back, and in his temper, red and gold sparks shot out of the end of his
wand, still clutched in his hand. All three Dursleys flinched, looking terrified.
But Petunia reacted. In a second, she had the frying pan aimed at the boy’s head and Severus
had had enough. Damn Dumbledore and his orders. He flew inside and changed back right in
the middle of their kitchen, between the boy and his aunt.
“You!” She yelled as the pan fell to the floor.
“Hello, Tunney.”
Harry was on his feet at once. “Professor—”
“Grab your trunk, we are leaving.”
“But Arthur—”
He turned to the boy, who was too shocked by Severus’ sudden appearance to remember that
he was angry, “Unless you prefer to stay?”
Harry shook his head. “My trunk is locked away in my old cupboard.”
“Pack a bag then.”
“HE'S NOT GOING ANYWHERE!” Vernon was yelling, “WHO ARE YOU? WHAT ARE
YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE?” He tried to keep Harry from getting to the stairs but Severus
pointed his wand at the man and Harry quickly made use of his uncle’s jump.
Severus turned to Petunia, “it doesn’t surprise me that’s who you are now.”
She scowled. “Do you think you have a say?” She asked, “She told me what you became.”
“I'm glad she didn’t get to see what you became.” He replied. Petunia flinched, but the
heinous expression on her face didn’t change.
Harry came back, out of breath and his backpack still open.
“You know each other.” He said. The mutual distaste in Severus’ and Petunia’s expressions
was enough of an answer. “Because of mum.”
“I don’t care about any of this, you can take the boy to hell if I care, but not before telling me
what happened to my son!” Vernon said.
Severus ignored him and turned to Harry, “Where's your trunk?”
Harry pointed at a small door in the corridor right behind the archway of the kitchen. Severus
nodded at the boy’s uncle and turned to go retrieve the trunk.
“You don’t get to move around my house!” Petunia shrieked and followed him.
Harry had begun explaining what had happened to his uncle, “Dudley and I were in the
alleyway between Magnolia Crescent and Wisteria Walk,” speaking fast, not only fighting to
control his temper but probably eager to get it over with. “Dudley thought he’d be smart with
me, I pulled out my wand but didn’t use it. Then two dementors turned up —”
“But what ARE dementoids?” Vernon asked furiously. “What do they DO?”
Severus could swear he heard a muttered ‘you are a dementoid’ before the boy said louder, “I
told you — they suck all the happiness out of you, and if they get the chance, they kiss you
—”
He had opened the cupboard and pulled the trunk from the inside. It was only then that he
saw the small cupboard properly, and his breath caught. He turned to Petunia with murderous
eyes. She held his gaze and refused to be offended.
There was a flimsy, old mattress on the floor, cobwebs all around, and the remains of what
once had been sheets and a pillow. Kid’s toys, all broken and old, neatly perched on a tiny
bookshelf, ratty clothes lay on the corner with a single pair of shoes next to it.
“Kiss you?” Vernon was asking in the kitchen, “Kiss you?”
“You kept your sister’s son in a cupboard?” He asked, how voice cold and low.
“Where else was I supposed to keep him?”
“If it had been you—” his voice cracked and he hated himself, he hated Petunia Evans and
Merlin, he hated Albus Dumbledore. “Your son would have been given everything.”
It could have been his daughter.
“I wouldn’t want him to live with freaks like you and her.”
Severus scowled and he looked at the woman in front of him. There was nothing in her that
reminded him of Lily, absolutely nothing. Lily had taken everything beautiful, while Petunia
had been left with only hatefulness.
“Potter!” He called, “we are leaving.”
The boy came rushing to the living room, Vernon behind him.
“He's not leaving until my boy is fixed! You are going to fix my son!” Vernon told him.
But Petunia was faster, “He's not touching my Dudley.”
“Very well,” Severus replied. Harry was watching his aunt and Severus knew he had
questions, knew that both of them would hate this conversation.
“Can I really leave?” The boy asked.
“Dumbledore won’t like it. But if you stay I don’t know when they will come to pick you up.
And you won’t be able to leave the house, Dementors in Little Whinging is Voldemort’s
doing, he will send Death Eaters for you.”
“Voldemort?” Petunia asked, “He's dead.”
“He returned last June,” Harry replied. “I saw him do it.”
Petunia's large, pale eyes were not narrowed in dislike or anger: They were wide and fearful.
Petunia remembered. Even though she wore her hatred and viciousness, she knew what
Voldemort had taken. When her eyes met Severus’ she scowled, “you say Death Eaters like
you are not one of them.”
“You knew,” Harry said quietly. “All this time, you didn’t only know that I was a wizard and
that my parents had been as well. You knew everything.” His green eyes flashed in anger and
whatever fleeting connection had passed between them upon Harry’s realisation that Petunia
knew full well how dangerous Voldemort was, was gone.
Everyone around him has lied to him his entire life.
She didn’t reply and Severus decided that it was enough. “Let's go.” He said and grabbing the
boy’s trunk and handing him his broom, he offered his elbow for the boy to hold. Harry
gripped it and they both were gone from Privet Drive.
They arrived at his doorstep; because he couldn’t apparate with the boy straight inside due to
the wards and from the way Harry was currently emptying the contents of his stomach to his
right, Severus thanked his paranoia that kept him from having to clean vomit of his
floorboards.
“What was that?” The boy asked, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.
“Apparition.” He replied while he dismantled the wards enough to allow the boy entry. “It
can be quite upsetting to side-apparate the first few times. I gather this was your first time?”
“Yeah,” He replied, “what gave it away?” He asked sarcastically.
Severus chose not to answer and opened the door to his house. The boy entered warily and
Severus had to hold his tongue to keep from making a witty comment. He watched as Harry
looked around, his left hand holding his broom tightly while the right one gripped the handle
of his trunk.
His house wasn’t big or as light as Lupins. He much preferred darker tones and the majority
of his furniture was from his parent's time. He stood in the side of his own living room while
Harry seemed to be studying every corner and crook around him. Severus looked away,
because he knew the boy wasn’t merely looking, but searching for hiding spots. It seemed
that—now that he had seen it, all the signs were there, crystal clear.
Harry put his things to the side. His trunk, his backpack on top of it and his broom neatly to
the side, trying to make his handful of possession occupy the minimum space possible. He
walked up to Severus’ fireplace where the pictures of Hermione sat on the mantlepiece. He
reached to touch one but stopped short as if remembering himself just in time. Severus had
gotten a new one since the last time someone had been in his house. Narcissa had given it to
him as a birthday gift the year before, it was the only picture he had with Hermione: It was
from around Christmas during her first year, they were in the greenhouses at Malfoy Manor,
preparing Lupin’s wolfsbane. Neither of them was looking at the camera because neither had
been aware of Narcissa Meddlesome Malfoy there taking it. He never told her how much he
had appreciated the intrusion, that sending the girl and giving him a moment alone with his
daughter had been more than he could have wished at that time. It was a lovely picture and its
loop caught the moment when he handed her a mortar and a pestle and she glanced up at him
with a timid smile.
“How did you get these?”
“Most of them were from Remus, the last one was Narcissa’s.”
“Remus?” Harry asked, his brows furrowed and his face pinched in confusion.
And it dawned on Severus then, no one had told anything to him yet. Between the last task,
Privet Drive and heavily censored letters, Harry Potter still didn’t know the truth.
Severus could be the one to tell him. Not Sirius Black and not Albus Dumbledore. Him.
“Voldemort lied to you.”
“And I suppose you will tell me the truth?” Harry asked, the scowl visible.
“Yes, like I told her.”
“Who knows already? Or I’m the last one to be told again?”
Well, he could be the one to tell the boy, but he would definitely be the one to get the brunt of
the boy’s anger.
“Hermione is the only one who knows the entire truth. We decided that the two of you are the
only ones who deserve it.”
“Who's we?”
“Remus.”
“Tell me.” Harry hissed and his green eyes flashed furiously. He recognised the look, he had
been on the receiving end of those eyes quite a lot during his last years of Hogwarts.
Before Severus could reply, an owl came flying in. He recognised one of the Hogwarts owls
at once and sighed inwardly. The creature dropped the envelope on his small dining table and
left before any of them could react. Severus eyed the red envelope with distaste. Albus had
sent him a howler like he was a thirteen-year-old boy. He opened it with a flick of his wand.
“I told you to stay hidden, not to kidnap the boy.” He didn’t scream, of course, Albus’
preferred method of manipulation was the disappointed tone.
The letter burst into flames and Severus turned his attention back to the boy, completely
ignoring Dumbledore’s voice. “I will not tolerate your rudeness towards me, your sister or
your mother, do you hear me? I will tell you, but you will show respect while I do it. Do you
understand?”
Harry rolled his eyes, “Like you’ve shown respect to my father all these years?”
“Do you understand?” He repeated, his voice low.
“Yeah.”
“Very well. I—”
Another owl swept in and this time Severus groaned and ripped the red envelope briskly.
“Do not ignore me, Severus. Take the boy back to Petunia where he’s safe.”
Safe.
Harry flinched at the word and for a moment he saw something akin to desperation in the
boy’s eyes. What a torment it was to be so aware of every emotion that ran through those
distinctive green eyes. “A moment,” he told the boy and came closer to the fireplace, where
Harry still stood. “Step aside.”
He shuffled and Severus silently appreciated that the boy was now cut from the view of the
fireplace. Albus wouldn’t be able to see him through the call.
“Stay there and stay quiet.” He instructed the boy, “The Headmaster’s office.” He called as he
threw in the flames.
“Severus,” Albus replied at once and tried to step through, but Severus had been prepared and
only the headmaster’s head was allowed inside his house. Glaring didn’t fit the persona Albus
carried, but he tsked in reprimand. “Would you be so kind to tell me why you disobeyed my
orders so blatantly?”
“It would be a crime to obey, Headmaster.”
“Severus, I know you have your disagreements with Petunia, but—”

“I was able to tolerate my disagreements with Tuney for fifteen minutes before she crossed
the line. Despite what I believe was the greatest effort on your part, the boy is not safe there.”
He knew his sarcasm wouldn’t escape Dumbledore’s ears, or Harry’s.
“Severus, you know quite well you can’t keep The-Boy-Who-Lived under your roof and that
Lily’s sacrifice—”
“Lily would have a lot to say if she had seen what I saw, Albus.” He hissed. No sacrifice was
worth that cupboard. “And fine, give Harry the address of Headquarters, we both know his
godfather is waiting for him.”
“Now, Severus, if you are going to be difficult too—”
“I'm not being difficult.” He retorted, “Harry has spent enough time in Privet Drive, his
birthday has passed. There’s no need for him to go back there.”
“The longer he stays, the stronger the protection grows. You know that.”
“Give the boy the Headquarters’ address, or I will drop him at Lupin’s place and you will
have a harder time getting him back to Privet Drive.”
Dumbledore laughed, but it wasn’t amusement, it was disdain. “You’ve worn the shoes
quickly, haven’t you?”
“The address, Albus.” He said and cut off the call.
“You give me shit about how I speak with you but that’s how you speak with Dumbledore.”
The boy said.
“Language.” He reprimanded. “And I’ve known Headmaster Dumbledore for longer than
you’ve been alive. I know well enough where I stand with him.”
The boy’s only response was to make a face at him. “I won’t return there.” He said instead.
“I believe that I made that quite clear, didn’t I?”
“I know. But he wants me to go.”
“Be stubborn. Merlin knows you know how to.”
Severus moved around, he was anxious and just needed to delay the conversation for a little
longer. Get his nerves about. He put the kettle on to brew some tea and waited by his mug,
glaring at it.
He had Harry Potter in his house.
He glanced up at the clock. Fifteen minutes since they arrived. No bloodshed or curse yet.
“He knew,” Harry spoke and Severus turned to find that the boy had followed him to the
kitchen.
“Be clearer.”
“Dumbledore. After I sent the Dementors away, Mrs Figg appeared. She’s the neighbour and
I believed she was a muggle, but she’s a squib and she’s been working for Dumbledore all
this time. Keeping an eye on me. She never told me anything. On his orders.”
“Your situation… At your aunt and uncle… Do you think she told him?”
There was a quick blush on his cheeks, embarrassment no doubt, for being caught. Severus
knew that feeling quite well. He still remembered how mortified he had been the first time
Lily had seen his father slapping him across the face. And every time since.
“She apologised for giving me a miserable time but said that it was needed otherwise the
Dursleys would never have let me come if they’d thought I enjoyed it.” He replied and
Severus grabbed the edge of the sink a bit too strongly. “She knew. She must have told him,
right?”
“If her job was to report to him… Then yes, she must have.”
“Professor…” Harry began, “You said Voldemort lied. When he told me that mum only
begged to spare Hermione, that was what you meant, right?”
Merlin this boy. Deprived of love since the tragic demise of his parents, Rita Skeeter had
written. And for once in her pathetic life, hadn’t she written the truth?
“Yes.”
“Why was Hermione saved?” He asked, why wasn’t I?, he heard.
“I didn’t know Hermione was mine at first.” He began as he poured tea for both of them. He
sat on a chair at his dining table, the boy sat across from him and reached for the mug that
was handed to him. “I was a true Death Eater as any other at that time, I’m certain that if
events had been different, your mother wouldn’t have told me the truth.”
“Why did she?”
“I overheard a prophecy.” He said. He wouldn't tell the contents of the prophecy, because he
had learned his lesson the first time. “Not in its entirety, just a piece of it, but I told
Voldemort what I had heard. Two people fit the prophecy. You and another boy. Voldemort
chose you. I turned the moment he decided to go after your mother.”
“You—” Harry swallowed and he watched as the boy worked his jaw. He could see clearly
what was going on in the boy’s mind: watching television from the cupboard’s door grilles,
endless and impossible chores, birthdays that went unnoticed… a lifetime of misery before
Hogwarts, when the cupboard was replaced by an actual bedroom, with bars on the windows
and more locks than Severus kept on his stocks, where cold food was shoved inside through a
cat flap.
“Every day since I’ve worked to correct that wrong.” He said and swallowing, much like the
boy had done, continued, “it is unforgivable and it made you orphan. I will pay for that until
my dying breath.”
“That's your reason.” The boy said.
“What?”
“I saw you meeting with Remus and the Malfoys. We couldn’t make sense of the group. After
the second task, Hermione told me about the conversation you two had and how you told her
about the Order of the Phoenix. You have your own thing because none of you trusts
Dumbledore or Voldemort, in the Malfoys’ case. I asked Remus’ reasons and the Malfoys’.
Hermione knew the answer to those, but she didn’t know yours. She didn’t know why you
had turned spy. Mum’s your reason.”
“She is.”
“So she told you then? Because you turned to Dumbledore once you learned he was coming
for me?”
“Yes. She wrote to me. She knew he would come for all of you. She and your father wouldn’t
let you go and both knew Voldemort is not merciful. The only way he could get to you was
by getting through them first. It wasn’t your mother who asked to spare Hermione, I did. I
told him she was mine and asked for her life.”
“So why did he tell me that?”
“I’m certain he has many reasons Harry, but the most important one is that Hermione
protected you that night, it wasn’t only your mother’s sacrifice. Hermione didn’t let go of you
when Voldemort cast the Killing Curse at you. There are many protective spells and some are
as mysterious as death itself, by lying to you, he intended to keep you from her and therefore
from her protection, should she still have it.”
“Why did you tell Dumbledore that you didn’t know about Hermione?”
“Before I tell you all of that, and I intend to do so, there’s something you need to promise me
first.”
“What?”
“You will let me teach you how to Occlude.” He replied, “I need you to be able to hide this
information because I’m not putting her life at risk.”
“Hermione told me she took weeks to learn.”
“And she’s still learning.” He replied, they had talked about this during one of their meetings,
how the boy should learn it before Voldemort realised he had a connection to the boy’s mind.
“To occlude your entire mind is a fine art, we can work on one memory at a time.”
Another owl flew in, and Severus cursed Albus’ perfect timing. The bird dropped the letter in
front of Harry before taking off.
The boy opened the envelope and pulled a small parchment from inside. “The Headquarters
of the Order of the Phoenix is at number twelve, Grimmauld Place. Go there at once Harry,
your godfather awaits you.” Harry read out loud.
Severus watched the boy. Harry looked at his things in the living room, at the mug in front of
him and the man across from him.
“I received a letter from Parkinson the other day, she said—” the boy snorted, “among many
other things, she told me that Hermione, Sirius and Remus had all been trying to write me but
their letters were being intercepted.”
“Yes. Dumbledore kept them so you wouldn’t feel restless by being apart. He instructed
Weasley and your godfather to not say anything important in the letters, when Black stopped
complying he stopped the letters.”
“I want to talk to my sister.” He said, his eyes back to the mantlepiece. “Can't she come to
Grimmauld Place?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“She doesn’t want to and she’s not exactly welcomed there since… The news.”
Harry nodded, he looked around one more time, and he asked, “Can't she come here? I want
to learn and I want to see her. And by what you told Dumbledore, I don’t think he will allow
me to go there, will he?”
“Definitely not.” He replied. Severus hesitated for just a moment before continuing, “I can
ask her.” He said.
Severus got up and put his mug inside the sink, he returned to the living room for another
Floo Call. He heard the sound of Harry putting his own mug inside the sink and washing both
of them. “Take your things to the second bedroom on the left. I will Floo Lupin.”
The boy nodded and grabbed his things, he waited until Harry disappeared down the corridor
before throwing the Floo inside.
“Remus Lupin.”
“Well, well, well.” Remus greeted and three other heads popped around him. Merlin. “If it
isn’t the kidnapper.”
Zabini and Nott snorted and Hermione rolled her eyes. “That was terrible.” Severus replied,
“Atrocious.”
“Is he there?” Remus asked.
“Yes.” He replied, “Albus finally told him the Secret. He wants him at Grimmauld Place.”
“Why hasn't he gone then?”
“He wants to talk to his sister.” He replied looking at his daughter. He saw her tense. “I told
him you won’t go to Grimmauld, but if you wish to talk to him you can come through.”
“I—” She stopped, for Harry had returned and was standing behind him. The boy looked
extremely awkward facing them. One month. One month and Voldemort managed to poison
their relationship. “Okay.”
“Pansy bit your head, didn’t she?” Theodore called with a smirk.
“She was lengthy, yes.”
The two boys on the other side snorted. Remus seemed to have pulled them back by the neck
of their shirts because they quickly disappeared from the fire.
“Harry, I don’t know what Severus has told you yet,”
“Not much.” The boy shrugged.
“You can also talk to me, okay? You say the word and I Floo through—”
“No, you won’t.” Severus cut him off.
Remus completely ignored him. “Write to your godfather, let him know you are staying there
a bit longer. Tell him you are talking to Hermione, he will appreciate hearing from you.”
More like he wouldn’t bite the boy’s head out from hearing the news. Severus would probably
get another punch in the face, and Remus would lose whatever ground he seemed to have
won with Black.
“Okay.”
“Can I come through, then?” Hermione asked, timid.
“Yes,” Severus replied.
“Okay. Just let me grab some things first.”
She disappeared from the call and he was left staring at the empty green flames. Remus had
stepped back as well, probably to go after her.
“That room is for her, isn’t it?”
Severus turned. The boy was all locked limbs and in discomfort.
“If she one day wants to have it.”
Harry looked away then, back to the mantlepiece. “That will be too much for her.” He said,
pointing to the pictures. “She didn’t tell me, but I noticed how she didn’t like looking at our
baby pictures.”
Severus gave a curt nod and with a flick of his wand, the portraits were all turned down.
Hermione was back and they heard Remus from behind her, “just throw it at the fire.”
Moments later, her backpack landed on his carpet. There was a familiar thud which only
meant she had packed more than one book. He allowed his face to show the fondness he was
feeling.
“Coming through.” She said and both Severus and Harry stepped back. She landed in his
living room and if Severus had a list, this moment would top the most awkward moments of
his life.
No one spoke and the Floo call was broken with Remus' loud snort from the other side.
Great.
Their awkwardness was interrupted by a double crack of apparition outside his front door.
Severus immediately pushed the pair of siblings behind him. It was a mere reflex because
none of his wards had alerted him of any danger, which meant it was probably Dumbledore.
“Open up, Snape!” Black’s voice called from the other side.
Amazing. Dumbledore andBlack.
He went to the door and had it barely opened when Black forced himself inside. “You are not
welcome when you are invited, what makes you think you can come unannounced?”
Black passed by him without a word, “Harry!” The man said.
Dumbledore had the grace to greet Severus, but his attention was quickly diverted upon
sighting Hermione in his living room.
“Hello, Miss Granger.”
“Headmaster,” she replied, shuffling from foot to foot.
Black had hugged his godson, who remained stock still. “Harry?” Black asked, “You all
right?”
But the boy was looking at Dumbledore, his eyes hard. “An entire month. You left me all
alone for an entire month.” He said and Black took a deep breath, taking hold of Harry’s
forearm. The boy pulled back and still glaring at Dumbledore, continued, “No letters, no
nothing!” He laughed then, meanly and nothing like him.
A curious expression flashed in Dumbledore’s eyes and Severus watched the scene carefully.
“Oh, my boy. I’m sorry—”
“I'm not a boy,” Harry replied, cutting Dumbledore off. Severus could almost feel the anger
emanating from him, “In a course of a few hours I had a friend die on my feet, I watched
Voldemort return while strapped to a tombstone, and I was tortured, mocked and lied to. I had
to fight Voldemort again and you sent me to the Dursley while you reactivated the Order? I
was there. Not you and not your spy. I was.”
“I know Harry,” Dumbledore replied. “And it’s because you went through all of that that I
believed you were deserving of a respite from all of that.”
Harry scoffed, and it was echoed in Black and Hermione. Dumbledore looked at the par. He
had no grip on them, Severus knew that, but it seemed that Dumbledore was only coming to
realise it. Or maybe… Maybe Dumbledore had always known, at least with Black, for he had
left Black behind, he had left him in Azkaban, never bothered to mention that Sirius Black
might have been innocent. Because he knew Black was not one to be controlled.
Sirius Black out of Azkaban would never have allowed Harry to stay with his aunt and uncle,
and the Boy-Who-Lived would have actually lived, not merely survived. Harry would have
known love, not in the shape of sacrifices and death. Harry wouldn’t have stuck with the first
two people who spoke to him on the very first train ride, he wouldn't have been so easily
brought to the Weasleys and sheltered there. But most importantly, Harry wouldn't feel like
his own purpose was his importance to the war.
Dumbledore needed Remus Lupin because he wanted the werewolves, that was the price of
Remus’ education and normal life, and that was the only reason Dumbledore still kept him in
the inner circle despite knowing full well that Remus’ loyalty wasn't to him anymore.
But Sirius Black had always been wild. And with legal rights over the boy. If Black weren’t
so set on avenging James’ and Lily’s deaths, he could grab the boy and go, leaving all of
them behind. And Dumbledore wouldn’t have that, not with that bloody prophecy.
Severus looked at Hermione, whom Dumbledore had promised answers but hadn’t bothered
with any. Because he now knew the girl didn’t have Lily’s blood anymore and consequently
didn't have her shield anymore. Just like Black, his daughter was a wild card and expendable.
“I deserved answers.” He replied, “I deserved a chance to speak with my sister.”
"You wrote?” Hermione asked, her voice barely a whisper.
“Of course, I did.”
“He’s my family, you had no right,” Hermione said.
“I’ve heard you had a tumultuous summer so far, hadn’t you Miss Granger? You were at the
Malfoys, I couldn’t risk sensitive information getting into the wrong hands.”
Hermione didn’t miss a beat, “I was at the Malfoy for five days.” She said, “and sensitive
information? I wanted to address the fact that Harry and I don’t share a father, which is
hardly sensitive information as it was divulged to twelve people at once.”
Merlin, this girl.
Black shot him a look, it was brief, but the words behind it were clear: She has your tongue
Yes, he was aware.
“Well, my apologies. It seems that in my old age I don’t understand the heart of the young as
easily as I once did.” Dumbledore said and turned back to Harry, “Harry? Ready to go?”
Black nodded excitedly, “Where is your stuff? Snape didn’t leave it behind now, did he?
Hedwig?”
“I have my things and I sent her to go somewhere safe.” Harry replied, “I didn’t know I was
coming here. She might be at the Weasleys or Grimmauld already.”
“She's with us.” Hermione replied, “She arrived a bit before Sirius told us that Severus had
kidnapped you.”
“I didn’t kidnapped him.” Severus said with a long sigh, “I asked first.”
“Very well.” Dumbledore said, which was his version of ‘that's enough I want things my way
now’. “Your things and off we go.”
Harry looked at Hermione and then at Severus, who nodded briefly. “I want to stay.” He said
quickly, “just for a bit longer.” He added, for Black had dropped his jaw on Severus’ rug.
“What?” He asked. Dumbledore simply waited.
“As I said, I want to talk with Hermione and since she can’t go to Grimmauld Place…”
“Of course she can,” Dumbledore replied with a smile. “You are more than welcome to stay
there.”
“I'm not leaving Theo and Blaise, can they come too?” She asked, knowing full well that they
couldn’t.
He smiled again, “That won’t be possible Miss Granger, not when we can’t be certain of their
allegiances.”
“And why is that?” She retorted, “is it because they are Slytherin? Or is it because Theo’s
father is a Death Eater?”
“You trust your friends, it’s very admirable of you.”
“So it’s settled then?” Harry interrupted. “I will talk to Hermione and then I will go.”
“Harry…” Dumbledore started, “It's not safe.”
“I'm not going to walk around the village! I want an hour with my sister. That’s the only thing
I’m asking.”
“Okay kiddo,” Sirius replied with a pat on his forearm, “you are right.” Suddenly, the Master
of Good Sense. Well, well, well, wasn't he really a dog with a collar?
Dumbledore wasn’t pleased, that was clear. “You may stay,” he began, “but we need to talk
about your return to your aunt and uncle before the term returns.”
“Snape said I could stay.” The boy said.
“Professor Snape,” He corrected.
“Hermione literally just called you Severus,” he said with a roll of his eyes.
And since Severus wasn’t a fifteen-year-old boy, he didn’t roll his eyes back. "Hermione is
literally my daughter.”
Black snorted. Severus had had enough. “Potter, show Hermione to the room. I need to talk to
Albus.” The boy looked a bit panicked, probably thinking Severus was about to tell
everything he had seen at that house. He wouldn’t. Not a length, anyway.
The boy sighed and tugged his sister, “don’t freak out.” He told the girl as they disappeared
down the corridor.
Once he heard the door close behind the pair, he returned his attention to Albus and Black.
“Firstly, he’s not in danger here.” He began, “this house might not be under the Fidelius, but I
am throughout with my wards. And second, you’ve risked a lot keeping them apart this
summer Albus.”
“I don’t doubt your measures Severus, and that wasn’t a decision made on risks, from the
tension at the end of the year, I truly believed that some time apart might help them.”
“I find it curious how you insist on making the boy return to that woman’s house every year.”
“That woman is his blood. You are aware of the importance of Harry staying with his Aunt,
especially now with Voldemort’s return. The blood wards are—“
“Worth nothing if he risks starvation,” he scowled, his temper getting the best of him. Merlin,
if he had confirmation that Albus had been fully aware of the boy’s condition… “You wonder
why Lupin kept Hermione hidden from you, I can only appreciate his cunning now knowing
that there are no boundaries to your heartlessness, Albus. Petunia had a frying pan to his head
when I arrived and you want to send him to those people?”
“She had what?” Black asked, his voice levelled and his dark eyes flashing. That was a rare
look on him, Severus used to connect it with Regulus only. There had been an intensity to the
younger Black brother that Sirius Black never wore.
“Despite his difficulties, Harry has grown into a spectacularly brave and selfless young man,
he’s going to understand why it’s needed.”
His difficulties.
“He’s been fending from himself since before he could speak!” Severus snarled, Merlin how
did they come to the point of he was the one defending the boy? “He’s brave because he’s
never learned to trust an adult in his life!” He scowled, “Harry is selfless? Easy when you
keep showing him that his life has no worth other than being a soldier in your war!”
“Being her father doesn’t give you any right to call him by his first name.” Black spat. “Or to
speak of him as if you know better than anyone else.” He added, but the man was shaking,
clearly torn between Severus’ overstepping and Dumbledore’s inanition.
His wards alerted him that there was someone spying on the conversation. A small spell: the
keyhole charm. The siblings were spying through Hermione’s bedroom keyhole, but with the
view as if they were looking through the toilet door, which had a perfect view of the living
room.
Bloody hell Hermione. She had been in his house for not even ten minutes.
“I’ve been making sure he finishes every school year alive for the past four years.” Severus
retorted and because he was a Slytherin he would use what Hermione had given him, “it’s no
secret that I dislike James Potter, by calling Harry by his name I remember that he’s not his
father.” And because he now knew the boy was eavesdropping on the conversation, Severus
took the opportunity to get some points with the boy before their conversation, so he added,
“You do well to remember that too.”
“Don’t you dare speak to me on my godson.”
Severus sighed. Honestly, he was impressed by the wolf. It sure did require a lot of self-strain
to deal with Black. “I think we are done here.” He said, “Goodbye.” Severus pointed to the
door.
“I want him with me as soon as they finish talking.” Black snarled.
“Not a second longer,” Severus guaranteed.
It was awkward, to say the least. Hermione watched the small room. The single bed, the
pastel green on the walls, the empty bookshelf and the desk with an empty book holder.
There was even a small bed for a pet at the foot of the bed. She knew at once what this room
meant.
Curious, wasn’t it? She lost her bedroom at her parent's house and the one at the Malfoy
Manor but got one at Remus and this was hers if she wanted to have it.
And Hermione could picture it, the books she’d put on her desk - the ones she had grabbed
before coming - and which books she’d like to have on the bookshelf. Hermione went as far
as to think of the picture Severus had shown her, the one that came in Lily’s letter, she could
place it on the desk as well, keep it next to her.
It scared her, how quickly she was making adjustments in her head, when she still had to call
him father in her head. It was like her unconsciousness wanted, but she was being too
stubborn to accept it.
This room is yours.
You are in your biological father's house.
“Pansy wrote me.” Harry began, he was standing awkwardly next to the chair, neither of
them had sat down.
“We had to ask her once we found out about the letters.”
“She called me Henry through the length of it.”
Hermione smiled a bit, “What did she say?”
“The first two paragraphs were a wordy description of how much of an ass of a brother I
was.” He told her, “The next three were everything I should expect from her and your friends
if I kept that ‘pathetic display of only child brattiness’. Only then she decided to tell me
you’ve been trying to write. She also told me what happened at your parents and at the
Malfoys. And with Theo.”
“It's been pretty shitty.” She said, “Sirius too, has been difficult. He apologised a few days
ago, but it’s—” she sighed, “he messed up pretty badly. And so did you.”
“I tried to write Hermione.” He told her, “at first I didn’t know what to do and I was so angry
about everything that I ripped many letters before I sent one.”
“I sent so many letters Harry, so many.”
“I thought you didn’t care. I thought you had your Slytherin family and were fine with it.”
“You are my family. And you pushed me away.” She retorted, “you treated me like shit for an
entire week and refused to talk to me. Didn’t cross your mind that I was shocked as well?
That I had been lied to? Again?”
“Pansy said that I only see my problems and others don’t matter because I’m the Boy-Who-
Lived and the Only-Boy-Who-Matters.”
“Well, Blaise did tell her to do her worst.”
“Hermione…” He said then and finally made a move to sit on the bed, he patted the place
next to him. “I was angry at first and I was angry at you. As I said, I did write, but it was only
a few weeks ago.” He confessed and Hermione felt her eyes burning. “But this silence, forced
now as I realise, gave me some time to think, and I finally understand my anger at you. I
know it wasn’t your fault, that you didn’t know,” he snorted, “couldn’t know, really. I was
angry at mom, for not meeting my own expectations of the person I made her to be, but
mostly my anger was jealousy.”
“How so?” Hermione asked, her voice incredibly soft.
“That although we are siblings, I grew up with the wretched Dursleys while you grew up
with loving muggle parents. You always had a mum and dad; learning that your father was
Snape, with the summer that I had… it was like I had gotten the short end of the stick again,
because you got another dad while I still have none.”
“Harry, you have Si—”
“He’s my godfather, Hermione,” Harry said. “And I love that he’s my godfather, and that’s
what he is. He—” Harry sighed, “Sirius misses my dad very much.” And didn’t Hermione
know that? Merlin, the ever-present ghost of James Potter. “Sometimes it’s okay because I
miss dad too, but I didn’t know him. I don’t have all of these memories, these moments to go
back to and resent that he’s gone. I don’t remember what I’m missing, I just feel sad that he’s
gone. Because I know my life would be completely different if I still had my dad and I miss
that, you understand?” Hermione didn’t reply, she just nodded. “He looks at me and he sees
James and then I do or say something that makes him remember that I’m not James and then
I get sad and frustrated, even though I know I shouldn’t. Just now, when I said I wanted to
stay… There was this look… Almost as if he didn’t know me, because he keeps seeing my
dad and we all know my dad would never choose to stay here.”
“He wouldn’t be allowed to Apparate in the grounds,” Hermione said with a small chuckle.
Harry nodded, but he didn’t seem that much annoyed at the fact. He looked pensive. “You
don’t look like mum, you don’t look like him, so he must love you for you. I love Sirius, but I
don’t think he has learned how to love me for me.”
“I’m sorry Harry,” she said. “Sirius needs time and help, and it shouldn’t be on you.”
“It’s not your fault,” Harry said. “I’m sorry that I made it like it was. I really am, Hermione.”
The boy chuckled, “who would have thought, huh? I’m jealous because you have Snape as a
father.”
Hermione, when she spoke, was very quiet, “I thought it would be weird to be here, but I’m
surprised at how easy it is.” She said and still quietly, added “It’s awkward yes, our
conversation was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done, but at the same time… It
wasn’t? I don’t know, it’s awkward because he’s our Professor but at the same…”
“It feels like family,” Harry concluded. “That's how Sirius and Remus feel for me as well.
Simple. Meant to be.”
Hermione nodded, that was exactly how Remus and Sirius felt to her too, like she had a place
there with them, and even though it hurt now, it was a place that Harry had to occupy as well
to be right. And thinking about it… Severus felt like that for her as well. Their conversation
had been hard, but she found herself enjoying his company and after a few moments, they
had fallen into a comfortable rhythm.
She swallowed hard before adding, “But you know what, Harry? What surprises me and
weirds me out the most is the intensity of the feeling,” he gave her a small nod, “how much I
want this.”
“Don’t tell Ron. And Merlin, definitely don’t tell Sirius, but even though I dislike him most
of the time, I think Snape is great, specially with you.” Harry Potter said, and then added,
“and the bloody reason I’m still alive.”
Hermione felt her cheeks reddening. “Is it true? Did she have a frying pan to your head?” She
asked, Harry nodded.
He told her about what happened and how the Dementors came upon him and his cousin,
how he almost couldn’t get rid of them because he had been miserable and all of his happy
memories had been tainted by Voldemort. He told her of how Snape came and put himself in
the middle and Harry confessed that when Severus offered to take him, it never crossed his
mind to say no.
And this was the place Dumbledore wanted him to return to so badly. A house where Harry
would prefer to leave with Severus Snape, a man he truly disliked and as they now knew, was
the man their mother cheated with.
Hermione also told him about what happened on her end, she didn’t go into details with the
Malfoys, but she did tell him everything that was happening between Sirius and Remus. But
she didn’t tell him the rest.
She wasn’t the right person to do it and they all knew he could have better answers with
either Severus or Remus. Hermione smiled when Harry told her that Severus had offered to
teach him Occlumency, that he would tell him everything if Harry committed himself to
learn.
“I never understood the secrecy,” he told her, “why Remus didn’t tell us at first and then why
Snape lied to Dumbledore when he said he didn’t know, but… Dumbledore wants something
that neither of them wants, there’s more to what we know, that goes beyond Snape being your
father or what happened at Godric’ Hollow that night. Snape doesn’t look like he knows,
Remus clearly doesn’t from what you told me about his feud with Dumbledore.”
“And whatever that is,” Hermione continued because she had reached the same conclusion as
well. There was a desperation in Dumbledore to be sure that Harry returned to his aunt, that
Harry remained isolated during his summer, and that the people around him were also kept
isolated from one another. “I doubt that it’s any good.”
She stood up then, needing something to do. Hermione grabbed her backpack and with a very
deep breath and slightly shaking hands, she pulled the books from inside. Carefully, she
placed them on the book holder on the desk. She couldn’t say it yet, but she hoped he
understood: I’m taking this
“He has photos of you,” Harry said. “they are on his mantlepiece, I told him to turn it down
because I thought you would be weirded out.”
“He has?”
“Yeah, Remus gave him. And Narcissa.”
Hermione scowled, Narcissa was not a topic she would be so open for an explanation. She
looked at Harry, who still looked a bit awkward and out-of-place.
“I appreciate your apology and I’m thankful that you explained everything.” She began, “but
you hurt me, Harry. You tossed me aside - literally pushed me away - so easily… I would
never do that to you, I don’t think I could. If I had been in your shoes, you would still be the
person that I’d want close to me after learning this, you would still be my brother. Like I said,
I accept and appreciate your apology, but I can’t forgive you for how you treated me.” She
said and he looked away. “I had so many people do me wrong since the end of the term. But I
also had people who’ve been there for me and that’s what I deserve. I have always been by
your side. Unconditionally. Even when you were mad at me, even when you picked a broom
over me, even when I went behind my friends for you. I’m picking me now. I’d like for you
to pick me too.”
“Hermione, I do. I—”
“I don’t work with words anymore.” She said, “I had words all my life and they turned to be
for nought.”
“I will be the brother you deserve, Hermione. You will see.”
“I hope so.”
Chapter End Notes
Next chapter we will have a very long conversation between one Severus Snape and a
pair of siblings.
This is a Dumbledore-bashing story, I'm sorry if anyone you don't like or don't agree
with, but here he's a manipulative old man who only cares for those he can get
something out of (their loyalty).
I'm pretty sure I can get the next chapter next Friday, but no promises!!
The title and quote at the beginning belong to Simmer by Hayley Williams.
take off the mask, or else I’ll be left in the lie
Chapter Notes
First of all, I'm terribly sorry for the delay!! I had half of this chapter done one day after
the last update and then... BLANK. I couldn't for the life of me finish it, it was an
annoying writer's block that I fought with these past couple of weeks.
Anyway, thanks for all the lovely comments as always, I much appreciate all of them <3
The characters don't belong to me.
All have been led astray.

We’ve all fallen short in some way.
Please understand I’m ashamed.
and I beg of you, please find your grace.
‘Cause I’m not in a right state of mind.
I just wish I had strength to admit it.
Chapter Forty-Five
Severus Snape was thirty-five years old. He had become a Death Eater when he was only
nineteen, the same night he killed his drunk of a father. He had just turned twenty when he
found out he was a father. He had been twenty when he promised everything to Dumbledore
and turned spy. He had been twenty-one when he kidnapped his daughter. Severus Snape was
thirty-five years old and couldn’t, for the life of him, knock on the door in front of him.
He knew what he had to do, he knew he had to tell the boy the truth, and despite telling Black
that he no longer saw Harry as a living and breathing copy of James Potter, the boy was still
very much James’ son. And Severus had nothing good to say about the man, as he doubted
that Harry would find comfort in knowing Severus appreciated that Potter had at least tried to
give Lily the chance to run.
With a sigh, he knocked on the door.
“Come in,” they both replied and Severus braced himself.
The pair was sitting next to one another on the bed, both their backs against the wall and
while Hermione had the pillow hugged to her chest, Harry had his arms around his knees.
“Hi,” Hermione said awkwardly and Severus raised an eyebrow in confusion, she saw the girl
flush before she added, “They arrived before I could say anything.”
“Hello,” Severus replied with a small smile. He pointed to the chair across from them, “Do
you mind if I sit?” He asked and both of them shook their heads.
“Are they gone?” Harry asked.
“Yes. I told your godfather that you will be with him as soon as you finish your conversation.
Be it in half an hour or tomorrow, it’s up to you.” He said and the boy nodded.
Severus took his seat and at once he noticed the books. It was such a small thing, that in the
great scheme of things should have been insignificant, but he felt it anyway, the clench of his
chest and the twist of his heart. Hermione had placed Wuthering Heights, Jane Eyre and
Agnes Rey, one next to the other.
He almost decided to ignore it, to not make a deal out of it, but he figured it would be a good
opening, “I preferred Wuthering Heights to Jane Eyre, but your mother was a big Rochester
fan. I remember that we argued over it for the entire summer before our fourth year.” He said.
It was immediate, the boy perked and his green eyes widened a bit.
It dawned on Severus then, for all that Harry had heard of James Potter, no one had told him
about Lily Potter.
“How did—” he stopped and looked at his sister, who was already blushing, and matched the
embarrassment shown on her face, “You were friends with mum, then?”
Severus nodded. “I met your mother at the park just across the creek next to the house. She
lived with her parents on the other side of the Village.” Harry looked outside of the window,
in a childish wish to see something of his mother. “The annoying brats would call it the ‘nice
village’. Your grandparents were muggles, so she’d sneak to the park to do magic without
being caught.” Harry smirked, clearly pleased with the information, “One day, I was up in the
tree where she hid, and I saw her playing with a flower, making it float in the palm of her
hand.” Severus accioed a single daisy bud to his palm and showed them exactly what Lily
had done that day. He floated it to the boy’s palm and Harry held it, raw awe on his face. He
was about to enter his fifth year but this single bud seemed to be the most fascinating piece of
magic he had ever seen. “She was nine. I told her what she was and we became friends from
that moment on. We were each other’s first friends.”
“How was she like as a child?” The boy asked.
Even though his throat felt like sandpaper and every muscle of his body wanted to run and
hide, he forced the words out, “She was made of light. I don’t think anyone disliked her, no
one could,” he began, “but all that light was misleading, it usually blinded people, who only
believed her to be gentle and sweet, which yes, she was, Lily had the gentlest of hearts, but
she was more than that.”
“I don’t know anything about her.”
“I'm sorry,” Severus said, because it was the biggest tragedy of it all, that these two kids
never got to know Lily, that these two had the most amazing woman as a mother and neither
had the chance to be loved by her as they deserved, as she deserved. “I'm sorry everyone has
more memories of her than you, it’s not fair.”
The boy swallowed and Severus saw tears prickling in the corners of Harry’s green eyes.
“No, it’s not.” The boy replied. It’s your fault. Lily’s dead and it’s your fault.
“Lily was made of light, but for me, it was hard and unforgiving, the kind that blinds you
when you’ve been too long in the darkness, that makes you wince and look away, but also,
you find yourself adjusting to it. But she was also candlelight, warm and soft, small but
catching all the attention to itself, which made you want to whisper all your fears and lies.
Lily was light on a foggy day, without shadows, she offered no place to hide, no avoidance,
forcing you to come out as you were. She was my beacon of life just as much as she was the
fire of the Cave.”
“You loved her.”
Love. Could he use that word to exemplify everything that he felt for her? Was love the word
when Lily was where he began and where he ended?
“I didn’t deserve her.” He said instead. Because that was truth as any other. “She sorted
Gryffindor the same year your father and your godfathers sorted Gryffindor, while I sorted
Slytherin. We remained friends, despite all of her friends saying that she was better off, we
spent most of our time together and were partners in every class we shared, but—” he
scowled, that day was as vivid as if it had just happened, a constant nightmare that was real.
He looked at the boy, who looked exactly as James did when he was fifteen. It was so easy,
so goddamn easy to see the father in the son, to hear the laughter and the mockery, to
remember how James called out to everyone to see Severus hanging up from the upside
down. Merlin, it would be so easy to say it had been James. And maybe, maybe he would’ve.
If this conversation had taken place before, when the boy was still spoiled in his head,
entitled as he had so believed, or if the boy had been angrier or if Severus wanted to feel
vindicated. But now, now Black had shown exactly what rage and hatred could cause, his
daughter had been on the receiving end of it all and he had no wish to do the same to the boy,
not when James Potter had been dead for so long and would never get a chance to redeem
himself to his own son. Severus might not believe that the man deserved a chance, but the
boy did. For all of James Potter’s wrongs, the man had died for his wife and son, and that,
Severus could respect. So, he settled for: “I had been humiliated, embarrassed beyond belief
and your mother came to help, everyone was laughing and I hated that a girl needed to
protect me, I did the unforgivable, I called her the foulest word and she didn’t forgive me.”
“You called her a mudblood,” Harry said.
“I did.”
“But she forgave you in the end.” He wondered and the glance at Hermione was the
necessary cue to his meaning.
“It wasn’t forgiveness, not then. It was desperation. We were at war. She knew I had become
a Death Eater, Regulus had just died, and I guess even though we hadn’t spoken since we
were sixteen, she wanted me out, she didn’t want me to have the same end that he did.”
“Who's Regulus?” He asked.
Severus blinked. That was something that didn’t fall on him. By Hermione’s expression, she
seemed to know exactly who Regulus had been, and he got his confirmation because she
said, “He was Sirius’ brother, I think he’d prefer to tell you about his brother.”
Harry just nodded and Severus thanked the gods for his daughter, for the hat calling out
Slytherin all those years ago. She knew. Remus must have told her. Hermione knew not only
who Regulus was but also who he had been to James.
But who was she covering for? Remus? Harry’s memory of James? Severus himself?
“He was one of my best friends, but as Hermione said, he’s someone you should ask your
godfather about.” Severus told the boy, who nodded again, “As I was saying, it wasn’t
forgiveness. But we met, only once, after Hogwarts and before her wedding. It was your
grandmother’s death anniversary. We used to go together to talk to her, but after our fallout,
Lily would go alone, I didn’t dare to approach her, even though I still went to pay my
respects. I think Lily knew that I went because she found me there that day. We were both
desperate for different reasons.”
“Did my father know?”
“I don’t know. The only thing I got from Lily after that was the letter which told me
Hermione was mine. If she got around to telling your father, I don’t know.”
Harry nodded again, “You said Remus gave you the photos, so he not only knew where
Hermione had been all these years, but he knew the entire truth?”
“Yes.” He said and just like he did with Hermione, he told the boy everything that happened
from the moment he got Lily’s letter. Harry was quiet throughout it all, even Hermione, who
had already heard it, seemed to be paying attention to him.
“Why are you still lying to Dumbledore?”
“When I realised my mistake, I asked for his help and his price was high. I knew that if Albus
had known about Hermione, he—”
“He had a price to help my mother?” Harry cut him off and the boy’s eyes flashed.
It was such a simple question, but it took him a fifteen-year-old boy to voice it for Severus to
realise that yes, Albus Dumbledore offered to protect Lily Potter but only if Severus served
him instead. Severus looked down. Suddenly, he couldn’t bear to look at the boy any longer.
“Why—” Harry’s voice cracked, “why is it so hard to save me?”
Severus’ heart clenched painfully at that. He knew, Merlin he knew.
“It's not, Harry.” He said. Hermione was being very, very quiet, which Severus had already
learned that it meant she was very, very angry. “Your parents weren’t supposed to die. Taking
Hermione away—that was a secondary plan. You had a secondary plan. And that was Black
and Lupin taking you, but that went wrong for a multitude of reasons that you are aware of.
Every day since that night,” he paused and looked fixedly at the boy, trying to convey how
much he meant it, “every moment in that house where you spent suffering, that was on all of
us. Me, Dumbledore, McGonagall, the Weasleys, Black and Lupin, everyone who failed to
see.”
“You didn’t know—”
“But we should have.” Severus said, “Someone should have checked on you. We failed
here.”
He knew that wasn’t enough, that it was nowhere near enough, but Harry nodded anyway. “I
don’t like it.” He said, “I don’t like that you are her father, not because it’s you, but because
my mum—” he stopped, and worked his jaw, Severus knew the word the boy didn’t want to
say. Cheated. “I don’t like not knowing whether my father died and he never got to know.”
“I understand.”
“But I told Hermione, I want to do better, she is my sister regardless of all of this.” He looked
at Hermione, whose expression was now carefully blank. He looked back at Severus, “Are
you going to teach me Occlumency?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” And with a sigh, “thank you for getting me out of there.” Severus only nodded, but
the boy was still going, “and what you said to Dumbledore and Sirius, about making sure I
finish the year—Thank you, Professor. I know about the broom with Quirrel, anything else, I
—just thank you for keeping me alive.”
“Don’t." He said. It was chilling to hear the words because every syllable in Harry's sentence
told Severus how much the boy didn’t believe that one would. However, it didn’t change the
fact that those words, a measly ‘thank you' could lift a weight so heavy from his chest. He’d
never wondered how it would feel like because it never crossed his mind that it could happen,
he never believed that one day his efforts would be recognised, appreciated. Merlin knew
Albus had yet to thank him.
Albus still thought that the second chance he offered fifteen years old was still greater than
everything Severus has done. To hear Potter, part of the reason why he turned spy - before he
knew Hermione was his -, maybe he’d get penance after all.
In the end, the pair stayed the night, Severus conjured another bed and cast a stasis that
would hold the Geminio spell comfortably at least until morning.
He set to write to Black, politely as he could - which mainly meant that he wasn’t being
sarcastic - to tell him he would start teaching the boy Occlumency and that they should find a
way to do it behind Dumbledore's back.
…
Severus Snape was like the four thousand pieces puzzle that Hermione and Theo had been
working on, not because it was extremely difficult to put the pieces together, but because the
more she looked at it, the more she saw and the more she understood.
Harry had gone to Grimmauld after breakfast, which had been a quiet and awkward affair.
Now that they were done with the heavy topics, neither of them knew how to make small
talk. She knew Harry had wanted to ask more questions about his mother, but he hadn't
known how. Hermione had wanted to try, but she also hadn't known how. She didn’t mention
the series of pictures that were turned down on the mantlepiece, but she kept stealing glances
at them, wondering which pieces of her life he had been privy to without her knowledge.
She lingered at the Floo after Harry disappeared, her backpack on her shoulder.
“Did you get your books?” He asked, and Hermione shook her head.
“I will have to come back another time for them.” She replied and she knew that her cheeks
were red, but Severus would never comment on it, not when he was treating her oh so
carefully.
“I would like that.” He said
“I—Am I going to see you before the term begins?” Hermione asked, she knew he was going
to teach Harry Occlumency, but that was going to take place in Grimmauld Place where she
wouldn’t go.
There was something in his eyes, quick and gone with a blink of Occlumency. Severus has
always, every single day for the past fifteen years, seen you as his daughter and loved you
like one. The words Narcissa gave her had stuck. Hermione knew that he loved her, it was
clear now with the way he was being delicate with her. “Nneka is coming to visit her son in a
few days and she will be bringing some exotic ingredients that might be useful for a potion
that I’m trying to create. I could show you if you so wished.”
Hermione nodded eagerly. Blaise had shown her pictures of where his mother was currently
living and it was amazing. She could only imagine the types of plants and herbs that one
could find there in the tropics. And Severus was trying to create a potion? She would love to
see it, she could bet that the entire process was amazing. “Yes, I’d love to.”
He gave her a small smile, “I will write to you, then.”
“Thank you.” She replied, “see you, then.”
The remaining week passed by without further problems or interruptions: Harry was writing -
he had his first Occlumency lesson two days later to which he wrote ‘remember when I said
Snape was great? I meant a great pain in the ass and Hermione guessed the tutoring was
going swimmingly -, Sirius had come to visit once after Harry’s trial and it felt like the entire
house was walking on eggshells. But had been okay, as there were no more screams and no
more fights - maybe because for the majority of the time Sirius turned into Padfoot and
remained as a dog with his snout on Remus’ thigh as they watched a movie.
Nneka came exactly one week later and Hermione watched mother smother son while
vowing to make the two responsible pay. She didn’t seem too worried that the focus had been
on Theo and not on Blaise.
And for someone who had previous five husbands die mysterious deaths, Hermione didn’t
want to be anywhere near to see what the woman could do. Blaise’s mother was everything
that Blaise was but more: More beautiful, more powerful, more imposing and more
captivating. She seemed to know so much and was so interested in so many things. Nneka
Zabini wasn’t a woman who was scared to find the answers to all of her questions and
clearly, would go after them wherever they might be.
Once she grew satisfied that her son was safe - she also patted Theo and pulled him into a
hug -, Nneka gave both boys enough money for them to buy their school supplies for the year
and some extra. Theo didn’t like the idea much at first, but he liked it even less when Remus
offered to cover for him. There was no Nott tapestry in Theo's living room to burn his picture,
but the Gringotts letter he received had the same effect. Theodore Nott was no longer an heir
to his family’s fortune.
Theo had shrugged it off and said he’d willingly give the name away if he could, but still,
Remus had written Sirius and the pair of shunned Sacred-Twenty-Eight spent an entire
afternoon practising firing hexes on trees.
Since Sirius was the one with experience on the topic, she had let him deal with it.
But still, money was a problem they had to do something about. They had seen how empty
Remus’ pantry got at the end of the month. It was clear that the Order salary wasn’t enough
to feed four mouths, especially when the mouths were three teenagers and a werewolf. Later,
after Sirius had left, the three of them gathered in Hermione’s room to devise a plan. Remus
was giving too much and it was costing him, but he was a bleeding-heart Gryffindor and
would starve before telling them he couldn’t afford to have them around for the summer.
Hermione had the money she got from Lucius and Blaise was filthy rich, arguing that his
mother could pay for them because she was swimming in money and it wouldn’t make a
difference. Theo agreed. The next time they went grocery shopping Hermione and Blaise
accepted the money Remus gave them and when the man was away, they put it back where
they’d seen him take it from.
Remus had yet to notice or if he had, he had yet to tell them. Hermione watched as Theo
accepted the money and wondered if she would find herself somewhat in a similar position
soon enough. Of course, it wasn’t a fair comparison, as Hermione’s parents had never been as
rich as Theo’s family, but what if her parents didn’t forgive her? She would have to support
herself. Harry had the Potter’s vault, could she use it as well? After all, James wasn’t her
father. And Professor Snape? She’d been to his house, he didn’t look like he had much
money either, would he take that responsibility too, if it was necessary? He was her father,
but how much of the part he’d play from now on?
Hermione decided she’d do some budgeting with the money she’d gotten from Lucius’ deal
just in case. How far would that take her if she needed to support herself from now on?
Nneka’s continuous smothering brought her back from the sudden accounting, “—Write to
me if you need anything, don’t forget to tell me if your sheets are of that awful quality again
and I will send you new ones. I have to meet with Sev now but I will be inland for two more
days before I Floo back. My project there is almost over.”
“Are you going to come back home after?” Blaise asked.
“If all goes well, I will have a teaching position at Castelobruxo in January, that’s when they
start their term there, so you will have to come to visit for Christmas this year.”
The boy nodded and Hermione tried to make sense of what she was saying. Why would she
want a teaching position in a magical school in South America if she was already a tycoon?
Her products were unmatched in the UK and Hermione had heard enough about the boys’
trips to Italy to know that she also had the biggest magical winery across the canal. The
second part of the Zabini fortune wasn’t so relevant for the British wizarding world because
as Blaise had once put ‘what can you expect from the people who drink Butterbeer non-
ironically? They have no taste.’
They had three visitors a few hours after Nneka’s departure: the Hogwarts owls. They all
perched on the window, looking important. Hermione squealed, it was their school list and
hopefully for her, the Prefect’s position.
Remus smiled at her reaction and was the one to retrieve the letters from the owls’ legs. His
smile dropped a bit once he had the three envelopes in his hands and he frowned before
handing Hermione her envelope.
His reaction made her weary and she opened her letter with hesitation. There were only two
pieces of parchment inside. Her heart fell.
“Are you for real now?” Theo asked, his brows furrowed and he was glaring at Hermione’s
envelope as if it was an offence to him as well.
“I didn’t get it.” She said with a small voice. Hermione refused to cry over it but she couldn’t
help but feel cheated.
She didn’t get Prefect.
“That’s impossible,” Blaise said, grabbing the letter from her and inspecting the contents
himself. “You are not only the best student in our year, but you are in the whole school.” He
said after confirming that yes, there was no Prefect badge inside. “It literally makes no
sense!” He was waving the supply list that she had yet to check. She pulled from his hand
with trembling fingers.
“There has to be a mistake.” Theo said, “no one deserves it more than you.”
Hermione shrugged and she looked at Remus with hopeful eyes. “They usually come with
the letter, but with everything that has happened, maybe it’s late?” He said, but she knew the
truth. She hadn’t got it. Someone else had gotten her Prefect badge.
“Ask Professor Snape, he—”
“I’m not talking to Professor Snape about every single thing just because he happens to be
my father as well as my Head of House!” Hermione snapped and with a little bit more anger
than she had realised, stomped to her room.
Hermione sat on her bed, there were only two new titles for the year, the Standard Book of
Spells, Grade Five and Defensive Magical Theory, which she assumed was for the new
Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. She opened her trunk at the foot of her bed and
picked up her now old journal, the one where she used since her first year to write down all
the points awarded and deduced. No one in Slytherin was awarded more points than her, they
might have lost the House Cup in the past four years, but she had single-handed put Slytherin
in the hundreds. Her notes took pages and pages, from small one-to-five points to big ones,
like the time she got fifty points in her first year or when McGonagall gave her thirty points
for her blue flames. Her deductions were there as well, from Severus, McGonagall and
Trewlaney.
From school points to grades, Hermione had beaten everyone continuously, she tutored
students two, sometimes three years older than her. No one had worked as hard as she had.
Theo had been right, she deserved it.
She was still glaring at her journal when Remus knocked on her door. The unshed tears
burned in her eyes, but he forced a smile in his direction. He sat down next to her, even
though his monthly transformations made that a difficult task. “It's okay to be upset, cub. You
worked really hard for that, it should have been yours.”
Hermione sniffed, “I don’t understand why I didn’t get it.” She replied, “the other options are
Pansy and Daphne and they are nowhere near me in terms of points or grades.”
“I know,” he replied and removed something from his pocket, it was a Prefect pin, but red
and golden. It was his badge. “I wasn’t top of my year, by all means, it should have been
James, he was the obvious choice, but Dumbledore hoped that by making me Prefect I’d
somehow reign in James and Sirius, which didn’t happen of course, but still, it served a
purpose.” He pinned his badge on her t-shirt and changed it to Slytherin colours.
“No, I don’t—it’s yours and—“
“I know. And it won’t change anything at Hogwarts, but I think you should have it. The
recognition of your hard work.”
“Thank you.”
Remus patted her head and then slid his hand to cradle her face, “I'm sorry everything’s been
shitty to you lately and I’m sorry I’m partial to blame.”
This time she couldn’t keep the tears in, “This was the one thing they understood,” she cried,
“there are Prefects in the muggle world, my mum was one at her school, I was hoping I could
write to them telling and maybe they’d—” a sob cut of the rest of her sentence and Remus
pulled her closer and held her.
“They forgive you, Hermione, they don’t need you to be a Prefect for that.”
“So why does it feel like I lost them?”
“Because it hurts really bad now.”
"Tell me it gets better” she cried on his chest.
“It does Hermione, it gets better.”
She didn’t know whether to believe him or not, because Remus wasn’t the biggest example of
life improvement. He looked better and happier than when he taught them, but he still carried
a long coat of sadness around. But she nodded and decided to make it get better. She’d write
her parents again, she’d write Narcissa and demand an explanation, Merlin, she’d corner
Draco and shake some sense into him.
She’d keep working hard, Prefect or not, she’d get the best O.W.L.S ever scored in Hogwarts
and would make Dumbledore regret not having picked her.
But first, she needed to pick the new books, refill her ink pots, buy more parchment and
maybe get a new glove for Hagrid’s class.
“When can we go to Diagon Alley?” She asked, deciding to change the subject and cut the
wallowing.
“I really don’t want to let the three of you go by yourselves after what happened to Theo, but
—”
“We are going to be fine,” Theo said, his brown curls appearing in the doorway. Blaise
appeared right behind him. “It’s not like the common people believe that You-Know-Who is
back and since he hasn’t made any move to prove his return, I don’t think Diagon Alley is
going to be a problem.”
Remus sighed, “Well, don’t lurk there. Let’s discuss this.” He said. The boys sat on Harry's
bed and Hermione moved to sit on her own with Remus. “I’m leaving to deal with a
werewolf pack up north tomorrow and because the moon is approaching, I will probably
spend it with them, so I won’t be able to go with you.” Hermione frowned and her expression
was matched by Theo’s. They really hated when Remus met with the other werewolves as he
often appeared with some knock or bruise even though they hadn’t been close to the moon,
but spending it with them… No, Hermione really didn’t like it. “You are all old enough that
you can go by yourselves, but I'd prefer if an adult went with you just in case.”
“Mum is going back to South America in two days and I’m certain that she would detest
spending her remaining time in Britain in Diagon Alley,” Blaise said.
“I can write Pansy and Daphne to ask when they are planning on going with their parents.
Maybe we can go together?” Hermione suggested.
“Pansy is probably going by herself as well, with her parents living in Merlin-Knows-Where
now,” Theo said and made a face before continuing, “Harry is going with the Weasleys,
right? Maybe we could coincidently go on the same day? And since Sirius needs to work on
his redemption arc he can chaperone.”
Remus snorted but seemed to agree with the idea. “I’m going to ask him and make him aware
of the goals of his presence.” He got up from the bed and with a last squeeze of Hermione’s
shoulder walked out of the door.
Once Hermione could hear the sound of cabinets opening and closing in the kitchen,
Hermione went back to her trunk to put the badge Remus had given her and to pull
something else from the insides.
“Theo, remember what I showed you last term?” She asked and showed him the jar, which
was now covered with a piece of cloth.
“You still have it?” He asked and his blue eyes were wide.
“What is that?”
“I might have forgotten all about it until some weeks ago, but it’s still alive!!” She said and
removed the cloth, revealing the beetle she had captured months ago. With sudden attention,
the insect flew around the small jar and tried yet again to knock against the glass.
“What is that?” Blaise asked again, now with disgust in his voice.
“That is Rita Skeeter,” Hermione said proudly and the beetle went crazy with the information
being divulged. “At the end of the year, I finally discovered how she was getting her scopes
and writing about private conversations. It took me quite a while to finally capture her.”
“You turned her into a beetle?” Blaise asked and he seemed a bit alarmed.
“Of course not! She is one. An animagus. An unregistered at one. Which I checked,” she told
the glass with a smirk, Hermione could swear the insect trembled.
“So you’ve kept a person—Rita Skeeter—in a jar for almost two months in beetle form?”
Blaise asked and he was looking at her like she was insane. Hermione grew uncomfortable.
“I bet she learned her lesson,” Theo said. “She caused both Hermione and Harry so much
grief last year with everything she wrote or did you forget she accused Hermione, a minor,
mind you, of being in an incestuous relationship? And called her a whore!”
“Of course, I didn’t,” Blaise said, “but—”
“Being an unregistered Animagus gives you time in Azkaban, I’m pretty sure spending a
couple of months in a lovely jar such as this one is a better experience than sitting in a cold
miserable cell with Dementors.” Theo retorted and Hermione shot him a grateful smile.
“And that’s a good point.” She said, “because of course I don’t intend to keep her in a jar. I
have no time for another pet this year, we have our O.W.L.S!” Blaise only looked at her like
that wasn’t a very good point. “I thought we could take her to Diagon Alley and set her free
there, this way we don’t need to explain to Remus why we suddenly have a Weekly Witch
journalist in our living room.”
“Merlin, you both are—” Blaise shook his head and whatever he thought of them remained
unsaid. “What are you going to do?” He asked instead.
Hermione put the cloth back and tucked it deep into her trunk, so Rita wouldn’t overhear her
plan.
“I thought about renting a room at the Leaky, just because it’s impossible to Disapparate from
the rooms, so we can make sure she doesn’t flee upon freedom, but I also considered
Gringotts, I mean, one of the vaults, as they are also protected with Anti-Apparition wards.”
“You actually put thought into it.”
“Of course!” She replied, “I kidnapped a journalist! I can’t simply set it loose, can I?”
“I believe the point is: you shouldn’t kidnap others.”
“Well, that’s done.” Theo said with a shrug, “I’m sure Hermione will take it into
consideration next time. I, however, prefer the Leaky option. We would have a hard time
explaining to the goblins why three underage wizards are going inside a vault and then
leaving with a fourth person. However, in the Leaky Cauldron, no one will bat an eye to her
presence there.”
“That's a good thought.” Hermione agreed. “My plan is to get the room, lock it, have our
wands trained at her, disarm her as quickly as possible and present the threats.”
“Threats? As in plural?”
“You are not being very supportive, Blaise.” Theo pointed out.
“Oh, I’m sorry Love, I apologise for not taking kidnapping, imprisonment and coercion in
stride.” Blaise retorted a bit too sarcastic for Hermione’s tastes.
“Look, I planned to set her free once we got back to London, but with everything that
happened in my life, I simply forgot that I had her.” She said, “at least she’s not harmed.”
Blaise rolled his eyes and Theo snorted. “I think it was brilliant. But it would be better to set
her free sooner than later, someone ought to miss her, right? How come no one is missing
poorly written, lies-filled pieces of journalism?” Hermione chuckled and nodded.
“I just want her to quit writing bullshit about me or my brother. As long as she keeps her nose
out of our business, we don’t tell the authorities she’s an unregistered Animagus.”
“Sounds reasonable,” Theo said.

Blaise didn’t look like it sounded reasonable, but he refrained from commenting.
“I'm certain the three of us can deal with her. Right? Blaise?”
“Of course.” He said and with a shake of his head, chuckled in disbelief. “I think you can ask
me to hide a body and I will say yes.”
She grinned widely at him. “That's good to know!” She said excitedly and Blaise’s immediate
reaction was to gape at her, "But won’t be necessary! Like ever!”
“Fucking hell Hermione,” Blaise muttered while Theo roared in laughter.
On the next morning, Remus said his goodbyes and promised to return in time for their train
back, he hugged the three of them and Hermione pretended not to notice that Theo squeezed
Remus a bit too strongly. “I trust the three of you to behave and not bring the house down.
Sirius will show up in a day or two, if only to whine that he’s not with me during a full moon,
but throw a ball and make him fetch to distract him—” the boys snorted at that, “but I truly
expect this to be done with sooner than later.”
“Okay,” the trio replied.
“You know how to reach me,” he told her and she nodded, but her expression probably
betrayed how worried she already felt. “I will tug to let you know I’m okay.”
And then he was gone.
“I feel it would be a bit anti-climatic now to throw a party,” Blaise said and they snorted.
Voldemort was quiet. Since Harry’s near expulsion, Severus hadn’t received any other calls.
He wished that could make him feel less on edge, but if anything, it only made it all worse.
Dumbledore too was quiet. It was almost like now that Harry was at Grimmauld, he couldn’t
find time in his schedule to attend the Order meetings. At least that, helped him and Black
hide Harry's Occlumency lessons from the man.
And Merlin, what a task it was to teach the boy Occlumency. It wasn’t that Harry was inept at
the skill, it was clear that the years of trauma and neglect at his aunt and uncle made him
well-versed in the skill of secluding memories, but in counterpart, Harry felt everything to the
bone. His emotions were all over the place. He was angry and he was depressed, he felt guilty
and wronged. And despite their current standing, he wasn’t much willing to let Severus enter
his mind and wade through his thoughts.
Not that he made a habit out of it. Most of their training so far had been exercises to calm
one’s mind and clear it. They needed to find something that worked for the boy, nothing that
resembled too much Severus’ style because it would be a clear giveaway where Voldemort to
take an excursion inside. Narcissa’s style was also too risky, the Blacks were famous for the
mental arts, and it had a clear signature.
He had explained it to the boy and shared that they had to find something that worked
together. But neither Severus nor Harry knew how to work together, only against one another.
It was jarring but necessary; for once, the boy seemed committed to learning.
Less stressful, however, was Nneka’s company, which Severus had to admit that it was more
than pleasant. She had brought so many things with her that Severus was impressed how no
one at the International Floo Arrivals hadn’t stopped her. She stayed for the remaining of her
trip and showed him some truly impressive plants. There was something called Barbatimão,
which was highly antibacterial, anti-inflammatory, antiseptic, as well as helpful with scarring.
She showed him how the muggle natives used it as tea, but how they could use the plant for
magical purposes. Another, called Copaíba, was used to promote wound healing, provide
pain relief and treat a wide variety of infections, including bladder infections, gonorrhoea,
and strep throat. It was a thick oily-like resin taken from the trunk of its namesake tree. But
his favourite was something called Guaco, an anti-inflammatory and antioxidant plant with
bronchodilator and expectorant effects, but not only that but it was also known as snake herb,
for it could be used as a poultice to treat bites from snakes or other venomous animals, such
as scorpions, centipedes and spiders, inhibiting their toxic effects.
Since Severus was in the presence of a very big snake, having something to use against it was
a necessity. And Merlin, Nneka had come packed. She had collected venom from all of the
most venomous species in South America, and Severus now had a vial from four different
species. They didn’t know which species Nagini was, as the animal seemed too big to be
anything known and Voldemort used it too threateningly to be a python, which was known
for being non-venomous.
Severus was already impressed, but when she opened her briefcase which vaguely reminded
him of Hermione’s extension spell, he was truly gobsmacked. She removed a plethora of jars,
all with live animals inside.
They did more than just brew, cut plants, extract venom and isolate poison, but for scholars
such as them, there was more pleasure to be found in their discoveries than in anything else
that happened outside of his lab.
He wrote to Hermione once Nneka left, having received a previous letter from Lupin
informing him that he would be leaving the three teenagers at the house for a few days and
wouldn’t be needing the month’s Wolfsbane. He refused to have both Nott and Zabini under
his roof, as some privacy was still much appreciated. And since they were not yet in the
school year, it wasn’t his responsibility to watch over what two fifteen-year-old boys did.
Hermione arrived early morning on a Wednesday, two days before she was to take the train
back to Hogwarts. Severus appreciated that September 1st this year fell on a Friday, which
gave him two more days before the lessons started.
“Good morning,” he greeted when she stepped out of the Floo. The awkwardness was still
there, in those first moments of each other’s presence, but he tried to ignore it. “Did you have
breakfast? I was about to eat.” Usually, Severus started his day much earlier, having had
breakfast around six, but he figured that having a late breakfast - for his standards - was a
good opportunity to break any lingering awkwardness.
“I don’t think Blaise’s burnt eggs count as breakfast, so I’d like that.” She said with a small
smile.
“Fortunately, cooking is much similar to Potions, so I can often achieve something better than
burnt eggs.” He said as he floated the dishes over to the table.
She saw the food on the table and sat down across from him, “I do enjoy the good old fry-
up,” she said. “But fruits are so often forgotten in Hogwarts that this feels like a nice
goodbye.”
He nodded, Hogwarts food was too greasy in his opinion, despite a long-standing joke on
him, he wasn’t much of a fan of grease. He watched as Hermione helped herself to some
grapes and strawberries alongside the so-called fry-up.
Severus inquired about her last couple of weeks, to which he learned that Harry was holding
constant correspondence, Remus and Black were in an odd place in their relationship and
while her mother had yet to speak with Hermione, her father had reached out to ask about her
summer and wish a good return to school. She had also started the year’s reading and found
the Defence material quite boring. Severus snorted, but let her know he felt quite the same.
Once finished, he moved the dishes away and showed her to his lab, where now stored many
exotic plants and animals. Not surprisingly, she went straight to the biggest glass. “It's so
beautiful!” Hermione said, her finger tracing the body of the snake through the glass. The
creature merely blinked at Hermione.
“It's a pit viper,” he explained, “but in Brazil, they call it Jararaca Verde due to its green
colour.”
“Is it venomous?”
“Deadly so.” He replied. “Its bite can cause injuries on the place of contact, such as
haemorrhage and necrosis, which in turn can lead to amputation."
“Why do you have it?”
“To study its venom. We don’t know what species Nagini is, it’s good to have a few options.”
He pointed to the vials behind the snake. This was only partially true because he and Nneka
had already found an interesting way to weaponise it into a potion. “Those are from other
species. Nneka was charmed by its beauty and decided to bring a living specimen.” He glared
at the creature, who seemed to notice him looking and hissed at him. “However, I haven’t
managed to come closer to it,” he drawled.
Hermione looked at him for a moment, curiosity in her expression, but she quickly chuckled
and said, “you know you can get Harry to ask it things, right?” Severus paused. It had
escaped his mind that the boy was a Parseltongue. “It’s probably scared, maybe he can talk to
it?”
Severus considered. How much would Sirius Black be displeased if Severus brought a snake
to his godson and ask the boy to talk to it? “Hm,” he said. It would be worth trying.
“And what are these?” She asked, moving to the other glass containers.
“These are the Amazonian Giant Centipede. They have paralysing venom, which, in small
doses, like a bite, is not deadly to adults.”
“But this many would be?” She asked as the jar had around a dozen of the creatures.
“For a muggle yes, a wizard not so much. It would, however, be a potent stunner.”
“But wouldn’t it be much easier to cast a stunner?” She asked, “you have to be in close
contact with the enemy to administer a potion. The wizard or witch has to be disarmed and
almost stunned so you can pour something into their mouths.”
“Not all wars are fought on a battlefield, Hermione.” He replied. “There’s a reason why spies
are not seen as heroes.” It pained him to say it, to give her ammunition to see the ugly parts
of his job. But he wanted his daughter to know all of him.
She nodded, and her eyes didn’t change, whether was occlumency or not, he couldn’t know,
but from her face, there weren’t any traces of disgust.
“I really dislike spiders,” she said instead, she didn’t get as close to the creatures as the other
two, “since Crouch’s class on Unforgivables, I get a chill from them.”
“They are powerful creatures, spiders. These here are the most venomous species on Earth.
They are called Armed Spiders, or Brazilian Wandering Spiders.”
“Why wandering?”
“They go hunting. They don’t wait for their prey to pall on their webs. Their venom is a
neurotoxin which is deadly even to adults.”
“You know about firearms, don’t you?” She asked and he nodded, curious about her line of
thinking.
“Curses often have counter curses and a skilled wizard can easily revert it, but these—” she
motioned to the animals, “can you imagine what bullets of these would cause?”
It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that Hermione would have a strategic mind. But it
surprised him that her strategies went to something quite lethal.
“Every shot would be deadly.” He replied.
Hermione nodded. “It’s something that I noticed when I read about Grindelwald, the height
of that war happened during the muggle World War Two and the muggles weren’t shooting to
disarm or to stun, they were shooting to kill, with bombs and tanks. Not that is right, of
course, but—the Killing Curse is Unforgivable, while there’s a multitude of hexes that are
straight-up torture that are allowed. I don’t know, sometimes I find the wizarding world to be
a bit more sadistic.”
“They are all very dark and only Dark Wizards use them.” He said, but he could see what she
was getting at. Severus had, after all, created one of the worst of them.
“I know, it’s just a thought.”
He nodded and they moved on to the plants, where he explained what they were and what
they did. Severus told her he intended to create a salve or a potion to inhibit the pain from
curse scars. He posed it as general curse scars, not the Dark Mark because that was a thought
too dangerous to be voiced out loud.
Severus taught her how to find the properties and how to isolate or enhance them. Together,
they cut, separated and brewed. It was a comfortable silence, with only the sound of the
pestle and the mortar. But he could feel the lingering looks she was shooting him, he knew
something was bothering her and she was getting the nerve to ask.
“What is it, Hermione?” He asked instead, offering the opening she was having such a hard
time with.
“Why didn’t you pick me? For Prefect.” He furrowed his brows, he had picked her. “I didn’t
get it,” she said, probably reading his expression, “Pansy got it instead.”
Severus let out a long exhale. “Heads of Houses are required to put forward four names for
Prefects. Two boys and two girls. You were my first choice and Miss Parkinson was my
second, just like Draco was my first choice and Mr Nott my second. It’s the headmaster who
makes the final decision.”
“Theo didn’t get it.” She said. “So Dumbledore followed your first choice for a boy Prefect,
but not me.”
“I can—”
“No.” She shook her head, “To know he snubbed me on purpose, I don’t want to give him the
taste.”
He nodded. But, oh, Severus would give the headmaster the taste.
“I hate how he keeps taking things from us.” She said, her brown eyes carrying the same fire
they did that night many years ago.
For the first time, Severus wondered how much of a mistake Dumbledore was making by
making an enemy out of Hermione.
Chapter End Notes

I hope you all liked it! I'm really not satisfied with how it turned out, but it was this or
another week of no updates.
I don't like fillers because they leave me dry, next chapter they are taking the train back
to Hogwarts and we have Draco and Hermione, which I know all of you are waiting
for!!
The title and the quote at the beginning belong to Liar by the Arcadian Wild

you try and mask your pain in the most postmodern way
Chapter Notes
Hello! Thank you again for all the lovely lovely comments!! I really appreciate it!
Some excerpts were taken from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, they don't
belong to me.
This chapter is a bit big because I didn't want to cut some things from this chapter and I
didn't want to keep their return to Hogwarts (and everything that entails) to yet another
chapter.
Anyways!! Hope you enjoy it! this is very raw lol having a beta? never heard of it, I've
just finished my finals and this was written in between breaks with lots of coffee and not
enough sleep!!! but I really wanted to post it now so you guys wouldn't be waiting for
another week.
Why can't we be friends,

when we are lovers?
'cause it always ends with us hating each other
instead of calling me out, you should be pulling me in
I've just got one more thing to say
I'm just pissed you pied me off
Chapter Forty-Six
Platform 9 3/4. September 1st.
It could only be a joke, that after over a month without seeing or hearing from him, Draco
Malfoy would be the first face she saw on the platform. Not face exactly, because he had his
back to her while he talked to his father and mother. His hair of course was visible from a
mile away. Vince was next to him, which got her frowning.
Blaise and Theo were next to her and they were too busy flirting to have noticed Draco yet.
Remus hadn’t returned and because of it, Hermione kept a hold on their bond at all times.
“Heya,” They heard and the trio turned to see Sirius and Harry coming up behind them. The
Weasleys were a little bit further back, it looked like the pair had jogged up to them.
“Potter,” Theo and Blaise greeted. Harry nodded in response. “Black.”

Sirius didn’t mind the cold greeting, he offered Crookshanks a rub and the cat purred in her
arms. “Nothing from him?” He asked her. Hermione shook her head. Sirius’ face contorted.
She knew they weren’t in a good enough place yet and Remus had left without a face-to-face
goodbye, when Sirius came to check up on them, it was very clear just how upset he was
about that.
“He’s fine,” Sirius said, which Hermione thought that it was more for him than for her.
“Moony's fine.” He repeated a bit lower.
“Look at that,” Theo said with a chuckle, “someone was skipped for the Prefect position as
well.”
Hermione raised an eyebrow in question but then followed Theo’s line of sight and found that
Molly was trying to pin something to Ron’s clothes while the twins were sniggering
something that sounded like ‘Ickle Prefect Ronnikins’. She turned back to Harry, who
managed to hide his expression just a moment too late. “Weasley is Prefect?”
Harry nodded and then it was his turn to frown, “wait, you didn’t get it as well?” He asked
and Hermione shook her head. “You didn’t tell me!”
Hermione huffed in annoyance, “Clearly there was nothing to tell.”
Sirius was holding back his smirk because he was still on his path to full forgiveness. He
turned to Harry, “I told you, Harry, being a Prefect is boring and it would cut your Quidditch
practice hours. And besides, your dad didn’t get it either.” But of course, he was still Sirius
and that was a too good opportunity to pass. “Now, you on the other hand…” he said looking
at her, “Dad and mum on your side.”
The boys chuckled at her expense and Hermione remembered just how much the three of
them on good terms was tiring on her side. “Well, none of you got Prefect as well!” She
retorted, “so I don’t see why you are making such a fuss about it with me!”
Theo laughed, “because you are the only one bothered by it.”
“I'm not bothered!” She retorted, just a bit bothered.
“I leave for a few days and you gang up against Hermione in my absence?” Hermione
whirled, and she wasn’t the only one.
“Remus!” She exclaimed and after throwing Crookshanks to Blaise, crashed on her
godfather’s chest. He huffed and squeezed her tight.
“I said I would be back for the train.” He told her and she nodded, pulling back and allowing
Remus to greet the others. “Any problem to report?” He asked Theo, who shook his head.
Hermione bit down a smile. It wasn’t really necessary to leave Theo in charge of the house
but Theo found a blast being able to tell Blaise to wash the dishes. He turned to Harry and
pulled the boy for a hug. Harry went willingly. Hermione knew that during Harry’s lessons
with Severus, Remus had gone over to talk to the boy. “I missed you, kid.”
Harry didn’t hold grudges as she did. Hermione pretended to not notice the side-eye Sirius
was giving her, she knew how tactile he was - which was curious given that all the other
pureblood around her were not big fans of physical touch -, she knew he had wanted to hug
her more than once in the times they saw one another since their big conversations but
Hermione wasn’t there yet.
There was a terse moment when Sirius and Remus looked at one another. They weren’t very
far from each other, if any of them reached, they would touch, but still, there was so much
between them.
“I kept watch,” Sirius said, his voice low. “I was there in the morning.”
It was very good that Legilimency didn’t work on werewolves, because even if Remus
learned Occlumency, his expression at that moment would be crystal clear.
“I know.” Remus said, “I saw it.”
“Get your asses on the train!” They heard yelling from a window close to where they were
standing on the platform, “I got us a compartment!” Pansy said with a grin. She had cut her
hair and she looked absolutely beautiful in it. “Not for you Henry.” She added.
Harry just snorted and waved her off, but he was smiling when he turned to the group,
“should we go? I still have to find my compartment.”
Sirius was grinning too and he looked between his godson and the girl still watching from the
window with brilliant eyes. He messed up Harry’s hair even more and simply said, “oh boy.”
“See you all for Christmas,” Remus told them. He too had the same amused expression.
“Not me though,” Blaise said. “Going to Brazil this Christmas. And it's summer there at that
time of the year, so I’m going to get twice my tan.”
“Irresistible,” Sirius said, and his grin seemed contagious because Blaise smiled and even
Theo chuckled.
He quickly put up a serious expression and with an air of superiority that he mastered at
eleven, said “But get this shit in order until then, will you?” pointing at the two adults. “I
want to beat Sirius again.”
“Please!” Sirius scoffed, while Remus rolled his eyes, “you are not a better beater than I am,
in fact, you still haven’t made it to the team yet! I will have you know that I was—”
“Beater on your third year yes, we know. Let them go. Have fun then Blaise, write to us
anyway.” Remus said, pushing them in the direction of the train, but he was also smiling.
Hermione knew they would get their shit in order until Christmas.
She looked back to where Draco was still standing with his family, this time Theo noticed it
too. One after the other, they climbed on the train.
“They are so gay,” Blaise announced once they were out of hearing distance, “what was that
they were saying? I kept watch. What does that even mean?” Harry snorted and Hermione
sighed.
“I think he was talking about the moon,” Harry replied, “during the full moon I caught Sirius
up on the roof watching it. He stayed out there the entire night.”
“Ugh, so gay,” Blaise repeated.
“Love, stop being homophobic,” Theo said.
“I will not stay on the roof for you,"
“I think it’s very romantic,” Hermione said and the three boys groaned. Clearly, romance was
dead.
“But Remus though,” Theo said, now curious about the whole thing. “How could he have
known? He did say ‘I saw it’.”
Harry smirked, “Blaise that might be too gay for you, cover your ears.” He said and the
Slytherin did as told. The train had started moving, but none of them made a move to go any
further down the car. “Sirius is a star in the sky, right? On summer nights it can only be seen
at dawn before the sun or in the evening as the sun sets.”
“Salazar's balls,” Blaise groaned, “I can’t even be mad at Sirius for being a jerk when they
are that meant to be.”
“So Sirius was both the first and the last thing the wolf saw,” Theo said in quiet
contemplation. “Well, I can’t be mad either.”
“And since when do you know so much about stars?” She asked in curiosity.
This time Harry blushed, “Regulus was a fan of astrology. I might have read through his
journal.”
Hermione’s eyes widened a bit at that. “You talked to Sirius about it?”
“Yeah. You knew, didn’t you?”
Hermione nodded. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Yes, but later. I will let you catch on, she might kill me before I set foot on Hogwarts.” He
said and pointed with his chin behind them.
The three Slytherins turned to find Pansy standing there, her arms crossed on her chest. She
looked even meaner with the bob cut and the bangs. And she was glaring at them all.
“I am not a doorman.” She announced. “And I am more interesting than him.”
“Of course you are Pans,” Blaise said, walking up to her and kissing her cheek in greeting.
“See you later then,” Hermione said and both she and Theo followed behind.
They all got inside the compartment Pansy had gotten them, where Daphne was already
seated. The blonde got up to her feet to greet Hermione and Theo with a hug.
“Are you all right? I was worried when I heard it.” Daphne asked, she had both hands on
Theo’s cheeks and the boy rolled his eyes at her.
“I wrote you, Daph.” He said, “I'm fine. We got away before they closed on us.”
“Well, you don’t usually write everything now, do you?” She said with an eye roll of her
own, “I worry.”
“I know you do.” He said and sat down next to her, “I’m really fine, I promise.”
“All right.”
Hermione sat next to Pansy on the other side, once she put Crookshanks down, he jumped
over to the overhead rack and hissed as in a clear warning that he didn’t want to be bothered.
“Any new crisis during your summer?” Pansy asked.
Hermione shook her head, while Blaise made a face. There had almost been a new crisis
when they set Rita Skeeter free from the jar. She hadn’t been happy at all about her summer
stay.
“Are we going to address the elephant in the room?” Daphne asked, and when the elephant
remained unaddressed, she continued, “He did say hi to me, but it was fleeting and he had
Vince and Greg next to him.”
Theo scoffed. “Curious, how he’s suddenly friends with them again.”
“He didn’t say hi to me though,” Pansy said. “Well, he didn’t even answer my letter during
the summer.”
“What did you write him?” Hermione asked.
“Nothing much, just asked if he needed help removing his wand from his ass or if he
intended to keep it shoved there.”
“Pansy!” Hermione exclaimed while the boys laughed.
“I dread the day I receive a letter from you,” Blaise joked.
“I wasn’t that forward, but he also didn’t answer me,” Theo added.
Daphne shrugged, “he can’t hide anymore, he will have to talk to us sooner or later.”
Hermione leaned back, staring out of the window. If Draco decided to be childish, she had no
qualms about cornering him. “Oh, he will talk.” She simply said.
They changed topics because if Draco wasn’t going to talk to them, they wouldn’t be talking
about him.
Pansy told them about her summer and how her father was getting more paranoid by the day.
“We had to move twice during the summer. Both times he swore he had seen suspicious
people around the house. No doubt they will be all around the continent this semester. I am to
stay at the castle.” Pansy said with a groan. Between everything, Hermione was certain that
staying in Hogwarts for Christmas was the worst for her. She had never missed an
opportunity to talk about the ‘poor souls’ who stayed behind.
Daphne also told them about her summer. She had been the only one among them to have a
normal one. Blushing, she asked them whether they remembered Pansy’s date to the ball last
year. Pansy’s eyes narrowed. “You had a date with my date?” The raven-haired girl asked.
The blonde shook her head and her face grew a shade redder. Hermione noticed that she was
slightly uncomfortable, which was completely odd for Daphne. She looked at Theo next to
her and at Blaise on Theo’s next side. Blaise had his knee touching Theo’s. Daphne seemed
to look specifically to their knees before looking at Pansy with worried eyes. “He has a
sister.”
Oh. Hermione thought.
“Daph—” Pansy began tilting her head to the side. “You are not worried about me, are you?”
She asked and there was a mix of confusion and hurt in her tone.
“You are my best friend,” Daphne said and it reminded Hermione a bit of how conscious
Blaise had been when telling her about liking boys. It seemed to matter the most when it
came to the ones close to them. “You are fine with them,” Daphne pointed at the boys next to
her, “but since we share—”
“Oh, Daph, it doesn’t change a thing,” Pansy said, so honestly that it brought a smile to
Hermione’s face.
“Okay,” She said and since that seemed to be done and over, the practical Daphne was back.
She smiled at them, partially in thanks and partially in relief, and began telling them about
how she randomly ran at Olivier Dufort at the beginning of July and how he introduced her to
his younger sister, who had the same age as Daphne.
It hadn’t been anything serious, but it had been enough to make Daphne realise that the
reason why she hadn’t been interested in her own date last year was that she would have
preferred to have gone with a girl.
Before Hermione and Theo befriended, Daphne had been the only one Theo had shown
affection to, she watched then as he put his arm around the girl’s shoulder and tugged her to
him, dropping a kiss on her head. It seemed to be the only support Daphne needed.
Briefly, Hermione wondered if Daphne ever thought that Hermione had stolen Theo from her.
She knew that they had grown up together, Daphne’s mum even helped raise Theo and they
were very close before. But Hogwarts changed the dynamic and Blaise and Hermione had
most of Theo’s attention during their year and now they had his holidays as well.
They talked a bit more, this time about their expectations for the year. As always, her friends
made their bets on what deadly endeavour Harry would put himself him and as always,
Hermione refrained from participating.
Harry passed by them, he just smiled through the glass but didn’t stop, he seemed to be after
the food trolley. Pansy suddenly got to her feet. “I will be right back.”
Daphne frowned, “Where are you going?”
“I forgot we were supposed to be in the Prefect’s compartment for some ridiculous thing or
another.” She said and Hermione refused to let it bother her. They had talked about it. Pansy
had even offered to give the badge to her and pretend she had never gotten it.
Pansy had been smart enough to see right through it. She knew exactly what it meant that she
had gotten the badge instead of Hermione.
She left and turned in the same direction Harry had gone, which was weird because
Hermione knew the Prefect’s compartment was to the other side.
Almost on cue, Draco passed by. He stopped only enough to be seen by all of them. His face
was mostly expressionless, only showing emotion when he locked eyes with her, to which
Hermione learned that he was angry. At her.
Why was he angry at her? His father kicked her out and he shut her out in response.
Well, Hermione was suddenly angry now.
“Okay.” Theo got to his feet with a scoff and a glare at the now-vacated space. “That won’t
do. I will be right back.”
“Theo! No, I—” Hermione said and tried holding his sleeve.
“You will get your turn, don’t worry.” He said and with that, left as well.
The three remaining friends stared at one another, quite lost.
“You did notice that she went after your brother, didn’t you?” Blaise asked after a moment.
Hermione turned. Oh no, she had. Hermione groaned.
“What?” Daphne asked, confused.
Blaise snorted. “That's the million galleons question Daph.” He replied. “Something is
happening. We still don’t know what. Merlin, I don’t think they know.”
“Okay…” Daphne said tentatively, “but what exactly is this something?”

And so the third round of gossip began.
They had barely stepped out of the train and onto the Hogsmeade station when one of the
seventh-year boys from their house passed by them quite forcefully, knocking his shoulder
against Theo’s, “Blood traitor,” he snarled as he went.
“Oh yes,” Theo said after picking up his backpack that had fallen to the floor, “Lovely!”
Blaise exhaled, “Welcome to our fifth year.”
Blood traitor.
Hermione looked at Theo, who had taken Blaise’s hand and together were already walking
towards the carriages. He kept his head high and his back straight. There were a few more
comments from people in their house, the Carrow twins openly glared at him. They all knew.
The attack on Theo was well known and he had declared his side.
Daphne was next to her and she blonde touched Hermione’s elbow, “Let’s go.” She said,
“Let's not give them a reason.” Because they were looking at her too. They hadn’t forgotten
what Ron had said last year.
The four of them got into the carriage, Pansy had gone ahead to perform her Prefect's duty,
but they promised to save her a seat. Draco was nowhere to be seen.
She couldn’t deny it, it was nice seeing the castle again. After the summer she had, the
familiarity that the entrance hall brought was warming. Around her, all the students crossed
the double doors to the right, where the start-of-the-term fest waited for them. Above each
table, the houses’ banners were colourful once more, and she wasn’t the only one to stop and
look at them. She spotted Harry at the Gryffindor table, he was talking animatedly with his
friends. She finally found Draco, seated by the end of the Slytherin table, with Vince and
Greg next to him. Hermione and the others sat down a little in the middle and she pretended
to not notice Draco’s eyes on her the entire time. Some people were being less discreet in
their staring, she could even hear some comments. They had noticed a riff between the fifth
year.
Pansy sat down between Daphne and Hermione and quickly lowered her head to whisper,
“He’s unbearable.” She said, “It’s like he embodied Lucius. We will have to do something
about that soon enough.”
“You bet,” Theo retorted. After he had returned from his talk with Draco, the only thing he
said was ‘he’s suddenly mute and deaf’.
“On another note, however, Milli asked me if it wasn’t time for me to rethink my
friendships,” Pansy told them and they all turned to look at the girl who sat with Tracey
somewhere between Draco and them.
“She means me?” Hermione asked with an eyebrow raised.
“Or Theo.” Pansy said with a shrug, “but we will know for sure in our room.”
“It's obvious, isn’t it?” Daphne asked, her voice the same quiet tone as Pansy’s. “The Prophet
has kept quiet and denied any rumour of You-Know-Who’s return, but this—” the circled her
finger around them, motioning to the Slytherins all around, “the parents have spoken. Clearly,
they know about Theo, so they won’t talk to him, you?” She said to Hermione, “Professor
Snape is known to be in the same circles as You-Know-Who’s followers, but you are also
Harry’s sister. If they realise that the two of you are back to talking to one another, they might
ostracise you too.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time.” She said with a sniff. Hermione didn’t care, honestly, she had
too much on her plate to deal with stupid people being stupid. Let them mutter things under
their breath when she passed, she would just hope they choked.
Slowly, the Great Hall filled up. The professors were also all seated in their respective seats.
Hermione saw her father on Dumbledore’s right side. He had the same terse expression as
always as he listened to Professor Sinistra next to him.
“Who’s that?” Pansy asked sharply, pointing toward the middle of the staff table. On
Dumbledore’s other side, wearing a fluffy pink cardigan she wore over her robes, was a
squat, with short, curly, mouse-brown hair. She had a pink Alice band in her hair that
matched her cardigan.
“The new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor most likely,” Blaise murmured. “But
where did Dumbledore find that? From Babbitty Rabbitty the Play?”
They wouldn’t know just then, because the main doors were opening and Professor
McGonagall was entering the hall with the First Years. As always, she carried the stool on
which sat the Sorting Hat. The buzz of talk in the Great Hall faded away as the first years
lined up in front of the staff table.
Professor McGonagall placed the stool carefully in front of them, and then stood back. The
Sorting Hat gave a shudder and the rip near the hat’s brim opened wide like a mouth and the
Sorting Hat burst into this year's song.
“In times of old when I was new

and Hogwarts barely started
The founders of our noble school
Thought never to be parted:
United by a common goal,
They had the selfsame yearning,
To make the world’s best magic school
And pass along their learning.”
Hermione took the opportunity to look around her. Draco was looking ahead of him. His back
was straight in that infuriating aristocratic way that he learned from Lucius, his nose was
pointed high and his expression was perfectly schooled. The Prefect Badge glinted on his
chest and Hermione wondered how he’d felt when he received it. His profile was as
handsome as ever and Hermione understood Remus a bit more then. She was angry and
upset, but at the same time, she wanted nothing more than to crash against him, to feel the
warmth of his arms and the comfort of his chest. She wasn’t stupid, she knew something had
happened to receive such a cold shoulder. He had looked angry when they met on the train,
and that had been telling enough.
"For instance, Slytherin

Took only pure-blood wizards
Of great cunning, just like him,
And only those of the sharpest mind
Were taught by Ravenclaw
While the bravest and the boldest
Went to daring Gryffindor.
Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest,
And taught them all she knew,"
The hat caught her attention then, for his words were different this year - and not only
because it was a new song every year - but his tone was odd. Around her, Theo was already
frowning and Hermione noticed that a few older ones were glaring at the hat.
"Thus the Houses and their founders

Retained friendships are firm and true.
So Hogwarts worked in harmony
For several happy years,
But then discord crept among us
Feeding on our faults and fears.
The Houses that, like pillars four,
Had once held up our school,
Now turned upon each other and,
Divided, sought to rule.
Hermione found Severus again, who was also studying the Hat in curiosity. He seemed to
have felt her eyes on him because he looked up at her. She offered a small smile and he
nodded at her, but a quick tilt to the side told her to look at the pink woman.
"And for a while, it seemed the school

Must meet an early end,
What with duelling and with fighting
And the clash of friend on friend
And at last, there came a morning
When old Slytherin departed
And though the fighting then died out
He left us quite downhearted.
And never since the founder's four
Were whittled down to three
Have the Houses been united
As they once were meant to be."
She was smiling, but the rest of her face betrayed this seeming happiness. Her eyes were cold
on the hat and Hermione saw it twitch when the hat became more political by the verse.
“And now the Sorting Hat is here

And you all know the score:
I sort you into Houses
Because that is what I’m for,
But this year I’ll go further,
Listen closely to my song:
Though condemned I am to split you
Still, I worry that it’s wrong,”
Hermione caught Harry’s eyes from the other side of the room. They had been split and
mending was a long process.
“Though I must fulfil my duty

And must quarter every year
Still, I wonder whether Sorting
May not bring the end I fear.
Oh, know the perils, read the signs,
The warning history shows,
For our, Hogwarts is in danger
From external, deadly foes
And we must unite inside her
Or we’ll crumble from within.
I have told you, I have warned you. . . . Let the Sorting now begin.”
People were applauding, Hermione noticed, but they were murmuring as well, for the first
time, McGonagall had to glare at the room at large to get their attention so she could begin.
They were quiet as the names were called, politely clapping for the newcomers to their house,
but the way Pansy was glaring at the empty space in front of her, Hermione knew the girl
could only think of the feast.
Dumbledore stood and with short words, he told them to enjoy dinner. Hermione snorted as
people all around her dove in as starving men and women.
“From external, deadly foes?” Theo whispered, “this won’t go down well.” He said. “It set
the tone before the term started.”
“It’s the same talk of union as the end of the year.” Blaise nodded. “Funny, because
Dumbledore isn’t big on union.”
“Since when are we to take advice from a piece of cloth?” Someone down the Slytherin table
remarked.
Theo made a face that easily translated to ‘my point is proven’.
Hermione tried to focus on the conversations around her, the group of Ravenclaws behind her
were all talking about how they believed that Dumbledore had been lying at the end of last
year since there had been no news about it on the Daily Prophet. Yes, because Fudge was a
coward. Cedric Diggory died last year, how could people not see it?
At the end of dinner, Dumbledore got up to his feet, “Well, now that we are all digesting
another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term
notices,” he said. He went through all the same ones, before moving to the new staff
members. Hagrid had been replaced again by professor Grubbly-Plank, which was both good
and bad at the same time. Good, because it meant a proper professor and lessons, but bad,
because Hermione knew there must be something going on with Hagrid for him to not be
teaching them. As they guessed, the pink witch was the new Defense Against the Dark Arts
teacher. Dolores Umbridge.
“She’s a ministry official,” Daphne whispered. “She works for Fudge.”
Umbridge had stood up, but Dumbledore had either not noticed or completely ignored,
because he continued. “Tryouts for the House Quidditch teams will take place on the—” He
broke off then, looking inquiringly at Professor Umbridge, who was now standing next to
him to make a speech.”
To everyone’s surprise, Dumbledore stepped back and gave the stand to her. The other staff
members were openly in shock, and all the Head of Houses were glaring. Even Professor
Sprout.
“Thank you, Headmaster,” Professor Umbridge simpered, “for those kind words of
welcome.”
Blaise groaned next to her, “Are we going to have to listen to her voice the entire year?”
“Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!” She smiled, revealing very pointed
teeth. “And to see such happy little faces looking back at me!” Hermione didn’t need to look
to know that no one was smiling. Dumbledore might not be her favourite person - or
anyone’s in Slytherin for that matter - but interrupting him at the beginning of term speech
was something.
“I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all, and I’m sure we’ll be very good
friends!” Students exchanged looks at this, she heard more than one snort at their table. Pansy
was literally hiding behind Daphne to not be caught sniggering. Professor Umbridge cleared
her throat again, but when she continued, some of the breathiness had vanished from her
voice. “The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and
wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to
nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the
Wizarding community must be passed down through the generations lest we lose them
forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded,
replenished, and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching.”
“This is how you sound like when you recite the History of Magic textbook.” Blaise
sniggered on his pumpkin juice.
She kicked him under the table and he gave a small jump. “Shut up,”
Professor Umbridge paused here and made a little bow to her fellow staff members, none of
whom bowed back. Well, clearly this addition to the staff wasn’t appreciated by the others.
Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout exchanged a significant glance at one another
before Umbridge cleared her throat once more.
“Does she need a throat gum or something?” Theo asked.
“Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty
task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there
will be stagnation and decay. There again, progress for progress’s sake must be discouraged,
for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and
new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation . . .”
She had lost her crowd, just a few people were still paying attention to Umbridge’s words,
but Hermione remained firm, as difficult as it was. Most of them were back to talking among
themselves and the ones who were still looking at Umbridge were glassy-eyed, certainly
miles away. The teachers, however, were still listening very attentively and that was the only
thing she needed to keep paying attention to “. . . because some changes will be for the better,
while others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognized as errors of judgment.
Meanwhile, some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and
outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness,
effectiveness, and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting
what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be
prohibited.”
Hermione shook her head minimally in disbelief. She sat down. Dumbledore clapped. The
staff followed his lead, much less enthusiastically.
Dumbledore had stood up again. “Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge, that was most
illuminating,” he said, bowing to her.
“You heard it, didn’t you?” Theo asked her.
“Of course I did.”
“What?” Blaise asked, “Are we talking about the ‘progress for progress’s sake must be
discouraged’ part?”
“Or was it ‘pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited?’” Daphne asked.
“It's clear. The Ministry is going to be interfering in Hogwarts this year.”
“Maybe that’s why the half-giant isn’t teaching this year,” Pansy said with a shrug. “We had
him back after a stint in Azkaban, clearly Dumbledore doesn’t care about his family tree.”
“I don’t think Dumbledore care about anyone’s family tree,” Ledbury said. Honestly,
Hermione wanted him to just graduate already.
Montague sniggered next to his friend, “Must be nice, having daddy as your Head of House.”
Hermione turned a cynical smile at Montague, “I’d be careful,” she said. “You don’t want to
know just how nice is it, do you?”
One of the Carrow twins snarled. “That's why you didn’t get Prefect. You already have
enough privileges being daddy’s girl.”
Hermione couldn’t help the snort. Privilege? The only thing she got so far from that was
heartache.
There was a great clattering and banging all around them. A few of the Slytherin jumped.
They had stopped paying attention to Dumbledore after Ledbury’s commentary. Everyone
was getting to their feet and leaving the hall.
“Let's just go,” Pansy said, throwing a nasty look at the twins.
“You have to help the first years.” Hermione reminded the raven-haired girl.
“Oh, shit! You are right!” She said. “All right!” Pansy called with a sudden commanding
voice, “Snakelets! With me! Today if you may, of course!”
Theo snorted as they watched Pansy saunter to where the group of first years were clustered.
Draco was already there. “Merlin save us all.” He said.
“Especially you.” One of the twins said and he just raised an eyebrow at her.
“And you are still here why?”
“Auntie and uncle are coming for you, Theodore.” The other said.
Theo smiled. Cold and condescending. He was the tallest in their group and way taller than
the twins, who were one year younger than all of them. He got into their space, towering over
them. Hermione watched as they made an effort not to cower. Still, it was Theo. “Haven’t
you heard? They tried. Tell them to be faster next time.” He said.
Jesus Christ. The twins glared and with a mirrored huff, turned and fled to the dungeons.
Vince and Greg were around, and Theo turned to them, “What? Have anything to say to me
as well?”
Greg scowled, “I have no time to speak with Blood Traitors like you.” And walked ahead.
Hermione looked at Vince, who just a few years ago had told her he liked her, that he found
her terrifying. He caught her eye then. They had been friends before but completely cut
contact last year. She remembered how Blaise told her Vince had had fun setting fire to the
tents at the World Cup and how whatever happened in the boy’s dormitory made Theo, Blaise
and Draco stop associating with them.
“Good,” Theo replied to Greg’s back. “You coming?” He asked them.

“You can go. I will talk to my brother real quick.” She replied and the others all nodded. No
one seemed to have noticed that Vince had lingered and that he was still looking.
“I do remember what he said.” Vince began, “about making decisions.”

“You made yours, then?”
“Yes. I thought I wasn't one to make decisions.” He replied, “but it turns out that I am.”
“How can you choose that? How can you think any of that is right?”
He only shook his head, “And how can you put all of them in danger with your ideas? Aren’t
they your friends? Is it right to alienate them from their families as you have done? They are
all from good families and look at what you did, Theo has been cast out because of you,
because of your nonsense.”
“My nonsense? Vince are you even listening to yourself!”
“At least Draco saw sense before it was too late.” He said. Hermione scoffed. Oh, Draco still
hadn’t seen sense, but he would soon enough. “You should be ashamed. Your father is a great
wizard and you’ve embarrassed him by creating this connection to Potter.”
Hermione truly couldn’t believe her ears. “I have created a connection to Potter?” She
laughed, “You’ve been brainwashed, that’s what you’ve been.” Hermione said. “Stay away
from my friends.”
“I wish them no harm, Hermione. They were my friends too.”
“I was your friend.”
“Yes, and I wish you no harm as well.”
“When you side with him, you side against me, Vince. He wants to kill my brother and he
killed my biological mother. You can’t say that to me.”
Vince took a step forward and Hermione hated that she had to look up to face him. He was
much bigger than her. “I know,” he said and there was a trace of affection in there. “I stand by
what I told you then, I find you brilliant and terrifying. It’s a shame that our choices led us to
opposite paths, and if our wands ever find each other’s tips, I will remember everything you
have done for me.”
He didn’t finish, so it let Hermione wonder if after remembering everything she did, she’d
still find a spell being cast her way.
Hermione went up to the Gryffindor tower, in the hopes of finding Harry on the way, but it
turned out that he was long gone by then, so Hermione sighed and made the walk back to the
dungeons, she stopped by the library. Hermione always enjoyed it best when it was empty.
Tonight, not even Madam Pince was in there. Hermione supposed the woman had gone
straight to her quarters after dinner because the majority of the candles were unlit. She
walked around the aisles, running a finger through the shelves and just breathing in the smell
of the books. Her heart ached. She missed the Malfoy Library. She should have spent more
time there at the beginning of the summer, taking it all in, reading the books that she had been
curious about but decided to save for later. She’d do so many things differently if she had
known that she wouldn’t be returning there.
Hermione checked her watch, time had escaped her. She only had fifteen minutes before
curfew. Hermione had half a mind to stop by the Potions office but quickly dismissed the
idea. What would she say? Hi? It seemed silly.
It was only when Hermione found herself standing in front of the stone wall that she realised
she had no idea what the password was. Pansy, terrible Prefect as she was turning out to be,
hadn’t told her. Hermione had her thoughts elsewhere for the entire feast that she didn’t think
of asking beforehand. Sighing, she turned. She would have to go to Severus after all.
“Not even a day in, and you are already out after curfew.” She heard the well-known drawl
from the end of the corridor.
And of course, there he stood. At half-light, his facial features were chiselled rather than
pointy, but the cuts were all there, in each syllable in his aristocratic accent, so unbearably
posh that she knew, even for him, it was dialled up for whatever reason he chose to be a jerk
this time.
Hermione walked up to him, stopping right in front of him. “Don’t you dare.” She told him,
her voice low. She hated that now she had to tilt her head up to look at his face.
Draco only raised an eyebrow at her. “Why wouldn’t I?”
She shook her head in disbelief, “Two months. And that’s the first thing you say to me?”
“Why would I say anything else?” He asked her, cutting, like everything else about him.
“You didn’t bother.”
“I didn’t bother?” She asked, “I had to leave!”
Something awful crossed his face, it was fleeting and for a brief moment, she saw the hurt in
his eyes and in the way his jaw clenched. “Of course,” he snarled. “Because the alternative
was unthinkable for you.”
“Yes!” She said, confused. Had he known about the contract? Had he agreed with that? “You
thought that was okay?”
“Yes!” He replied, “I was a fool. Clearly!”
“How could you ever think I’d say yes to that?"
Draco took a step back, but his face was now clear of any emotion. Hermione looked into his
eyes, she saw nothing there and at once she knew what he had spent his summer doing.
“You left. You left everything behind, everything.” There was no crack in his voice or waver
in his tone. “All the summers and Christmases, you left like it was nothing like we didn’t
mean anything. Like I—”
“It meant everything Draco,” she whispered, Hermione felt tears threatening to spill. “But not
enough for me to choose it.” Merlin, she loved the Manor yes, it was her favourite place, yes.
But Draco? She could never choose the Manor over him. How could he be okay with that?
How could he think she’d be content with being there but not with him? Forget their
relationship, but not being his friend? She shook her head in disbelief.
“Apologies then,” he said. “For thinking otherwise.” There was an icy coldness to him. He
was a freezing wall that if Hermione were to place her palm on it, would get stuck and the
only way to detach it would be to leave her hand behind. It should make her want to step
away, but instead, she could only think of crashing her entire body against it. Him.
He moved to walk past her but she wouldn’t have it. She’d lose her hand. Hermione grabbed
his sleeve, stopping him. He pulled away but stopped. “What?” She asked. “Draco, you were
the one who acted like it meant nothing. You let me go.”
Draco turned again, “I let you go? That you left at all was answer enough Hermione.” He told
her, “You said no to me and I respected that.”
That made her stop. She felt her chest hurting. Suddenly, the notion that maybe they weren’t
talking about the same thing crossed her mind. “Draco, I chose you.” She told him. “That's
why he made me leave. Because I wouldn’t not choose you.”
He faltered and his Occlumency shields cracked for a second before he recomposed himself.
“Hermione,” he began as he took that step again, his voice low, “What did my father tell
you?”
“He gave me a contract and told me to break up with you or he’d kick me out.” She told him.
“Draco, I chose you.”
“Fucking hell.” He muttered and took his hands to his hair, messing it up, “He—He lied to
me.” Draco looked at her. “He dared.”
“What—what did he tell you?”
“That's not important now.”
“No, don’t give me that.” She said, “What did Lucius say to have you looking at me like that
on the train?” Hermione asked. She gulped and bit down the inside of her cheeks, her eyes
were burning when she added, “What did you believe of me?”
It was like a shift had taken place, moments ago she had been looking at someone who saw
her and saw blame, and now she was looking at someone who realised he was the one to
blame. “I told him I wanted to court you properly,” he began and her breath caught, “I asked
him permission and he gave it to me. He told me that he just needed to talk to you about it
first.” That wasn’t what happened.
“So… when I left… you believed that it was because I said no?”
“Yes.”
“You know me,” Hermione whispered. “I'm in—” she couldn’t say it. After months of
wanting to do it, she felt the words couldn’t leave her throat. “You are—Draco, I—”
He walked up the remaining distance between them. Draco caught her face in his hands,
wiping away the tears that had escaped her eyes. “I told you once that I wouldn’t forgive him
if he took you from me.”
“But you let him.” She said, pulling his hands down. “What did he tell you I said?”
Draco looked down, she hadn’t let go of his hands, “I'm sorry.”
“Draco.”
“That what we had wasn’t serious enough for that. That you believed you deserved more and
I would stand in your way and drag you down.”
Hermione stepped back. “What happened to ‘not the two of us’?” She asked. “After
everything that happened between us until we could get where we were… How could you
believe that I would dismiss you that way?”
His jaw was set when he spoke, “I know what my family is Hermione. I know what being
with someone like me means for you.”
“Someone like you?” She shook her head, “Draco, you are crueller to yourself than anyone
will ever know.”
“I was stupid. Father likes you, I didn’t—” he shook his head in disbelief, “I didn’t think he’d
lie or kick you out. But I should have realised it, I— it’s all His fault. Mother and father are
terrified, they try not to show it but they are. You are Potter’s sister and Uncle Severus’
daughter, it’s obvious that father would do something about it.”
“Draco…”
“No, Hermione. I let my pride blind me and you were right, I let him. He knew exactly what
to say and what to get what he wanted and I let him. But not anymore.”
Is it right to alienate them from their families as you have done? Vince’s voice echoed in her
mind. Theo had been cast out, and Pansy and Daphne were on the verge of losing Milli, their
childhood friend because they had chosen Hermione. Could she do the same with Draco?
He leaned down, touching their foreheads together and this time when he reached for her
face, she let him. Her own hands found his chest and the beating of his heart under her palms
was enough. Everyone had tried to take things from her, some had been successful. They
weren’t going to take him. “I’m keeping you Draco Malfoy.”
Draco leaned in. It was arresting and almost eerie the way their lips touched, how she’d
instantly reach for his hair and he’d pull her closer by the waist, they’d mould together like
twin souls in a single body - and when they kissed like that, she could only feel that uncanny
sense of him as an extension of herself.
They kissed and she quickly found herself pressed against the stone walls. His hands had
found her skin under her uniform and she was halfway through his buttons when he pulled
back, dragging her bottom lip with him. She gasped and his eyes were dark and filled with
desire, “I’ve always been yours.” He told her before leaning back again, this time desperation
had been replaced by passion and their kisses were languid and his hands were delicate on
her skin.
It seemed silly to hold a grudge against him because in the end, after the glacier of Draco’s
anger had run its course and the fire of Hermione’s wrath had deadened, they would always
return, two halves of a whole.
Chapter End Notes
Tell me in the comments what you think!
The title and the quote at the beginning belong to Sincerity is Scary by The 1975
I didn't have in myself to go with grace
Chapter Notes
Hello! Once more, thank you all for the lovely comments in the previous chapter!!
I just wanted to point out that differently from JK, in this fic we respect the concept of a
turn around the sun. Google told me that September 1st 1995 was a Friday, so their
classes don't begin on the second. In here they have a weekend before the beginning of
the term.
Some parts were taken from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, they don't belong to
me, they belong to the woman that ignored the rotation of the earth.
This one is not as big as usual, but I wanted to get a new one before Christmas. I hope
you enjoy it.
we gather here, we line up

weepin' in sunlit a room, and
if I'm on fire you will be made of ashes too
Chapter Forty-Seven
The common room was torture and the first morning after their arrival showed just how much
the Slytherin house was divided. The majority of the seventh year was on Voldemort’s side.
Adrian Pucey’s sudden isolation from the boys made it clear that he at least wasn’t. The two
girls with him accounted for the only seventh-year students that weren’t glaring at Hermione
and Theo. In the year above Hermione, things seemed a bit more complicated, they stayed
together but she caught them more than a handful of times hissing at one another in what
clearly was a heated discussion. She would need a few more days to determine where they
stood. The entirety of the fourth year was Voldemort’s, with the Carrow twins holding court
and being as nasty as they could. The younger years were all clearly scared, particularly the
first years, who had no idea where they had just fallen.
Before Hermione and Draco returned to their Common Room after the Start of the Term
Feast, they had talked about what to do next, and both decided to stay low and observe their
housemates. They knew there was no way they could be public as it painted a target on both
of their backs, but their reticence was towards their friends. Theo was the only one who knew
Occlumency besides her and Draco, and as much as she hated to lie - and was making her
entire personality about being truthful - it would be easy to keep their secret if the others
didn’t know as well.
“Blaise is a great actor, but nothing works better than his honest viciousness.” Draco had told
Hermione then.
“He's going to be awful to you.”
“I’m counting on it.” He had said. And that had been it.
Draco had made himself scarce over the weekend, and Hermione had no idea what was going
on in the boy’s dormitory but Saturday and Sunday had Blaise and Theo coming to breakfast
fuming.
Things weren’t much better in the girl’s dormitory. It turned out that Milli had meant both
Hermione and Theo. The first thing Milli said once the five girls were in the room was: “I
can’t be seen with either you or Theo. And I think you two should do the same. He’s not
going to be kind to the ones who have a connection with Potter.” Hermione wondered if they
had all received the same speech from their parents.
“Just drop the ventriloquism” Hermione had snapped. “Tell me what you believe in and be
done with it.”
Mili’s eyes had grown wide and Tracey had looked between them with matching wide eyes.
“I have nothing against you.” She had said, “but I won’t stand by you out there.”
And that had been it.
Because Hermione understood. If she had remained the muggle-born in Slytherin,

Voldemort’s return would have Hermione missing the train this year, because she would have
spent her summer researching how to transfer to Beauxbatons to stay far away from all of this
as possible. But Hermione was the Missing Sister and everyone she loved was deep into this
war. Everyone she loved was soldiering up.
When Monday morning came, Theo and Blaise weren’t the only ones stomping to the Great
Hall. Harry looked possessed and even Ron seemed to be giving him a wide berth.
“Someone has gotten their period this morning,” Pansy muttered next to her.
Blaise leaned over to whisper, “I heard that he spent the weekend fighting with Finnigan
because of You-Know-Who.”
“The Prophet spent the summer writing how Harry was mad and Dumbledore was senile.
They don’t believe You-Know-Who is back.” Blaise said.
Hermione watched as a group of Ravenclaws all moved away and whispered as he passed by.
“How can they not believe it?”
Theo snorted, “we are the only ones whose parents were waiting for this moment.” He said,
“for the first time, Harry has given the Slytherin house something they wanted.”
“I will let him know that,” Hermione mumbled as she picked her breakfast.
They ate mostly in silence until Hermione began to hear murmuring and feel eyes on her. She
looked around and saw that their Head of House was making his way down the table,
handing out their schedules. They watched as he reached Hermione, holding their breaths,
expecting something, but Hermione didn’t know what. He never spoke to them when he gave
out their timetable, she knew he wouldn’t start now just because everyone knew he was her
father.
“Fucking hell.” Pansy groaned as she read her schedule. “This is absolute torture.” They had
Transfiguration, double Potions and double Charms for Monday. Hermione had Ancient
Runes while Pansy and Daphne had Divination.
“And of course, we have double Potions with the Gryffindors.” Daphne groaned, “It's like
Professor Snape makes it on purpose.”
“You know,” Hermione said in a low voice, “I do think he does.”
Hermione looked at her schedule, Potions this year was going to be on Mondays and
Wednesdays, while Defence fell on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Besides Potions, they would be
sharing double Transfiguration and History of Magic with the Gryffindors as well.
“We have more classes with them this year,” she mentioned, “last year we had only Potions
and Transfiguration.”
“Suffering Binns wasn’t enough, we had to suffer Weasley as well,” Pansy added with a
scowl and a glare to where Hermione assumed Ron was seated.
Pansy glared again when they met Harry and Ron on their way to their first class of the day.
The Gryffindors had Charms first thing on a Monday morning.
“What's with the long face?” She asked her brother.
“Half of Gryffindor believes that I’m a madman and a liar—” Pansy opened her mouth,
“don't you start.” He said, cutting her off, “Seamus said that I was making up the whole
Cedric dying thing.”
“He has never been very bright, has he?” Hermione asked. “But anyway, you remember what
Dumbledore said last year, don’t you? That Voldemort has a great gift for spreading discord
and enmity. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust
—”
“How do you remember stuff like that?” Weasley asked and Hermione caught a look of
admiration in her expression that had her tilting her head to the side.
“I listen, Ron,” she replied with a touch of asperity.
“So do I, but I still couldn’t tell you exactly what—”

“The point,” Hermione pressed on, cutting him off, “is that this sort of thing is exactly what
Dumbledore was talking about. Voldemort has only been back two months, and we’ve started
fighting among ourselves. And the Sorting Hat’s warning was the same — stand together, be
united —”
“If you think I’m uniting with those housemates of yours—”
“I wasn’t saying that. I have no hope that you will grow to be mature since clearly, five years
haven’t been enough.”
“It's not my fault you don’t look around.” He retorted and made a whole show of looking
around. “I don’t see your boyfriend anywhere, where is he? Showing unity somewhere else?”
“Oh, shut up, the pair of you,” Harry said heavily. Hermione raised a single eyebrow at her
brother. “Can’t you give it a rest?” he asked. “It’s the first day back. You’re always having a
go at each other, it’s driving me mad.”
“Well—”
“Ron,” Harry said sharply. “You started it now, don’t come complaining when Parkinson
makes your tongue fall to the floor again.” He stalked ahead, leaving Ron to scramble after
his friend.
Pansy grinned at the suggestion as if Harry had just given her the biggest compliment
possible.
“He definitely got his period today,” Daphne said.
Hermione shook her head in exasperation.
She only saw her brother again during Potions, where she moved to sit next to him. Hermione
quickly realised it had been a terrible idea because everyone was staring between them and
Severus - who was pointedly ignoring his students while he filled the board.
“I can’t believe he’s her dad,” Lavender Brown murmured to her friend and Hermione took a
deep breath.
“They don’t even look alike.” Her friend replied.
“Settle down,” Her father said coldly, shutting the door behind them with his wand. Everyone
snapped their backs straight and looked at him. He glared at every single one of them, not
that it was necessary, as his mere presence was usually enough to ensure their silence.
“Before we begin today’s lesson, I think it appropriate to remind you that next June you will
be sitting an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have
learned about the composition and use of magical potions. Moronic though some of this class
undoubtedly are, I expect you to scrape an ‘Acceptable’ in your O.W.L., or suffer my
displeasure.”
His gaze lingered this time upon Neville, whom Hermione saw gulp. “After this year, of
course, many of you will cease studying with me,” He went on and he seemed at least
pleased with that last bit of information. “I take only the very best into my N.E.W.T. Potions
class, which means that some of us will certainly be saying goodbye. But we have another
year to go before that happy moment of farewell,” he said softly.
Hermione knew for certain who wouldn’t be attending Potions next year, Harry’s entire body
language told her that he wanted to drop it as soon as possible, but he was one of the few
Hermione knew that could pull it through in the end. “So whether you are intending to
attempt N.E.W.T. or not, I advise all of you to concentrate your efforts upon maintaining the
high-pass level I have come to expect from my O.W.L. students. Today we will be mixing a
potion that often comes up at Ordinary Wizarding Level: the Draught of Peace, a potion to
calm anxiety and soothe agitation.” Severus gave a particularly heavy glare towards Harry,
who only glared back. It was a lovely way of communication. “Be warned: If you are too
heavy-handed with the ingredients you will put the drinker into a heavy and sometimes
irreversible sleep, so you will need to pay close attention to what you are doing.”
Pansy turned to smirk at Hermione. It was the potion he made them brew after the whole
ordeal with Ledbury. All of her friends had already tried it but her. This time it was she who
glared at her father. Draco, Theo, Blaise, Pansy and Daphne were all already familiar with the
potion.
“The ingredients and method are on the blackboard. And you will find everything you need
in the store cupboard.” He opened the said cupboard with a very unnecessary flick of his
wrist. “You have an hour and a half... Start.”
Last year, she had spent her detention watching her friends and she knew that the ingredients
had to be added to the cauldron precisely in the right order and quantities; the mixture had to
be stirred exactly the right number of times, firstly clockwise, then in counterclockwise
directions; the heat of the flames on which it was simmering had to be lowered to exactly the
right level for a specific number of minutes before the final ingredient was added. She was
sweating by the time he announced that a light silver vapour should be rising from their
potions. Hermione knew her hair was in disarray and she was being very careful to not let
any strand fall inside her cauldron.
At last, her potion was a shimmering mist of silver vapour, while Harry’s next to her was
issuing copious amounts of dark grey steam. But his wasn’t anywhere near the worse ones.
Ron’s was spitting green sparks, and Seamus was feverishly prodding the flames at the base
of his cauldron with the tip of his wand, as they had gone out.
Severus made his round, criticising the work of every single Gryffindor while turning a blind
eye to Greg’s monstrosity. “Look at this,” he told Lavender Brown, “what colour is this?”
“Black, sir.”
“One drop and you would drop dead in here. Should I make you drink it so you can show
your classmates what happens when you brew poorly like this?”
“No, sir.”
He moved on to the next person, who was Harry. Her brother was simmering in anger as
much as their potion. “Potter, what is this supposed to be?”
“The Draught of Peace,” Harry replied tensely.
“Tell me, Potter,” their professor said softly, “can you read?”
Greg laughed. Hermione gripped the edge of her desk. “Yes, I can,” he replied, his fingers
clenched tightly around his wand. Hermione eyed it warily for sparks.
“Read the third line of the instructions for me, Potter.”
“‘Add powdered moonstone, stir three times counterclockwise, allow to simmer for seven
minutes, then add two drops of syrup of hellebore.’”
He grew pale next to her and Hermione saw the moment he realised his mistake.
“Did you do everything on the third line, Potter?”
“No,” Harry said very quietly.
“I beg your pardon?”
“No,” Harry repeated more loudly. “I forgot the hellebore.”
“I know you did, Potter, which means that this mess is utterly worthless. Evanesco.”
The contents of Harry’s potion vanished; he was left standing foolishly beside an empty
cauldron. Hermione gaped. “Those of you who have managed to read the instructions, fill
one flagon with a sample of your potion, label it clearly with your name, and bring it up to
my desk for testing,” said Snape.
“Of course, he’s not going to look at hers,” Seamus muttered with disdain, but the classroom
was so silent that it had the same effect as if he had shouted it.
“And why is that?” She called, suddenly feeling like Harry’s anger had started to seep into
her.
Seamus was brave enough to smirk and reply, “We all knew he favoured you, now we know
why.”
Oh no, she wouldn’t allow her hard work all these years to be doubted and undermined
because of who her father was. “Yeah? Let’s see how he favours me now.” Hermione pushed
her cauldron off the table, spilling all the content onto the stone floor.
“Bloody hell,” She heard Blaise gasp behind her.
Hermione looked up to Severus, who was standing in front of her stone-faced. Oh, she was
going to hear back from this.
“Homework,” Severus began, still keeping eye contact with her. "Twelve inches of
parchment on the properties of moonstone and its uses in potion-making, to be handed in on
Thursday. The rest of you may go.”
He didn’t need to specify who was to stay. Hermione and Harry stayed seated side by side,
matching looks of defiance that had everyone - her friends included - whispering and shaking
their heads in disbelief.
“You wasted a perfectly brewed potion with your tantrum.” He told her, his voice low.
“I won’t have it.” She said, her eyes hard. “They took the Perfect badge from me, they won’t
take my accomplishes.”
“You seem to be doing that yourself.” He replied.
“Are we going to address the fact that you obliterated my potion while Goyle set his robes on
fire?” Harry asked, his voice trembling.
“What have I told you about your anger?” He ignored the question, asking Harry instead.
“That it can control me.”
“Exactly.” He said. “You spent an hour and a half bubbling more than your potion.”
“You throwing it all out doesn’t do much for my anger!”
Severus levelled him a look, “I don't need to have it on a flask to know when a potion it’s
acceptable or not.” He said. “Every eye on this school is on the three of us.” Severus sat
down in front of them, his back to the blackboard. “I need them to talk, I need some things to
get to some ears.”
“And for that, you will fuck up my work?”
“Language,” Severus said sharply. “Listen to me Harry, my words and actions in this
classroom will not reflect on your grades and they surely don’t reflect on my opinion of you.”
“You don’t need to humiliate me to prove your point,” Harry mumbled, crossing his arms
around his chest.
Hermione watched. There was a difference right there: the Occlumency lessons seemed to
not only be working but having another effect as well. They were building trust. Harry would
never behave so young in front of Severus before. His anger was also leaving him, he didn’t
shake anymore and his eyes didn’t have that weird green glint to them.
“No,” Severus agreed, “I don’t.” He turned to Hermione then, “You, on the other hand, I
won’t be doing anything about this.” He pointed to the mess she had made on the floor. “You
can work on getting the chance to brew it again after detention on Wednesday.”
Harry snorted, “you do favour her.” He said.

Severus smirked at them, deciding to not reply. “You will be joining your sister on detention,
where we will be continuing our lessons.”
“Awesome,” Harry muttered, the sarcasm clear.
Severus let them leave without a single point removed, which Hermione knew that it was
Severus’ way of apologising.
They turned around the corner to go in the direction of the Great Hall for lunch.
“The comment about your boyfriend,” Harry began, “I saw the two of you on the map on our
first day. Was that a fight or a conversation?”
“Both.”
“And?”
Hermione considered, Harry was actually asking. For the first time, he seemed to be honestly
curious and worried. He was trying. “We are fine, but no one can know. Not even my friends
do.”
He nodded, “you can have the cloak or the map if you want to sneak. Merlin knows I don’t
want to see your dot that close to his ever again.”
Hermione blushed and looked away, the last thing she needed was Harry catching her and
making out with Draco through the map.
“Thank you.”
He shrugged. “Are you free tomorrow around five? I want to tell you about Regulus.”
She nodded and chuckled. “Before you tell me anything, I just want to put it out there, but I
really hoped you had learned your lesson about reading other people’s journals.”
Harry laughed and it was a nice change. “I promise you, Hermione, this one didn’t talk
back.”
“Okay, good. So? Don’t leave me hanging. What did you learn?”
“I’m pretty sure Regulus died very much in love with my dad,” Harry said with a slight shake
of his head.
“Oh!”
Harry made a small sound of amusement, “yeah, it’s weird, isn’t it? I mean, it’s obvious but
at the same time is crazy that my dad and mum had a life before one another, that they had
other people in love with them. But I guess the weirdest thing is that they were actually real,
mum and dad.”
“I know what you mean,” she said, “for so long you only knew what they looked like, now
you are finally getting to know them.”
“Exactly! And I’m getting different sides of them as well. Regulus wrote a lot, he had tons of
journals for every school year, I started from his fourth year, but I didn’t finish all of them—
Actually, I brought a few.”
“Harry!”
“Sirius doesn’t care about it.” He said with a shrug. “He still is pretty upset about him. He
refused to enter his brother’s bedroom after we talked and then later I saw him calling his
brother’s picture at the tapestry stupid.”
Hermione couldn’t even imagine how’d she react if she had been in Sirius’ shoes, to come
back for her last year at Hogwarts to find out her brother is now a Death Eater and then one
year later hear the news of his death.
“Remus said he became a death eater at sixteen,” Hermione said in a whisper. He had been
her age.
“Yeah, I haven’t got to that part yet,” he said, but Hermione noticed that he didn’t seem much
bothered by it. He chuckled as he pulled his backpack to his chest and removed a journal
from the inside. He tapped the cover affectionately, “he’s currently considering the merits of
asking someone called Evan to throw a bludger at dad’s head in the next Quidditch game.”
“What? Why?”
“Because he couldn’t stop thinking about kissing him.” Harry laughed, “it’s a curious logic,
faulty but he’s Sirius’ brother, so what can we expect?”
Hermione laughed and tried to imagine the scene. Harry seemed happy, so she told him, “I
can’t wait to hear about him.”
“Me too, actually.” He said and then paused for a second, “do you think it’s weird? That I
want to read his stuff? He was like Pettigrew in the end, wasn’t he? A Death Eater.”
“No,” she said, “Pettigrew betrayed Lily and James. He pretended to be their friend until the
very end. He blamed Sirius and escaped. And now he has returned to Voldemort’s side.”
Hermione explained. “The reason why Regulus died was that he tried to leave Voldemort. I
don’t think they are the same.”
“And you are the specialist on shady Death Eaters.” Harry joked.
Hermione snorted but quickly shook her head, “I wish.” for then I would be able to
understand Lucius, she thought.
They were at the main doors by then and quickly went to their respective tables. Her friends
waited for her with anxious eyes. Pansy was the first to speak, “You are mad!” She said,
“Absolutely bonkers!”
Hermione rolled her eyes, Blaise leaned in to ask, “what did he do?”
“Put us both in detention.” She replied, “on Wednesday.”
“At least he didn’t remove any points,” Daphne said.
“What points?” Theo asked, pointing at the hourglass, “no one has gotten any point yet.”
They didn’t have any points and by how things were going, they wouldn’t be getting any
anytime soon. By dinner, everyone knew that Harry had gotten another detention during
Gryffindor’s Defence Against the Dark Arts class with Umbridge.
Hermione learned why on the next day when it was their turn to have a class with the woman.
“Well, good afternoon!” Umbridge said when the whole class had sat down, just a few of
them replied to her, “Tut, tut,” she said like they were preschool students. “That won’t do,
now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply ‘Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.’ One
more time, please. Good afternoon, class!”
They exchanged amused glances between them, Hermione saw that Vince was a sneer away
from a laugh. “Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge,” they chanted back at her, far too
amused.
“There, now,” Professor Umbridge said sweetly. “That wasn’t too difficult, was it? Wands
away and quills out, please.”
Hermione frowned, Theo and Blaise had matching confused expressions. Never did the
words ‘wands away’ had accompanied a Defence class.
They watched as she wrote Defence Against the Dark Arts: A Return to Basic Principles on
the board and Hermione placed her book on her desk, she had read the entire thing over the
summer and if Umbridge’s class were anywhere as boring as the text they were all truly
doomed.
“Well now, your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn’t it?”
She stated, turning to face the class with her hands clasped neatly in front of her. “The
constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-
approved curriculum, has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we
would expect to see in your O.W.L. year. You will be pleased to know, however, that these
problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centred,
Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please.”
She rapped the blackboard again; the first message vanished and was replaced by three
course aims: Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic; Learning to recognise
situations in which defensive magic can legally be used; Placing the use of defensive magic
in a context for practical use.”
Defence, defence and defence. The main goal of the class was very clear.
“Has everybody got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?” She asked
and most students either murmured their assent or just nodded their heads. “I think we’ll try
that again,” she said. “When I ask you a question, I should like you to reply ‘Yes, Professor
Umbridge,’ or ‘No, Professor Umbridge.’ So, has everyone got a copy of Defensive Magical
Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?”
“Yes, Professor Umbridge,” rang through the room. This time she caught Draco’s eye when
Hermione turned to look at her friends’ reactions. He mouthed, ‘Puppet’ at her before looking
firmly ahead.
“Good,” said Professor Umbridge. “I should like you to turn to page five and read chapter
one, ‘Basics for Beginners.’ There will be no need to talk.”
With a final look around the classroom, Professor Umbridge left the blackboard and settled
herself in the chair behind the teacher’s desk, observing them all with those pouchy toad
eyes. Hermione hadn’t bothered to open her book. She raised her hand in the air and stared
fixedly at Professor Umbridge.
“Hermione, please,” Blaise whispered next to her.
She merely shook her head slightly to indicate that she was not about to answer questions,
and continued to stare at Professor Umbridge, who was looking just as resolutely in another
direction. She was being purposely ignored. After several more minutes had passed, however,
Hermione noticed that all her classmates had forgone the reading to watch the scene. It
wasn’t like the majority of them needed a better excuse to not obey a simple reading
instruction.
Finally, when it was obvious that no one was reading anymore, Umbridge forced herself to
look in Hermione’s direction. “Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?”
“Not about the chapter, no,” Hermione replied.
“Well, we’re reading just now,” Professor Umbridge said, showing her small, pointed teeth.
She looked like a cat doing it. “If you have other queries we can deal with them at the end of
class.”
Not bothered, Hermione continued. “I’ve got a query about your course aims,” next to her,
Blaise hid his mouth behind his hand.
Professor Umbridge raised her eyebrows. “And your name is — ?”
She paused. “Hermione Granger,” she replied.
Umbridge’s eyes twinkled. “Well, Miss Granger, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if
you read them through carefully,” her voice had a determined sweetness that Hermione didn’t
buy for a single second.
“Well, I don’t,” she said bluntly. “There’s nothing written up there about using defensive
spells.”
“Using defensive spells?” Professor Umbridge repeated with a little laugh. “Why, I can’t
imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to use a defensive spell,
Miss Granger. You surely aren’t expecting to be attacked during class?”
Murmuring began around her. Even with their schooling disrupted and fragmented, they
learned and used defensive spells. Hell, even Barty Crouch Jr. had taught them more than
Umbridge seemed intent to. She made a small sound and Umbridge gave yet another
saccharine smile.
“Yes, Miss Granger? You wanted to ask something else?”
“Yes,” she said. “Surely the whole point of Defense Against the Dark Arts is to practice
defensive spells?”
“Are you a Ministry-trained educational expert, Miss Granger?” Professor Umbridge asked in
her falsely sweet voice.
“No, but —”
“Well then, I’m afraid you are not qualified to decide the ‘whole point’ of any class. Wizards
much older and cleverer than you have devised our new program of study. You will be
learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way—”
Suddenly, Theo’s hand was in the air too. Blaise muttered something that Hermione didn’t
quite catch.
“Yes, Mr…?”
“Theodore Nott.”
“Oh.” She said and her eyes hardened for a moment. “Do you have a question, Mr Nott?”
“Yes.” He said, “What’s the point of learning spells without actually practising them?” He
asked. “If we’re going to be attacked it won’t be in a —”
“Attacked? Whom do you imagine would bother themselves attacking children like
yourselves, Mr Nott?” inquired Professor Umbridge in a horribly honeyed voice.
“I'm not imagining anything professor,” he replied, using the same horrible honeyed voice.
“As I’m sure you read in the International Matters session of the Prophet, I was actually
attacked this summer.”
Umbridge snorted, “That? Oh, my dear, you and I both know that was you being silly.”
Hermione gasped, and both Blaise and Daphne mirrored the sentiment. “Being silly!” Blaise
said exasperatedly, “There's nothing silly in being followed by a pair of Death Eaters!”
“You didn’t raise your hand.” Umbridge said, and before she could continue, Daphne had
raised her hand, “Yes, Miss?”
“Daphne Greengrass and there's nothing silly in being followed by a pair of Death Eaters,”
she said, repeating word for word of Blaise had said, “Should I open my book and read the
theory when a Death Eater appears in front of me?”
“There’s no such thing as Dead Eaters out there. The ministry has rounded all of them up
when all of you were still in diapers.” She said and there was an all-around scoff. One had to
be very stupid to say such a thing in a room with five students who were children of Death
Eaters. Hermione included! “I admit,” Professor Umbridge said, smiling in a very irritating
fashion at Daphne, “I do not wish to criticize the way things have been run in this school,”
she said, an unconvincing smile stretching her wide mouth, which told Hermione that she
was about to criticise how things had been run in the school, “but you have been exposed to
some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed — not to mention,”
she gave a nasty little laugh, “extremely dangerous half-breeds.”
“If you mean Professor Lupin,” Hermione snapped, her voice louder than she planned.
“Hand Miss Granger! As I was saying — you have been introduced to spells that have been
complex, inappropriate to your age group, and potentially lethal. You have been frightened
into believing that you are likely to meet Dark attacks every other day —”
“No we haven’t,” Hermione said, “we just —”
“Your hand is still not up, Miss Granger!” Umbridge said and Hermione put up her hand with
a sigh; Professor Umbridge turned away from her. “It is my understanding that my
predecessor not only performed illegal curses in front of you, he actually performed them on
you —”
“Well, he turned out to be a Death Eater, didn’t he?” Theo asked hotly.
“Your hand is not up, Mr Nott!” trilled Professor Umbridge. “Now, it is the view of the
Ministry that theoretical knowledge will be more than sufficient to get you through your
examination, which, after all, is what school is all about.”
Pansy raised her hand then, “Yes, Miss?”
“Pansy Parkinson and what are we supposed to do when we have to take the Practical part of
our O.W.L?"
“As long as you have studied the theory hard enough, there is no reason why you should not
be able to perform the spells under carefully controlled examination conditions,” Professor
Umbridge answered dismissively.
“Without ever practising them before?” Daphne asked incredulously. “Are you telling us that
the first time we’ll get to do the spells will be during our exam?”
“I repeat, as long as you have studied the theory hard enough—”
“This is absurd!” Hermione exclaimed, her hand be damned. Umbridge turned to glare at her,
but Hermione simply raised her voice, “Voldemort is back.” She said, “Death Eaters tried to
turn Theo in one and—”
“Ten points from Slytherin, Miss Granger.” The classroom was silent and still. “Now, let me
make a few things quite plain.” Professor Umbridge stood up and leaned toward them, her
stubby-fingered hands splayed on her desk. “You have been told that a certain Dark wizard
has returned from the dead and is at large once again. This is a lie.”
“It is not a lie!” Hermione repeated. “My brother—”
“You can join your brother in detention Miss Granger!” Professor Umbridge said
triumphantly as if Hermione had played exactly into her hand. “Today evening. Five o’clock.
My office. I repeat this is a lie. The Ministry of Magic guarantees that you are not in danger
from any Dark wizard. If you are still worried, by all means, come and see me outside class
hours. If someone is alarming you with fibs about reborn Dark wizards, I would like to hear
about it.” She said, looking pointedly at Draco, Milli, Tracy, Vince and Greg. The only ones
who had been silent since the beginning of the class. “I am here to help. I am your friend.
And now, you will kindly continue your reading. Page five, ‘Basics for Beginners.’”
Hermione grabbed her book and put it down on the table rather forcefully. “Voldemort is
back and you know it.” She said, “That's the only reason you are here, isn’t it?” Hermione
asked. “The Minister needs a puppet to enforce the narrative the Ministry is trying very hard
to shove down on our throats.”
Professor Umbridge’s face was quite blank. For a moment he thought she was going to
scream. Then she said, in her softest, most sweetly girlish voice, “Well, I already sent your
brother to his head of house… I don’t think sending you to yours will make much difference
since he’s your father.”
This time it was Hermione who smiled sweetly. This time, Umbridge had played into her
hand. “It was Voldemort who revealed that Professor Snape is my father! It curious that you
would believe that but not that he’s back.”
“Out,” Umbridge said. “Right now.”
And so Hermione left the first lesson of Defence Against the Dark Arts of the year before its
end for the second consecutive time.
In the end, she went to her father’s office of her own volition. He was probably teaching, so
she sat down in the chair in front of his desk to wait for him.
Chapter End Notes
we all know that harry was an unreliable narrator because he is so immensely unaware
of things, but I always wondered how Ron or Hermione never seemed to crack with
everything that happened to them. Well, in here Hermione is cracking. She is very
rational, and I see her as someone who would have trouble identifying her emotions and
acting accordingly. Here, with everything that's happening in her life, the emotions are
leaking and she has yet to notice that some behaviours are not characteristically hers.
The title and quote at the beginning belong to my tears ricochet by Taylor Swift.
Please let me know in the comments what you think!! if I don't post a new chapter
before, I wish all of you wonderful end-of-year celebrations!!
time and hearts will wear us thin
Chapter Notes
First of all!! Happy new year!! I hope everyone had a lovely time and I wish all of you
an amazing 2023!!
This chapter was born in Vienna Airport during a five-hour layover in the middle of the
night. I flew back to my hometown on the 1st of January and I'm finally rested and
settled in so that's why it took me a while to post it. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!
There's a slightly non-con part towards the end when Hermione goes to her detention
without Harry. Read carefully.
sitting all alone in the dark

a dumb screenshot of youth
watch how a broken teen will desperately lean
upon a superglued human of proof
Chapter Forty-Eight
Dolores Umbridge was waiting for him to finish his last class of the day. She had a
parchment in her hand which she handed to him after proudly announcing, “I’d expected
more of your daughter, Severus. It turns out nurture is stronger than nature when it comes to
those muggles.”
He read the parchment, that told him his daughter would be attending detention every
evening at five for a week.
Merlin, too much for keeping her head down.
Severus looked up at the woman, noticing her expectant expression and replied, “I assure you
if she were indeed my daughter I’d expect more as well.” He watched as the woman smiled
sweetly before turning her back.
Severus walked the short distance from his classroom to his office to find said daughter
waiting for him. “I assume the reason you are here is related to this parchment in my hand?”
Hermione turned and she looked furious. He noticed that she curled her lips inward just as he
did, in fact, Hermione wore her anger exactly as he did. Severus made a mental note to start
Occluding whenever he was angered, so people wouldn’t have yet another thing to talk about.
“She's terrible!” Hermione said, standing up and growing in her anger. “She doesn't us to use
our wands at all! It’s Defence Against the Dark Arts, not History of Defence Against the
Dark Arts!” She started to count Umbridge’s offences on her fingers, “She offended Remus,
undermined the attack on Theo, called my brother a liar and had the nerve to boldly say there
are no such things as Death Eaters at large! What are you then?!”
Merlin. Was this what being the father of a teenage girl was like? He watched her entire rant
and then waited for her to catch her breath and realise what she had just ended with. When
she did, he levelled her with a look. “You have no sense of self-preservation, how you
managed to sort Slytherin is beyond me.”
It was her turn to level him with a look. It was clear she wanted to say something to disagree
with him, but just out of spite she was showing self-preservation. “Am I to take her
absurdities silent?”
“Yes.” He said, “I told you yesterday. She’s here for a reason. The minister wants to expose
Dumbledore and they want to take whomever they need with him. You and your brother
cannot fall prey to her.”
Hermione sighed, but then tilted her head and - with an expression that chilled his bones
because he knew, without a shred of doubt, she had learned it from Lucius - asked, “can’t you
give me detention so I have to serve with you instead of her?”
For years, Severus wondered what he could ever have with his daughter if anything. He
wondered if he would ever be able to offer her advice without the cover of being her Head of
House or to console her in times of despair, but he had never imagined that he would have
her trying to buy him off before she even got to call him father.
She was a Slytherin after all.
“Not even if I wanted to, I would.” He replied.
And Severus Snape regretted those words very soon.
It was past midnight on the next day when his wards alerted him of someone swinging open
his office door. He quickly jumped from the bed and wrapped a night robe around his
pyjamas and was ready to curse whoever deemed it necessary to barge inside that late.
Of course, it was Hermione and Harry.
“Look at this!” She said as a greeting, grabbing Harry’s wrist and shoving his hand in
Severus’ direction. Harry had the sense to look terrified. “This was our detention! Bloody
torture! Literally!”
“Hermione, it is past midnight, please turn it down.” He said but quickly moved to observe
the boy’s hand.
The vague smudges of a word were wretched onto the boy’s skin, he couldn’t quite yet make
out what was written there, but he recognised the signs of what had been used at once. He
turned to her, “let me see your hand.”
“It's fine,” she said, showing him, “I refused to do it once I realised what it was doing.”
Severus took in a large breath. He could begin to feel his fingers twitching, the need for his
wand, for a simple flick of his wrist, a spell at the tip of his tongue. Oh, he’d make Dolores
Umbridge pay.
“I doubt she took it fine.” He said.
“She told me I will have to keep going until the words sink.”
“Tell me exactly what happened.” Severus hissed, all but shoving the pair down onto the
chairs.
“She told us to write some lines,” Harry began, as Severus rummaged to find some essence of
Murtlap to give him, “And gave us a quill that didn’t require ink.”
He turned at once, “How was this quill?” He asked.
“It was a long, thin black one with an unusually sharp point.” He said.
How could she?
“Continue.”
“She told me to write ‘I must not tell lies,’ and to Hermione—”
“I must respect authorities’”
“And when we asked how many times, she told us as long as it takes for the message to sink
in.”
“And every letter had us gasping in pain, the letters were in shining red ink! It was our
blood!” Hermione resumed the retelling of events. “Do you know how many letters are there
in the word authorities?”
“I do, yes.”
“As the words appeared on the parchment in red ink—” Harry continued.
“Our blood!” Hermione added.
“—At the same time, the words appeared on the back of our right hand, cutting into our skin
—”
“Like with a scalpel!” She said, “the words kept healing, but when I realised that the first I
was not fading anymore I put down the quill.” Hermione pointed to Harry, “this Dollop-head
kept going!”
“I didn’t want to stay there the entire night because you refused to cooperate!”
“I refused to be tortured, you mean!”
“You got yourself a year-long detention because of your stubbornness!”
“She will have to catch me first!” Hermione replied, Severus was starting to feel the
beginning of a headache. “I won’t pick that quill again, I refuse!”
“What will you do when she forces you to? Huh?”
“That's enough!” He said, raising a hand between the pair. Merlin. This is what it was like to
have two teenagers.
“I won’t go there again.”
“I said that’s enough.” He repeated. “I will go to the headmaster. Umbridge used a Blood
Quill, which is illegal. He won’t have it.”
“We have to return tomorrow, and every day this week,” Harry said.
“Not if I talk to Dumbledore first.”
But Dumbledore had been nowhere to be found. From morning to dinner, Severus used every
spare moment he had to make the trek to the Headmaster’s office, only to find it empty.
Albus hadn’t been to any of the meals and Minerva also didn’t seem to know where he went.
He would have to go around Umbridge himself.
Severus stalked to Minerva’s classroom, where she was finishing teaching a group of helpless
first years. “Professor McGonagall, if I could have a minute of your time.”
She glared at him for the interruption - he had let his own students out early to catch her and
make sure that Umbridge was still in her own classroom - but nodded at him.
The group of Hufflepuffs watched him wearily as he stalked through the classroom. He
handed Minerva a parchment which had new information on Harry’s detention slip from the
first day. “Burn the first one. If she comes inquiring, show her this one.”
Minerva's eyes narrowed. He had changed the time of the boy’s detention to clash with
Umbridge’s and by her expression, she seemed to have noticed it. “I will await an
explanation.”
He nodded, “Inform him of the changes,” he said and left without another word.
For the first time in Harry Potter’s life, the boy arrived early for detention with him. They
still had fifteen minutes until five but Harry was already there waiting for Hermione to arrive.
“I was worried she would snatch me on the corridor if I left closer to five.”
Severus nodded, “Let's hope your sister has the same mind.” He had already set aside the
dirty cauldrons in need of scrubbing and was almost finished placing the boxes containing the
fresh ingredients and the empty jars in which they’d be put inside and labelled.
Hermione arrived exactly at five. “I had Professor Flitwick,” Hermione said as a greeting,
"she was waiting outside her office, at the foot of the main staircase on the second floor. I had
to climb back to the fourth floor to take the swivelling staircase to get past the second floor
without her seeing me.”
“I’d say Umbridge will allow ten minutes before she comes knocking.” He told them, “Let’s
get on with it.” Looking at Hermione, Severus pointed at the cauldrons, “I need you to scrub
them—” she made a face of displeasure, “—but before I want you to tell me which potions
could have been brewed in them recently by the remains.” Her face changed, she now looked
interested in the task. “A lot can be learned by what’s left behind.”
Hermione nodded and set to work. It was the first time he saw someone pull their sleeves
with such gusto.
He turned to Harry and handed him a list, “Here you have the instructions of what you need
to do. I want these jars filled with the correct amount of the ingredients indicated. You are to
count and label them accordingly. I expect you to recognise these ingredients by now.” Harry
took a look inside the boxes and nodded. Maybe Severus could save him after all. “But
there’s something else—” Harry snapped his green eyes up, ready to complain, “—this is an
Occlumency lesson. Counting helps to calm your thoughts. I want you to focus on clearing
your mind while you work. I will try to breach your mind randomly while you work. Every
time I’m successful I will add another jar to your list.”
“That's not fair!”
“That’s completely fair. Now begin.”
Severus sat down on his chair and began grading the first assignments of the week. As it
turned out, Umbridge gave them seven minutes.
She didn’t knock as she strode in, “what's the meaning of this?” She demanded, “They have a
detention with me! Or have you forgotten?” Umbridge asked the pair, who had stopped to
look at her. Thankfully, they both remained silent.
“There might have been some misunderstanding,” Severus began, “For they have detention
with me now.”
Umbridge smiled sweetly, “Oh Severus, maybe a potion or two would do well, as I remember
clearly giving you her slip just yesterday.”
“I'm certain so, Professor Umbridge,” he drawled, “as the board with every detention for the
week is for every professor to see in the Staff Room. Since this detention was given on a
Monday morning, prior to yours, mine takes precedence. Maybe you have missed?”
“It might have been so.” She replied with another smile, but her voice had that trill which
betrayed her true emotions. She looked at Hermione, who had grease on her elbows and her
hair was all over the place from scrubbing - only the girl’s hair would get that wild in such
little time -, Umbridge turned to look at Harry and there, her eyes darkened considerably,
there was a hatred in there that could have matched his own five years ago, with the slight
difference that Severus had never wished actual harm on the boy. Harry too, already was
showing signs of stress from his task, but Umbridge would never know it was from the
Occlumency rather than his task. “No problem, they will be mine tomorrow.”
He clenched his jaw. He needed Dumbledore back.
“At five.” He said with a curt nod.
There was no way he could get away with another stunt like this one two days in a row. Even
if he could, he didn’t dare. At first, it seemed she was merely Fudge’s pawn, but the Blood
Quill was an addition that Cornelius Fudge would never have allowed. Voldemort had been
quiet, but what if he had yet another Defence Against the Dark Arts professor on the job? If
he were to find that Umbridge was actually reporting to Voldemort, he would have to be very
careful about how he treated both Harry and Hermione, or neither of them would survive the
year.
They watched her leave and it was five minutes before either of them said anything. Severus
looked at the pair, they were clearly relieved to have escaped her, Harry had gone as far as
sighing in relief. Severus had never been on the receiving end of a Blood Quill, but if the
boy’s hand was still smudged even after the essence of Murlap, Severus wondered how much
pain it actually was.
“I can’t protect you tomorrow.” He said. “If I can’t contact Dumbledore in time, you will
have to go.”
“We will refuse to write,” Hermione said.
“She will keep us there the entire night!” Harry argued, “isn’t it better to just get this over and
done with?”
His daughter opened her mouth to retort, but he had seen the flash of her eyes and exactly
what she would say. Severus glared at her to keep her quiet.
“What she’s doing is torture, Harry,” Severus said. It was heartbreaking how one could
recognise it as it was so easily while the other was still willing to go with it. “Being
compliant to it won’t give you respite.”
Holding his gaze, Harry answered. “But it will keep her from making it worse.”
Those were the words of a boy who knew. Severus had caught a glimpse, a smidge on a
window of fourteen years of existence under that house. Those were the words of a boy who
had bargained his entire life, who had accepted neglect so it wouldn’t turn to abuse. Until it
had and he had to bargain again. And again. Severus too had chosen a slap when the other
option was the belt, and at ten and eleven, the choice felt like power, like control. Until the
choice was between the belt and hot fire poker.
It had taken Severus many years to realise those shouldn’t have been choices at all.
Hermione was gripping the edge of the cauldron so tightly that she had drawn blood.
“No, it won’t.” He told the boy, “You give in to her now and the next time you as much as
breathe wrong she will find something worse.” Severus looked at the pair then, “Tomorrow,
you won’t pick up that quill. I don’t care if she tells you to spend the night sitting in her
office, neither of you will write a single letter.” Harry didn’t seem satisfied, but he merely
nodded, “Promise me.”
“Okay, all right.” He said, “I promise.”
He turned to Hermione, “I promise.”
Severus let them resume their work, Harry was quick to continue but Hermione took longer
to remove her eyes from her brother.
The week seemed to drag. Dumbledore was gone for the majority of the week. Apparently,
his plan of avoiding Fudge and Umbridge consisted of disappearing from their sight
completely. Such a plan, however, meant that Hermione and Harry spent evening after
evening staring at their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. As promised, they didn’t
touch their quill and were currently on the third day of the staring contest they had begun on
Thursday.
But on Sunday, Harry asked if he could be dismissed to attend the Gryffindor Quidditch
Tryout on Monday, to which Umbridge smiled and replied, “Of course, you just have to write
your lines.”
To Hermione's horror, Harry picked up the quill.
“Harry, no!”
“It seems Mr Potter has finally come to his senses.” More like, lost his!
“You will have your blood spilt for a game?” Hermione asked, her eyes wide.
They had barely slept that past few days, arriving at five on the dot and leaving usually past
one, to which they had quickly learned was Umbridge’s attempt to have Filch catching them
and consequently allowing Umbridge to give out more detentions. Fortunately, they didn’t
know that Harry had an invisibility cloak and the map in his hands which allowed them to
evade Filch who was always very conveniently placed on the third-floor corridor.
Three more days. They had three more days and they were done. How… How could Harry
think that going to a bloody tryout was worth hurting himself over?
She watched him write, tears falling from her eyes as her brother refused to give a single
reaction. Hermione couldn’t even begin to feel proud that the Occlumency lessons were
working as his face remained impassive when the only thing she would think of was how
little Harry valued his life. Every new line was like a cut on Hermione’s own heart. She had
known why Severus shut her down that day, they had understood at once: The Dursleys.
Hermione hadn’t been able to believe her ears then and now she couldn’t believe her eyes.
What else had he chosen?
What part of himself had he given for breakfast? How much Dudley’s second bedroom had
cost him? Harry had burn marks on the outer part of both of his wrists. Were those the price
of a meal?
Hermione couldn’t remove her eyes from her brother’s hand, which was currently bleeding
horribly. How many times had he bled since the night James and Lily gave their life for
them? How many more times would he bleed before she lost him?
Suddenly, the most horrible thought crossed her mind and Hermione felt her entire body
shaking. It was almost like she was about to explode. She could feel her magic and twice she
blinked, just to be sure that she wasn’t seeing things, but there it was, contorting her fingers
and arms. Hermione quickly snapped her eyes towards Umbridge, to make sure the woman
hadn’t seen the golden hue around her hands, but she was too busy smiling to herself with her
eyes closed, she was getting pleasure from Harry’s torture.
The golden hue grew brighter and Harry turned to look at her with wide eyes. Hermione took
a deep breath and Occluded as hard and as quickly as possible. Her body was hot and she
could feel sweat dripping from the back of her neck down her spine.
What? he mouthed.
Hermione shook her head. The golden hue was gone, but the thought had stayed: Harry
would give his life if it was asked of him.
After what seemed like hours, after Hermione had silently cried just as much as Harry had
silently bled, Umbridge let them go.
They pulled the cloak over them in silence and didn’t say a single word until they had crossed
the corridor and were on the main staircase, “I will walk you to the tower this time,” she said,
“I want the cloak.”
“Hermione—”
“No.” She said, “Not a word.”
For once, he complied.
They climbed the steps towards the Gryffindor tower together and then Hermione made the
track back alone, she didn’t bother lighting up her wand. For the first time since coming out
of that frigid lake, the darkness around her wasn’t terrifying.
She entered her common room and instead of going to her dormitory, sneaked inside the
boys’. Hermione had removed her shoes outside so as to not make any sound. They were all
sleeping, she could hear the cacophony of snores coming from around the room. The curtains
around Theo’s bed were pulled, showing that he wasn’t in his bed, which implied that he was
in Blaise’s bed with Blaise. Silently, she went around Blaise’s bed to where Draco’s was.
Even more silently, she pulled the curtains from Draco’s bed and climbed on his bed.
He woke up at once and rather than screaming in panic as she would have done, his body
simply stilled and his hand shot to her wand hand with impressing force. “It's me,” she
whispered in the dark. Draco removed his grip on her and pulled her down under the covers
next to him. Hermione folded her body against his, letting him hold her as she squeezed his
torso.
“What's wrong?” He whispered and under the covers he grabbed her hand, tracing the back of
it with his fingers to check for marks. Hermione had told him about Umbridge’s method of
detention and every moment they had managed to steal so far, he had first checked for any
signs on her.
“I just need you to hold me.” She told him, her lips buried in his throat. Draco complied.
His warmth and his beating heart against hers were more efficient than any other method to
calm her down. He was there. Still. No one had taken him from her. And no one would.
After a bit, when Hermione recognised her body as her own again, she quickly and quietly
got out of her skirt and school shirt to get more comfortable. Draco pressed his lips on her
forehead and let his hands roam through her body, whichever part he found that wasn’t as
close to him as he wished, he made sure to remedy it, until they were almost glued to one
another. His fingers still roamed her back and arms and Hermione allowed the soothing
movements to lull her to sleep.
Hermione woke up to noise around her, she raised her chin to find Draco watching her, his
grey eyes darker this early in the morning. Theo and Greg were arguing, their voices rising
with each passing sentence. Hermione didn’t dare to move, Draco hadn’t made any motion
that he intended to do so. There was some knocking around, a door opening and closing, and
the sound of the sink and then the shower. They waited, listening to the rustling of clothes, to
trunks being closed, until one by one the other boys left the dormitory, and no one bothered to
call for Draco.
“Is it always like this?” She asked. Hermione knew neither Theo nor Blaise were speaking to
Draco, but she didn’t know it extended to Vince and Greg as well.
“No. When I get up before Theo and Blaise leave, they make sure to show their
dissatisfaction.” He replied, “And I told Vince and Greg to not wait for me.”
“I'm sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” He said and as if suddenly realising that they were alone, he propped
himself up on top of her and leaned down for a kiss. She was quick to drop her arms around
his neck and pull him flush against her, they kissed lazily and to their bruised hearts’ content.
“Not that I didn’t absolutely love to have you here,” he began after they pulled back, “but
why were you here?” Hermione ran a finger through his cheek and cheekbone, Draco held
her wrist and kissed her palm, before keeping her hand close to his heart, “Hermione.”
“I think there’s something wrong with me.” She whispered.
“Impossible,”
“I'm being serious, Draco.”
“Me too,” he said, leaning down to kiss the tip of her nose and then both of her cheeks.
“Something happened yesterday during Umbridge’s detention.”
“What did she do?”
Hermione shook her head, “Nothing. At least not to me. But something happened with me.”
Draco sat up, pulling her with him, he offered her her shirt back and waited for her to finish
buttoning up before getting her into his lap, where they sat with their legs wrapped around
one another. “Tell me,” he asked. And she did. He listened to her in silence and when she got
caught up in her emotions again, he soothed her. “I remember it.” He told her when she was
finished, “it’s not like I can’t forget, but I remember you also. How you felt.”
“What?”
“The day Moody turned me into a ferret,” he said, “You were… You felt warm. We weren’t
touching but it was like I could feel you. Your magic. I almost wished Moody would keep
provoking you so I could feel it longer.”
“You are absurd,” she told him, shaking her head. He smiled and seemed to agree with her
that he was indeed absurd.
“You remember what he said? He asked you if that was how you did it, how you protected
your brother. What if it’s still there?”
Hermione shook her head, “it can’t be.” She said, “Severus told me that was Lily’s
protection, I don’t have her blood anymore, she—”
“Hermione, I don’t think that was Lily’s protection, I think that’s you, something you have.”
“Have you heard of anything like this?”
“There are many types of magic in the world. Some have been studied much more than
others, to flick a wand is not everything that there is to be done.” He told her, “Take Runes,
for example, there’s much more to it than simply reading ancient texts. One could simply boil
water or send an enemy to another world if they so wished with them.”
“But that’s it, isn’t it? If they so wished. I have no control over it, I felt like I was going to
explode.”
“So we learn.” He told her, cradling her face in his hands, “we scour the library, we study and
if you are a human Protego, then we will get you there.”
“Would you do that for me?”
“Hermione,” he whispered, “You will soon find that there’s almost nothing that I wouldn’t do
for you.”
She closed the distance between them, kissing him fiercely, almost desperate. Draco matched
her desperation, burying his hands in her hair and pressing their bodies together so that they
were both on their knees on the bed, every inch of their bodies close together. Merlin, she
loved him so much. There was no other explanation for the way he got her heart racing or her
blood rushing. Maybe every inch of Hermione was made to have him next to her. Maybe it
was. “I ended and began with you,” she told him, touching his now reddened lips with her
fingertips, “When my father took me away, he took me to you. Months ago, I found a
memory during one of my Occlumency lessons, this summer your mother told me what it
was.” She told him, “My last nights as Renee Potter I spent sleeping in your crib next to
you.”
“She never told me that,” Draco whispered, his grey eyes wide in surprise. How could she
ever let him go? When looking at him made her feel like she could kill a man with the fire in
his eyes, when her desire for him was so strong it haunted her? He smiled, cheekily and
incredibly, the one smile that was for her and for her only, she knew he was about to blurt
something ludicrously aristocratic, “Maybe that’s why I love mornings because you were my
ephemeral aubade.”
Hermione couldn’t know exactly what her face was doing at his words, but his expression
was so lovely that she knew was probably exploding with a fondness for him, “You are quite
ridiculous, you know that?”
“Ridiculously enamoured with you, yes.” He agreed, but finally, almost painfully, pulled
away from her, “we need to get going. We’ve missed breakfast already, we can’t be both late
for class.”
“I have Harry’s cloak, I will get us something to eat and find a way to give it to you.”
“Thank you,” he said and with a final slow kiss, both of them got out of bed and on to the day
where they wouldn’t even be able to look at one another.
It wasn’t just a want, it was a need for him that ached.
Hermione was certain it was to provoke her, but as it stood, her detention alone with
Umbridge had her sitting close to the window where she could see the Gryffindor Quidditch
Tryout. As always, Umbridge placed the quill and the parchment in front of Hermione, and as
always, Hermione stared her down.
Umbridge didn’t sit straight away, instead, she walked around her desk, running a finger on
the desk as she circled it, the dozens of cats in the pink plates followed her with their eyes. “I
believe,” she began with a honeyed voice, “that we can have a proper conversation today,
between girls.” Hermione didn’t reply, she had absolutely nothing to say to the woman.
Umbridge chuckled, “Hm. It seems your upbringing failed in teaching you manners and to
obey your superiors.”
If only there was someone ‘superior’, Hermione thought.
Umbridge turned, her eyes flashed something terrible and suddenly Hermione was staring at
the tip of a wand. Reflexively, she leaned back. Hermione’s eyes widened. “You leave me no
choice, if only you had cooperated.”
“You can’t!” Hermione said, her voice breaking at the last syllable.
“You will find that I can,” Umbridge replied, “Children are much like weeds, you can’t cut
them and expect them not to grow again, you have to use force, pull them from the soil by
ripping them. I wish I could use a less harsh method with you, but I see that the problem here
lies in your roots, you understand, don’t you? I will have to use force.”
Hermione found her voice, “You are threatening a student.” She said, “Dumbledore—”
“—Is not here.” Umbridge finished with a laugh, “he keeps proving how much of a coward
he is, hiding from the Ministry.”
“You won’t get away with it,” Hermione said, her voice level.
“Oh? And what are you going to do? Tell your dad?” She laughed, “which one? The muggle
one or the one that doesn’t care?” Umbridge laughed again, waving her wand theatrically in
front of Hermione. “Or are you telling the half-breed you have for a godfather? Maybe the
ex-convict?” Hermione felt her blood boiling, but forced herself to keep it together, she
wouldn’t react to the woman’s words, as she knew it was exactly what Umbridge wanted.
She kept on, “None of them has any power against my word. You will find little girl, that you
are talking to the Ministry when you talk to me.” Interesting. Dolores Umbridge was an
Undersecretary to the Minister, the job certainly didn’t have the amount of power she was
implying. Hermione decided to pay attention to the woman’s delusions of grandeur.
Minister Cornelius Fudge could be many things, but the man who refused to believe that
Voldemort had returned from pure fear of the public reaction didn’t seem like one to approve
of Umbridge’s methods, not even her rhetoric. It was much more conservative and purist that
Hermione had pegged Fudge by.
“So, you see?” She asked again and Hermione had to refocus once more, “whatever you think
you have to say, will fall on deaf ears. No one will care.” Umbridge then pouted as if it really
pained her to keep a wand pointed at a fifteen-year-old girl. “You’ve defied the authorities
long enough. You will write your lines.”
“I won’t,” Hermione said, forcing her body to stay still as the woman lowered the wand and
almost pressed the tip to her throat.
"You will write.” Umbridge sneered, “Imperio!”
Hermione could barely gasp in surprise and panic when her mind got to the same she began
feeling the same dreamy-like sensation when Barty had cast the spell on them. She tried to
concentrate, to fight the floating feeling of happiness, she felt her eyes watering as she glared
at Umbridge’s smiling face. But her mind was already a mumbled mess. She had no success
fighting the Imperio Curse last year, this time was no different.
“You are wilful,” Umbridge began, “but not enough.” She said with a smile, “Now write your
lines.”
She watched as her arm moved, reaching for the quill, it trembled as she tried to fight it, her
head felt heavy and every part of her wanted to just let go, to embrace this peaceful feeling.
Hermione began to write and slowly, with every new word on the parchment, felt more
relaxed and at peace. Suddenly, it didn’t make sense why she had spent so many days
fighting Umbridge or refusing to write. It wasn’t bad at all. She watched her skin tear open
and the blood drip down her wrist, but before it could be translated into pain, the same fog in
her mind pushed it away.
She wrote mindlessly, filling line after line and didn’t understand why her eyes were also
dripping down on the parchment. The sun had set outside, but she didn’t feel tired or hungry,
in fact, Hermione was perfectly content.
“That will be enough,” Umbridge said and Hermione watched with hazy eyes as the woman
flicked her wand. She blinked and felt her chest hurting from her pounding heart. Hermione
glanced from her bleeding hand to the one still gripping the quill. She dropped it at once,
horrified. “What—” she began, but as the fog dissipated, everything made sense again. Her
eyes widened as she took sight of Umbridge smiling in front of her like she hadn’t cast an
Unforgivable Curse and watched Hermione torture herself.
Hermione wanted to scream, she wanted to run and hide. She wanted to bang on her father’s
door and scream for help.
“Tomorrow your brother and you will return for our last detention,” Umbridge said, “I really
hope the message sunk this time. I’d hate for a repeat of this.”
“You cursed me,”
Umbridge smiled, “don’t you remember? You picked up the quill yourself.”
“Because you cast an Unforgivable Curse on me!” She retorted, her tears falling and wetting
her cheeks.
“Tomorrow you will write.” Umbridge said, ignoring Hermione, “and your brother will write
as well.” Hermione was shaking her head, terrified. “It is unpleasant, isn’t it? But it’s only
writing child, imagine if it was something dreadful as jumping through that window.”
Hermione gulped, she was quite certain her eyes would jump out of their sockets. “It is said
that your brother is a very good flier, but even Harry Potter needs a broom, doesn’t he?”
Her heart was pounding so hard in her chest that Hermione was afraid to open her mouth and
have it jump out of her throat.
“Off you go,” Umbridge said with a pleasant smile, and Hermione scampered to her feet,
almost tripping in her haste to leave. “Oh, Miss Granger, before I forget,” she said and
Hermione’s body froze, for a moment she thought it was the Imperio Curse again, but her
mind was still her own, “If I were you, I’d think before telling anyone, we wouldn’t want
anyone suffering for your mistakes now, would we?”
Hermione ran. The door behind her closed with Umbridge’s soft chuckles. Hermione ran
down the three flights of stairs, always jumping the last couple to make it faster, but she
didn’t turn to the stair that led to the dungeons no, Hermione kept running, past the doors of
the Great Hall and through the main entrance, she hit the grounds and it was a bit chilly for
an early September night, but Hermione welcomed the breeze and the sight of the stars above
her. Still running, she crossed the Viaduct Courtyard and got to the bridge, only stopping
when her lungs were about to give. Hermione heaved as she sat down, her back against the
stone, her knees pulled against her chest and her head thrown back. The moon was high and
halfway illuminated. Remus still had a few days before it became full.
Two shooting stars appeared crossed above her and Hermione didn’t have the strength of
mind to even wish for anything. She heard steps and quickly jumped to her feet, her wand in
hand. “Who's there?” Harry’s face appeared before the rest of his body, and Hermione sighed
in relief. “What are you doing here?” She asked.
“I was watching the map, waiting for your detention to end. I saw your name moving fast and
realised you were running. I decided to go after you when you didn’t make it to the
Dungeons.”
“I—” The lump in her throat kept the words inside.
“What happened?” He asked, sitting down next to her. Hermione showed her hand with the
scars and the dried blood. Harry flinched at the sight, “Why did you write?”
“She gave me no choice,” Hermione replied. “She—She used the Imperio Curse on me.”
“What? What the fuck?” Harry pulled away from her, his green eyes wide and slightly
panicked. The stars above them had nothing on his eyes. “It’s my fault, I’m so sorry
Hermione, I should never have left you alone. I’m sorry, it was so stupid, you were right, it’s
Quidditch, not—”
“Harry,” Hermione called, grabbing his arm and trying to quiet him. “It’s not your fault. She
would have done it anyway, if you were there, she’d have done it to you as well.”
“Then I should have been there.” He said, “it's my fault all my shit falls on you, it’s—”
“No.” Hermione snapped. She gripped Harry by the neck, forcing him to look at her. “None
of this is your fault, do you hear me? Nothing. You were a baby. If a delusional, genocidal
seventy-year-old is obsessed with you, it’s because he has some pretty serious issues.”
“But—“
“No. You are not ‘The-Boy-Who-Lived’, you are much more than that. You are Harry, you
are my brother, you are Ron’s best friend, you are Hogwarts’ youngest Seeker in ages, you
are Sirius’ godson—Merlin, you are Pansy’s Henry.” She said in exasperation and managed
to steal a laugh from Harry. “That title doesn’t define you, that title was forced on you and
you shouldn’t base your life’s worth on it.”
“It’s not easy, Hermione.”
“I know. But you have me for this, I won’t let you forget.”
“Thank you.” He said and leaned to press a kiss to her temple. And in a rare display of
affection, he left his forehead on her temple and murmured, “I’m sorry I don’t appreciate you
enough.”
She didn’t reply to that, and they stayed quiet for a while, leaning against one another, just
thinking about the chaos that was in their lives.
“Are you going to tell Snape?” He asked after the silence had become too loud.
“Yeah, but after tomorrow’s detention.” She replied. “if he heals my hand today it will only
hurt more tomorrow when the skin tears again.”
“He’s going to be murderous.”
“I'm not telling him about the Imperio.”
“Why not?”
“As you said, he’s going to be murderous. And I think Umbridge is not only working for the
Minister—He’s in enough danger as it is, I don’t want him to risk his position.”
“Do you think she’s with Voldemort?”
“I don’t know, but maybe? She said some weird things that got me thinking. And also,
Dumbledore is clearly avoiding her, he doesn’t seem like one to hide from a Ministry
official.”
“He hasn’t spoken to me since the day he went to Snape’s house with Sirius. I want to believe
that it’s because he’s busy but I can’t help but think he’s avoiding me.
She didn’t say that she thought he was right, that everything Dumbledore did was
meticulously calculated. If he wanted to talk to Harry - even as busy as he was - he’d have
found the time. She also didn’t say that she was pretty certain Dumbledore wanted Harry
isolated and in the dark with a lot of things so he’d be the only one Harry felt he could turn
to. Hermione had many opinions about Dumbledore, but she’d keep them to herself until she
became certain that Harry would agree with her. There still was a part of Harry who trusted
Dumbledore too much.
…
“—But last year your scar hurt when nobody was touching you, and didn’t Dumbledore say it
had to do with what Voldemort was feeling at the time?” She asked, they were coming back
from their last detention with Umbridge and the trek from her office to Severus’ became a
long one when they were under the cloak. “I mean, maybe this hasn’t got anything to do with
Umbridge at all, maybe it’s just coincidence it happened while she touched you?”
“She’s evil,” said Harry flatly. “Twisted.”
“She’s horrible, yes, but . . .” Hermione hesitated, because she wasn’t a big fan of
Dumbledore, “Harry, I think you ought to tell Dumbledore your scar hurt.”
He staggered, surprised with the suggestion. “I’m not bothering him with this. Like you just
said, it’s been hurting on and off all summer — it was just a bit worse tonight, that’s all —”
Hermione scoffed. The only thing Dumbledore bothered was Voldemort-related things.
“Harry, I’m sure Dumbledore would want to be bothered by this —”
“Yeah,” Harry said with a snort, “that’s the only bit of me Dumbledore cares about, isn’t it,
my scar?” Well.
“Okay, write Sirius then!”
“He will worry and—“
“That's his job.”
Harry snorted. “Didn’t you say yesterday how you were not going to tell your father about
being under an Unforgivable Curse?”
Hermione scowled. “Fine. Be a jerk.” She sighed and grew tense as they approached Severus’
office. “Ready?” Hermione asked, looking at Harry in apprehension. For the first time since
the start of their detentions with Umbridge, they had been dismissed before midnight.
She had been ecstatic that they had finally begun cooperating. Umbridge had gone on and on
about lessons learned and finding hope even in hopeless cases (being raised as muggles).
They had ignored every comment and focused on writing their lines.
They hesitated in front of the door, with Hermione’s hand hovering before Snape’s office
while her bleeding one hung next to Harry’s, she dreaded Severus’ reaction.
“He’s going to murder us.” Harry said and with a last - probably their final - breath, knocked
on the door.
They entered after the muffled 'come in’ and froze in place three steps in because Severus’
eyes were focused on their hands and she could see his expression shifting from annoyed to
furious. “I was wondering why the two of you took five minutes to knock. I can see why
now.”
He motioned them to sit as he stood up and went around his desk with a vial of something in
his hand. Her chest constricted with the knowledge that he was waiting for them. Did he wait
the day before as well? And every other before that?
“Sit,” he ordered. He pulled his chair to sit in front of them and watched their hands. “This is
not only from today.” He commented, “tell me, what was the difficulty in obeying a simple
order?”
Hermione and Harry looked down at their laps, only partly to hide from him.
“It was a question.”
Hermione felt Harry’s eyes skirting towards her and she glared at her lap. Don’t give me
away. He opened his mouth. “Harry wrote in an exchange for going to his quidditch tryouts
yesterday!” She said before he could say anything.
Harry gasped. “That was on Monday!”
Severus seemed to despise that, because he snatched Harry’s hand quite brusquely, making
Harry wince. “Sometimes you are so much like your father that makes me want to swallow
poison.” He said as he began to clean the wound on Harry’s hand. It was a little bit too
forceful in her opinion.
“At least it’s only sometimes now,” Harry murmured in reply and Severus made a noise of
annoyance. Hermione bit her lip to not chuckle, but Severus turned to her with a raised
eyebrow that was quite clear just how unamused he was.
“And you? What did you bargain?”
“Nothing.” She replied quickly. Too quickly. Harry looked away.
“Hermione.”
“Nothing!”
He looked between the pair, grew even more annoyed that he couldn’t read anything from
their expressions and said, “I didn’t teach you two Occlumency so both of you could lie to
me.”
“I'm not lying!”
“But you are not telling the truth either.” He retorted. “Hermione. Tell me.”
“She—” Hermione hesitated and shot a nervous glance towards Harry.
“I think it would be better if you finish healing my hand first,” Harry muttered and Hermione
kicked his calf. He tried to hide his smirk on his shoulder, but it only made Hermione kick
him again.
“What. Did. She. Do?” Severus asked again, enunciating every word.
“She forced me to write.” Hermione said quietly, “Yesterday when Harry didn’t go. She gave
me no choice.”
He narrowed his eyes, not believing her. “Clearly you still have a will and I’m well aware of
just how stubborn you are. The pair of you, actually.”
“Erm—She—I mean—”
“Umbridge used the Imperio Curse on her.” Harry said, Severus dropped the hand. “Ouch.”
He hissed.
Hermione didn’t dare to glare at her brother, she simply waited in bathed breath. Severus -
her father - was looking at her with an indecipherable expression. She couldn’t know whether
he wanted to murder or hug her.
There was a small vein pulsing on his throat and his eyes were so dark that Hermione grew
terrified he would soon explode. The only time she had seen him this angry was when she
and Harry had helped Sirius escape almost two years ago.
“I want you to tell me, word for word, of what happened yesterday and today.” He told her,
his voice dangerously cold, she was certain he had dropped the temperature of the office by
five degrees with just his tone.
Hermione took a deep breath, gave Harry a last look in goodbye and began telling him
everything. She made sure to start from Harry’s brilliant plan on Sunday. If she was to have
the berating of her life, Harry would get his fair share as well.
Severus stayed eerily quiet as she spoke. It made sense that he was a spy, because even
though he was in front of her, he was unmoving and his eyes unblinking. She wasn’t
occluding, but not once she felt him trying to slip inside her mind. Hermione wondered if she
would.
“—so we just decided to write the lines she wanted without a moment of hesitation because I
didn’t trust her to not do something worse under the spell.”
“You should have come to me immediately.” He said, in barely contained fury.
“I worried you—”
“You worried?” He interrupted her. His voice was even lower. This was worse. Much worse
than third year screaming match. Even Harry was curling in on himself afraid Severus would
strike. “You?”
“Your cover with Vold—“
“To hell with it!” He exploded and both she and Harry jumped on their seats. He looked at
them and seemed to compose himself. The vein in his temple seemed to be the one to explode
now. He grabbed Harry’s hand again to finish treating it. “This will leave a scar.” He told
Harry, completely avoiding the previous topic. “If you had come to me I could have treated it
immediately.” Harry didn’t seem to trust his voice, so he just nodded. “Apply this every day
until it’s finished. It will make the letters stand out less so they will be unreadable.”
“Thank you.”
Severus snarled in response. “Go.”
Harry hesitated and looked at Hermione, who still had to receive treatment and find out just
how much in trouble she was. “But—”
“Unless you want me to put you in detention on the day of Gryffindor vs Slytherin match,
you will leave.”
“Yes, sir.” Harry replied quickly, scrambling to his feet.
Hermione watched him go with longing. She took her time turning her head back to Severus.
He was glaring at her when she finally completed the ninety degree turn.
“You should have come to me.”
“I know.”
“But still, you didn’t do it.”
“What are you going to do with her?”
“That's between me and her now.” He spoke with a tone that expressed it was a closed matter.
He picked up another vial and offered his hand to take hers. Hermione placed her palm on his
and watched as he carefully held it under the tipping vial.
“Ouch” Hermione hissed after her father put only a drop of the potion on her bleeding hand.
It finally dawned on her then: She had taken to calling him father in her head. How long had
she been doing so? She didn’t remember. She felt her cheeks burning.
“Is this supposed to burn this much?” Hermione asked, trying to think of something else.
“Yes”
“Will it scar?” She asked instead, he gingerly turned her hand and looked at the damage.
“Just like your brother's.”
The change of topic wasn’t working, because it made her notice the softness in his touch.
Now she recognised as a father tending to his daughter, but it was something she always
associated with him when it came to her.
She remembered how he fussed over her after the Troll thing in the first year and again after
she came back from being petrified during her second year. And how just last year, he was
extremely annoyed about her participation in the second task.
Now she understood why Narcissa got so offended when Hermione asked if Severus even
cared for her.
Because he loved her dearly.
Hermione decided that even if she couldn’t say the words yet, he deserved to know that she
knew.
“I—” she started and failed miserably, “I want you to know that—” it didn’t matter that in her
head she had come to terms with everything, voicing it was still difficult. A deep breath and
out in a rush: “I know how much you love me.” She said. He was watching her now, it was
still unnerving to see how much emotion he showed in his eyes every time she mentioned
their family-ness. How vulnerable he became. “I know how much you care. I recognise now,
everything you did for me. I—”
“Thank you.” He said. His face didn’t change, but she felt the tiny squeeze on her hand.
“I can’t imagine how hard it must have been. To be a father without a daughter.”
It was a good tactic, because she could feel the change on him, the way his anger and rage
were slowly leaving his body, giving place to something bigger, warmer, more important.
“It was easier whenever I remembered why it was necessary. Watching you grow from an
arm's distance was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.” He told her and her breath
caught.
He was a spy for Dumbledore.
He was a spy for Voldemort.
She had no place between those things. She knew rationally that those things were much
more dangerous and much harder than having to hide their relationship for fifteen years, but
the way he said it, it was clear that he believed it. That for him, not being her father was
worse.
Again, the overwhelming feeling of you want this took over her. This time, Hermione would
take the jump for him. This time, she’d take the weight off his shoulders.
“You can stop that now.” She said softly, and didn’t hesitate when she continued, “You can
tell me to move on from the boy I like because he doesn’t deserve me or you can say that if
you catch me drinking fire whiskey at the Hog’s head you will ground me or something.”
Hermione took a deep breath and steadily finished, “I want you to be my father.”
“I proud of you.” It’s what he said in reply, “as a father, your father, this is what I wanted to
tell you the most. I’m so goddamn proud of you.” His voice cracked and Hermione felt
emotion clogging her throat.
“Thank you,”
“The other things—” he hesitated, “because I am your father, no one will deserve you in my
eyes, but—” he sighed, “I’ve been Draco’s age and I was just as smitten with an incredible
girl as he is now, boys his age don’t often have the smartest ideas. Give it time, I’d say.”
“How—”
“This cat and mouse thing you two have going? It’s not difficult to know.”
Hermione blushed.
“Hermione, you are the most important thing to me.” He told her, “Whatever happens to you,
I want to know, because I will protect you. I’ve been living this life for fifteen years now,
keeping you safe is what makes it worth it. Don’t take it from me.”
“I'm sorry.” She whispered.
“And besides, I’m very good at my job.” He told her with a small smile, so private that she
wondered who else had been privileged enough to see it. “She won’t ever see me coming.”
Chapter End Notes
Once more, thank you all for the lovely comments for the previous chapter! I appreciate
them all.
Let me know what you think!
The title of this chapter and the quote at the beginning belong to Sick of Losing
Soulmates by dodie
and now the storm is coming, but
Chapter Notes
Hi!! sorry for the long delay! I took part of an intensive winter course for the past three
weeks here in Lithuania and got really wrapped up. Thank you for the patience and for
the comments on the previous chapter!
Excerpts were taken from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. They don't belong
to me. All rights go to You-Know-Who.
Oh, I wrote something in the end notes, please take the time to read it!!
the whole school is rolling fake dice

you play stupid games,
you win stupid prices
it's you and me
there's nothing like this
Chapter Forty Nine
She didn’t notice at first, but there were so many small things happening that it couldn’t
simply be a coincidence. It started a few days after their last detention when Umbridge let out
a small squeal of surprise during dinner as if the bite she had taken was too hot. But it kept
happening throughout that dinner, and by the end of it, almost everyone had noticed and kept
stealing glances at her. It didn’t matter how much she blew on it, it seemed she was fated to
burn her mouth. Later, it was the sudden loss of footing that she seemed to have been going
through. Umbridge liked to walk around the classroom while they read from their boring
textbook, but when she began to trip at every other step, she kept herself to her desk,
resorting to glaring at them from a distance. Next, had been the weird spots on her clothes, it
was always some unidentified stain that appeared in the most visible places and no matter
what Umbridge tried to do, she couldn’t remove them, which led to hourly runs to her office
to change her clothes.
Those unseemly mishaps kept happening for the next couple of weeks, which made
Umbridge irritated and snappish, but she was so busy with the things happening around and
to her, as well as with her new High Inquisitor position - whatever that meant - that had her
inspecting other classes to the extreme annoyance of the other Professors, that she hadn’t
given a single detention to a single student. It was only after her inspection at Potions that
Hermione realised who was behind the misfortune that had fallen upon Umbridge.
Every time Umbridge had opened her mouth to ask Severus a question, she’d start hiccuping,
which led her to close her mouth yet again and glare at Severus. He offered water and asked
if she was okay, but the sudden concern coming from him was too telling. Especially because
he seemed too amused with the entire situation, twice ignoring Seamus' and Neville’s chaos
of a potion. Hermione smiled down at her bubbling cauldron. She wasn’t under the illusion
that this was the furthest he’d go, Hermione knew the bodily harm Umbridge had inflicted on
her was going to be met with the same - probably worse - coin, but these small, petty revenge
were comforting because it told her that he wouldn’t give Umbridge peace until he could
make her pay.
Another curious and slightly entertaining event was the Slytherin Quidditch tryout. Hermione
couldn’t care less about Quidditch, but with the ongoing feud between Slytherins, she knew it
would be best if she was present. Montague had been stripped of his captaining position
(maybe it was because of his awful grades last year, maybe it was because of his shitty
behaviour towards her. Montague had been right. It was nice having daddy as Head of
House), which was given to Draco, who looked slightly paler than usual at the sight of
Blaise, Theo and Pansy on the field. Vince and Greg were there as well, she knew the pair
would also be trying out for Beaters. Hermione winced with the idea.
There was no opening for Chaser, but there stood Pansy. Montague said something to her that
Hermione couldn’t hear, but the girl merely shrugged and pointed at the goals. Their
discussion seemed to extend and the other two Chasers soon joined in. Pansy won. Hermione
saw Montague stalk through the field towards the goal and Adrian Pucey give a friendly pat
on her shoulder. Montague could be an awful person, but he was desperate to get the
Quidditch cup. It was his last year and Slytherin had lost it in the last five years. Not only
was his last shot at it, but it was Adrian’s and Cassius’ as well.
They divided the team in two. Pansy, Adrien, Blaise and Theo on one side, and Draco,
Cassius, Vince and Greg on the other, with Montague as the Keeper. Hermione had read in
the Library that the last time Slytherin had had a girl play Quidditch was when Dorcas
Meadowes played Chaser from 1973 to 1978. Once it got clear that Pansy was actually better
than Cassius and Draco together, there was no doubt that Montague would be playing Keeper
for his last year.
The Beater position was a completely different story. Theo was amazing. Vince was actually
really good, even better than Blaise, but Greg didn’t stand a chance. Hermione knew because
Draco had told her the previous night, that he would either pick Blaise and Theo or Vince and
Greg, no matter who played better. Team play was important and the team would be divided
enough without the two Beaters trying to strike one another. Even with her limited
knowledge of Quidditch, she knew synchronicity was essential for the Beater position, and
with actual twins playing for Gryffindor, Slytherin couldn’t risk it.
...
Her birthday came and Hermione slipped from her room a quarter past midnight to meet with
Draco at the room in the tower. There were candles all around the room, not only on the floor
and on the coffee tables, but floating as well, just like the ones in the Great Hall. Draco was
sitting amidst pillows and blankets and to her, he never looked more beautiful. “Draco—”
Her voice broke.
He smiled, “I’ve managed the impossible,” he said with a smile and stretched his arm to her,
“I made Hermione Granger wordless.”
She took his hand and joined him on the middle of the rug, “this is lovely.” She said,
Hermione could feel tears pooling around her eyes. “A very lovely fire hazard.”
He chuckled and kissed her cheeks, the left and then the right one, “Not enough to keep
Hermione Granger from scolding me.”
“I'm sorry, this is beautiful.” She said grinning. It was truly beautiful, the yellowish tinge to
the room because of the candles, the delicious aroma of the flowers and—Cedar, spice. Clove
and may. Had he hidden Amortentia somewhere around them? Because Hermione was
certain she could smell him everywhere.
“Don’t be. I love being scolded by you.” He said with a smirk and Hermione rolled her eyes.
Truly, only the boy who had never gotten a ‘no' would say something like that. “And I know
you would prefer to have the others as well for your birthday, but—”
“No.” She shook her head, “This is perfect. I love it.” I love you.
Draco stroked her cheeks and she wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers tangling on
his hair as she leaned in to rest her lips on top of his. A clock stroke twelve somewhere
around the castle and he smiled at her, well and truly smiled, looking like something
devastatingly beautiful. “Happy birthday, Hermione.”
“Sixteen,” She murmured and pecked his lips. Their eyes met and the air changed between
them, becoming charged. The last thing she saw before she closed her eyes was the darkening
of Draco’s silver irises. Soon enough, all thoughts that didn't begin and end with Draco
Malfoy were out of her mind. Hermione didn't gasp or flinch when his hands skirted under
her shirt and gripped her waist, instead, she kissed him harder and slid her hands from his
hair to his chest and began unbuttoning his shirt. He smirked against her lips and she bit his
lips playfully in reproach. “No pestering house elf up here.” He spoke against her lips.
“Shut up.” She muttered without pulling away, he laughed, and she swallowed the sound,
getting all those buttons open very expertly. After all, they had always reached this step
before being interrupted. Draco helped her by shucking his shirt off, and throwing it behind
the sofa, she chuckled and with eager fingers, ran them through the expanse of his chest.
How sheltered one had to be to not have a single scar or blemish on their body? She thought
to herself. Against the shimmering light, his skin shone goldenly and his perfect chest was
smooth and hard like marble. Hermione explored even lower this time, running her fingers
through his pecs and abdomen, trying to find a crevice or corner in which he wasn’t perfect.
There wasn’t one. No freckle, no spot or cut. Hermione would chase down whoever dared to
change that.
“Hermione,” Draco called, his voice rough and she looked up to find his pupils blown.
Hermione wondered if Odysseus had jumped ship upon seeing Ithaca after all those years, if
his desperation to return to Penelope had been so great he couldn’t wait for the final
moments, because Hermione couldn’t find another explanation as to why the look in Draco’s
eyes made her shrug off her sweater and press her front against his and recapturing his lips in
a bruising kiss. It felt like every space between them was an affront to Hermione that she
needed to remedy as quickly as possible. Draco was apparently suffering from the same
ailment because he pressed her impossibly closer.
His lips left her mouth to start a trail down her cheek and jaw, towards her neck. Hermione
arched her back when his lips brushed her collarbone, she could feel his smirk on her skin the
moment he realised she was sensitive there. Draco’s fingers which were splayed on her back
stopped on the clasp of her bra, “Can I?” He asked her.
Hermione’s navy blue bra found its way alongside her sweater after her nod and eager, “Yes.”
The second round of birthday celebrations ended up being much more family-friendly, with
her friends giving gifts - expensive and preposterous ones -, Remus and Sirius sent gift cards
to Flourish and Blotts, a leather jacket that matched Sirius’ - which Pansy snatched so fast
that Hermione wondered if she would ever see it again - and an expanding shelf that could
hold all of her books inside her special purse. Severus gave her a present as well, it had a
small note that almost brought her to tears.
Hermione,
It’s a difficult task to gift the person who’s my biggest gift,
especially now that I can sign them.
I hope someday you can make use of it.
Your father,
It was a necklace and the pendant was a white lily, but instead of having the yellow part in
the middle, there was a small detailed family crest in light purple. It was very beautiful. Was
it the Snape family crest? Not likely, as Hermione knew Severus’ father had been a muggle.
But the gift that brought her to tears was the special edition of The Winter’s Tale she got from
her mum and dad, which had, right there on the cover, Hermione’s speech at the courtroom in
her dad’s handwriting.
To say “Not guilty.” Mine integrity,

Being counted falsehood, shall, as I express it,
Be so received. But thus: if powers divine
Behold our human actions, as they do,
I doubt not then but innocence shall make
False accusation blush and tyranny
Tremble at patience. You, my lord, best know,
Whom least will seem to do so, my past life
Hath been as continent, as chaste, as true,
As I am now unhappy
Forgive us, for we have unjustly accused you in the courtroom of your own bedroom.
We love you in every life you may have.
“Hey, you okay?” Pansy asked, tugging Hermione close to her. Hermione nodded and handed
her the letter. Pansy read it quickly, “I don’t speak Fancy Muggle, but this is a nice thing
right? They forgive you?”
Hermione nodded amidst tears, “yes, it’s a nice thing.” She said and felt Pansy’s arms around
her.
She had her mum and dad’s present in one hand, her father’s in the other and Remus and
Sirius’ scattered around her. Pansy was right, it was a nice thing.
As the days grew shorter and darker, and the Defence classes became even more unbearable,
Hermione’s idea of creating a practical study group was gaining strength. More and more
students were getting frustrated, not only their year, who had O.W.L.S to worry about but the
older ones as well. Finally, after what seemed ages of cajoling and begging, Harry agreed to
co-lead them. After all, no one could argue that he had the most practical experience among
the student body. She told her friends, some people from the other houses whom she’d
studied together in the past and even Adrian and his seventh-year friend to meet with her at
the Hog’s Head around one.
Sirius would stop by for a visit and they would meet him at the same place she and Harry
talked about him while he was curled as a dog around their feet.
“Hey kiddos,” He greeted Harry with a hug and hesitated long enough for Hermione to nod
her assent before hugging her as well. If he squeezed her a bit too much, well she would
never tell. “How have you been?”
“Alright.” Harry replied. They didn’t know whether Severus had told him and Remus about
the whole thing with Umbridge or not and neither of them was willing to find out.
“What are the plans for today?” He asked.
“We are trying to make a study group. For Defence. We are meeting a couple of friends to ask
if they want to join us.” She told him. Sirius chuckled and climbed on the fence, they did the
same, one sitting on each side of him.
“Her classes are that bad, huh?”
“The worse.” Harry answered.
“Is she training you all to kill half-breeds?”
“No,” Hermione replied with a frown. “What do you mean? Do you know her?”
“Not personally, but I know she’s a nasty piece of work, though — you should hear Moony
talk about her.” He said and Hermione counted a point for the use of the pet name. Maybe
they were fine again if the joined presents had been an indicator. But again, Remus hadn’t
come along for today’s meeting.
“Does Remus know her?” Harry asked.
“No,” Sirius replied with a shake of his head, “but she drafted a bit of anti-werewolf
legislation two years ago that makes it almost impossible for him to get a job.”
Hermione’s hands curled into fists. And it was all because her father had seen fit to tell
everyone what Remus was. “What’s she got against werewolves?” Hermione asked angrily.
“Scared of them, I expect,” Sirius replied and he smiled at her indignation. He grabbed her
hand closest to him and forced her to uncurl her fingers. “Apparently she loathes part-
humans; she campaigned to have merpeople rounded up and tagged last year too. Imagine
wasting your time and energy persecuting merpeople when there are little toerags like
Kreacher on the loose—” Harry snorted but Hermione glared at him.
“Honestly!” She said reproachfully.
“Oh, Hermione you didn’t have the pleasure of his company.” Sirius said, clearly sarcastic.
“He is deeply lacking the manners you are used to from the Malfoy’s elves.”
“Even so!”
“Alright, I will dump him with you and you tell me what you think.” He patted her wrist,
“But tell me more about her classes. Why are they the worst? Besides the lovely woman you
have for a teacher.”
Harry and Hermione looked at one another. Severus hadn’t told him. There was no way he’d
be joking with them if he knew.
Merlin, he had no idea how lovely she was.
“She’s not letting us use magic at all!” Harry said, “All we do is read the stupid textbook.”
“Ah, well, that figures,” Sirius replied. “Our information from inside the Ministry is that
Fudge doesn’t want you trained in combat.”
“Trained in combat?” Harry repeated incredulously. “What does he think we’re doing here,
forming some sort of wizard army?”
Well, Hermione thought. That was partially entailed in her idea for a Study Group.
“That’s exactly what he thinks you’re doing,” Sirius replied, “or rather, that’s exactly what
he’s afraid Dumbledore’s doing — forming his private army, with which he will be able to
take on the Ministry of Magic.”
“So we’re being prevented from learning Defense Against the Dark Arts because Fudge is
scared we’ll use spells against the Ministry?” Hermione asked, making sure she had
understood it correctly.
“Yep,” Sirius answered. “Fudge thinks Dumbledore will stop at nothing to seize power. He’s
getting more paranoid about Dumbledore by the day. It’s a matter of time before he has
Dumbledore arrested on some trumped-up charge.” He didn’t sound too bothered by that.
Sometimes, especially since she had been away from him, Hermione forgot that she wasn’t
the only one that disliked Dumbledore. That the one thing she and Sirius agreed the most was
that Dumbledore was a cunning old man who used and discarded them as he needed.
“Anyway,” Sirius said, squeezing her wrist again and taking a deep breath. “Tell me more
about your scar, you did well to keep your letter brief,”
“It goes back to Umbridge. It hurt again when she touched me after my last detention with
her."
Sirius hummed, “Well, I know it can’t be fun when it hurts,” he began, “but we don’t think
it’s anything to really worry about. It kept aching all last year, didn’t it?”
“Yeah, and Dumbledore said it happened whenever Voldemort was feeling a powerful
emotion,” Sirius rolled his eyes at that, but there was a tenseness to his shoulders now that
wasn’t there before. “So maybe he was just, I dunno, really angry or something the night I
had that detention.”
“It could have been a timely coincidence, yes. And now he’s back it’s bound to hurt more
often,” Sirius said.
“So you don’t think it had anything to do with Umbridge touching me when I was in
detention with her?”
“I doubt it,” said Sirius. “I know her by reputation and I’m sure she’s no Death Eater—”
Hermione opened her mouth to argue, to tell what Umbridge had said that implied she was
working for more than just Fudge. But then she remembered it was before Hermione received
the Imperio Curse and it would be best to steer away from that topic.
“She’s foul enough to be one,” Harry retorted.
“Yes, but the world isn’t split into good people and Death Eaters,” Sirius with a wry smile
and Hermione turned to look at him with she was certain a surprised expression. He
chuckled, “Don’t look at me like that, kiddo. I’ve been doing my homework.” Sirius told her.
“But we are not certain of much nowadays. Constant vigilance, remember? Keep your head
down. Especially you, Hermione. I heard there’s a big one about you coming on the Prophet
in a few days.”
“What?” She asked, “Why?”
“It can only be that bitch Skeeter again.” Harry murmured.
“No,” Hermione shook her head. “It's not her. She wouldn’t dare.” That Hermione was
certain.
“I don’t know who’s writing, but from the information the Order has, we know it's something
to do with your relationship with Snape.” Sirius told her, “Someone sold information from
inside the castle.”
Hermione groaned. “Of course they did.”
“You don’t look so worried,” Harry pointed out.
“Well, I know it’s not Skeeter,” Hermione began, “and worried? Skeeter labelled me a whore
in multiples publications last year, you will have to excuse me if I can’t muster any worries
about whatever is being written about me that most certainly someone in my house has
babbled away for a stray coin.”
Sirius laughed, openly, fully. “Oh love, you are something else.” She saw a stretch of sadness
pass through him, his smile turning a bit bitter. “You remind me of him a bit, your acerbic
temper.”
“Who?” She asked, cocking her head to the side.
“Don’t mind that now.” He said quickly, jumping from the fence and straightening his
clothes, “I should better be going. You guys have your meeting, have fun!”
“Already?” Harry asked, clearly confused by the sudden change in Sirius.
“Yes, it’s no good if anyone sees us. Times like these will only be fuel to the fire. I better go,
lest someone writes that I’m influencing you to do something sordid since I’m such a bad
influence.”
The pair watched, slightly dumbfounded, as Sirius kissed each of them on the head and
Apparated away.
Harry turned to her, “He was talking about Regulus.” He said.
“What?”
“That was exactly how he behaved the times I asked him about his brother when I was at
Grimmauld. He couldn’t run away there, but here he could.”
Hermione frowned at the space where Sirius had just left them. Regulus had been dead for
longer than James. Why did the memory of his brother make him run and hide?
“So, who did you say is supposed to be meeting us?” Harry asked, nudging her and beginning
the walk back to the village.
“Just a couple of people,” Hermione replied her mind still a bit distant. They passed by a very
old shop, filled to every corner with portraits of wizards and witches. “Harry,” she called. On
one of the windows, there was a big poster with the saying: YOU WILL REGRET IT WHEN
YOU DIE. COMMISSION YOUR PORTRAIT TODAY. “Are there any portraits at
Grimmauld Place?”
“What?” He turned and then followed her gaze. He snorted. “Yes. Plenty. All of them are
covered though, they keep screaming obscenities at us. Sirius’ mum is the worse. Twice
every day they had to cast something or another at her painting to keep her shut.”
What if Regulus had one? Hermione wondered. She hadn’t read much about them so far, but
she knew they stored memories and knowledge. What if there was a sitting painting of
Regulus Black hidden under a cover at Grimmauld Place? She knew Harry had taken to carry
around Regulus’ journals with him wherever he went. But even more, what if James and Lily
had portraits? Hermione remembered the whole Mirror of Erised thing from their first year,
what if Harry could talk to them? Hear whatever memory they had, something that wasn’t a
creation of his deepest desires?
Hermione checked her watch, she didn’t have time now, but she would certainly investigate
the topic later. “I told them to be here about now and I’m sure they all know where it is— oh
look, the Weasleys are there already.”
They entered the dingy pub and joined the four Weasley siblings. They all watched her and
offered polite hellos. They had barely sat down when the door of the pub opened again. A
thick band of dusty sunlight split the room in two for a moment and then vanished, blocked
by the incoming rush of a crowd of people. First came Neville with Dean and Lavender, who
were closely followed by Parvati and Padma Patil, Cho and one of her usually giggling
girlfriends, then Draco’s cousin Luna; then Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, and Angelina Johnson,
Colin and Dennis Creevey, Ernie Macmillan, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Zacharias Smith,
Hannah Abbott, and a Hufflepuff girl with a long plait down her back whose name Hermione
couldn’t remember.
Harry turned at her with wide eyes, “A couple of people?”
Hermione smiled thinly and couldn’t even reply, because the door had opened again to allow
the group of Ravenclaws and Hermione’s Slytherin friends. The Ravenclaw boys were
Anthony Goldstein, Michael Corner, and Terry Boot; the twins’ friend was with them as well,
bringing a large paper bag crammed with Zonko’s merchandise. Hermione was surprised to
see that both Adrian and Stephen Cornfoot had come as well.
“A couple of people?” Harry repeated, a bit more forcefully.
“Yes, well, the idea seemed quite popular,” Hermione said happily. “Ron, do you want to pull
up some more chairs?”
“What have you been telling people?” Harry asked in a low voice. “What are they
expecting?”
“I’ve told you, they just want to hear what you’ve got to say,” Hermione said soothingly and
waved to get Theo and Pansy next to her. She was surrounded by Gryffindors and Harry
didn’t have the friendliest of expressions just then. “You don’t have to do anything yet, I’ll
speak to them first.” She added hastily.
In twos and threes the new arrivals settled around them, some looking rather excited, others
curious. When everybody had pulled up a chair, the chatter died out. Every eye was upon
Harry. Blaise nudged her. “Er,” Hermione began, her voice slightly higher than usual out of
nerves. “Well — er — hi.”
Her friends went as far as echoing “Hi, Hermione,” in their assembly voice. The group
focused its attention on her instead, though eyes continued to dart back regularly to Harry.
“Well— erm— well, you know why you’re here. Well, Harry here had the idea — I mean—”
Harry had thrown her a sharp look, “I had the idea—” Blaise or Theo sniggered, probably
both, “—that it might be good if people who wanted to study Defence Against the Dark Arts
— and I mean, really study it, you know, not the rubbish that Umbridge is doing with us—”
Her voice became suddenly much stronger and more confident, “because nobody could call
that Defence Against the Dark Arts—”
“Hear, hear,” said Anthony Goldstein, and Hermione was heartened by it.
“—Well, I thought it would be good if we, well, took matters into our own hands.” She
paused, looked sideways at Harry, and went on, “And by that I mean learning how to defend
ourselves properly, not just theory but the real spells —”
“You want to pass your Defence Against the Dark Arts O.W.L. too though, I bet?” said
Michael Corner.
“Of course I do,” said Hermione at once. What kind of question was that? “But I want more
than that, I want to be properly trained in Defense because . . . because . . .” She took a great
breath and finished, “Because of Lord Voldemort’s back.”
The reaction was immediate and predictable. Cho’s friend shrieked and slopped butterbeer
down herself, Terry Boot gave a kind of involuntary twitch, Padma Patil shuddered, and
Neville gave an odd yelp that he managed to turn into a cough. All of them, however, looked
fixedly, even eagerly, at Harry. “Well . . . that’s the plan anyway,” said Hermione. “If you
want to join us, we need to decide how we’re going to —”
“Where’s the proof You-Know-Who’s back?” said the blond Hufflepuff player in a rather
aggressive voice.
“Well, Dumbledore believes it —” Hermione began.
“You mean, Dumbledore believes him,” said the blond boy, nodding at Harry.
“Who are you?” said Ron rather rudely.
“Zacharias Smith,” said the boy, “and I think we’ve got the right to know exactly what makes
him say You-Know-Who’s back.”
“Look,” said Hermione, intervening swiftly, “that’s really not what this meeting was
supposed to be about —”
“It’s okay, Hermione,” said Harry, in a level voice. Maybe that was why there were so many
people there, not because they wanted to learn, but because they wanted to hear what Harry
had to say about last June. It had just dawned upon her why there were so many people there.
For Merlin's sake, she should have seen it. No one liked gossip like the Hogwarts students.
Instead, Hermione glared at them. “What makes me say You-Know-Who’s back?” Harry
asked, looking Zacharias straight in the face. “I saw him. But Dumbledore told the whole
school what happened last year, and if you didn’t believe him, you don’t believe me, and I’m
not wasting an afternoon trying to convince anyone.”
“Hot," Pansy murmured and Hermione whirled around so fast she could catch the raised
eyebrow and the satisfied smirk on her face. Oh god.
The whole group seemed to have held its breath for a second after Harry spoke. Blaise,
inappropriately, cheered at that, Hermione hid her face behind her hands.
Zacharias said dismissively, “All Dumbledore told us last year was that Cedric Diggory got
killed by You-Know-Who and that you brought Diggory’s body back to Hogwarts. He didn’t
give us details, he didn’t tell us exactly how Diggory got murdered, I think we’d all like to
know—”
“If you’ve come to hear exactly what it looks like when Voldemort murders someone I can’t
help you,” Harry said. His temper, always so close to the surface these days, was rising again,
she just knew it. But he kept his eyes steady on Zacharias'. “I don’t want to talk about Cedric
Diggory, all right? So if that’s what you’re here for, you might as well clear out.” He cast an
angry look in Hermione’s direction.
Pansy, very helpful as always, rolled her eyes and said to Harry, “Oh, man up.” She turned
then to the crowd, glaring at Zacharias as if he was her new personal enemy, “You are
forgetting a very important thing. Unless you are accusing Potter of murder, Cedric Diggory
was murdered by You-Know-Who. You don’t believe Potter? Fine. Don’t believe
Dumbledore? Even finer. But why don’t you ask my friend Theo here, what his father was
doing that evening?”
“Oi, fuck off Pansy.” Theo groaned, but the effect was immediate, every pair of eyes was
glued on Theo. They knew, of course, the rumours were as old as Theo’s father. “He was
there.” Theo said at last, “So yeah, Smith, Voldemort is back and unless you want to get
killed before you can finish your measly Expelliarmus you will hear what Harry has to say.”
Zacharias didn’t want that. So he remained seated. No one got up. She felt another nudge
from Blaise and resumed her impromptu speech. “So, like I was saying, if you want to learn
some defence, then we need to work out how we’re going to do it, how often we’re going to
meet, and where we’re going to —”
“Is it true,” the girl with the long plait down her back interrupted Hermione, looking at Harry,
“that you can produce a Patronus?”
There was a murmur of interest around the group at this. “Yeah,” said Harry slightly
defensively.
“A corporeal Patronus?”
“Er— you don’t know Madam Bones, do you?” He asked. The girl smiled.
“She’s my auntie,” she said. “I’m Susan Bones. She told me about your hearing. So — is it
really true? You make a stag Patronus?”
“Yes,” and it was Theo who answered. “I've seen it.”
Fred grinned, and leaned across the table, “want to see mine as well, huh?” He asked in a low
voice.
Blaise leaned as well, “Fuck off, will you?”
Harry looked horrified, Pansy and Ginny were delighted, Ron slightly perturbed by his
brother.
Harry shook his head and said loudly. “Well, we learned together—”
“Blimey, Harry!” said Lee, looking deeply impressed. “I never knew that!”
“Mum told Ron not to spread it around,” said Fred, grinning at Harry. “She said you got
enough attention “as it was.”
“She’s not wrong,” mumbled Harry and a couple of people laughed. The veiled witch sitting
alone shifted very slightly in her seat.
“And did you kill a basilisk with that sword in Dumbledore’s office?” demanded Terry Boot.
“That’s what one of the portraits on the wall told me when I was in there last year . . .”
“Er — yeah, I did, yeah,” said Harry.
Justin Finch-Fletchley whistled, the Creevey brothers exchanged awestruck looks, and
Lavender Brown said “wow” softly. Hermione saw her brother was becoming embarrassed.
He never saw any of his feats as something to be proud of, and this newfound attention was
clearly overwhelming.
“And in our first year,” said Neville to the group at large, “he saved that Sorcerous Stone —”
“Sorcerer’s,” Hermione supplied.
“Yes, that, from You-Know-Who,” finished Neville. Hannah Abbott’s eyes were as round as
Galleons.
“And that’s not to mention,” said Cho - which warranted an eye roll from Pansy and an
almost concussion from Harry with how fast he turned to her, “all the tasks he had to get
through in the Triwizard Tournament last year — getting past dragons and merpeople and
acromantulas and things…”
“He performed below average in all of them.” Pansy muttered, but no one paid her mind.
There was a murmur of impressed agreement around the table. The attention seemed alright
now, as Hermione noticed how he seemed very focused on not looking too pleased with
himself.
“Look,” he said and everyone fell silent at once, “I—I don’t want to sound like I’m trying to
be modest or anything, but, I had a lot of help with all that stuff—”
“The GillyWeed was us.” Blaise said, “And Longbottom over there,” Neville grew red where
he was.
“Not with the dragon, you didn’t,” said Terry Boot at once. He even glared a Blaise. Well,
that had clearly not ended well. “That was a seriously cool bit of flying . . .”
“Yeah, well—”
“And nobody helped you get rid of those dementors this summer,” said Susan Bones.
“No,” said Harry, “no, okay, I know I did bits of it without help, but the point I’m trying to
make is—”
“Are you trying to weasel out of showing us any of this stuff?” said Zacharias Smith.
“Here’s an idea,” said Ron loudly, before Harry could speak, “why don’t you shut your
mouth?”
Perhaps the word 'weasel' had affected Ron particularly strongly; in any case, Hermione had
never seen him being so useful. Ron was now looking at Zacharias as though he would like
nothing better than to thump him. He could join Pansy, then. Zacharias flushed. “Well, we’ve
all turned up to learn from him, and now he’s telling us he can’t really do any of it,” he said.
“That’s not what he said,” Fred snarled.
“Would you like us to clean out your ears for you?” George inquired, pulling a long and
lethal-looking metal instrument from inside one of the Zonko’s bags.
“Or any part of your body, really, we’re not fussy where we stick this,” Fred said with a
shrug.
“Now, don’t tell me Gryffindors are fun.” Pansy said with a grin.
“Yes, well,” Hermione said hastily, “moving on! The point is, are we agreed we want to take
lessons from Harry?”
There was a murmur of general agreement. Zacharias folded his arms and said nothing,
though perhaps this was because he was too busy keeping an eye on the instrument in
George’s hand.
“Right,” she said, relieved that something had at last been settled. One less thing in her
unending list of things. “Well, then, the next question is how often we do it. I really don’t
think there’s any point in meeting less than once a week—”
“Hang on,” said Angelina, “we need to make sure this doesn’t clash with our Quidditch
practice.”
“No,” said Cho, “nor with ours.”
“Nor ours,” added Zacharias Smith.

“I’m sure we can find a night that suits everyone,” said Hermione, slightly impatiently, “but
you know, this is rather important, we’re talking about learning to defend ourselves against
Voldemort’s Death Eaters —”
“Well said!” Ernie Macmillan barked and even shot her a smile. “Personally I think this is
really important, possibly more important than anything else we’ll do this year, even with our
O.W.L.s coming up!” He looked around impressively, as though waiting for people to agree
with him. He had the pompous air down to a knot, but he lacked presence. He continued, “I,
personally, am at a loss to see why the Ministry has foisted such a useless teacher upon us at
this critical period. Obviously, they are in denial about the return of You-Know-Who, but to
give us a teacher who is trying to actively prevent us from using defensive spells —”
“We think the reason Umbridge doesn’t want us trained in Defence Against the Dark Arts,”
Hermione offered, “is that she’s got some mad idea that Dumbledore could use the students
in the school as a kind of private army. She thinks he’d mobilize us against the Ministry.”
Nearly everybody looked stunned at this news; everybody except Luna Lovegood, who piped
up, “Well, that makes sense. After all, Cornelius Fudge has got his private army.”
“What?” said Harry, completely thrown by this unexpected piece of information.
“Yes, he’s got an army of heliopaths,” said Luna solemnly.
“No, he hasn’t,” Hermione snapped
“Yes, he has,” Luna retorted.
“What are heliopaths?” Neville asked looking blank.
“They’re spirits of fire,” Luna explained, her protuberant eyes widening so that she looked
madder than ever. “Great tall flaming creatures that gallop across the ground burning
everything in front of —”
“They don’t exist, Neville,” Hermione said tartly.
“Oh yes they do!” Luna replied angrily.
“I’m sorry, but where’s the proof of that?” Hermione snapped
“There are plenty of eyewitness accounts, just because you’re so narrow-minded you need to
have everything shoved under your nose before you—”
“Oof.” Blaise whistled.
“Hem, hem,” said Ginny in such a good imitation of Professor Umbridge that several people
looked around in alarm and then laughed. “Weren’t we trying to decide how often we’re
going to meet and get Defence lessons?”
“Yes,” said Hermione at once, “yes, we were, you’re right . . .”

“And that’s another family member on her naughty list.” Blaise murmured. Hermione kicked
his shin.
“Well, once a week sounds cool,” said Lee Jordan.
“As long as —” began Angelina.
“Yes, yes, we know about the Quidditch,” Hermione said firmly. Honestly. “Well, the other
thing to decide is where we’re going to meet.”
“Library?” Katie Bell suggested after a few moments.
“I can’t see Madam Pince being too chuffed with us doing jinxes in the library,” Harry said
with a chuckle.
“Maybe an unused classroom?” Dean offered.
“Yeah,” said Ron, “McGonagall might let us have hers, she did when Harry was practising
for the Triwizard.”
Hermione was certain that McGonagall would not be so accommodating this time. For all
they had said about study and homework groups being allowed, she knew they were toeing a
bit further down.
“Or…” One of the Ravenclaws began, “Hermione can ask her father for an empty Potions
classroom. Merlin knows he has plenty.”
They turned their attention to her. Oh, how they loved that piece of information.
“My father would rather hug Neville than lend us one of his classrooms.” She replied and
saw a collective shiver run through the group. She turned to Theo for a second and caught his
small smile. She cocked her head to the side before refocusing on the group. “Right, well,
we’ll try to find somewhere,” she said. “We’ll send a message round to everybody when
we’ve got a time and a place for the first meeting.”
She rummaged in her bag and produced parchment and a quill and hesitated for a moment,
what they were doing could potentially turn out to be against the rules. They needed some
sort of proof that they would be safe. “Blaise, distraction” Hermione called just for his ears.
Blaise smiled brightly. “And Corner, who invited you anyway?” He asked. “Last I saw you
didn’t know how to hold your wand."
She shook her head and used the angry voices of Michael Corner and his friends as cover.
She whispered the spell that would make the parchment and quill contract-bound. And added
a jinx just in case.
Hermione coughed. Blaise’s idea of distraction was a bit too much. The boys were all avidly
defending their wand skills. Pansy and Ginny were very entertained, even exchanging
comments. “Okay, that’s enough!” She called, her voice louder than usual. “Blaise, knock it
off!”
“Whatever you say, my lady.”
"Clearly you are all overexcited now—Don’t.” She added to Blaise, “So before we all go, I
think everybody should write their name down, just so we know who was here. But I also
think,” she took a deep breath, “that we all ought to agree not to shout about what we’re
doing. So if you sign, you’re agreeing not to tell Umbridge — or anybody else — what we’re
up to.” Nicely done, she thought. They knew the terms, just not so clearly. Fred reached out
for the parchment and cheerfully put down his signature, but she noticed at once that several
people looked less than happy at the prospect of putting their names on the list.
“Er . . .” Zacharias began slowly, not taking the parchment that George was trying to pass
him. Hermione rolled her eyes, “Well... I’m sure Ernie will tell me when the meeting is.”
But Ernie was looking rather hesitant about signing too. Hermione raised her eyebrows at
him. “I — well, I'm a prefect,” Ernie burst out. “And if this list was found.. well, I mean to
say—you said yourself if Umbridge finds out—“
“You just said this group was the most important thing you’d do this year,” Harry reminded
him.
“I — yes,” said Ernie, “yes, I do believe that, it’s just—”
“Ernie, do you really think I’d leave that list lying around?” Hermione asked testily.
“No. No, of course not,” he replied, looking slightly less anxious. “I — yes, of course, I’ll
sign.”
Nobody raised objections after Ernie, though Cho’s friend got a rather reproachful look from
Cho before adding her name. When the last person — Zacharias, of course — had signed,
Hermione took the parchment back and slipped it carefully into her bag.
She felt the odd bonding feeling of the spell then. Theo looked at her with an eyebrow raised.
She avoided his look. He would know.
Soon, people began to leave, Hermione kept her hand carefully on top of her purse, keeping
the parchment safe until there were just them.
“Thirty-eight people.” She said, after taking out and counting down the names.
“Well Dumbledore,” Blaise said, “there you have your House Union.”
“Are we talking about your little show?” Daphne, who had been quiet until then, spoke.
“Hermione needed me for something.” Blaise shrugged, “What was it, anyway?”
Theo smirked, “Yeah, Hermione, what was it?”
“Just a little thing to make sure that if anyone tells, I can find them.”
Pansy grinned widely, “A contract.”

“That's why I felt weird just then?” Harry asked.
Hermione shrugged. “Do you think anyone noticed?”
“If they never had to sign a contract, then I doubt it.”
“What will happen to them?” Ron asked.
“Well, put it this way,” Hermione began, “it’ll make Eloise Midgen’s acne look like a couple
of cute freckles.”
“You terrify me sometimes, you know that, don’t you?” Blaise asked her, but his eyes were
shining brightly in amusement,
“You are lucky I love you.” She replied.
On Monday morning, they found Umbridge’s response. Affixed to the Slytherin Notice
Board - larger than everything else there - was a new sign printed in large black letters, with a
highly official-looking seal at the bottom beside a neat and curly signature.
BY ORDER OF
THE HIGH INQUISITOR
All Student Organizations, Societies, Teams, Groups, and Clubs are henceforth disbanded. An Organization, Society,
Team, Group, or Club is hereby defined as a regular meeting of three or more students. Permission to re-form may
be sought from the High Inquisitor (Professor Umbridge). No Student Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club
may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor. Any student found to have formed, or to belong
to, an Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be
expelled. The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-four.
Daphne huffed, “I’m pretty sure she’s not talking about T.C.W.”
“What is that?” Hermione asked.
“Traditional Courting Witch.” Daphne explained, “it teaches us how to properly behave
towards our betrothed.”
“Please tell me you are joking.” Hermione begged.
“I wish,” Daphne sighed, “Entry is only by invite, of course, they teach you all these
medieval expectations of women. I attended a few meetings during the first year, they are
terrible.”
“Well,” Pansy said, “if someone snitched, we are soon going to find out.”
“No one snitched.” Hermione said. “There’s nothing on the list. I bet she had someone on us
on Saturday and took her guess with this. Well, we just have to be even more careful then.”
Chapter End Notes
The title and the quote at the beginning belong to Miss Americana & The Heartbreak
Prince by Taylor Swift
Recently, I've received a few comments asking about whether this work will have smut
or not. While I don't personally mind writing smut and have done so before, I don't feel
comfortable writing it for this particularly fic as I believe it's already too big and ploty
without adding smut. It's rated M for the topics approached so far, but there won't be
anything further sex-related than what you read in this chapter.
BUT I am, however, willing to turn this into a series and add chapters rated E that can be
read as standalone (with a bit of imagination). That's partially because I have since July
10 pages of something written in Pansy's POV set on their fifth year (and that's on not
writing chronologically) that I want to post but not in the main work because it doesn't
add to the plot in anyway whatsoever.
I'd really appreciate your thoughts on the matter!!

but when does a comet become a meteor
Chapter Notes
I know, I took too long with this one BUT in my defence, this is an over 11k word
chapter, so that's that.
Honestly, I was actually just trying to get ahead with the story so I could stop updating
the last thing I had finished. Now I have two chapters ready after this one so I can
finally write without the heavy pressure of updates.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy it, this one is plot-heavy and a few things that have been
touched upon for a while now are finally discussed.
As always, there are excerpts from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, they don't
belong to me as well as the characters.
when does a ripple become a tidal wave?

when does the reason become the blame?
when does a man become a monster?
Chapter Fifty
The clear attack on Hedwig had set things into motion, or maybe had been the holdback on
Quidditch for the Gryffindors, but whatever it was, had Harry pestering her to find a place for
them to start practising. She was certain he just wanted to blast something without any
problems.
So she set off to her father’s office. The two people who knew the castle better than anyone
else were a Floo call away if only Severus let her use it, of course. Hermione knocked,
wanting to start things properly and waited for his response to open his door.
“Hermione,” he greeted and she saw him quickly schooling his surprise. It was the first time
she saw him outside his classes after her birthday. She had yet to thank him for his gift and to
tell him that she was wearing it every day under her uniform.
“Hi,” She said and walked up to where he was grading papers when he waved her in.
“Is there something on the matter?” He asked her.
“No—Well, kind of.” She said and shifted from one foot to the other. “I wanted to ask
something.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“Well… Could I use your Floo to talk to Remus?”
“Hermione,” He sighed, “A professor is not allowed to let students use the Floo, unless in
cases of emergency.”
“It is an emergency.”
He narrowed his eyes at her, “I'm certain of it.” He replied, not budging. "I am in a delicate
position enough without allowing my students to have house calls, I’m afraid you will have
to go to the Owlery for this. It has yet to fail a student.” Hermione kept the urge to groan in
annoyance.
She had forgotten how unhelpful he could be when he wanted. They had gone through the
whole ‘not forthcoming’ ordeal from last year.
“Hedwig was attacked, we think Umbridge has been trying to read what we’ve been writing
them and—”
“A good opportunity to begin practising writing in code.” He told her and before she could
help it, blurted:
“But it’s urgent!” She replied, unfortunately, her annoyance had slipped through.
“So you better start running there.”
Hermione gasped. “Dad!” She said in annoyance and once the words hit she froze. Hermione
was certain the panic and surprise in his expression matched hers. “I—I mean, it’s—”
Without a word, he made the Floo powder hover in the air and with a flick of his wand, lit up
the fireplace. And in her haste to disappear she kneeled and called Remus’ place so
desperately that when it was time to lean in on the fires she all but toppled inside, travelling
through fireplaces and finally careening to Remus’ living room.
Sirius jumped. There was a characteristically feminine yelp and where Sirius stood Padfoot
was barking. Remus had reacted a bit better - or worse - for he had his wand pointed at her
and only when he realised it was her he moved to help her up. “What in the—” he began,
only to be interrupted by the flames again.
This time was only the head and she felt mortified when she saw that Severus had come to
check up on her. “I see you’ve arrived at the destination in one piece.” He didn’t wait for a
reply and quickly disappeared into the flames.
“Sorry about that,” she said sheepishly to Remus and Sirius.
Sirius turned back and pretended to adjust his hair. Remus turned on him. “You turned into a
dog?” He asked and Hermione saw the red creep on Sirius’ cheeks. “And you want to join the
Aurors in the Dep—” he stopped mid-sentence with a glance at Hermione. “Your first instinct
was to turn into a dog?”
Sirius scowled, “Of course not! It’s just I wasn’t expecting it and it just came up—”
Hermione couldn’t help herself, she snorted and it was enough to set all of them off.
“Merlin,” Remus said, shaking his head and Hermione looked at him, really looked. He
looked better than he did during summer but still wasn’t as good as he had looked during
easter break. There was a fondness in his tone, and Remus looked at Sirius warmly. But there
was also a basket with blankets and a pillow next to the sofa, which meant someone - most
likely Sirius - was sleeping on the sofa. At least sometimes. “To what do we owe this visit?”
He asked her.
Hermione looked at the pair, Remus’ hair was slightly dishevelled and Sirius was trying to be
very inconspicuous while he buttoned his shirt. Well, interesting. “I didn’t interrupt anything,
did I?”
They looked at one another and both said at the same time, “Of course not.”
“No, no. No interruptions.”
Hermione tried to hide her smirk, but she knew her mouth was twitching. “Okay,” she said. “I
wasn’t actually supposed to come here but—“
Sirius snorted, “That was obvious, love.”
Remus rolled his eyes, “what is it?”
Hermione took a deep breath before beginning, “The Marauders’ Map. I’m certain it required
quite a knowledge about the castle to make it, right?” She asked they both noted, one looking
prouder than the other. “So… Do you happen to know where a group of students could get
together for some extracurricular classes?”
Sirius smirked, “this doesn’t have anything to do with the secret Defence group, now does
it?”
Hermione’s eyes widened, “how do you know?”
"The Order has someone following Harry around, he overheard you. You need to be more
careful when conspiring like this—”
“What Sirius means to say is, you shouldn’t be doing stuff like that.”
“Well, yeah, that too.”
“Was it the twitchy witch under the veil?” Hermione asked. They both nodded.
“Since the responsible talk is out of the way now,” Remus began and Hermione didn’t
mention that it wasn’t much of a conversation. “I don’t think any of the unused classrooms
are good enough. How big is the group, anyway?”
“Thirty-eight in total.”
“Hermione!”
“Let's not go back to the responsible talk now,” Sirius said hastily, “How about the Shrieking
Shack?”
“I doubt it will fit all of us, and there’s no way we can come and go through the Whooping
Willow without having our asses whooped.”
“There's a secret passageway there was pretty roomy. It was behind that big mirror on the
fourth floor.” Remus said.
“I think that’s the one which is caved in, but I can check.”
Sirius scratched the underside of his jaw, one of his mannerisms when he was thinking about
something that could be risky. “What if you come here?” He said, and Remus whirled
around. “We are in the middle of nowhere, you could practice all you want and no one would
see anything. And we would be here to supervise, not both of us all the time, but—”
“Severus would never give passage to us.” She said. “I—Well, I almost didn’t get just now,
he—it’s not important, but he won’t allow it.” There was no way she’d tell Sirius and Remus
that she had called Severus dad and as result, both of them freaked out so much it ended with
Hermione flying through the Floo.
“Not to mention it will be thirty-eight underage students out of the castle. If something were
to happen the Ministry would close the school so fast and they would give you your cell back
but this time I’d be accompanying you.” Remus pointed out. Sirius shuddered.
“Okay,” He said then, “we will think of something and let you know.”
“Now that you mention—There’s one place that I think it’s big enough, but something has to
be done about the piano there.” Remus said, “Professor Merrythought’s office, remember?
It’s in disuse because they think is haunted.”
“Haunted?” Hermione asked.
“Yeah, because of the curse on the Defence Against the Dark Arts position.”
“What?”
“Honestly? I think it’s bullshit.” Remus said, "but I did only last one year and every teacher
before and after me as well, so…”
“Yeah, I think it’s an option. It’s on the sixth floor. And it’s not really haunted, we went there
loads of times.” Sirius said, “but you will need a very good silencing spell and a way to get
all the stuff out of there.”
Hermione nodded, she would first check the office to see if it could be used and then find a
way to clear it from the furniture and then set working on the spells.
“You could try the imperturbable charm and the muffiato charm, and I think the Notice-Me-
Not charm would also be good, so students passing by won’t notice the door as much,
making it easier to go in and out,” Remus recommended and Hermione smiled at him.
“Oh Remus, I miss you so much during classes.” She said and his entire face lit up and grew
soft. He tugged her to his side and she wrapped her arms around his middle. He dropped a
kiss on her hair and squeezed her.
She tried to control her breathing because from murderers to torturers, she hadn’t had the best
of times after he left and Hermione didn’t want to cry now, because they would certainly
inquire and she was terrified of letting them know.
“Pup, you are doing well enough without me.” He told her and her resolve began to waver.
Hermione pulled back and decided to change topics before she did cry. “Sirius," she turned to
him, “Harry told me there are many portraits at your house. Do you have one?”
“What?” He asked, “Why would I have one? I’m alive and either way, Mother disowned me
when I was fifteen, I didn’t have time to sit for one.”
“Oh. Only dead people have them?” She asked,
“What's with the sudden curiosity? Are you thinking of getting one of yours done?” Sirius
asked jokingly.
“No, it’s—” She hesitated, she wouldn’t get an answer from Sirius, not if he had simply
bolted at the thought of his brother. She remembered Terry Boot’s comment and went with it,
“someone said a portrait at Dumbledore’s office told them that Harry had defeated the
basilisk with the Gryffindor Sword, but Harry told me the portraits at Grimmauld Place are
less… say, communicative.”
Sirius snorted. “You can say that. But yeah, generally portraits are made at the end of one’s
life when someone is old enough that might topple at any moment—”
“Sirius,”
“But not always. Some families can have them at graduation or get some with everyone
together. Most of them resemble very little resemblance to the actual person.” He snorted,
“Unfortunately, my mother’s is verytruthful to her.”
“That is because the degree to which they can interact with the people around depends on the
power of the wizard of witch painted, there’s little to do with the painter,” Remus added
because Sirius’ expression had grown sour at the mention of his mother. “Most portraits can
only say some of the person’s favourite phrases—” Sirius snorted, “and imitate their general
demeanour based on the painter’s perception of them,” Remus explained.
“But Old Families, like mine or the Malfoys for example, had an extra something to them.
Generally, a portrait knows very little if anything of the person’s life, making conversations
very dull and uninformative. However, mother and uncle Cygnus, that’s Narcissa’s father,
would sit for hours and hours in front of their portraits, teaching them, and telling family
secrets. The ones at Cygnus’ old house were as alive as you and me. Mother would get my
great-grandfather Cygnus’ portrait during some dinners and we would suffer hours of his
monologue, where he let every single one of us know disappointed he was with us.” Sirius
told her with a scowl, “Cissy is quite vain, I’m certain she has had hers painted already and is
taking tea with it telling all about her husband’s recent re-employment.”
“Oh, I see.” She said. “I was curious about it, thank you.”
“No problem kiddo,” He said.
Hermione knew that if James and Lily had made portraits of each other, either Sirius or
Remus would have commented on the opening. Merlin, Hermione was certain that Sirius
would spend hours talking to James through it. Hermione was pretty sure they wouldn’t find
any from them. Sirius didn’t have one, but there might be an odd chance that Regulus had.
He had dozens and dozens of journals from his years at Hogwarts, it made sense that a person
invested in their memories and life as he had been would make one. No one wrote a journal if
they didn’t want people to read it. There was no safer place than one own’s mind.
“I better get going, I’m certain I will have an earful waiting for me.” She said and they
laughed.
“If he didn’t want you to come, he wouldn’t have allowed you,” Remus said with a pointed
look. Hermione nodded, but she knew that circumstances had played a role in that.
Hermione turned to the Floo and with a last goodbye to both of them, stepped inside, this
time properly.
Severus was still grading papers, she was certain that he had kept position and was waiting
for her, “Did you get what you needed?” He asked.
“Yes, thank you,” Hermione replied. There was an awkward silence as they looked at one
another until Severus sighed.
“Hermione, what you said, we can forget all about it until you are ready for it. It’s fragile
enough without things being awkward again.”
“No.” She said, shaking her head. It was out now. It might not have been in the way she
wanted it, but at least that was out and done. “I've been thinking about it.” She said, her voice
quiet, “I call you father in my head.” She confessed and the surprise flashed in his dark eyes
as the first kiss of flames on coal. “I had this idea that taking this last step had to be, I don’t
know, momentous and right, but I guess it came when the situation called for it.”
“Thank you,” he said. “It’s…More than I ever hoped for.” Hermione gave a short nod. “But
don’t make a habit of using it to get things your way,” he told her and she smiled, recognising
the playful tone. He was joking. Severus Snape was actually making a joke.
Was there more to him? To his seriousness and solitude? Would she ever get to see him
without his many walls? Hermione didn’t know, but one thing was already clear: she’d get
the world from him by calling him father.
October began with the article Sirius mentioned. A long one. It had insider information about
Severus’ relationship with her, students claiming that he ignored her completely and grew
annoyed when someone mentioned her, that to a passerby, no one would think they were
related, as their interactions ranged between cold and inexistent. She knew the culprits were
either Slytherins or Gryffindors because the author had written about the incident on the first
day of classes when she upended her cauldron and he put her in detention. Hermione was
dying to know who had told the Prophet.
The theories behind such treatment varied, some said it was because Severus was
embarrassed that his affair had resulted in a child and an unaccomplished one - it mentioned
that she hadn’t gotten the Prefect badge while mentioning that both Severus and Lily had
been Prefects - when Severus was known for being a genius in potion making. Others
appointed Hermione’s affection towards the ‘Half-breed Remus Lupin’ as the reason, certain
that he was filling her mind with awful things about better wizards. That specific part was
telling enough, Hermione was certain that either Umbridge or someone with similar views
had been behind such a wondrous piece of writing. But the ones that Hermione found to be
most offensive were the ones that blamed her ‘relationships’ - all of them fabricated by
Skeeter in the previous year - to be the cause of their estrangement. Severus, as the writer put
it, was a very private person, known to keep his relationships hidden - there was a mean
comment about the whole cheating thing that was borderline offensive to James Potter - that
Hermione flaunting hers at such a young age was perceived as very inappropriate.
Hermione set the entire thing into flames once she finished reading, but many students
subscribed to the newspaper and whispering followed her for the remainder of the week. But
it made clear at least, where she stood with the Wizarding World: while Harry was the Boy-
Who-Lived, she was not the Girl-Who-Disappeared, she was the Missing Sister. She was an
addition to his name, an extra on the story and the Wizarding World cared only for the boy.
Appalling things could be written about her and no one would care to believe otherwise.
She shrugged it off and ignored the eyes on her back and the comments as she passed.
Severus obviously grew more dictatorial in classes and anyone could get detention for
breathing too loud. After one Potions class, Harry tugged on her sleeve and muttered ‘stay'
for her. She nodded and remained seated while the rest of the class filled out. Ron didn’t
comment, so Hermione figured that he probably already knew what Harry wanted to tell her.
Severus, who had his back turned to the students while he erased his board, hadn’t noticed
the pair had stayed behind. Only when everyone else had left and Harry spoke did he turn
around in surprise.
“There’s something wrong,” Harry said. Hermione noticed how he also included Severus
while he talked, looking at him and waiting for him to come closer before continuing, “My
scar keeps burning.” He told, “but it’s not only pain I feel. I get flashes of emotions as well.”
“Like what?” Severus asked and when he reached to get a better look at the scar by moving
the fringe to the side and Harry didn’t even flinch, Hermione wondered how much they
talked during their Occlumency lessons. Harry didn’t mention them, not even to complain,
but she knew he was still having them.
“Like when he's pleased or angry with something. After Umbridge’s last detention, it was
because he was pleased. Really pleased. I could—He thought something good was going to
happen.”
“When was your last detention with Umbridge?” Severus asked, “the date.”
“It was a Tuesday in our second week of classes.” Hermione supplied. He nodded.
“Were there other instances?” He asked Harry.
“Yeah, the night before I came back to Hogwarts. He was furious then, really angry. And just
yesterday after our Quidditch practice… He was angry again.”
Hermione noticed her father nodding to the instances, trying to create connections to the days
and the probable reason for these changes in humour.
“Is it just his emotions, or do you get anything else? A flash, a vision…” Severus asked and
Harry nodded.
“It's not a vision, but a weird knowledge. Like, I know he wants something done, I don’t
know how, but I just do. When he got happy, it was because he knew he got what he
wanted… And then yesterday he was angry because something wasn't happening fast
enough.”
“I barely get any information when I’m in Hogwarts.” He told them, “I have to get
information out. But I know whom to ask. If these specific instances match his behaviours we
will know.”
“You mean Lucius and Narcissa.” Hermione said, a weird emotion inside her chest. Narcissa
hadn’t spoken to her since the summer. And she knew Draco wasn’t writing to either of his
parents as well.
“Yes,” Severus replied and watched her. “You know, there’s something she asked me to tell
you and I just remembered now.”
“I don’t care what Narcissa has to say.” Hermione retorted.
“She asked you to remember what she has always told you.” He told her anyway, ignoring
her glare, “‘No true harm and we will always reach’. Whatever that means.”
Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat. She looked away, blinking hard to keep from
crying. “So what does it mean? Harry’s fated to know whatever Voldemort’s feeling?” She
asked, going back to the previous topic.
Severus watched her for a while longer. Hermione knew he wouldn’t ask her, but she knew
he was worried and would like to.
“Dumbledore told me this last year,” Harry said. “He said that when Voldemort was near me
when he was feeling hatred, I could tell… I guess the other ones as well.”
“Have you told Dumbledore about this?” Severus asked.
“Not this year, but when it happened last year, yes.”
“Tell him,” Severus instructed and Harry groaned.
“He's not speaking to me, is he? Since that day at your place, he hasn’t spoken to me.”
“Either way, try to make an effort.”
“Why?” Harry asked.
“Because Hermione can’t look at him without glaring,” she opened her mouth to argue but he
just gave her a look and she sighed, “if you stop going to him, he will probably think you
have someone else to go to, which is true, but he doesn’t need to know it.” Severus said, “at
least not right now.”
Harry nodded and they left after that, Severus promising to let them know when he found
exactly what Voldemort wanted.
“Oh, before I forget! We've found a place to have our first meeting. Tonight, eight o’clock.”
He told her and her eyes widened in surprise.
“Where?”
“It’s called the Room of Requirement,” he told her. “Seventh floor opposite that tapestry of
Barnabas the Barmy being clubbed by those trolls.” Hermione nodded, she knew which one
he was talking about. “Tell your friends and the Ravenclaws. I got the Gryffindors and the
Hufflepuffs.”
“All right, how did you find it?”
“I asked Dobby for help, and he told me about it.”
Dobby! Dobby was a free elf, he could do as he pleased and it pleased him immensely to do
things for Harry. Hermione could ask him for help as well, especially if she told Dobby that it
was for Harry. Because it was. She had very little personal interest in this particular quest.
And Dobby had worked for the Malfoys, he knew the family, and she could go as far as to
believe that he even knew the Blacks.
Yes, she’d ask Dobby and get this whole Regulus thing out of the way.
Back in the Great Hall, she set out to spread the news of their first meeting and made sure
that the Ravenclaws were also aware of it in time.
And Merlin, five years and she still got goosebumps at how wonderful and magical the castle
was. Once they were standing in front of the wall, with Harry slightly in front of them, they
watched with bated breath as a highly polished door appeared on the wall. Ron was staring at
it, looking slightly wary. Harry reached out, seized the brass handle, pulled open the door,
and led the way into a spacious room lit with flickering torches like those that illuminated the
dungeons Hermione and her friends called home eight floors below.
The walls were lined with wooden bookcases, and instead of chairs, there were large silk
cushions on the floor. A set of shelves at the far end of the room carried a range of
instruments such as Sneakoscopes, Secrecy Sensors, and a large, cracked Foe-Glass that
Hermione recognised from Moody’s office last year.
“These will be good when we’re practising Stunning,” said Ron enthusiastically, prodding
one of the cushions with his foot.
“And just look at these books!” Hermione exclaimed excitedly, running a finger along the
spines of the large leather-bound tomes. “A Compendium of Common Curses and Their
Counter-Actions… The Dark Arts Outsmarted… Self-Defensive Spellwork… There’s even
one on Shield magic! Dra—” she stopped mid-sentence, he wasn’t there. Hermione’s
shoulders dropped and for a moment she let herself feel how much his absence hurt. Those
stolen moments were not enough.
She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to find Blaise there. “I know.” He told her with a
small squeeze. “I miss the dickhead too.”
Hermione nodded and offered him a smile. She turned back to Harry, “Harry, this is
wonderful, there’s everything we need here!”
Around her, everyone was also touching and prodding around. Some Hufflepuff boys were
throwing themselves on the cushions to test for future Stunning. Her friends were staring
around, impressed. “What is this place?” Daphne asked.
Harry began to explain, as people sat down on the cushions around them. Every single one
was occupied. The room knew exactly how many of them were there.
Hermione, standing next to her brother, said. “I think we ought to elect a leader,”
“Harry’s leader,” Cho said at once, looking at Hermione as though she were mad. Hermione
lifted an eyebrow at the girl.
“Yes, but I think we ought to vote on it properly,” Hermione replied. “It makes it formal and
it gives him authority. So — everyone who thinks Harry ought to be our leader?”
Everybody put up their hands, even Zacharias Smith, though he did it very halfheartedly.
“Er — right, thanks,” Harry replied a bit awkwardly.
She grinned at him and continued, “I also think we ought to have a name. It would promote a
feeling of team spirit and unity, don’t you think?”
“Can we be the Anti-Umbridge League?” asked Angelina hopefully.

“Or the Ministry of Magic Are Morons Group?” suggested Fred. “But we call it MOMAMG?
So it’s not a mouthful?”
“We need a name that’s not obvious what we are doing, don’t you think? So it’s safe to talk
about it outside.”
“The Defense Association?” Cho suggested, looking at Harry instead of Hermione. “The
D.A. for short, so nobody knows what we’re talking about?”
“Yeah, the D.A.’s good,” Ginny agreed. “Only let’s make it stand for Dumbledore’s Army
because that’s the Ministry’s worst fear, isn’t it?
There was a good deal of appreciative murmuring and laughter at this. Hermione didn't like
the idea of putting Dumbledore’s name on it. A quick glance at Harry told her he felt the
same.
“The ones in favour of the D.A. raise their hands,” Hermione asked and began counting the
raised hands, quickly passing by every Slytherin who didn't bother with a vote, apparently
democracy was beneath them. “That’s a majority.”
She pinned the piece of paper with all of their names on it on the wall and wrote D.A. across
the top in large letters.
“This is actually great,” Blaise said, “We can call it whatever, like Dolores' Asshat”
“Or Dolores' Abuse,” Theo suggested.
“Dumbledore's Arrogance!” That one was Pansy.
“Okay.” Hermione said when everyone began to show their thesaurus skills by throwing
adjectives with the letter A. “D.A. is good enough and can stand for whatever you want,
especially Don’t Alarm others.”
Blaise chuckled, “Neat.”
“Right,” Harry said with a chuckle of his own, “let's get practising then?” He asked. They all
nodded.
“Since we have people from the fourth year up, I think we should start with the basics and
then separate accordingly to those who have it down helping the ones who might have more
difficulty,” Hermione suggested and they all nodded in agreement.
“I was thinking, the first thing we should do is Expelliarmus, you know, the Disarming
Charm. As Hermione said, it’s pretty basic but I’ve found it really useful—”
“Oh please,” Zacharias Smith started, rolling his eyes and folding his arms. “I don’t think
Expelliarmus is exactly going to help us against You-Know-Who, do you?”
“I’ve used it against him,” Harry replied curtly. “It saved my life last June.” Smith opened his
mouth stupidly. The rest of the room was very quiet. “But if you think it’s beneath you, you
can leave,” Harry said and because Hermione knew her friend very well, she shot a look at
Pansy. Expectedly, she was looking. Just like Cho and Ginny.
Well, someone was getting popular.
“Okay,” she said, “Everybody pair up. Pansy, no.” Hermione added when the raven-haired
walked towards Ron.
“Chill,” Pansy said with a smirk and throwing her short hair behind her back, walked towards
Neville who had been left partnerless.
“That might be potentially worse,” Daphne murmured to her as they partnered up.
Hermione nodded. “But at least I won’t have Ron making it my fault.”
The room was suddenly full of shouts of Expelliarmus. Wands flying in all directions, the
ones who missed, hit books on shelves and sent them flying into the air. Hermione disarmed
Daphne quickly and the girl pouted but once got her wand back, managed to disarm her after
a couple of tries.
Pansy was too good for Neville, whose wand kept spinning out of his hand and landing in
different places around him. But instead of making fun of him, she was actually being
helpful. Twice Hermione and Daphne stopped practising to watch Pansy fix Neville’s stance
and wand grip.
“What is wrong with her?” Daphne asked, her face a mixture of disbelief and confusion.
Harry had come up to them, “You two are good, right?” He asked. They both nodded.
“There's a lot of shoddy spellwork going on, help me find the ones who know what they are
doing so we can get them to help the ones who need, like what Parkinson is doing over
there,”
Hermione nodded and then smirked, “It's nice, isn’t it? Giving orders.”
Harry chuckled, “that's how it feels being you all the time?”
“Yep.” She grinned. “Let's go, Daph.”
Hermione went straight to Theo and Blaise, who were both not only disarming one another
but trying to make their wands fall exactly where they wanted. “Harry wants us to help those
who might need it.” She told them. Together, they looked around them, Daphne was next to
Zacharias Smith, who had his wand flying out of his hand every time he opened his mouth.
He didn’t like receiving help from a Slytherin but Daphne wasn’t giving him much option.
Especially because she was poking his side with her wand. It turned out Zacharias’ problem
were the twins doing, as Hermione caught Harry talking to the twins who were sniggering.
“Where should we go?” Theo asked.
“Michael Corner needs help or it’s his idea to hurt Ginny…” Hermione pointed out.
“Let me—” Blaise began,
“No. You are not getting anywhere near those Ravenclaws.” Theo said and moved to go, not
before turning to Hermione and saying, “Give him the Hufflepuffs Granger,”
“I like when he’s jealous,” Blaise commented with a small smile.
“I like when the two of you give me a break,” She said with a shake of her head, “There,” she
said, spotting Ernie Macmillan's over flourish movements, “Go there.”
Hermione found the Creevey brothers and alternated between helping them. The
upperclassmen had also started to help the others, she saw Pucey and Cornfoot helping two
Hufflepuffs while the seventh-year girls from Gryffindor were helping Lavender and Parvati.
Suddenly, Harry blew a whistle and everyone stopped, lowering their wands. “That wasn’t
bad,” Harry began, “but there’s definite room for improvement.” Zacharias Smith glared at
him, Daphne poked him again.
“Will you stop that!”
“Let’s try again…I want you to watch the ones who got the hang of it for a while. Pay
attention to their stance—” Pansy pushed out her chest for some reason. “—and how they
move their wand arm,” Fred made a handjob movement, “—before you try again.”
Blaise and Theo paired first, firing at one another a couple of times before they made space
for Pansy and Daphne. The twins also showed their work, as did the seventh-years. They
rearranged some of the pairs, putting the ones who had more difficulty together. Harry moved
off around the room again, stopping here and there to make suggestions. She noticed that they
were getting better, fewer and fewer books and bookshelves were being hit and more and
more they could hear the sound of wands hitting the floor.
Hermione helped as much as she could, and also kept an eye on her troublemaker friends that
lived off causing mayhem. She glanced at the clock and saw that it was already ten past nine.
Shit, “Harry!” She called, and he turned from his conversation with Cho. “Look at the time!”
He looked and his eyes grew wide. He blew the whistle again. “Let's call it a night.” He said
once everyone stopped, “some of you have a long way to go and we can’t risk getting caught
on our first day.” Everyone nodded in agreement. “Same time, same place next week?” He
asked.
“Sooner!” Dean Thomas said eagerly and many people nodded in agreement. Hermione
smiled proudly.
Angelina, however, made a face, “The Quidditch season’s about to start, we need team
practices too!”
“Let’s say next Wednesday night, then,” Harry said and they nodded, “and we can decide on
additional meetings then…Come on, we’d better get going.”
The groups left in three and fours and Hermione got to the dungeons with Pansy imitating
Cho’s performance “Expelliarmious! I mean, Expellimellius! I— oh, sorry!” She said in an
overly girly voice. “Please! She took her O.W.Ls last year! She knows how to cast that spell!
She just wanted to show off to Potter.”
Blaise huffed in amusement, “Imagine that,”
On Monday morning, breakfast was good as always and Hermione watched with that same
awe that she believed would never face as the owls arrived with the post.
A Hogwarts owl dropped the morning edition of the Daily Prophet and before she could
place her goblet back on the table to look at it, another owl dropped an envelope in front of
her.
Hermione frowned, she wasn’t expecting a post and the writing on the back wasn’t one that
she recognised. Hermione picked it up and turned it around. Mary McDonald, it read. Her
eyes widened. It couldn’t be, could it? Would the woman Sirius and Moody were supposedly
looking for, the woman whom neither Remus nor her father knew whether was alive or not,
simply drop a letter on a Monday morning?
Hermione cast a few spells on the envelope, checking it for hexes. When nothing turned up,
she opened the letter warily, knowing that since the news of her birth had come out - and then
again - she had gotten a few weird correspondences.
Dear Hermione, I have struggled for two years with whether I could write to you or not. And not because of you, you
very much deserve this letter. But because I’m selfish and for the past 16 years I have done nothing but hide from this
world and I wasn’t sure that I wanted to be found. I suppose you don’t know who I am, and that’s fine. My name is
Mary McDonald and I went to school with your parents. I was a Gryffindor and shared a dormitory with your
mother for seven years. She was my best friend and everything to me. We always said we’d be together till the end,
but we never thought our end would come so soon. When funerals became too many and I had worn more black
pieces than any other colour for weeks, when the seven of us became the two of us, I could only leave. There wasn’t
anything for me to stay. But of course, there he was, it’s always him at the end. He has to get all the thunder and
muck up everyone’s plans. Sirius’ face was plastered on the muggle news and I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I still had
your mother’s letter with me, after all. It was ugly back then, well, I think it’s going to be ugly again. I’m sorry. I
think she knew I’d run, that’s why she gave it to me and not Remus. I am muggle-born too and I never felt like I had
much of a place in the wizarding world after Hogwarts. I guess with our odds, she knew I was the one most likely to
survive. Lily was always the smartest of us four girls. I’ve held the truth for so long now that I think they won’t
forgive me, but again, I never thought I'd have to explain myself. Severus was supposed to be evil, Peter was
supposed to be dead, Sirius was supposed to be locked away and Remus, well, Remus was always the strongest one. I
was the one to walk Lily under James’ cloak that night when she met with Severus. So I’m partially to blame for your
existence and the mess you are probably in right now. And I know it’s a mess. Everything involving the Marauders
and the rest of us is nothing but messy. But Sirius escaped and everything changed. I saw that the world I had run
away from had finally caught up to me. I couldn’t keep myself apart anymore, I got too curious. I wanted to see if you
were alive. I was worried about Remus. I was… alone. I read the daily prophet eagerly once the news of Remus being
appointed DADA teacher came out because I knew it was only a matter of time until we all learned whether you were
alive or not, but as the semester began and nothing came out, I began losing hope. But then the rumour started and
Hogwarts has always been a rumour mill, we learned the truth. Almost the entire truth. Sirius had been innocent all
along (how could we have ever believed that he’d betray James, of all people?). I saw your lone effort, the way you
pulled your strings in that house of yours and every snob was telling everyone that wanted to hear how Sirius Black,
from the noble house, was innocent. And small, Gryffindor, Pete was the traitor in the end. Is it nice having all those
purebloods worshipping the ground where you walk? I wish I could see it. After, I could only think: Lily would have
done the same. Lily would be so proud. It was brave of you, and it was then that I realised I couldn't wait any longer.
I wasn't going to. I had the letter written and was going to send it. But then the World Cup happened and that
muggle family terrified and up in the air was the only thing I could see for weeks. It could have been me. And my
parents. And I just know that they only Obliviated the poor family and now they are probably somewhere not
knowing that they almost died because of some bastards. I remembered why I left. I didn’t want to live in a world
where the good guys are only ‘good’ because they are slightly above the genocide line. I retreated. And I watched.
And then He came back. And the entire truth came out. God, I can only imagine the shitshow that you might be in. It
was supposed to be me and Remus. Not Remus, Sirius, Peter and Severus. Sirius hated Severus more than anything
and anyone. I just know that 16 years wasn’t enough time to wash all that hatred. And Remus loved Sirius more than
anything and anyone. 16 years is a long time to spend thinking you lost your love. And Severus is such an asshole that
I just know he won’t have the emotional range to tell you everything that you need to know. I couldn’t be selfish
anymore. Lily had trusted me and I had taken long enough. I was the first to know. That you were Severus’ and not
James’ and I remember how excited and terrified Lily was of you. We were at war, she had just gotten married and
Severus was trying to kill all of us with those lunatics. I remember asking her what she was going to do, if she was
going to tell either man and she looked at me like I was crazy, like how could I have asked such a thing? Because of
course, Lily Evans was going to be honest. Hermione, I have a piece of information that no one else has: James knew.
She told him before she told Severus. She told him before she told Remus. When we learned of the prophecy, it was
his idea to try to take you out. To save at least you. They knew that if You-Know-Who came for Harry, they would die
trying to keep him safe. It was James who said that you had a way out. I have said quite a lot. I will let them speak
now. I haven’t read their letter, because it was not addressed to me. So I can’t prepare you for what they said. But
from what I have learned of you, I don’t think I need it to.
A hand touched her forearm and Hermione snapped her head back up. Only then did she
realise she was shaking and that a few tears were running down her cheeks.
“Are you all right?” Blaise asked. Hermione didn’t know what to say, to be honest, she didn’t
think she had the words to explain anything to them. It wasn’t only Blaise’s worried
expression that was boring into her. Theo and Daphne had matching worried expressions and
Pansy was not so subtly trying to read the letter over her shoulder.
Hermione reached for the envelope and saw that indeed there was another letter enclosed
inside, this one was much older and thicker. She couldn’t read whatever was inside there on
the breakfast table. “I have to go.” She said and quickly pocketed both letters. Not waiting for
them to try and stop her, she got up and left. It was only when she heard Pansy ask “who is
Mary McDonald?” that Hermione realised she had forgotten the envelope on the table.
The first class was Binns and she decided that this was a good time to skive off. Hermione
didn’t know where she was going to go. The dormitory wasn’t an option, the girls would find
her in a blink, any other hiding place the boys knew. She crossed the courtyard and
remembered that Remus had said something about an empty office and decided to go there.
Harry had found the Room of Requirement before she got to tell him, she knew it was a safe
choice. If they wanted to find her, they could ask Harry for the map. But only Draco knew of
the map and she knew they wouldn’t be going to him for help.
Hermione was still trembling when she reached Professor Merrythought’s office. She closed
the door behind her and locked it with a spell. Sirius was telling the truth, it was enormous.
There was a giant dining table that could seat at least twelve, there were two sofas in front of
the fireplace and a piano on the corner.
She unfolded the letter with careful fingers and took a sharp intake of breath, readying herself
for it. There were two sheets of paper, muggle ones, with lines and all. Hermione skimmed
over Lily’s calligraphy, trying to find any resemblance in their penmanship. She couldn’t.
What she did notice instead was that she recognised the calligraphy, she was certain of it,
Hermione had seen it somewhere before, in one of her books. Deciding to search for that
after, she started the letter.
My Dear daughter, I hope you never have to read this. I hope that in a few years from now, I can sit in front of you on
our sofa, just like we are now as I write this, and tell you everything. I hope that Harry will be next to you and not
trying to steal your toy from you. I sure hope that you two fight a little bit less than you do now. I almost didn’t want
to write this, trying to pretend that none of what is happening is real, but James insisted that we should. Halloween is
next week and we are excited about it, it is not going to be anything big since no one will come to visit us and surely
the two of you can’t go Trick or Treating with the neighbours, but James is preparing something for you and Harry,
never mind that neither of you will ever remember this. But he is doing it because he wants to tell you about it when
you are older and we can laugh about our fears. But this is the future. Now, our fears are very much real. With you,
especially, I have feared since the beginning. But you made me braver, braver than I thought I could ever be. You are
not James’, even though he insists that you are, telling me that almost passing out from crying at your birth qualifies
him as father and no one else. And it is true. He’s your dad and it was the first word you ever said. And it is going to
still be true years from now when we tell you of your other father. I can’t even try to predict where he will be years
from now, if he will still be gone or if he will change for you. His name is Severus Snape and he was my very first
friend. We were neighbours and he told me all about magic before I even got my letter. He wasn’t a nice boy, but he
was nice to me and I was glad to have a friend. We were best friends up until our fifth year and maybe I should have
tried harder, maybe I should have insisted more, but in the end, we both left. It was war, you see, we had to pick sides
and we chose different ones. But he was my best friend and I never gave up on any of them. Never. I think you will be
like me in this regard because Harry annoys you to no end and yet, you are immensely patient and kind with him. I
hope you two grow to be best friends. I had one last chance to try to get to Severus and I tried everything I could. I
knew he was in love with me and I thought that love would be enough if only I gave it back a little bit. It worked, in
parts. You are here and Merlin, I love you so much. And I think he loves you too. Because he was the one to tell
Dumbledore that Voldemort thought Harry was the child in the prophecy. Because he begged for us to be put to
safety. And that was before I told him. I wanted him to know in case something happens to me and James. I want him
to try to take you before Voldemort comes. Because Voldemort does not spare anyone. And that is why I think he
loves you too: He wrote to me almost immediately saying that nothing would ever happen to you. I just hope he can
love you better than he loved me. Again, I hope you never have to read this letter. I hope I can wait for your
Hogwarts letter with you - and it will come, you are only two and you already float your toys so Harry can’t grab
them. I want to be by your side when the wand chooses you. I want to cross the barrier together, the four of us. But
everything is dark now and every time we are brave enough to wish for something, they take it from us. If you are
reading this, please darling, know that I am sorry and that we tried our best. We love you very much. We were
planning to give this letter to Remus, but he has been missing for the past few days and we are scared something
happened to him. I refuse to believe that he has left us. Mary is leaving soon, I know. I don’t blame her. Marlene’s
death was too much on her. This letter will reach her first and I hope she never has to deliver it to you. I hope she can
come back and make me burn it. I hope Remus will come back too, and he and Sirius can work out their latest fight.
I’m partially to blame for their fight. Remus knows the truth about you, and I have asked him to keep it a secret
from Sirius. It has become a strain on their relationship. The reason why Remus knows is that I chose him to be your
godfather. I hope you learn this by yourself, in your heart and in the bond between you two. If you ever have to read
this letter, my only wish is that these names mean something to you, that in some way, you have found your place
back with your family. Not knowing is the worst part. Not knowing where you will go and who will be with you. I
hope you have a good life even if we can’t be with you. I hope you understand. I hope you can think of me as a
mother because you are my baby girl. I hope we can have it forever, till the end.
Hermione folded the letter and rested her head on her knees, her shoulders shaking. She
wished she could think of Lily as a mother, but it wasn’t as easy as it was to think of Harry as
a brother. Being Harry’s sister came easily, it felt almost natural in the end. To finally
understand and name why she felt so much for him. But Lily… It was different. Maybe if her
mother hadn’t been an amazing one, hadn’t given her everything and made her feel loved,
maybe she’d think of Lilly as her mother, maybe she’d feel this love that Harry felt so
abundantly.
But Harry had been deprived of love his entire life and nonetheless, love came so easily for
him. He loved Lily because she was his mom and died to save him. He loved James because
he was his dad and he died to save him. He had no one else to call mum and dad. Hermione
did. Hermione apparently was overflowing in the dad department.
Lily’s letter hurt all the same because Hermione could feel her love and despair. She had
written it a week before Halloween. They were planning to celebrate it, but they died instead.
This letter was hers, but she felt like others needed to read it more than she did. Harry and
Sirius certainly did. She read one line over and over again: that in some way, you have found
your place back to your family. Because she did. All those names made sense to her, she
knew them and loved them. They had all fallen into places like dominoes and Hermione
deeply appreciated that at least something had turned out how Lily wanted it to.
Severus had seen his daughter’s complexion grow white and her eyes widen in surprise, he
had seen her friends’ worry and how she quickly left after whatever she got in that letter. He
couldn’t quite go after her but he kept glaring at them in hopes that one would have the mind
to look back at him.
In the end, it was Theodore who did. Parkinson had passed the envelope around and once
Theodore grabbed it, he looked up towards the high table. He pocketed it and gave a short
nod in Severus’ direction. Merlin bless that boy.
Theodore left ten minutes before breakfast ended, while Severus waited patiently for the
professors to begin to leave so he could go as well without raising suspicion. Once Minerva
and Vector rose from their seats and resumed their gossip towards the Staff Room, Severus
used the opportunity to slip away as well. He walked briskly to his office, knowing he’d find
Theodore inside.
“What happened?” He asked once he arrived, finding the boy leaning against his desk with an
envelope in his hands.
“It turns out she’s not dead after all.” The boy replied, handing the envelope over.
Mary McDonald.
Fuck.
She was alive. No one besides the Order knew of Mary’s involvement. Unless someone
inside had a twisted sense of humour, there was no way someone could have sent it in her
name as a ruse. What did she have to say? Merlin knew how terrible he had been to her when
they were at school. His godson could be considered friendly towards the youngest Weasley
boy when compared to Severus’ attitude towards Mary.
And why now? Why hadn’t she appeared before? Everyone knew who Hermione truly was
for over a year now, why didn’t she write then when Peter escaped? Did something happen?
Or did she know something?
“Where is Hermione?” He asked.
“I don’t know.” The boy replied, “She left without saying. But there was more than one letter
inside. She took it with her.”
Shit. He felt his insides freezing. A second letter. Was it also from her or someone else? What
if was from—No, he wouldn’t go down that rabbit hole now. He had a day of classes with
stupid schoolchildren he needed his mind in the proper place lest Umbridge decided on yet
another inspection. He occluded and hid Lily’s green eyes from the front of his mind as soon
as they appeared.
“If Hermione doesn’t show up to class go after Potter, he knows how to find her.”
Theodore nodded and Severus watched the boy leave. Once the door was closed behind him,
Severus willed his mind to be still as an unperturbed lake.
Severus had to wait until after lunch, for Hermione had skipped both morning classes and
only returned for their class at one in the afternoon. Silently, he appreciated that she showed
up, they both knew he wouldn’t say anything to her missing a class due to whatever Mary
McDonald had decided to write, but by deciding to appear, it told him that she had decided to
share it with him. And that piece of trust was deeply cherished by him.
She didn’t sit on her usual seat though, choosing to sit with Miss Greengrass instead. A
conscious choice, because he knew Miss Greengrass was the least to bombard her with
questions. As her brother was currently on the edge of his chair inching his body towards her
to catch her attention.
Because he was paying extra attention, he saw something else too. His godson, with whom he
previously believed Hermione had parted ways after what happened at the Manor, was
looking at Hermione with so much worry in his grey eyes that Severus wondered if the storm
on them would rain upon his classroom. The boy tapped the tip of his wand to the ring on his
little finger - a new addition, he noted only then - and not a moment later Hermione looked
down at her bracelet - yet another new addition - and very covertly tapped her wand in the
same manner he had done. Interesting. Narcissa had been wrong, the pair had learned how to
be subtle. They were still seeing one another under every single one of their friends’ noses.
The class went smoothly for once and when Hermione kept her questions to a minimum and
quickly packed her things once he dismissed them, he wondered if he had misunderstood and
she would instead flee from the class as soon as she could. The disappointment had time only
to be made itself known because she then lingered on the sinks washing her cauldron and
tools, while Harry was taking his sweet time to bottle his potion.
“I will catch up with all of you later,” she told her friends and they nodded. Severus noted
that Draco hadn’t even thrown a glance at her or hesitated. It chilled him to see how good the
boy had gotten. Other than that initial moment, there was nothing but detachment in his
expression. It was understandable why Zabini and Nott were so taken on glaring at him
whenever they could.
“This is becoming a habit.” He told them when Hermione returned from her thorough
washing. Once again, the three of them sat together at one of the school desks.
“You sent Theo after Harry so he could check where I was.” Hermione retorted.
I worried about you, he thought of saying, but he couldn’t get the words to leave, so instead,
he waited in silence while she retrieved the letters from the pocket in her robes.
He saw her hands shaking slightly as she looked between him and Harry. She was nervous to
show them the letters and it dawned on Severus then, he had been right. The second one
could only be from Lily, no one else could have made Hermione this apprehensive.
“She’s alive,” Hermione started, the letters still in her trembling hands. And because Severus
had held Lily’s cold body in his arms, he knew she was talking about Mary. “And James
knew.” She said, looking at Harry, “Lily told your dad, Harry.”
Severus felt the years crashing down on his chest. From the first train ride to that night
outside the Gryffindor common room. After Hogwarts, from the moment outside her parents’
house to every meeting with Remus since. The plans, the secrets, the people they hid from
and lied to.
She gave Harry the letter and the boy opened it hastily to read, Severus leaned to read over
the boy’s shoulder. All this time she had been alive. While he waited for Hermione, one of his
theories had been a late postal spell, he knew Gringotts offered the service and considered an
option, but no, this paper was merely days old. Even if it wasn’t for the paper, the fact that
Mary only called him evil and an asshole was clue enough. Had she written this years ago,
she’d have bestowed many more names upon him.
Somewhere in the world, Mary McDonald was alive and well.
A piece of him, a very small and hidden piece of him was glad that she was alive because it
felt right. All these years, the knowledge that more people on the Dark side had lived after the
war than Light sat wrong in his stomach. To know he had more classmates alive than Remus
was wrong and twisted. But Mary was alive.
James had known all along. And he didn’t think of telling either of his friends. The kids
wouldn’t realise it, but Severus knew it meant that even Perfect Potter had doubted his
friends. Pettigrew, being the spy he was, would have told Voldemort at once. Black, well,
they had seen how Black reacted. But why keep it from Remus? Did Potter think that if it
came from him, Remus wouldn’t help? Or that he wouldn’t keep it from Black?
Harry had finished the letter and his entire body was posed in anxiety while he eyed the other
letter in Hermione’s hands. Lily’s letter. Something of his mother.
Hermione hesitated, but it wasn’t because of Harry, no, it was because of him. There was
something in that letter that Hermione felt he wouldn’t like.
It didn’t matter, Severus knew that whatever Lilly had to say about him, was what he
deserved.
She gave them the letter and the pain upon seeing her calligraphy once more was visceral.
Severus had his own letter from her and her many scribbles on his books and notebooks, but
he knew every curve and sharp stroke of them, he could mimic her t and b with precision and
if he closed his eyes, he could call all her little notes to mind. This was new. It was lines and
lines of her letters and her. He didn’t care if all of them were about how terrible he was as a
person, after fifteen years, he had a new piece of her in front of his very eyes.
He read everything twice and then a third time, he could see where she stopped and where
she breezed past, how she didn’t like contractions or the way her Ts would sometimes
connect with the Fs from the next word. But most of all, he could hear her voice as he read,
her tone and cadence, her soft laugh and her sharp reprimand. Severus took a step back once
he finished and looked up to find Hermione watching him.
Her brown eyes were clouded and her eyebrows were slightly furrowed in worry. Oh Lily, he
thought, don’t you worry about that, I love her better. And there was no pain behind that
knowledge. There was no jealousy or obsession behind his love for Hermione, he wasn’t
being pulled down by his need to prove himself or to be better than James Potter. His love for
his daughter was as pure as he could give her.
Harry put the letter down and Severus noticed the boy’s shoulders were slouched. “Harry?”
Hermione asked tentatively, reaching for him. He grasped her hand and easily their fingers
intertwined.
“I'm thankful for her letter,” He said and Severus watched as the boy pressed his index finger
on the corner of his eye beneath the glasses, “I'm happy to have something of her and to
know what I know now, but…” His voice cracked, “I wished she had a letter for me
somewhere as well.”
Maybe it was the tone in his voice, or the way his entire posture looked defeated, or how
sadness sounded so familiar in his bones, whatever it was, it clutched at Severus’ insides and
made him place a hand on the boy’s shoulder.
The boy looked up, those green eyes an ocean of sadness. Severus didn’t know how to
comfort him, he didn’t have anything that could offer solace, but he knew one thing: Lily
Evans would never leave any of her kids without saying goodbye to them. He squeezed the
boy’s shoulder and told him, “If there’s one, we will find it.”
Harry nodded and again, the same weird glimpse of something passed on his face. Since the
start of their Occlumency lessons, he had stopped looking inside the boy’s mind without
letting him know beforehand, so he didn’t know what Harry was thinking, but the boy held
Severus’ eyes when he replied, “Thank you.”
And for the first time in fifteen years, I should have grabbed both of them, he thought.
“I think—” Hermione began, “I think Remus and Sirius should see this. She was their friend,
right? Mary. They would like to know she’s alive and—” She stopped briefly to squeeze the
hand she was still holding. “I think it will mean a lot to Sirius to know that James knew.”
Severus nodded and offered to show it to them, he needed to talk to the pair anyway. And
Narcissa. Merlin help him.
The bell rang indicating that their short break had ended and Severus told them to leave, he
promised to return the letter and tell the pair about whatever they managed to discuss before
any murder attempts took place.
Hermione gave him a small smile and with blushing cheeks said, “Bye, dad.” This time she
didn’t run from the word and Severus’ breath caught. The nagging part of his brain, the one
that insisted that he didn’t deserve anything happy, had been trying to convince him that she
was only opening up to him because she knew he was desperate and therefore was being nice
to him.
But the softness in her tone and the careful smile she gave him made it easier to believe that
she wanted it too. Merlin, he’d take all of the Cruciatus so he could deserve that. Finally, he
managed to say it back.
“Bye, my dear daughter,” he told her and it left his chest with the weight of a thousand rocks.
She smiled and turned to leave.
Harry stayed behind, both because he hadn’t packed his stuff and because he didn’t share
Hermione’s eagerness for classes.
Severus caught the look on Harry’s face and even if he didn’t have Occlumency he would
have known what was in the boy’s mind. It wasn’t jealousy per se, because the boy was
actively working around that, but there was resentment in the knowledge that his sister had
someone to call dad while he didn’t.
The truth was, the lingering pain inside his chest didn’t let him forget that Lily had died for
those kids. And if Voldemort hadn’t killed her, that entire feud between the siblings would
have. Severus knew that whatever he hoped to achieve with Hermione, Harry was going to be
right behind. Hermione hurt terribly during the summer, he wouldn’t allow it to happen
again. He could be the bigger person, even if was so he could get one against Black because
Merlin, did he hate Black. He hated how childish and reckless he could be, he hated that
Azkaban had broken something in the man, that he could not see what this boy in front of
him right now so desperately wanted. How could Sirius Black not see it? That the boy didn’t
want to learn how to ride a magical motorcycle, or how to fix portraits to shout offending
things?
Harry wanted someone that he could trust with the weight on his shoulders.
Merlin, most of the time Sirius couldn’t see his own godson. It was only the omnipresent
ghost of James Potter. Severus knew it wasn’t his fight to pick, knew that even voicing his
opinion would grant him another punch in the face, but a part of Severus - the one that had
grown soft, the one that cared for the boy - wanted Remus and Black to work it out so Black
would leave Grimmauld Place for good. The house was torture to Black just as a return to
Azkaban would be. Maybe worse, because Grimmauld Place had the portrait of his deranged
mother yelling at him.
“Harry,” He called and he felt his throat closing in immediately.
The boy turned to look at him, there was a bit of embarrassment on his expression as if he
knew Severus had figured him out. James Potter had never been embarrassed. “It’s no secret
that I hated your father, that his good qualities pass by me like a firebolt. It’s less than a secret
still that for years I saw only him when I looked at you.” He told him and with a small smirk,
added, “My hated was misplaced and now I see you for you, if I still hate you, that’s all on
you.”
Harry snorted and gave a small nod. “I don’t think you hate me anymore,” Harry replied, his
voice honest, “and thank you.”
Severus nodded. “I can start to not dislike you for you, not just for Hermione.” This time
Harry’s smile was bigger and the sadness in his eyes slowly began to dim. He took a deep
sigh before continuing, “I’m sorry it’s not the family that you wanted.” He told the boy, “but
she’s the family I want and I need to make it work. And you are her brother—” his throat
constricted, but he forced the words out, “which means opening the door for you too.”
Harry looked down at his feet and nodded quickly, he muttered “Thank you, Professor,”
before turning to leave.
Severus had a flashback to that day in front of the Fat Lady’s portrait.
Show me that you’ve changed Sev, prove it to me
Lily, I’m taking him too this time. He thought, I’m not leaving him behind
Chapter End Notes
There are a few things I'd like to say, first, it never sat right with me that neither James
nor Lily left Harry anything, not a single letter.
Secondly, I know it's not everyone's cup of tea but just a reminder (it's in the tags) that
this will be slightly severitus. He will step up.
Thirdly, most of you expressed interest in having some extra of sorts, so I will work on
them as well.
I think this is one of the last chapters before we fully separate from canon, I know where
I want to go and I have a sketch of the following years, but I still have no idea how long
this will be.
Lastly, I've got my old account on Twitter again, so if anyone is interested it's
moonyhoax
The title of the chapter and the quote at the beginning belong to Just a Man by Jorge
Rivera-Herrans as I am OBSESSED
Love is not an easy thing to admit
Chapter Notes
Hello!
Thank you all so much for the lovely lovely things everyone said about the last chapter,
I really appreciate it!
This one is quite light, I guess they deserve a bit of a break.
I keep you safe from me

And, oh my love, I lied to you
But I never needed to
Oh my love, I lied to you
But you always knew the truth
Chapter Fifty-One
It took Severus almost a week to get everyone together. It was risky having the meeting in his
office, but riskier still to inform Dumbledore that he needed to leave the castle on the
weekend without giving the Headmaster the true reason behind it. Especially when Umbridge
was being extremely nosy in everyone’s affairs.
So as it was, one minute to the scheduled time, he waited for the Floo to come alive. Remus
and Black came first, and while he and Remus exchanged a polite greeting, he and Black
managed to stay quiet. Narcissa came right after and to everyone’s surprise and Severus’
abysmal dismay, Lucius followed her.
“What on earth is this Death Eater doing here?” Black barked, his wand already pointed at
Lucius. Deja-vu fell upon him, for Remus had said exactly the same thing one year ago.
Lucius smiled unbothered by the wand on his chest. Severus sighed, “I hate to even think
along the same lines as Black, but I have to repeat the feeling. What are you doing here
Lucius?”
“Cissy told me you were discussing something that concerned Hermione,” he said pleasantly,
moving his cane from one hand to the other, “I had to come.”
Black scowled, “Because suddenly you care?”
Something quick flashed in Lucius’ steel grey eyes and his expression grew pinched.
“Suddenly? Why is it so hard to believe that I care for her?” He asked. Severus met Lucius
Malfoy on the very first train ride to Hogwarts, he knew the many faces the man wore and he
knew at once that the smirk Lucius gave Black was a forced one. Severus knew Narcissa
loved Hermione and that Hermione felt the same towards Narcissa, but he had never gotten
the same clarity between Lucius and Hermione. Merlin, the pair had done business together,
he knew from Narcissa that Hermione more often than not threw all of Lucius’ crimes on his
face and he let her, and—“She calls me uncle, did you know that?” that.
Remus all but advanced on Lucius, pushing away Black’s wand and getting up against
Lucius’ face. He snarled, “you threw her out of the Manor on nothing but pyjamas pants,”
Lucius’ eyes widened slightly, for all of his farce, Lucius was a scared man and Remus Lupin
the werewolf, did scare him. “You treated her like one of your business deals and you dare to
say that? You don’t deserve it.”
“Get your muzzle away from my face, wolf” Lucius hissed and Severus saw that Lucius’
wand had left the cane and was now pressed against Lupin’s ribcage.
Black had moved and had his wand pointed at Lucius’ forehead.
Narcissa sat down in one of Severus’ chairs with a sigh, seemingly done with the men's
antics.
Remus whispered something to Lucius that Severus couldn’t catch, but that seemed to have
rankled him, because he threw Remus off by force, his eyes glinting when he hissed back, “I
saved her life.” And to drive the point home, he pushed Remus back with the end of his cane,
which Remus batted away with his hand. “He’s there. Five rooms down from where her
bedroom was,” Severus stole a glance towards Narcissa, Hermione’s room was next to
Draco’s, which meant Voldemort was far too close to the boy. Narcissa’s jaw was clenched
and she refused to meet his eyes. “The Dark Lord is not aware Harry Potter’s sister had a
room of her own at the Manor, he’s not aware that Cissy is her godmother and can Apparate
to whenever Hermione is or that Hermione calls me uncle, and he’s definitely not aware that
my son has been in love with the girl for as long as he set eyes on her—”
“So far I see only how kicking her out saved your ass,” Remus retorted.
“He’s not interested in killing her, she’s merely a stone on his—well, he’s not exactly wearing
shoes anymore,” Lucius said with distaste as if Voldemort’s biggest crime was his new
fashion choices. “Salazar only knows how Severus managed to spin that one, but the Dark
Lord knows that Hermione doesn’t have the same protections Potter has, should he be aware
that any of us could bring Hermione to him easily, how fast do you think he would use her to
get to Potter?” He asked and Severus’ body grew cold.
Allowing Hermione to publicly grow close to the Malfoys had been an immense
miscalculation on their part.
“We claimed a fallout,” Narcissa spoke at last, most likely guessing Severus' line of thought.
“The Dark Lord was aware that Hermione had been to the Manor, thanks to Thadeus Goyle
and Nicodemus Crabbe and to that bloody picture on the Prophet with the four of us at the
World Cup. We were questioned,” she told them. And looking at Severus, added, “He wanted
to know if we were aware of who she really was. Lucius told him the same thing he told
Thadeus and Nicodemus two years ago. We told him that despite our efforts she was too
devoted to her brother to be of any use to us,” Narcissa shuddered and Lucius looked at her
with pain in his eyes. Severus was at once painfully aware of how that conversation had
taken place. “We told him she left after the ruse last summer, that Lucius kicked her out then
after she insulted the Dark Lord.”
“He expressed his disappointment that I merely threw her out,” Lucius added with a scowl, “I
told him I could not be of use to him had I disposed of the girl. She might not have
Dumbledore’s protection, but he wouldn't let me get away with it.”
“So Hermione’s safety relies on you, my cousin and my little cousin keeping quiet?” Black
asked.
Narcissa shuddered, “Please refrain from using family terms to talk about me or my son, it
upsets my stomach.” She said.
Lucius smiled at his wife’s comment and Severus remembered that soon enough they would
have yet another family member in their mix. Which was what they should be discussing.
“We can agree that we will never trust one another,” he began, receiving nods from all
around, “but we are working together and there are things we must discuss.”
“Severus is right,” Remus agreed, “we wasted enough time as it is.”
And because it wasn’t Remus’ first time, he moved around to the cabinet where he knew
Severus kept his bottle. Black watched it all with a furrow. Remus poured himself some,
offered the bottle to Lucius and as if they hadn’t been at each other’s throats moments before,
Lucius said “No ice.”
Severus removed the letters from his pocket. He had reread Lily’s letter so many times over
the course of the days that he could already recall the contents by heart. “Mary McDonald is
alive.” He told them and gave the letter to Remus. “She wrote Hermione and had—she had a
letter from Lily as well. Potter knew he wasn’t Hermione’s father.”
Black’s eyes widened in surprise and he leaned closer to read over Remus’ shoulder, his hand
reaching for the letter the wolf was holding. The Malfoys looked at him quietly and he
refused to give them anything. He watched Remus instead, who grew taller as he read. He
didn’t seem too bothered by Lily’s letter, no, his problem was clearly with Mary’s letter. She
had called Remus the strongest of them all, but Severus had been witness to how the man was
actually the loneliest of them all.
“Have you informed Dumbledore of this?” Narcissa asked.
“No. He would ask to see the letter and it says that I knew all along.”
Remus and Black looked at one another after reading the letters, Severus didn’t know where
they stood, if they had completely gone over their differences or not, but he did know they
would have a long conversation over this later. Once more, the ghost of James Potter would
make itself present in the living.
Folding the letter and handing it back to Severus, Remus sighed. “Hermione has started an
army,” Remus told them. Severus’ eyebrows met his hairline, Lucius smiled something
weirdly akin to pride and Narcissa downed the liquid Remus had just poured her.
“It's a study group.” Black corrected.
Remus snorted, “If it had five students, then yeah, but she has thirty-five people practising
jinxes and hexes somewhere around the castle. It is not a study group.”
“Did you know about this?” Narcissa asked him.
“I was aware of a group yes, because Umbridge suddenly prohibited them, but not of its…
size.”
“She came to us asking if we knew where they could practise, since I haven’t heard it back
from her nor has she been expelled, I assume they found a place.” Severus would have to see
to that immediately. The last thing he needed now was Hermione being caught training other
students.
“She has played exactly on what the Ministry fears,” Lucius said in amusement. “They are
about to set stronger measures upon Hogwarts, Fudge truly believes Dumbledore wants to
overthrow him.”
Black scowled, “Dumbledore is too busy making people do rounds.”
“At the Department of Mysteries, I presume?” Lucius asked with a smirk.
“About that,” Severus said, “Harry knows Voldemort is looking for something and how he’s
feeling about his search.” He told them. “Harry has felt pain in his scar two times so far in the
school year, besides a third during the summer.”
“Another?” Black asked.
Severus continued, ignoring Black for the moment. ”It’s not only pain he gets, but it’s also
glimpses of Voldemort's emotions and knowledge of what was at the forefront of his mind at
the moment.”
“He only told me of when Umbridge touched him. Has there been another?” Black asked
again.
“Yes, at the beginning of October. He said Voldemort was furious about something. The one
with Umbridge, he said Voldemort was pleased.”
“When was the last one?” Lucius asked, head tilted to the side in curiosity.
“Eighth of October,” Severus replied.
“He was furious,” Lucius said and drank from his glass. “Yaxley and Sewlyn failed to
retrieve the Prophecy and he discovered that only those to whom the Prophecy speaks about
can retrieve it.”
“So he will have to go himself,” Remus concluded.
“He won’t.” Lucius said, “To go is to risk being discovered. He doesn’t want to reveal his
return yet. It’s easier to act when no one believes you are alive and the ministry is so busy
defaming Dumbledore and the boy.”
“But he’s obsessed with it,” Black argued.
“Who else do you think can retrieve the Prophecy?” Lucius asked. He was sitting in one of
Severus’ armchair as if it was his throne. His long legs crossed while he held the almost
empty glass resting against his knee.
“Harry.” Remus guessed.
Severus cursed. “We can assume that certainly, Dumbledore knows this,” he began. “This
means he is using the Prophecy as bait to stop Voldemort by guarding it with the Order. Or at
least he wants to expose Voldemort to the Ministry.”
“He was the one to hear the Prophecy, wasn’t he?” Narcissa asked, he only nodded. “You
heard the beginning of it, but he heard everything. He’s the only one who knows what the
Dark Lord is missing. He knows whether it is really important or not. If it is indeed really
important, why hasn't he destroyed it?” She asked and no one replied, they knew it was a
rhetorical question. “Harry was at the Ministry this summer for his audience. Why didn’t he
make a stop at Level Nine?”
“Unless—” Black began, “Unless Dumbledore’s doing it on purpose.” He leaned forward on

his chair, resting his elbows on his thighs and his chin on his joined hands. “Harry escaped
Voldemort again—”
“He blocked the Killing Curse with an Expelliarmus.” Lucius prompted and for a moment it
was like the room had forgotten that Lucius had actually been there.
Black blinked and Remus placed a hand on the man’s shoulder in warning? Comfort?
Restraint? Severus didn’t know, but it wasn’t hard to guess what was going on through
Black’s mind. Harry had been tortured that night. And Lucius had watched.
“He escaped,” Black continued after a moment, recomposing himself, “and we know the
ritual to restore his body was millimetrically orchestrated to void Lily’s protection, maybe
even the prophecy.”
“I can touch you now," Remus said. “Harry told us that’s what Voldemort said to him.”
“Yes, so since that didn’t work, he must believe he’s missing something. The rest of the
prophecy. And Dumbledore, by putting the Order to guard it, played into it, confirming
Voldemort’s beliefs regardless if they are true or not.”
“And each day he fails, he gets more obsessed with it,” Lucius pointed out.
“Which only prevents him from doing anything else.” Remus commented and turned to
Severus, “You told us he planned to break the other Death Eaters from Azkaban, there has
been no movement towards that.”
“Because it’s already set.” Lucius told them, “He knows when and how he’s breaking them
out. Potter told you the Dark Lord was pleased with something?” He raised his glass
theatrically, “There you have it.”
“Feel free to elaborate,” Remus said.
“What? Severus here is the spy to the Order.” Lucius said with a smirk, “And besides, I don’t
have the information.”
“You are his Second-in-Command,” Remus argued.
“And he’s much more paranoid than he was the first time around,” Lucius retorted. “I was
privy enough to know the break out is happening soon, he shared no more.”
“If all of them escape…” Black began, "He not only has more marked Death Eaters on his
side but he has some pretty deranged ones.” He ran a hand through his hair, “He’s quiet now
because the ones who avoided Azkaban are the military intelligence, the ones there…”
“Are the brutal force,” Narcissa concluded. Her sister. Dolohov. Mulciber. The Lestrange
brothers.
"I heard them." Sirius said, his voice quiet, "All those years, I could hear them."
“The Dark Lord is working through the Ministry, per my recommendation,” Lucius said,
“Fudge is weak and paranoid, he has full control of the Daily Prophet and is using it to spurn
Dumbledore and the boy. And that particularly lovely piece on Hermione. Every department
is open for the taking. And I’m buying them one at a time.”
Black scowled in contempt and Remus merely shook his head. If Voldemort acted as he did
fifteen years ago, straight to violence and death, the Light didn’t stand a chance. The Order
didn't have enough men and with the Auror office under Fudge’s control, there would be too
many fronts for the dozen men under Dumbledore’s orders. And the pair of Gryffindors knew
that. They remembered from the last time, the number of skirmishes they had to go to and
how short-handed they went.
Lucius, in his very Lucius Malfoy way of doing things, was giving a breather to the Light
while strengthening Voldemort’s power. Oh, but Severus knew that Lucius’ chosen method
was entirely self-centred: if there were no skirmishes, there were no casualties and therefore
no need for recruitment. By the pained expression on Narcissa’s face and Voldemort’s choice
of room in the Manor, they knew that the moment people started dying, Draco would be
called to serve.
“So what do we have?” Remus asked, “A prophecy that might not be important at all and is
only serving as a distraction, weeks or months before hell breaks lose - quite literally -, a
crumbling Ministry Of Magic… what else?”
“An army of thirty-five underage students,” Lucius prompted with a smile. Severus poured
himself some fire whiskey. “She is quite something, truly, I am incredibly fond of her—”
“Lucius.” Narcissa chided.
“Umbridge is torturing students and put Hermione under the Imperius curse five days into the
term,” Severus told them and waited.
“What?” Remus asked.
“And she’s breathing still why?” That was Narcissa.
Severus told them what happened, how both Hermione and Harry had been subjected to that
godforsaken quill. Black cursed and paced, threatened to barge her office and only remained
in place because Remus was holding him. He was shaking and his eyes were as Black as his
last name. His magic cracked Severus was acutely reminded of how volatile the Black
Family's magic was. How sometimes it flowed as if it were alive. He knew how much magic
the house at Grimmauld Place housed, how the spells flew easier and the potions burbled
stronger there, but he also knew how twisted, dangerous and finicky it was. And Black, after
spending over a decade away from it, was probably feeling it all tenfold, his own particular
blood-acute Dementor hell. He chanced a look towards Narcissa and saw her hands shaking,
Lucius moved the bottle away from her before she decided to throw it around.
“If you are so fond of Hermione as you say,” Severus hissed to Lucius, “you will do
something about that woman before I can kill her.”
His steel eyes were hard when he replied, “Consider it done.”
Convincing Dobby to help with the portrait had been so easy that Hermione felt slightly bad
for using the elf like that. But since she was incredibly busy, she didn’t have time to worry
too much about that. Right now, she was deep in her readings, trying to understand the
Geminio spell and how to create a connection between all of the coins. They had had three
meetings so far and each time was harder to track everyone to inform them of the following
meeting.
“Hey,” Draco said, opening and closing the door behind him quickly. He walked up to her
and sat down next to her.
“Hey yourself.” She replied and smiled when he leaned in to kiss her neck and make a trail of
kisses to her lips. Hermione placed a hand on his cheek and rubbed a thumb on his smooth
skin, “I missed you.”
“I missed you too.” He replied and kissed her palm.
“I need your help.” She told him, pushing the books towards him and explaining her idea.
“—so when you gave me this I figured you might have some idea on how to link them.” She
pointed to the bracelet he had given her.
“I understand the magic behind it,” he told her and with a blush added, “I didn’t cast the
spell, this is Old Family magic, a way for the Head of the House to communicate with his
wife when he was away.” He ran a thumb over her bracelet and she watched, with her
thumping heart as a soundtrack, as he abstractedly traced the path of her vein up to her ring
finger and then down again. “You can’t cast it on a simple object that has no meaning. The
connection is not on the bracelet and ring per se, but the bearers.”
“Oh,” she said and smiled, “are they connected because of how I feel about you?” she asked.
Draco grinned and shook his head, “probably because of how I feel about you.”
He had gotten even sweeter after her birthday and even now, Hermione could feel the ghost
of his hands and lips on her skin. The moments when they allowed their eyes to meet in class
or in the common room left her wishing she could get lost in him again and again.
Draco pushed the books aside and pulled her to his lap, as conversations were easier to have
in someone’s lap. He wrapped his arms around her and she leaned back on his chest. “What
about Protean Charms?” He asked, his lips against her ear, because what if she didn’t hear
him?
“What?” See? Hearing problems.
“It’s—” he hesitated, “similar to what the Death Eaters have. You touch one mark and all the
others feel it. They know where to go because the mark is on their skin.” Draco explained.
“Of course, he twisted the spell to his liking, but the original one is that you have one object
as the original and every time you change it, the others connected to it burn up and change as
well.”
“Oh,” she said and leaned forward to find in one of her books some information on the
Protean Charm. Quickly, she found a passage and read it out loud. “We can do this.” She said.
“My original idea was to change the last numbers on the coin to the time and date of our next
meeting, so it’s easily hidden.”
“It's brilliant.” He told her, “you are brilliant.”
Hermione felt goosebumps at the back of her neck and tried to fight the shiver, but was
unsuccessful.
Together, they worked on the charm and after hours of failed connections and scattered
objects, they finally managed to link two buttons. “Draco! We did it!” She said with a grin
and jumped on him, landing a kiss on his lips, he caught her by the waist and smiled against
her lips.
“I told you you are brilliant.”
She smiled and pecked him once more before detangling herself, “so now we just have to
double this Sickle and we are set.”
“Hm,” he murmured and the hand that was still on her waist moved to underneath her shirt,
“Can I suggest something?” He asked as his fingers trailed the skin there.
“Uh-um” she replied, extremely aware of every inch his fingers touched.
“A doubling charm tarnishes easily and a Knut is too common, someone could easily spend it
by mistake and it would be a hassle to have to examine every Knut in one’s wallet to know
which is the charmed one.”
Hermione pouted and Draco’s eyes zeroed on her lips. “But it’s the only thing that wouldn’t
draw attention were Umbridge to ask us to empty our pockets. If all of us take to carrying a
button that will be too weird.”
“I agree. The coins are perfect, I just meant you should use another one.” He told her, “A
galleon.”
Hermione gasped. “I don’t have thirty-five Galleons lying around to distribute.”
Draco smirked, the one smirk that never failed to remind her what was his surname. “It
happens that I do.”
“Draco—”
“Hermione,” he stopped her complaint before she could begin. “I do have it lying around,
you know it’s nothing for me.”
She knew that. Merlin, she even knew that she could afford that little trick if she wanted to,
but since she still didn’t know whether she would be the one footing the bill for her schooling
from now on, she would have to be careful with money.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Anytime.”
In the end, Hermione was glad to repay with a currency she was getting really good at.
Their next scheduled meeting was two days away and Hermione was enjoying her free period
with Theo in the courtyard. The weather was still nice despite them being in the middle of
October. Everyone else was at Divination and every time Hermione remembered that she was
free of it, it brought a smile to her face.
Theo’s back was against the fountain stone, and Hermione’s back was against his. He was
warm and the early autumn sun was shining weakly above them. Their legs were outstretched
in front of them, her feet reaching his calf.
“I feel like time is moving faster than before,” she told him. “The first quidditch match of the
season is this Saturday and I didn’t even notice September pass.”
“I know what you mean,” he agreed. “Are you going to be watching us?”
“Of course.”
“And cheering for us? Not for your brother?”
Hermione grinned, “With the line-up Slytherin has? Of course, I’m cheering for us.”
“Good.” He replied and snaked his arms around her middle, hugging her. Hermione patted
his hands and let her hands rest on top of his.
“This is nice,” she told him. “I’m being pulled in so many directions this year, right now it
feels like I’m finally able to catch a breath.”
“You always do too much.” He sighed. “Hermione, you know I love you, right?”
“Yes, and I you.” She replied at once.
“And that I trust you with my life?”
“Theo—” She began, slightly confused with his tone.
“You know that, don’t you?” He asked again and she nodded.
“I trust you too. With my life.” She told him.
“So why are you keeping things from me?” He asked her and Hermione tensed. “What
happened that made you feel like you can’t tell me things anymore?”
“Nothing, it’s not—”
“I have a game.” He said, cutting her off. “At any time, one can ask the other, ‘How many?’
And then together, we show a number with our fingers. For example, if you ask me and I
show you two fingers, it means I am keeping two secrets from you, and if in turn, you
showed me only one, it means that you have just one secret.” She nodded, showing that she
understood. “And because I have two against one of yours, I have to tell you a secret, so we
then have the same amount of secrets. What do you say?”
“I get to pick the secret I tell?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” Hermione agreed. “We show our numbers at the same time?”
“Yes.” Theo nodded and made a fist in front of her, Hermione copied him. It looked like they
were about to play Rock-Paper Scissors. “On three. How many? Three,”
“Two,”
“One.” They counted together.

Hermione showed him four fingers and Theo showed her three.
Merlin. She felt her throat closing and her eyes brimming with tears. Theo had been right,
when had they started to keep things from one another? He squeezed her and he seemed as
shocked as she was about the revelation. She thought the game was because he knew she was
keeping something from him, but not that he was keeping things from her. Theo was an odd
figure, he could pick a fight with Moody and see two of the most vicious Death Eaters and
spit at their faces, but he needed to hide behind a game to tell her he was keeping things from
her.
“Tell me a secret Hermione.” He asked, the side of his head touching hers.
“I called him dad twice now.” She confessed. “The first time it slipped and I startled both of
us, the second time… I really wanted to and he called me his dear daughter.”
“Thank you for telling me.” He squeezed her again and she dropped her head back on his
shoulder. He dropped a kiss to the side of her head. “I figured that would happen sooner or
later. You have been calling him ‘father' since the beginning of the term.”
“Yeah, it wasn’t weird, but I still don’t know what to expect like, do I have to ask him
permission for things now? Is he going to financially support me? Does he get Christmas and
my muggle parents New Year's? He has a room for me at his place, should I go there for the
summer?”
“I'm the worst person to give you advice on fathers—”
“Oh Merlin, I’m so sorry, I—”
“Chill, Granger.” He laughed at her despair, “I only meant that I don’t know what to expect
either, but Professor Snape seems willing to move at your pace and maybe you can talk about
it one step at a time.”
“Yeah, you are right.”
“Remus expects us at his place for Christmas. You can start with that. Ask Professor Snape
when the time comes.”
She nodded and after a moment squeezed him back.
Three more secrets.
Hermione had picked the easiest one, the one that she didn’t even consider a secret because
she didn’t feel like she was ready for the others. How hard would it be to tell him that
Umbridge tortured and put her under the Imperius? Or to confess that she’d been lying to all
of them and she and Draco were still very much together? And why had she decided to keep
the entire Regulus mystery to herself?
And what was Theo keeping from her? Three secrets.

They stayed in silence for the rest of their break and once the bell rang, they went to their
next class side by side.
Draco was already there when they arrived and the glare to which he turned on Theo the
moment they arrived was alarming. The boys were in a sort of Cold War, where no one spoke
to no one and fights were avoided. Hermione wondered if Theo and Draco had somehow
disturbed that peace and gotten into an argument prior to their class. Maybe that was one of
Theo’s secrets?
Well, if she wanted to know, she’d have to wait for when Theo got himself another secret.
The rest of the day Hermione noticed Draco’s glaring and even sent him a message asking if
he was all right, to which he ignored her. Someone was moody, that was obvious. Hermione
sighed.
She caught up to Pansy and Daphne, crossing the Great Hall doors with them.
“Hermione,” Harry called, appearing out of nowhere and grabbing her arm, tugging her to
him. She turned to complain but found that his green eyes were wide in panic.
“What happened?” She asked, letting herself be pulled away by him.
He pushed her inside a broom cupboard and followed her inside. It was uncomfortably tight.
“Look at what I found.” He said and pulled a book from his backpack. Not a book, again
Regulus diary. Dobby needed to speed up things.
He trusted her the diary, where an entry from June 24th, 1977 faced her.
“1977? His sixth year?” She asked and Harry nodded.
“The end of it.”
“Already?"
"But I skipped some, I grabbed a bunch at random, and there are a bunch more that I missed.
I will get it from Grimmauld Place when I go there for Christmas, but read it.” She told her
and pressed the journal in her hands.
I went to Dumbledore.
Mother’s letters were more auspicious by the day, her giddy tone, her sudden words of
affirmation and her faith in me to do the right thing can only mean one thing. And I’m afraid
it’s completely on the other side of the spectrum of the right thing. I know what she wants
from me and I am terrified of saying no, but I can’t possibly say yes.
I wish I had someone to run to. A James. The James. My James. But instead, I have Barty
who’s eager, Evan who’s excited and Severus who’s determined.
Pandora and Dorcas have turned their backs on us. I wish I could turn my back on us as
well. But Sirius did it already and don't think I will survive Mother and Father if I did the
same.
But I told Dumbledore. And he closed his door on me. I asked him to allow me to stay in the
castle this summer because I’m terrified of coming back next semester branded, but he told
he can’t allow that. Every student must go home for the summer. I told him Bellatrix got the
mark, that Andromeda ran away and Narcissa only escaped because Lucius promised he
would serve for both of them.
Sirius already ran, mother won’t let me out of her sight once I set foot at Grimmauld Place.
Dumbledore told me that he doubts my mother really means what I think she means. I’m only
sixteen, he says. Why would Voldemort want a boy still in school? Well, Headmaster, why do
you need a boy who pats his books appreciatively before and after reading them to deal with
the werewolves? I answer you Headmaster: because it’s easier to control soldiers whom you
have raised into your ranks.
We take the train tomorrow. I can see them across from me in the courtyard, happy with the
upcoming summer. Sirius’ laugh carries and it makes me want to cry. James is the sun but it’s
Remus who burns at the sound of it.
I told Dumbledore. I wish I could tell Sirius, I wish I could say: brother, I asked for help like
you told me to. But I won’t, because now that I know firsthand what it's like to walk along the
sun ray that is James, I would never cast a shadow on his life like this.
I told Dumbledore and he told me he can’t help me. And well, if he can’t, who can?
Hermione read it and felt her eyes burning. “He never wanted it in the first place.”
“No,” Harry said. “Hermione, he asked Dumbledore’s help and Dumbledore said no.”
There it was. The aversion, the disbelief and the anger. Hermione wished he had seen it
regarding Dumbledore’s treatment towards himself but she wasn’t going to complain that it
took a dead man to make Harry realise Dumbledore wasn’t as good as he painted himself to
be.
“Harry,” she began carefully, “Dumbledore—”
“You know what he told me after the Chamber? When the Sword of Gryffindor appeared to
me? That help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who deserve it.” He said with a
scowl, “Now it sounds like a load of bullshit! What? So Regulus didn’t deserve it? Because
his family was evil he didn’t deserve to be anything else? Was it because he was a Slytherin”
His anger had returned and Hermione thought she saw a flash of red in his eyes, there, right
in the corner. No, it wasn't because he was a Slytherin. Dumbledore had said no to a sixteen-
year-old Regulus but took in and pardoned a marked twenty-one year old Severus. “Harry,”
she tried again, because she knew why, “Dumbledore only helps the ones whom he can get
something from. He personally invited Remus to Hogwarts and sent him on missions with the
werewolves. And by how Regulus wrote, it seems those missions began even before Remus
finished Hogwarts!”
Harry nodded and added, “He left Sirius in Azkaban.” Again, his green eyes hardened, "he
only helped mum because it gave him a spy."
“He thought he couldn’t make a spy out of Regulus so he didn’t bother.”
“I don't know what to do,” Harry murmured. “I know you don’t trust Dumbledore and that I
shouldn’t, but—”
“He’s still our biggest chance of fighting Voldemort.” She said, agreeing with what she knew
he was going to say. “We play their game,” Hermione said and with a long sigh, added “The
ones in the middle.”
“Severus, Remus, Sirius and Narcissa,” Harry repeated.
“Yes.” Hermione nodded and grabbed his hand, “they will make an Order member out of
you, but not me. Not Theo or Blaise.”
“Shit. It could have been Theo.” Harry said and Hermione’s face turned ashen. It could be
Draco. Harry continued, unaware of Hermione’s hammering heart and newfound panic, “If
Remus hadn’t gotten Theo out the way he did, it would have been him.”
“Yeah,” Hermione muttered in agreement, but now her mind was miles away. How would
they get Draco out?
That night, Hermione couldn’t sleep, suddenly anxious about the upcoming D.A. meeting and
the group's reaction to her coins. Another thing on her mind was Dobby, who had yet to
return from wherever he had gone to search for what Hermione had asked. What if she had
been wrong? What if Regulus didn’t have a portrait and she had wasted her and Dobby’s
time? Why did that feel suddenly important?
Kicking her sheets to the side, she decided to go to the Common Room, if she wasn’t going
to sleep, she could at least get some reading done.
Apparently, she hadn’t been the only one unable to sleep. She was halfway down the corridor
when she heard voices. Another step got Hermione hiding in a corner. She knew those voices.
“Tell me, Theo,” she froze at once, she knew exactly what that tone meant. Draco was about
to be nasty. “You are still dating Blaise, aren’t you?”
“You know I am.”
“So why do I hear you’ve been snuggling someone who’s not your boyfriend out there in the
courtyard?”
Theo laughed and it wasn’t a true laugh. “Oh man, this is golden.” He said, “Are you for real
right now?”
“Just asking a question.”
“No, you are being an asshole since the summer and now you are jealous because I was
snuggling your ex.”
Merlin, she wished she could see their faces.
“Shut up,” Draco snarled, “that has nothing to do with the point.”
“That’s literally the point.” Theo retorted.

“What do you think you are doing?” Draco asked and his voice was lower, but heavy with
jealousy. Was he really jealous of Theo? Or was this the culmination of something else?
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Theo replied.
Draco scoffed, Hermione didn’t need to see him know exactly what kind of expression he had
on his face. “You are already marked. People talk because of Blaise and they will talk
because of her. Do you really think you are untouchable?"
“You are back caring then?”
“I'm just warning you—”
“No,” Theo cut him off, “You are being unbearable. More than usual, by the way.”
Draco scowled. “You don’t know—”
“I do.” Theo snarled, “You are trying to pretend you don’t feel a thing about her.”
“Shut up Theo.”
“I’ve tried to do that, you know?” Theo said and his voice had gotten lower and Hermione
took another step to hear better. She could see them now. Theo was almost to Draco’s face.
They were both so tall and glaring at one another.
Merlin, she loved them so much. It broke her heart to see them fighting like that. Because of
her.
“I tried to Occlude everything, not only from my father but from myself as well. It doesn’t
work Draco, it’s going to break you.”
“I need to, Theo.” Draco snarled, but his voice was shaking a bit. “It’s my only option.”
“You don’t really think that, do you?” Theo asked, voice uncharacteristically soft,
Hermione’s heart clenched inside her chest.
“There's nothing else for me to think,” Draco replied. His voice cracked. Draco.
“You are a fool,” Theo said. “And you are going to destroy yourself. Draco, I know, I tried. I
learned Occlumency at twelve. Your mother decided to teach me when she realised I
probably knew too much and it would be a risk, not to mention the whole gay thing. I know
quite well how easy and tempting it is to just hide everything. Better yet, I know what it costs
people like us to hide her.” Theo said and Hermione’s heart twisted again. Twelve. Oh, Theo.
She always wondered why he learned Occlumency and now she wished she didn’t know. Was
this one of his secrets? “Last year, I tried to Occlude everything, I tried to occlude how I felt
about Blaise and how I desperately wanted her around. I was trying to hide so many things
from myself that I felt I was losing control of everything. This entire thing only matters when
you know what you feel.”
“I know what I feel.” Draco hissed.

“Yeah? That’s why you can’t even look at her? Draco, what happened that you decided to
throw us all away?”
He misses all of you so much, Hermione wanted to say.
“You don’t know what you are talking about.”
“You are my best friend, mate. I can’t watch you do that to yourself. You didn’t let me fuck
things up with Blaise last year. I won’t let you fuck things up with her. She doesn’t deserve
it.”
“It’s not the same—” he scowled. “She— it’s not—I—”
“Very eloquent, Draco. Wonderfully put.”
“Fuck you, Theo.”
“I do that already actually.” She heard from behind her and both Theo and Draco found her
hiding before they found Blaise.
How long had Blaise been standing there?
Draco had frozen at the sight of her.
“You—” Theo began and Blaise smirked, but he tangled his fingers in Theo’s.
“I heard quite a lot.” Blaise said, “but she got here first so she probably heard more.”
“Good. They can talk then,” Theo said, “let’s go back to bed.”
Theo pulled on Blaise’s hand and when the pair passed her, Theo said with a wink: “You
helped me.”
Draco stared at her and she too seemed stuck halfway hidden behind a bookcase. He looked
down and ran both hands through his hair. “Did you hear everything?” He asked, Hermione
only nodded.
“How often does this happen?”
“My bouts of jealousy or his streaks of protectiveness?”
“Both.”
“All the fucking time.” He said with a bitter laugh, Hermione’s breath caught.
“Draco—” She took a deep breath and walked up to him. “I love you.” She told him, taking
hold of his cheeks with both hands, “I love you so much.”
“Merlin, Hermione,” Draco sighed and tipped his head forward, their foreheads touching.
“I’m completely mad about you. I’ve loved you from the moment I chose you instead of my
father’s mask that day by the lake when we were twelve.” He told her and copied her hands,
holding her cheeks in his hands. “It drives me insane that people think I don’t belong with
you, that I have to wait for scrapes of your time.”
“Draco, we decided—”
“I know what we decided, but I hate it.”
“So we tell him,” Hermione said. “We tell them. Blaise, Pansy and Daphne. They are our best
friends and we need to stick together.”
Draco shook his head, “Too many people. They—”
“We need to trust them. I trust them. There’s no one I trust more than them. I can’t keep
watching all of our friends treat you the way they are treating you when you don’t deserve
it.”
He looked terrified. She ran her hands through his hair and he took a deep breath. Hermione
wondered what he wasn’t telling her, what the other boys were saying or even worse, what
his father was saying in all the letters Draco wasn’t replying to. “If he finds out about you—”
Draco stopped mid-sentence and the way he whispered ‘he’, Hermione knew it was not
Lucius he was talking about.
“He won’t,” Hermione replied, “We will keep it a secret."
Draco sighed, “We tell them."
Their fourth D.A. meeting went as smoothly as the others, even Zacharias Smith was
beginning to be less of an asshole. Hermione asked Harry to finish a couple of minutes earlier
so she could give them the coins and explain how they worked.
“You see the numerals around the edge of the coins?” Hermione asked, holding one up for
examination at the end of their fourth meeting. “On normal Galleons, that’s just a serial
number referring to the goblin who cast the coin. On these ones, though, the numbers will
change to reflect the time and date of the next meeting. The coins will grow hot when the
date changes, so if you’re carrying them in a pocket you’ll be able to feel them. We take one
each, and when Harry sets the date of the next meeting he’ll change the numbers on his coin,
and because I’ve put a Protean Charm on them, they’ll all change to mimic his.” A blank
silence greeted Hermione’s words. She looked around at all the faces upturned to her, rather
disconcerted. “Well — I thought it was a good idea,” she said uncertainly, “I mean, even if
Umbridge asked us to turn out our pockets, there’s nothing fishy about carrying a Galleon, is
there? But... Well, if you don’t want to use them…”
Blaise snorted, while Pansy shook her head amusedly. Theo was circling the Galleon from
finger to finger in a very nice trick, but his expression was closed off. Hermione didn’t
understand.
“You can do a Protean Charm?” Terry Boot asked.

“Yes,”
“But that’s… that’s N.E.W.T. standard, that is,” he said weakly.
“Oh,” Hermione felt her cheeks warming, and Blaise made his ‘here we go’ face. “Oh, well...
yes, I suppose it is.”
“How come you’re not in Ravenclaw?” he demanded, staring at Hermione with something
close to wonder. “With brains like yours?”
Pansy scowled and all the amusement vanished from Blaise’s face. “Are you calling us
dumb?” Pansy asked.
“Well, the Sorting Hat did seriously consider putting me in Ravenclaw during my Sorting—”
“She's exactly where she’s supposed to be,” Blaise stated.
“—but it decided on Slytherin in the end.” She finished looking at her friends warily.
“Anyway, I belong in Slytherin—”
“Damn right you do,” Blaise and Pansy echoed.
“—So does that mean we’re using the Galleons?” She asked quickly.
There was a murmur of assent and she resumed distributing the coins around. Harry looked
sideways at Hermione.
“I suppose the only danger with these is that we might accidentally spend them.” Harry joked
and some people laughed.
“Fat chance,” Ron murmured, he was examining his own Galleon with a slightly mournful
air. “I haven’t got any real Galleons to confuse it with.” He said and walked away, to where
his other roommates were.
Harry sighed, but quickly shrugged off, “You know what these remind me of?”
“No, what?”
“The spell on the Dark Mark. Voldemort touches one of them, and all their scars burn, and
they know they’ve got to join him.”
Hermione nodded “where do you think we got the idea?”
“We?”
“Draco,” she told him in a whisper. “He helped.” Hermione pulled up her sleeve and showed
him her bracelet. “He gave me this for my birthday, he has a matching ring. It’s how we talk
or schedule our time together.” She ran a finger over it with a small smile.
“What does he think of the group?”

“He's jealous.” She replied with a snort. “Tremendously so. He’s even getting jealous of Theo
with me.”
“Theo?” Harry asked, his eyebrows furrowed.
“Yeah, Theo and I were at the courtyard yesterday, quite cosy and apparently someone said
something to him. I caught the end of their fight. Theo says things on purpose to hurt him.”
“Why don’t you tell him? Or all the others. You know they will keep your secret.”
Tell me a secret, Hermione Theo’s voice echoed in her mind.
“I know, I think we might soon. It’s eating us being away from each other like this.”
“I can’t relate.” Harry joked.
“You know, he would be great at the D.A. He’s crazy good with spells. We used to duel a lot
during the summers, he has an endless supply of jinxes and curses.”
“You know there’s no way he could be part of this,” Harry told her, pointing at the group. It
was their fourth meeting and still, there was a great division between the Slytherins and the
rest of the houses.
“I know,” Hermione sighed.
The days before the first Quidditch Match of the year were relentless, with Pansy on the team
- and Ron Weasley becoming reserve Keeper - the number of insults in the corridors and
outright attempts of sabotage had Hermione glad that she wasn’t a Prefect. Her father
obviously wanted Slytherin to win and didn’t care his students were pulling all the cards,
sportsmanship be damned.
On the day before the match, Gryffindor’s Keeper ended up in the Hospital Wing due to a
severe case of diarrheas because of something he ingested that he had to be substituted last
minute. She knew it had been someone from her house, Pansy was so proud and sniggering at
the sight of any Gryffindor student that there was no way she hadn’t done something. But as
it turned out, whatever Madam Pomfrey found in her diagnosis pointed to a product from the
twins and McGonagall, as obsessed with Quidditch as Severus, decided to postpone their
detention until after the match.
Hermione and Daphne went to the stands on Saturday morning to find the entirety of the
Slytherin house, including the team, with crown-shaped badges with the words WEASLEY
IS OUR KING etched on them. First years were passing around a piece of parchment that
Hermione quickly realised were the lyrics of a song. She looked out at the field, where both
teams were standing at opposite ends and found that Draco and Pansy were in an agitated
conversation with included hand movements that were reminiscent of a conductor in an
orchestra. She had no idea what they were doing but as it looked, they were in complete
disagreement.
Once the players were up in the air, Pansy flew to where Daphne was and made some sort of
sign. Daphne nodded and yelled, “On three!”
"Weasley cannot save a thing,

He cannot block a single ring,
That’s why Slytherins all sing:
Weasley is our King.
Weasley was born in a bin,
He always lets the Quaffle in,
Weasley will make sure we win,
Weasley is our King.”
They were all singing and Hermione was equally parts horrified and astonished that they had
composed a song and were belting it out in perfect rhythm without her knowing that this was
even in the making.
Lee Jordan was commenting even louder, trying to drown the singing, but Hermione who was
surrounded by Slytherins and could only hear the song was certain he wasn’t being
successful.
“Weasley is our King,

Weasley is our King,
He always lets the Quaffle in,
Weasley is our King.”
Just as Pansy was flying with the Quaffle towards the Gryffindor goal, Harry shot after her,
either to try to stop her or help his friend, Hermione didn’t know, but the chorus was hitting
and she could see Ron trembling and as expected, moments later the Slytherin crowd was
cheering. Pansy had scored.
And she had a choreography.
And so did Draco.
So that was what they were arguing.
Hermione was gobsmacked that Pansy had put her riff with Draco aside for that.
But Pansy Parkinson was skilled in more than just lyrics, composition and choreography. She
was a terrific player. The team work between her, Adrien Pucey and Warrington was
beautiful to watch and Hermione’s eyes couldn’t keep up with the back and forth of the
Quaffle.
Soon enough, Slytherin was leading forty-ten and even her father was mouthing the lyrics of
the song. Daphne squealed next to Hermione, grabbing and pulling on her arm, pointing at
where Draco was. He had dived and in a matter of seconds, Harry followed. Draco was
streaking out of the sky on Harry’s left, a green-and-silver blur lying flat on his broom. She
couldn’t see the Snitch, but assumed it was near the Slytherin goal posts, as it seemed to be
where they were headed. Harry and Draco circled the foot of one of the goal posts, raising
sand and disappearing from view for a moment before shooting up toward the other side of
the stands. Draco was a tad ahead and then neck to neck, Draco kicked and both boys had
their arms outstretched.
It was like she had been possessed by the spirit of the founder of Quidditch with the scream
that tore out of her the moment Draco pushed his broom up and raised his arm to show of the
Snitch.
“He got it!” Daphne yelled, jumping up and down. The two girls hugged, jumped up and
down a bit more, their arms around their necks. “We got it!”
The Slytherin stands was in complete madness. It was the first time Slytherin had won
against Gryffindor in five years.
“Come on!” Daphne called, pulling Hermione down the stands towards the pitch, “Let’s meet
them.”
Daphne was faster and sprinted towards Pansy, all but jumping at her, “You were brilliant,
bloody amazing!”
Theo caught Hermione by the waist and twirled her in the air, she laughed and squealed.
“All right that’s enough, I got the fucking Snitch.” Draco snapped, way closer than she
expected him to be. Theo put her down with a smirk, but his hand remained on Hermione’s
waist.
Pansy was smirking too and she and Daphne had matching expressions and stances. They
were eager for a show.
“Yeah?” Theo asked. “Do you want a congratulations for doing your fucking job for once?”
“Theo—” Hermione started but Draco’s abrupt proximity made her swallow her words.
“Unhand my girlfriend right now before I do something that will get the three of us dead.”
Theo snorted, but he did let go of Hermione and grinned, “Took your time.” Theo then turned
to Hermione, “I will have to tell you a secret later Granger, because I know you just lost one
of yours.”
“You knew?” She asked.
Pansy scoffed, “Girl, you have a hickey of the size of Jupiter on your left breast, of course we
knew.”
Hermione gasped and embarrassedly, placed her hands where the aforementioned hickey was
hidden. “Why were you looking at my boobs!”
“She wasn’t, I was,” Daphne said with a chuckle and a shrug.

“Wait,” Draco said with a pause. He was still keeping his distance from her and from any
outsider, it looked like they were fighting. Hermione hoped no one came any closer. “If all of
you knew, why on Salazar’s beard were you giving me so much shit?”
Blaise smirked and threw an arm around Theo’s shoulder, Hermione tried hid her smile,
Blaise needed to get on his tiptoes for that.
“We needed to be convincing and besides, it was fun.”
Chapter End Notes
Let me know in the comments what you think!
I decided to give Slytherin a victory because really, not winning once against Gryffindor
is unrealistic, therefore there won't be a Quidditch ban from Harry and the Weasleys
twins here. And Ron also didn't get Keeper here, but I couldn't not include Pansy's canon
best creation.
The title and the quote at the beginning belong to Liar by Paramore
For anyone interested, you can find me on twitter moonyhoax or on instagram

camilajvnskt
butterfly lies, chase them away
Chapter Notes
Hello! thank you for the comments in the last chapter!!

This one is a bit on the lighter side as well, so I hope you enjoy it!
We enter a part of the story that I was very very excited to get since I began writing this
story four years ago. I don't think I mentioned it before, but fifth year was one of the
first things I wrote and then when I decided to post I had to go back to the first four
years.
The characters don't belong to me.

The title and the quote at the beginning belong to Lover of Mine by 5sos
I've seen the red,

I've seen the blue
take all of me
deep to where your secrets hide
where we've been a thousand times
Chapter Fifty-two
With November, Hagrid returned and Harry told her about his mission with the giants.
Hermione’s heart twisted, if Hagrid had looked like that, she dreaded to think how’d she find
Remus once they saw each other again for Christmas. She knew how vicious some of the
werewolves packs could be.
Hagrid’s first lesson back was as terrible as it could get. Thestrals were interesting creatures,
but not enough to make her forget why she could see them. It was a gloomy lesson and only a
quick look around was needed for her to see which of her colleagues could also see the
creatures. But of course it grew worse, Umbridge showed up for inspection and she unsettled
Hagrid so bad that Hermione was certain Hagrid wouldn’t have a job anymore come
morning.
The Gryffindors were still upset about Quidditch and Pansy, who had taken to hum the song
she created under her breath whenever Ron was close enough to hear, wasn’t making things
easier.
Harry was angry but for once, it wasn’t at her. After a short and direct ‘your boyfriend is an
asshole’ they decided to not talk about it. Hermione definitely didn’t talk about how Harry
was not even slightly angry at a certain raven-haired that orchestrated the entire thing.
A few weeks before Christmas, when Hermione was leaving Transfiguration she caught sight
of Dobby behind a statue. She stopped in her steps and the elf grinned at her widely.
He had found it.
She went after him and with a snap of his fingers the elf made a covered and bound portrait
appear. It was bigger than him. “Dobby has it! Master Black’s portrait was very hard to find
but Dobby found it! For Harry Potter, Dobby found it!” The elf squealed behind the portrait.
“Thank you so much Dobby!” Hermione said, “Harry will be so happy with it!”
“Dobby appreciates it! A lot!”
“I appreciate it as well Dobby. Can you meet me at Professor Merrythought’s office at five? I
have two more classes today.”
“Of course!” He replied excitedly and vanished the portrait. “Should Dobby tell Harry Potter
as well?”
“Not yet,” she replied, “I want to prepare the surprise for him!” Hermione said. She would
have a conversation with Regulus first, to see if she could trust him - it - before showing it to
Harry.
“Oooh!” Dobby said excitedly, “Dobby likes surprises! They is Dobby’s favourite, yes!”
“Really?” She asked with a smile, “I think Harry will like this one as well.”
The elf nodded and Hermione rushed to the next class, excited about later.
Dobby was there when Hermione arrived and she made sure too lock the door and cast a
silencing spell on it. The portrait was still covered and Dobby had placed it over the sofa.
Hermione was nervous. She knew that technically speaking, nothing could happen, but what
if he was nasty? What if he was like the many busts of Malfoy men and women at the Malfoy
Manor? Who openly scowled and hissed slurs at her the first time she went there?
“Thank you Dobby,” She said. “You can go now.” The elf nodded and quickly disappeared.
Hermione took a deep breath and uncovered it. She hadn’t know what to expect, Hermione
hadn’t seen any pictures of the youngest Black brother, but his resemblance to Sirius was
uncanny. And with the many photos she’d seen of James, it was easy to picture the two of
them. Fifteen and sixteen and in love.
“What is the meaning of this?” The boy in the portrait asked irritatedly, dark grey eyes
moving around in suspicion. “Who are you? And where am I?” He had shorter hair than
Sirius, but it had the same fall and curls as his older brother.
“I’m Hermione.” She replied.

“No surname.” He said and Hermione noticed a faint smile. She wondered how true to the
person Regulus Black this painting was. “You are either hiding it on purpose or it’s not
important,” Regulus commented.
Hermione knew at once that the painting was impeccable, for he had the same smirk all the
other Blacks carried. “But since you had the Malfoy family elf kidnap me, I’d say you are
hiding it.” Impressive. She had yet to actively have a conversation with a portrait and hadn’t
known what to expect. Obviously, one with its faculties so preserved was a nice surprise.
Hermione neither confirmed nor denied and she watched as the painted boy crossed his arms
in front of his chest. “You clearly know who I am. So tell me, Hermione. What do you want
from me?”
“Nothing.” She replied, “but my brother might want something.”
He raised an eyebrow, and Hermione noticed that he carried an air of aristocracy that Sirius
had long abandoned. “Will I get a full name this time?” She smirked and watched as he
smiled at her. It was mischievous. “You don’t look the part, but you sure smirk like one.” He
said.
Hermione frowned, “Who?”
“The owner of the elf you sent.”
Her eyes widened a bit and Hermione had the momentarily urge to put up her Occlumency
shields. He was just a portrait. A very real one.
But Merlin, the last thing Hermione needed right now was to discover that she smirked like
Lucius Malfoy.
“I’m not one,” She replied. “Neither is my brother.” She added and noticed that she had his
full attention. Had he spoken to anyone since his passing? Or was Hermione the first person
to do so? She continued, “You don’t know him of course, but you will recognise the name.
Harry Potter.”
And Salazar’s beard, recognise he did.
It was instantaneous and it should have been impossible, but Hermione saw the reflection of
an onslaught of emotions passing through his eyes.
“Harry Potter,” he repeated. It was different, the way he said Harry’s name. It wasn’t with the
reverence and awe that most people usually said it. No, it was almost like he was trying to
taste it, or maybe just to have an excuse to say it out loud after year believing the name would
never fall from his lips again. Whatever it was, Regulus had savoured each letter of that six-
letter surname.
Regulus was looking at her then, truly looking. She watched him taking notice of her hair, her
eyes, and her clothes. She knew the moment he came to a conclusion.
“We do not share a father.” She confirmed and he merely nodded.

“Was it Lily?” Regulus asked, soft and quiet.
“Yes.”
Regulus’ lips twitched in pain, but his expression was quickly substituted by amusement.
“Oh my, don’t tell me Sev got the girl?”
Hermione broke into a smile. She didn’t look like Severus, she knew that. But this man—boy,
she remembered, as he was only two years older than her - knew her father, had been close
friends with him and probably had known all about Severus’ relationship with Lily.
“Briefly.” She replied. “I’m the older sister.”
Regulus nodded, “Of course.” He said and then did the same tilted head thing his older
brother also did. “Severus defected then? If he and Lily had you—but now she’s with James
and—” He didn’t know.
She remembered then: Regulus Black had died in summer of 1979, over two years before
Lily and James Potter.
“Lily is dead.” Hermione said, cutting him off and before he could process the information,
added: “James is dead as well. Voldemort killed them.”
“No.” He said, low as a whisper. He took a few steps backwards and Hermione wondered if
he’d disappear. Did he have any portraits to go? His voice broke, “James—no—how?”
“It’s a very long story.” She said. “But Harry and I never got to meet them. They died on the
Halloween of 1981.”
“When did I die?” He asked, his voice suddenly sharp. He sounded desperate.
“Summer of 1979.”
The pain was back and Hermione knew portraits didn’t breath, but this one had all the
mannerisms of a living person, because she saw the intake of breath and the clench of his jaw.
“Two years.” He whispered, “I didn’t give him more than two years.”
And there it was. The hint that Hermione needed. From Regulus’ journals and Harry’s
stories, she wondered if Regulus, who seemed to have loved James Potter so much wouldn’t
fall on the same grey scale that the people she knew.
“Voldemort is back. He disappeared that night. He tried to kill Harry and the curse
rebounded. But he returned last summer.”
His eyes flashed. “What do you mean the curse rebounded?”
“He cast the killing curse on Harry but Lily’s love sacrifice saved him. The spell hit his
forehead and then rebounded on Voldemort, he disappeared after that.”
“And Harry?” Regulus asked, leaning closer to the frame. “What happened to him?”
“Nothing. It gave him a scar on his forehead.”
She knew he was processing the information, but how? Did portraits have memory storage?
Would he remember this conversation later? He studied her and looked at the room she was
in. “I’m in Hogwarts. It doesn’t look much different than what I remember. We are—I know
where we are.” He said and shook his head in disbelief, “Professor Merrythought’s office.”
“How do you know this?” She asked. For all means, he shouldn’t be capable to know.
“I used to—Well, Regulus did, play that piano over there. Clair de Lune. It was his
favourite."
“Do you have all of his memories?”
“How can I know? I only know what he told me.” He replied. “But he told me a lot.”
“Why?”
He smirked. “Why did you have the elf go after me? You want something from me. He knew
people would one day come looking for him.” He replied.
“Why would people go looking for you?”
The grin the threw at her was so absurdly reminiscent of Draco, that her heart ached. Regulus
ignored her question, asking her instead, “Which year are you? Sixth?”
“Fifth. It’s December 1995. Christmas is in two weeks.”
“Sixteen years.” He said, his eyes distant. “I’ve been dead for sixteen years.” Hermione
nodded. It was weird, to look at his painting, when she knew he was only one year younger
than Sirius but at the same time didn’t look much older than her. “You haven’t said it yet.
What does your brother want with me?”
Hermione smiled a bit, but Merlin knew it was a sad one. “Harry never met James, he doesn’t
have anything other than what your brother has told him.” There was something there, at the
mention of Sirius. Painful and hateful at the same time.
“But it still doesn't explain what I he would want with me. I doubt Sirius has said a single
nice thing about me in these past sixteen years.”
“He didn’t have the time.” She said. “He went to Azkaban for their death and escaped in the
summer of 1993. I helped clean his name.”
Regulus was furious. He snarled and scoffed, muttered something unintelligible in French,
“They thought Sirius killed James? James?” He laughed and it was the exact same awful
laugh Sirius had when he was angry. “The one person he could never betray.”
“Peter Pettigrew was the traitor and—”
“Fucking Peter.”
“—Sirius lost it, he was framed and caught at the scene. Pettigrew killed twelve muggles to
escape.”
“Unbelievable.” He muttered. “I leave them alone and in two years they manage to fuck up
immensely.”
Hermione chuckled, but quickly sobered up. “They said you died trying to run from
Voldemort. That you got scared and wanted to leave.” She told him.
His expression was clear. To this, he didn’t react. “You don’t believe it.” It was his only reply.
“I know who you were to James. My father is a former Death Eater, currently a spy. I spent
more time with Lucius and Narcissa at the Malfoy Manor than with the family who raised
me. I know there’s more to you.”
“Just as there is so much more to you.” He said and his face was pure curiosity. Hermione
questioned herself on what must be like, to die and then have a conversation sixteen years
later when everything was different. “It explains the elf now, at least. And why you scheme
like Lucius.”
“It’s a very long story.” She repeated, pained. Ignoring his last comment.
“I can see that.” He replied. “But if my brother spent all these years in Azkaban… How do
you know who I am? How do you know who I was to James?”
“Remus told me about your relationship.” She said and watched as Regulus murmured
something under his breath. “And recently, Harry found your journals.” That caught Regulus’
attention. Suddenly there was a clearness to his eyes that Hermione had half a thought to
believe him to be alive. “Harry likes you. The way you write and the things you wrote about
his dad. You made him real.”
“Funny. Because half of the time I didn’t believe him to be.”
“I only have one question.” She said.
He nodded. “And now I get to know why it’s you here and not your brother.”
Well, wasn’t he a bright one?
“Did you try to leave because you were scared?” Hermione asked.
“Why does it matter?”
“Because I don’t think it’s true. And I hate lies.”
“Your father lies for a living.”
“He teaches Potions for a living. Lying is a side job.”
Regulus chuckled, but he answered her. “I wasn’t running away.”

Hermione nodded. “Will you talk to Harry?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Not really.” She shrugged. “But he deserves to have the information he wants and if you are
not willing to give it, I won’t tell him about you and you will go back to where I got you from
where no one knows you exist.”
“He's your little brother." Regulus replied lowly. He tilted his head to the side, "You wear
green, don’t you?” He asked with another smirk. She had changed out of her uniform before
coming, to not give herself away from the beginning. Clearly, he was smarter.
“Yes.”
“It shows.” He said, “Sev must be proud. And I will talk to your brother, of course.”
“Thank you.”
He nodded. “Should I just wait? Or are you taking me somewhere else as if I’m a piece of
furniture and you are redecorating?”
“You are a piece of furniture.” She replied and covered the portrait again. He complained,
annoyed and offended by such treatment, so Hermione cast a silencing charm on it to keep
him from yelling around the castle.
Hermione had taken to carry Regulus portrait around, not because she wanted to talk to him
but because she was afraid to leave him at her dormitory unattended and the girls' curiosity
would have them pulling the cover off of it. Hermione shared the room with three girls from
the Sacred Twenty-Eight, they’d know who he was at once. She couldn’t risk him saying
something to any of her roommates. And also because it was easier to have him at all times if
opportunity to show it to Harry came.
He was busy with Quidditch and and Hermione was busier with school work and her lesson
plans for the D.A. Harry had asked her for help with Hagrid, suggesting that she created a
lesson plan for him so he wouldn’t be sacked by Umbridge. She told him that it wasn’t
because she was doing it for him, she would do for everyone else. Besides, she didn't have
the time and preferred Grubby-Plank classes. Not that she would ever tell him that. She used
her time to find information about Regulus Black on her own in the meantime. She
discovered he had been a Prefect and Quidditch Captain, and a brilliant student in Potions
and Defence. But there were very few things about his life past Hogwarts, not that it had been
long. She could only find his picture on the 1978 yearbook and then the news of his death a
year later.
Something that she had been quite curious was that paintings were usually made at the end of
one’s life, so why would a eighteen year old have one painted that no one seemed to know
about? His painting had been hidden, away from his house and uncared about. Why? And
how could it be so real? Remus and Sirius told her that the more powerful a wizard and the
more time one spent with his or her painting, more accurate your personality would be and
more memories it could hold. From their conversation it was eery how much it felt like
having a conversation with someone alive, so immensely different from the hundreds of
portraits around the castle. Why had Regulus taken the time and effort for that?
Hermione knew the only way to find the answer was by asking him. But she needed to
introduce him to Harry first.
Opportunity came three days before they had to take the train for the holidays. It was her turn
to pull and drag her brother away, “What is it?” He asked as she dragged him up to
Merrythought’s office.
“You will see.” She replied.
As soon as they entered, Hermione cast the usual silencing and locking spells on the door and
removed the portrait from her purse. “Hermione what the—” He seemed unable to finish his
sentence and watched with his mouth hanging open as she placed the portrait on the sofa and
undid the silencing spell on it.
“Finally!” Regulus said, he was still covered, but that didn’t keep him from complaining. “Do
you have any idea how unpleasant it is to be carried around in a purse? And how many things
do you have in there? You have an illegal spell right there, don't you? One of the few hundred
books you carry around could have damaged the painting and—James.” He gasped.
Hermione had pulled the cover.
“No,” Harry replied and he looked between the portrait in front of him and Hermione with
wide eyes. “You are him.” He said and looked at Hermione for confirmation. She nodded.
“Dad's ex-boyfriend.”
Regulus’ jaw twitched and Hermione was amused to see he was pleased with the words.
“Certainly an improvement from Sirius’ little brother.” Regulus replied, “But I do prefer
Regulus Black. Regulus Arcturus Black, if we are being fancy.”
“Harry James Potter.” Harry replied.
Regulus eyes shone a bit with emotion, “of course you are.” And then he turned to Hermione,
“You didn’t tell me your full name last time.”
Harry turned to her, “you've talked to him?”
She nodded. “And it’s Hermione Jean Granger.” Hermione replied. “I got Dobby to find him.
You’ve been reading his journals the entire term, I thought—you’d appreciate the real thing,
well, as real as it can get with a portrait.”
“Quite real,” Regulus supplied, “I'm phenomenal.” Hermione snorted, oh yes, the Black ego.
“Does Sirius know about this?” Harry asked, his tone carrying the same amusement
Hermione felt.
“No,” Hermione replied shaking her head, “You know how he is—” Regulus snorted, “—No
one knows.”
“He will freak out,” Harry said, “He will—I don't know, turn into a dog and hide under the
table.”
Regulus laughed and Harry looked pleased to have made him laugh. It was different from
Sirius’ laughter, which was usually contagious and loud and took control of his entire body.
Regulus laughed like he expected to be punished about it. “You know what he did when he
found out about James and I?” Harry shook his head, green eyes already shining in
expectation. “Took to performing Julius Cesar at random times around the castle.” Hermione
and Harry spluttered and laughed. “He had the whole thing memorised, I never knew how he
learned all of those lines, but he would spurt out of nowhere and just recite 'come I to speak
in Caesar's funeral, he was my friend, faithful and just to me’ like he was on a play.”
They were still laughing and Regulus was content on tell them all about it.
“I was so mean to him,” Regulus told them, hours later. “He'd call me mean all the time, but
he’d had that stupid grin, like me being mean to him was his greatest achievement.”
Hermione sniggered and Harry’s ears and cheeks got red in secondhand embarrassment for
his dad. “I was seeker for Slytherin—”
“I’m a Seeker as well!” Harry said, “but for Gryffindor, of course.”
“Of course,” Regulus muttered, “Seeker, huh? Oh, that’s grand. He used to keep the Snitches
after the game, like a little thief, mind you, and he’d show off with them, throwing the thing
up in the air and catching it before it flew away. I would tell him, ‘the auditions for the Circus
ended weeks ago baby, you are exerting yourself for nothing’ and he’d laugh, choke on it
really, as if I hadn’t just insulted him.”
Hermione and Harry were laughing, but it wasn’t at James no, it was at the nickname and
how soft and delicate he said it, how his eyes and cheeks betrayed him the moment the baby
slipped.
Regulus was sharp and frowned at them, “What?”
“You called him baby.” Harry said with a grin and Regulus scowled at once.
“Well, he called me sweetheart,” He retorted, as if it was a valid argument, Hermione and

Harry only chuckled harder.
“Merlin, you were worse than Remus and Sirius."
Regulus gasped in offence and them glared at the pair, “Don't you dare say that.” He told
them, pointing a finger at both of them.
He told them many stories, and maybe James had been on to something, Regulus was a
sweetheart. She listened quietly as Regulus recounted countless of pranks his brother and
friends pulled during their years. Hermione noticed that every story Regulus told was of
happy times and Hermione was glad for them. Hermione knew Regulus had more than just
happy stories, but he seemed to know what Harry wanted and for once, Hermione was
content to just listen.
She understood then, what Remus had told her that last Easter: I don’t think you will ever see
what he used to be like, because the version of Sirius that Regulus had was nothing like what
they had now.
On the day of their last D.A. meeting, she knew Harry was in a mood before he even turned
to her. Very often, he’d take his hand to his temple and massage it, hissing a bit in pain. She
knew it was his scar hurting.
“Okay,” Harry said, calling them all to order. His voice wasn’t as loud as usual when he gave
them orders, which was probably due to his pounding head. “I thought this evening we
should just go over the things we’ve done so far, because it’s the last meeting before the
holidays and there’s no point starting anything new right before a three-week break—”
“We’re not doing anything new?” Zacharias Smith asked, in a disgruntled whisper loud
enough to carry through the room. “If I’d known that, I wouldn’t have come—”
“We’re all really sorry Harry didn’t tell you, then,” Fred replied loudly.
Several people sniggered. And Hermione was thankful for him. After the match between
Slytherin and Gryffindor, their lessons were strained and a bit too personal. It had been a ugly
loss and with the addition of the badges and the song which could still be heard sometimes
around the castle, it was a dragged one.
“We can practice in pairs,” Harry continued. “We’ll start with the Impediment Jinx, just for
ten minutes, then we can get out the cushions and try Stunning again.
They all divided up obediently; Hermione went to Theo and saw that Harry and Blaise had
partnered up. Once more, Pansy went up to Neville. The room was soon full of intermittent
cries of “Impedimenta!” People froze for a minute or so, during which their partners would
stare aimlessly around the room watching other pairs at work, then would unfreeze and take
their turn at the jinx.
It didn’t take her long to realise that Theo was getting bored and annoyed by the entire thing.
They had been casting successfully at one another for not even five minutes when he seemed
to have had enough.
“Well, that’s all very nice and proper,” Theo said with scorn. And Hermione raised her
eyebrows in surprise at the tone. Maybe someone else was moody too. “But fighting Death
Eaters won’t be like wizard’s duel.” He told Harry, who had his hands in fists from the
moment Theo opened his mouth. “They won’t wait for you to bow.” Theo said, a mean smile
in Harry’s direction, and Hermione dreaded the next words, for they came scathingly. “They
will make you bow, won’t they, Potter?”
Harry advanced on him, teeth barring and hands coming on Theo’s shirt. “You would know
all about that, wouldn’t you?” Harry hissed. Everyone stopped what they were doing to
watch.
Ron stayed to the side and the rest of the Gryffindors as well. At large, they knew Theo and
Harry were in good terms, friends even. So they waited.
“Yes, I would,” Theo replied, not worried in the slightest about the sudden attack on his
person. Blaise watched the scene from the side, he seemed less worried about the entire thing
than the Gryffindors.
“You fucking father—”
“He was there.” Theo finished, nodding his head. “My fucking father was there and he told
me all about how his Lord made you bow.” Theo sneered, face coming very close to Harry’s.
Which was a lie. The last time Theo spoke to his father was during the summer of his third
year. “He was there and that’s the reason why I am fucking here.” He snarled and his blue
eyes were dark in blinding rage. “Because that crazy fucker has returned, and he’s coming for
you and because of you—” Theo spat, thrusting a finger at Harry’s chest, “he’s coming for
her,” Theo said, pointing now at her. Harry glanced at her, it was clear how angry he was.
Sometimes, when he got angry like this, he was unrecognisable to her. Theo turned to
Hermione, she watched, her heart in her throat, as his eyes cleared a little. “I will be the one
making my father bow if he even tries to raise his wand at you.” He told her.
God, Theo.
Harry stepped back, looking between Theo and Hermione. She saw him trying to control his
temper, saw that Theo was itching for a fight and Hermione wondered what the hell had
happened to get him like that. Tell me a secret, Theo.
Blaise had finally decided to move and as he passed through Hermione he quickly squeezed
her bicep and smiled at her. He reached for Theo. “Love,” he called and Theo turned. In a
low voice, that only the four of them could hear, said: “That was very hot, I will very much
suck your cock now, we should leave.”
Theo snorted and simple as that, he was back to normal. The couple stared at each other for a
long time and Hermione knew that if they were alone, not being watched by the entire D.A,
he’d have kissed Blaise. As it was, he only smirked. “Save that energy for later. I’m about to
get even hotter now.”
There was so much jerk energy on his voice and smile that Hermione felt herself cringing.
Blaise laughed, adjusted his pants and stepped back with a move that clearly meant ‘by all
means, be my guest’.
Theo turned to Harry once more, “You may think you know what you are doing, that having
fought him makes you expert of how their side fights, but you forget one thing Harry, the rest
of us, we won’t be fighting Voldemort, we will be fighting the Death Eaters, the crazy and
deranged, the ones that don’t bother with disarming spells, unless they can make you bleed.”
He then turned to the crowd, they were all watching him warily, not that it was different from
most meetings, as the group of Slytherins were always treated with mistrust. “Since you are
all so quick to throw Death Eater at my face, I’d say it’s about time you start to learn from
one.”
Blaise smirked and Hermione saw it mirrored in a few of the more fiery Gryffindors, like the
twins and Ginny.
And then the show began.
“It won’t be like this. It won’t be one-to-one, sometimes it can be five to one and they
definitely won’t wait for you to unfreeze before casting it again.” He told them and without
any warning, threw a Jelly-Leg curse on Pansy. She fell to the floor with a ‘motherfucker' on
her tongue and quickly threw something back at him. He easily blocked it.
Some people gasped and gave them a wide berth.
“What was it that Moody liked to yell at us?” Theo asked, “Constant Vigilance. Fake or not,
Death Eater or not, he had a point. But most importantly, the reason why you always have to
be alert is that they know how to cast non-verbally. We won’t know what they cast until it hit
us.”
“So how do we get them?” Fred Weasley asked.
Theo smirked, so very full of himself. “Who knows know to play Dodgeball?” He asked and
Hermione’s jaw dropped. Harry snorted, but raised his hand. Hermione raised hers as well.
Blaise, to her surprise also did. The muggleborns knew of course, Dean Thomas, the Creevey
brothers and Justin Finch-Fletchley all raised their hands. As well as some of the half-bloods,
like Seamus Finnigan, Hannah Abbot and Anthony Goldstein. “Good, come here.”
Theo looked around and Hermione knew he was looking for something to use it as a ball. The
Room seemed to know that they needed, because suddenly lines appeared on the floor,
dividing the space in two, and six rubber balls appeared evenly placed across the middle line.
“This room is bloody brilliant.” Dean Thomas murmured and everyone agreed.
“I’m not going to explain the rules to those who don’t know. Because that’s how usually is.
You will never have the upper hand.”
Pansy was the first one to complain, “That’s unfair!”
“Cry about it princess,” Blaise retorted.
“Hermione is going to write down the rules and put them aside, so once we finish you can
check to see that we didn’t cheat or create any rules as we went.”
Hermione nodded and set to doing that. It was a fairly easy game and despite not having
playing often at school, she knew the basic rules. Dean Thomas walked up to her, “I'm fairly
sure we all have the same rules, but those two pureblood? How do they even know what
dodgeball is? Did they play at recess between violin and ancient Latin?”
She snorted and if Theo’s father wasn’t who he was, Hermione could even consider it to be a
possibility.
“Okay,” Theo said when they returned. “You know what to do.”
It was fun and as Pansy said, completely unfair. Even though their side was completely
outnumbered, with just eleven against twenty-four of them, it was clear the others had no
idea of what they were supposed to to. Theo’s team all backed down, going to stand on the
far line and they watched in amusement as the other team all scrambled to do the same. Harry
still had the whistle, so he was the one to blow it and at once, the eleven of them ran to the
middle line where the balls were lined up. Because the other team wasn’t completely made of
dunderheads, a few of them guessed what they had to do, but with no avail, every ball went
to their side.
Dean and Seamus were already sniggering, each holding a ball, Theo and Harry also had one
and Hannah Abbot had the last one. The other side was confused, but together they backed
off and at least three of them stepped out of bounds. “Brown, Edgecombe and Corner you are
out!” Finnigan shouted and Hermione watched they all look at one another in confusion.
“The line,” Someone called, “you can’t step out of the line.” They all clustered together in the
middle.
Hermione smirked and she shared a grin with Theo, “Ready?” He called and the ones with
the ball nodded.
“What?” Someone else said in slight panic, “what are they going to do?”
“It's called Dodgeball Michael, what do you think they are going to do?” Ginny snarled just
as the balls went flying. All of them hit the target, but both Angelina Johnson and Pansy
managed to hold the balls, keeping them from hitting the ground. Chasers.
“Longbottom, Daph, Jordan and Patil, you are out. Johnson and Pans you two stay.” Blaise
informed them and once more they all looked among themselves, trying to guess what had
happened. Being hit was obvious enough, but the two Chasers looked at one another and
shared a quick nod.
“We hold it.” Hermione heard them say it.
“Finnigan and Abbot you are out.” He continued and that got the others’ attention. “Brown
and Edgecombe you can come back.” More whispering, the ones who had been saved were
even more confused than the ones still in the game.
“I caught Seamus’ throw,” Angelina said, “and he was eliminated.”
“But why did they return?” Chang asked in confusion.
“Ooh, this is too fun.” Dean said next to her.
The other team had the balls now, four were lying on the ground and the other two still in the
girl’s hands. Pansy didn’t wait, she shot it straight towards Blaise’s head, who quickly evaded
it by lowering himself. Angelina shot it was well and Hermione saw the Weasley twins and
Ginny scramble for the others.
Harry saved her by blocking one of the twins throw with the ball Pansy had thrown.
“Thanks,” she said and scurried to get that ball before it went out of line.
It was amusing to see them having to both play and figure out what they could and couldn’t
do. Every time the balls went to their possession, they would get together and whisper
something. They had understood the ways to eliminate and not be eliminated, but still seemed
to fumble about how to get one of their players back.
Theo's team was winning, because their small number helped, as they could easily move
around to dodge the throws, while the other team knocked against one another or ended up
stepping over the boundary. The quidditch players on the other side were mostly controlling
the game, neither Chaser nor Beater ever missed a throw, but they were constantly eliminated
by Harry, Blaise, Theo and Hannah, who had excellent reflexes.
After what felt like hours, they were sweating and everyone had been eliminated and brought
back as least twice, the game ended. Ginny Weasley had been the last one standing and for a
moment Hermione thought the red headed girl would throw a hex at Blaise for eliminating
her. But Gryffindors were definitely better sportsmen than Slytherins. Everyone was
excitedly talking about the game, the group of Ravenclaws were reading the rules and
arguing whether they had been properly followed or not. For once, her friends were not
isolated to a corner, so Hermione let them mingle.
Hermione approached Harry, who was animatedly talking to Theo, “—that was amazing, did
you see how they were dodging by the end of it?”
“Made up?” She asked them with a smirk. Theo put an arm around her shoulders and tugged
her to his side.
“Sometimes one just need a different approach,” he told her.
Hermione snorted, “A very Slytherin one.” She commented, “You okay?” She asked Harry,
“Your scar was hurting earlier, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Harry nodded, taking his hand to scratch it. “It's just—I don’t know, like a constant
anxiety?” He told her, “he's anxious about something, which makes me anxious and
irritable.”
“Do you think he’s planning something?” She asked.
Harry just nodded, “And it unnerves me to know that I have no idea what.” He said with a
shrug, “Well, I will see you two later. Wait. You are all going to Remus’ place for Christmas,
right?” They nodded.
“My parents invited me to go skiing with them for a week, but I will be there after.” She told
him.
“I will go straight there.” Theo replied.
“Cool. I will go to the Burrow first, but I think Sirius can annoy Dumbledore enough to let
me go there. Being at the Burrow can’t be much different than being Remus’ place, right?”
“No, I’m pretty sure the same protections are in place in both places.” Theo replied and Harry
nodded again, but he was already leaving, someone had been calling for him.
Hermione turned to him then, “How many, Theo?”
The corner of his mouth lifted in a small smile, “Straight to the point, huh?”
“You purposely baited Harry earlier. It led to an amazing idea, but the entire approach was
completely unnecessary. You wanted a fight.” She told him and then showed her fist,
“Ready?”
He nodded and on three they showed their numbers. Hermione had two while Theo had three.
He had showed her three fingers the last time, but after the match, he revealed he had known
about her and Draco, which simultaneously removed a secret of hers and one of his, so
Hermione knew he had a new secret.
“Tell me a secret, Theo.”
“I'm getting threats from my father.” He told her and she gasped. "He thinks it's funny to tell
me what he's going to do with you."
Well, that explained his behaviour earlier.
Hermione knew she could potentially be a target, with her relationship with Harry and
Severus, but it chilled to the bones actually learning that she was. “I thought your owl post
was blocked.” She replied instead.
“It is. Someone in Slytherin is getting the letters from him, making sure they find me.”
“Have you told my father about it?”
He shook his head, “Not yet. I want to find whoever is doing it on my own.”
“Theo—”
“Hermione, if they think they can help that bastard and not hear from me, they are profoundly
mistaken.”
Hermione sighed, “Thank Merlin the term ends in two days.”
The last meeting had ran late after their excitement with the game, and everyone was still
talking and sharing their Christmas plans, but slowly, they began to leave one after the other.
Hermione didn’t see the other Slytherins, so she supposed they had left already, so she left
with Theo without bothering to say goodbye or wish everyone Merry Christmas.
…
“Look over there,” Daphne said with a frown during breakfast the next morning, “and tell me
if there’s something wrong in the Gryffindor table.”
They all turned to look and Hermione let her eyes run from one end of the table to the other.
One thing she noticed was that Harry wasn’t there.
“There are no read-heads.” Blaise replied.
“Yes!” Daphne said and pointed her fork at Blaise, “that's it! All the Weasleys are gone."
Hermione looked again and saw that they were correct.
“Potter is also gone,” Pansy added. So the raven-haired had noticed that as well.
“What do you think happened?” Theo asked.
“I have no idea.” Hermione replied. She glanced a look at the High Table. Dumbledore was
eating peacefully while Umbridge was glaring daggers at him. Professor McGonagall was
clearly tense and the frown in her forehead was not her usual one, she was worried about
something. Her father, on Dumbledore’s other side, was seemingly enjoying his eggs.
It took her almost an entire day to learn what had happened. She cornered Neville and then
Dean before dinner and they told her about Harry’s dream the night before and how
McGonagall appeared and took both Harry and Ron to Dumbledore’s office. Harry had had a
weird dream where Arthur Weasley had been severely attacked. They didn’t know anything
else, but apparently she had returned to get the other Weasleys too slightly after taking Ron
and Harry and everyone’s trunks were gone by the time they left for breakfast.
Hermione felt like someone had poured cold water over her. Her limbs froze and she could
feel her heart beating like crazy. Harry’s scar had been hurting the day before. He told her
Voldemort seemed anxious about something. She just knew something terrible had happened.
Chapter End Notes
Regulus Black my beloved!!!! I love him so much and I don't care how real portraits are,
Regulus is very real here. Well, I'm sure it's pretty obvious how his "presence" is going
to change things from canon, but I'm excited!!
And also !!! They playing Dodgeball was literally in my notes app since September of
2018 when I still had in my head that Harry and Hermione would be on the outs for the
entire autumn term and Theo and Harry's moment was originally a bit more aggressive, I
had to tone down because they are mates now.
But anyway, I hope you enjoyed it and let me know in the comments what you think!
Again, if you want you can find me on twitter it's moonyhoax.
living in the seams back home
Chapter Notes
Hello! Look who's finally back to following the original schedule!!!
Thank you for all the lovely comments as always! I loved finding more Regulus Black
apologists <3
The title of the chapter and the quotes at the beginning belong to Bloodline by Luke
Hemmings
If you have time, please read the end notes!!!!
the halls are closing in

if I knew from the start
would it change a thing?
Chapter Fifty-Three
Severus watched them take the train back to London, the Slytherin group down to two, just
Nneka's boy and Hermione. Parkinson and Greengrass would be staying in the castle,
Theodore had used his Floo to Remus. Severus couldn’t help to notice that for once, since he
started taking the Floo home, the boy chose to say goodbye to his boyfriend and best friend in
the castle, not going with them to the Hogsmeade station.
He arrived at Grimmauld three days after the incident. Hermione had gone skiing with her
parents, who had reached out again after the girl’s birthday. He had to admit, imagining his
daughter skiing wasn’t an easy feat, but it helped that she was away from all of this, at least
for now. Grimmauld was chaotic with Christmas preparations. Almost every Weasley was
present, alongside some Order members and Black and Harry of course.
Molly Weasley was in the kitchen, her husband was in a wheelchair still heavily bandaged
and looking worse for wear. At the sight of him, Molly glared and snapped. “What kind of
spy are you?” She yelled at him. His eyes flashed, but he shouldered the tone because her
husband had almost died. “You knew it was a trap, you knew that the people in there would
be in danger and still, you didn’t say anything!”
“The whole point of being a spy to both sides is that sometimes their side has to win—”
“I really wonder if it’s their side,” she replied scathingly.

This time he felt his anger try to slip away. How dare she? “He had Barty try to drown my
daughter last year.” He hissed, “He wants her dead.” Severus told her, his voice cutting. “It is
their side Mrs Weasley, and I told Dumbledore,” he said at last, tired and honestly, he had
enough. “I told him that Nagini was missing from the Manor.”
She was still glaring at him, but her expression changed when she caught something behind
him. Severus turned. Harry was leaning at the door, clearly listening to them. “Go Harry,” she
told the boy, “this is Order business.”
Severus saw the scathing reply before it left the boy’s lips, so he rushed. “I need to speak
with him.” He said, and added “call that godfather of yours.”
“What do you need to talk to him?” Molly asked, and Harry looked offended.
“That's between me, him, his godfather and Dumbledore.”
That seemed to infuriate her even further. “I won’t allow it!” She said, “he's just a boy. He
has no business having secrets with you!”
“You don’t need to allow it Molly,” Black said, appearing behind Harry. He patted the boy’s
shoulder and winked. “I happen to be his godfather.” He told her, it was a warning and a
reminder at once. “Come, let’s talk in the attic.”
Severus followed them, ignoring Molly Weasley’s muttering. Her husband tried to appease
her, but the last thing he heard was Molly scolding Arthur as well.
“Good job with the tug kiddo, not too strong that I thought you were dying, but carried the
urgency anyway.” Black told the boy and Severus understood how Black had appeared so
quickly. He was teaching him use the bond.
“Thanks,” Harry replied, “what is it, Professor?” He asked Severus.
“Dumbledore wants me to teach you Occlumency,” he told the boy, “we are to start once the
term resumes.”
Harry nodded, “it's because he thinks Voldemort is possessing me.” He said.
“What?” Black asked, “why do you think that?”
He looked sheepishly at his godfather, “I heard Moody talking with Molly and Arthur
through the Extendable Ear.” He confessed. But Black, instead of reproaching the boy’s
nosiness, merely enabled him.
“What else did you hear?”
“Moody thinks Voldemort sent the snake as a lookout, to look around before sending another
Death Eater.” Harry told them, “and then Molly said that Dumbledore was waiting for me to
see something like that, which Moody agreed and said there’s something funnyme attack
someone else?”
“He's not possessing you Harry.” Black said, placing both hands on the boy’s shoulder and
making him look at Black. “Look at me, pay attention. Voldemort is a powerful wizard, but
he doesn’t have the power to possess you, not from up close and certainly not from the
Manor while you are in Hogwarts.”
“But he possessed Quirrell!” Harry retorted, panicked, “what if in the graveyard he—”
“He failed in the graveyard.” Severus told the boy, “He failed that day and you got away from
him. The only reason he possessed Quirrell was because he didn’t have a body and Quirrell
was blind by power.”
“So how—”
Severus sighed. They didn’t have an answer for that. They had hypothesis and whatever
Narcissa was keeping to herself.
Black looked at him and for an uncomfortable moment, Severus realised they were thinking
of the same thing. Severus nodded. The boy looked terrified enough about the possibility of
being possessed by Voldemort, they would need to be forthcoming, as his daughter liked to
say.
"We think there’s a connection between the two of you.” Black began and Harry tensed,
looking between the adults.
“A connection?”
“Yes,” Black said, “it was one of the reasons why Snape began teaching you Occlumency.”
Harry looked at him, confused and slightly betrayed. “I thought it was because of Hermione.”
“It was.” Severus replied, this time he approached the boy as well, he placed a hand at the top
of the boy’s head, trying unsuccessfully to get it down. Black didn’t say anything so Severus
continued, “We think—Me, your godfather, Remus and Narcissa, that is— we think that the
night he tried to kill you and gave you this scar—” he touched it and the boy didn’t react, but
he quickly removed his hand, lowering his arm. “He opened a connection with you, that’s
how you can know what he’s feeling sometimes and because he has worse grip on his
emotions than your godfather—”
“Oi!”
“—Sometimes you can actually see through his eyes.”
“But Nagini—” Harry retorted, still confused, “I was her. I was seeing through her eyes. My
body felt smooth, powerful, and flexible. I was gliding across dark, cold stone, I—”
“Nagini is not an ordinary snake, Harry.” Severus told him. “She’s to Voldemort not what
Hedwig is to you. I believe he is her as much as she is him.”
“How is that possible?”

“We don’t know.” He told the boy. “I'm sorry, but we don’t know.”
He nodded. After so many Occlumency lessons, Severus had learned that Harry was much
more agreeable to ‘I don’t knows’ than ‘I can’t tell you that’s.
“So the Occlumency?”
Black answered that, “We were sure he wasn’t aware of this connection, otherwise he
wouldn’t be giving you glimpses at his plans, but we were afraid that he would use it if he
suddenly became aware. Closing your mind, without you worrying about whether he was
reading your thoughts or not, was essential.” Harry nodded, following his godfather’s
explanation. “Hermione is in a very—erm, complicated position with all of this. She doesn’t
have Lily’s sacrifice anymore, she doesn’t have Aurors looking after her and Dumbledore
doesn’t care enough to change that. That not being enough, to make things worse, Hermione
has Snape, Narcissa and Lucius, who are all very busy hiding her from Voldemort.”
“And I know that.” Harry said, the adults nodded. “I know Severus loves her, I know the
Malfoys care. If he sees inside my mind—”
“Harry,” Severus stopped the boy before he grew too agitated. “Voldemort doesn’t have free
entrance to your mind. He can’t see inside your mind from miles away. We believe he might
be able to do what you can, feel your strongest emotions and—”
“See through my eyes.”
“Yes, but I doubt he knows that.” Severus told him. And this he was certain. If Voldemort had
came upon this knowledge, he would brag and Severus would know. “I doubt he had done it
so.” He continued, “that's why it’s important to keep practising, to keep clearing your mind
and doing the exercises we’ve been doing. Harry, it’s essential that you close your mind when
you feel any sort of emotion that you don’t recognise as your own.”
“But if I do…” Harry began and Black took in a sharp breath. They knew what was coming,
“I might not see. I could save Arthur this time, if—”
“It's not your responsibility to do so.” Black told him, “Harry. Listen very carefully to me
now, you might think so, but this war is not centred on you. It is not your responsibility. We
—the Order, Arthur, we had been fighting him even before he decided to target you. All of us
lost someone to this war before you or Hermione were even born.”
“But it doesn’t change the fact that I can help! I can protect you and Remus and Hermione
and—” it had been so brief, so unexpected that Severus almost missed, but Harry had looked
at him in that moment, in that ‘and’. Severus wouldn’t have it.
“It’s not your job to do so.” Severus told him. “It's ours. We will protect ourselves, we will
protect one another and we will protect you. You just need to be safe.”
“I can’t just stand aside like that.”

Severus knew that. Merlin, Severus doubted that he would be allowed to do so. Bill Weasley
had joined, Fred and George were to graduate and their creations—Well, Severus wanted to
be very far away from Molly Weasley when the time came for them. And it would.
Black reached for his godson again, pulling him to his chest. Harry went easily, wrapping his
arms around Black. “I know kiddo. But it’s not your turn yet.” He said and looked at Severus
when he did.
They knew. There was no shielding Harry from what was to come. Dumbledore had made
sure of that, but they would be preparing the boy for every step of the way.
Hermione didn’t like skiing, but she didn’t dare to complain, not when everything was still
too easily breakable. They were talking a lot, at least. Her parents told her that they had gone
to visit Amelia at the cemetery in St. Albans and they didn’t need words for Hermione to
know how painful that had been. She told him what she knew, about Remus, Narcissa and
Severus. They were willing to listen to it all, almost like being thousands of kilometres high
up in a mountain could keep them away from the pain. Her mum wasn’t happy with Narcissa,
not that she ever was, because Hermione knew her mother was sometimes jealous of the
things Narcissa could and had offered Hermione, that by being a muggle, her mum never
could. It had been a blow, to confess that Narcissa was her godmother, to know that
technically, Hermione had more family in the wizarding world than in the muggle one. It was
a very long and difficult conversation, with lots of tears as Hermione told them she wanted
Severus as a dad and to share Harry’s parents with him and even more tears when her parents
asked her why they weren’t enough. She felt like she could have choked on the tears when
she whispered she didn’t know.
Once they returned to London, there were a couple of letters waiting for her. One from Harry,
where he briefly told her why he had left the castle early. She knew he couldn’t risk more
information, so she decided to wait when she saw him again to ask for more. The other letter
was from her father, not that he had signed, because again, risks, but she recognised his
calligraphy. He had asked her to let him know when she would be going to Remus and if he
could stop by to speak with her parents.
Her mum had been quick with her no, but her dad, he had sighed and agreed.
So Hermione waited, anxiously, for her father to arrive. She only hoped it would be better
than Remus’ visit had been.
It was almost evening when the doorbell rang and Hermione jumped to her feet. “No,” her
dad said, “I will get the door.” She gulped, but nodded.
Hermione sat back down on the sofa and watched his dad’s back intensely. Her mum was
tense next to her, she hadn’t bothered with tea or biscuits and already Hermione was so
nervous that it would go terribly. She could only partially see the door, and saw them
exchanging words. Her father’s face was as always unreadable, and even without seeing her
dad’s face she knew he was sombre.
Finally, her dad let Severus inside and into the living room.
“Hi,” she greeted weakly. Hermione was not brave enough to call him dad now.
He didn’t seem bothered or upset by it, “Hello, Hermione.” He replied and turned to her
mum, “Hello, Mrs Granger.”
Her mum was working her jaw and the only thing she managed was a curt nod. Her dad
motioned the armchair across from the sofa to Severus to sit, to which he complied silently.
Hermione was sat between her mum and dad, with her father across from her.
“So,” her dad began. “We meet again.” He said, “but now with the truth.”
“Indeed.” Severus replied, “I’d like to begin with an apology, despite knowing that there’s no
forgiveness for what we did.”
“No,” her mum replied curtly. “And I want you to place your wand at the table. Where we
can see it at all times.”
He nodded and pulled his wand from the holder under his left sleeve, carefully, he placed it at
the table between them.
“I am sorry,” Severus said, “for hurting your family.”
“But not for what you did.” Her mum replied.
He shook his head. “Never. I saved my daughter's life. I won’t ever regret that.”
Her mum didn’t appreciate that word.
“Tell me,” her mum said, “would Amelia have lived if it weren’t for your… interference?”
“No. She would have died much earlier.” Severus replied and it was sharp as a knife. Her
mum's breath hitched and her dad closed his eyes. “Their doctors had misdiagnosed her,
every time you brought her in, we had to save her life.”
“Until you didn’t have to anymore.” Her mum concluded and he nodded.
“If Amelia had been born a witch, if she had been under magical care, would she have
lived?” Her dad asked.
“Yes. Bacterial Meningitis is an easily curable disease in the Magical World.”
“You could have saved her. But you chose to let her die because it suited you.”
“No, I am a Potions Master, I only have basic healing training. None of us had enough
knowledge or skill to cure her, for that, she would have to be sent to St. Mungus, the
wizarding hospital. We could only prolong her life.”
“Could you have sent her there?”

Severus shook his head. “Muggles can’t be treated at St Mungus.”
“Don't call us that.” Her mum snapped and Severus nodded.
“You had no right doing any of that.” Her dad said, Severus nodded again. “Carrying that
piece of wood doesn’t give you the right to mess up with our minds and lives.”
“No.”
Her dad sighed. There wasn’t much to say when one side wouldn’t accept the apology and
the other wouldn’t regret the action. They could go around that over and over. They all knew
it was wrong. Hermione was fully aware how wrong it was. They had chosen the Grangers,
but they could have chosen any other family with another daughter of Hermione’s age. If it
hadn’t been the Grangers, Hermione would be in another living room with another family
having the same conversation. She was glad it had been the Grangers, she loved being a
Granger, she loved her mum and dad. And between growing up with them and growing up in
an orphanage or with the Dursleys, she would have picked them. Hermione could have grown
up with Harry, had they not taken her out, but she doubted that they would have stayed there
long. She would have never accepted the Dursleys' treatment.
“So what now?” He asked, “How do we move forward from here? We raised her, she’s our
daughter, but she’s yours too.”
And that was for her, she knew. They had no intention of sharing her, of letting another man
claim their little girl, but because she was her dad’s little girl, he was going to do this one
more thing for her.
Her father looked at her then, his expression cracking a bit when she let her Occlumency
shields down for him to see what was in her mind at the moment. I told them I want you to be
my father.
“She is.” Severus said, looking back at her dad.
“How do you intend to fulfil the position?”

Hermione cringed, she wasn't in a position where Severus Snape had decided to apply for the
opening of Dad Number Two. “Dad—”
“No, Hermione. The sentiment is nice, his words were pretty but will he be there for
whatever you need? A shoulder to cry? Any advice to give? Will you be able to go to him if
you need a new pair of shoes?”
“I will,” Severus replied. “My words were not pretty, they were the truth. I might not have
raised her as you did, but I watched over her all these years all the same. Everything I ever
did was for her.”
Don’t say anything about keeping me safe!, she threw at him. Hermione had no idea how
Legilimency worked in practice, but by the minimal wince he gave, Hermione was certain
that yelling in her mind wasn’t the way to go.
No, it wasn’t. He replied and she almost jumped in surprise at his voice inside her mind.
“Good.” Her dad said. For a second, Hermione appreciated that it was the dad position in
question, because her mum would have jumped at Lily’s throat, Merlin, she wouldn’t have
allowed Lily inside the house.
Her mum had made quite clear just how much she didn’t care about any of them. Hermione
knew she was terrified that her daughter would pack her things and never return. That a
brother, a father, two godparents and a handful of friends would make Hermione forget her or
discard her. It was then that Hermione regret spending so many summers and Christmas at
the Malfoys, because every opportunity to choose she had had since her letter, Hermione had
chosen the wizarding world.
“He wants to be a parent?” Her mum said then, her expression hard and her mouth set.
“Darling—”
“No, you spoil her even now.” She cut her husband off, “You want to be a father? It’s over a
thousand pounds per year to send her to that school of yours. You watched over her? Tell me,
what was the name of her primary teacher who was always picking up on her because
Hermione was a bit different from the other kids? We lost hours of sleep every time she fell
sick, we ran for medicine at the middle of the night. Everything you did was for her? Tell me,
how many times have you sat down after a long day at work and decided that you could go
without this or that because you wanted her to have that new book she really wanted? What
did you sacrifice? Tell me, where were you when she’d cry after a birthday party because no
friend had come?”
“Mum—”
“I would die before leaving my daughter to strangers, I would never give her up because a
parent knows that only her mother and father can love her like she deserves.”
“You are right. A parent knows and for that I made the biggest sacrifice. She deserved a
mother and a father, she deserved to be so immensely loved that I could only give her that.”
Severus replied, “And her primary teacher? Her name was Miss O’Conelly.” He added,
because he wasn’t a beaten dog who couldn’t bite back anymore.
“Fuck you!” Her mum snapped and left the living room.
There was no holding back tears after that. Hermione slouched on the sofa and hid her face
behind her palms.
“I understand and I respect her feelings,” Severus told her dad, “I know you are her parents
and I have no intention of replacing you, nor does Hermione. I want what Hermione wants.
Again, I respect your feelings, but I won’t respect your decision if it’s to keep me from her
life.”
“How could I? If she sees you more than she sees us.” Her dad told him bitterly. “Hermione
has a big heart and I know there’s space for us just like there’s space for you and the family
on the other side. I know she won’t love me any less by loving you and her mother knows it
as well, but can you blame it? A mother’s love?”
Severus shook his head, “No, I cannot.”
“Hermione is an independent girl, has always been, but she still needs to be cared for. She
will always have a home here with us, but I need to know she will have a home with you
too.”
“She already has.” Severus replied and Hermione thought back at her little room at his house.
“Mr Granger, your daughter is so very loved. I know we will always be the people who took
Amelia from you, the people you feel like are taking Hermione from you, but between me,
Remus and Narcissa, Hermione will never go without a home.”
“And that’s all a father needs to know.”
Severus asked her to leave for a moment, because he wanted to speak with her dad alone and
Hermione took the opportunity to find her mum.
She was in Hermione’s room, holding one of the many portraits she had on her dresser. She
didn’t look up when Hermione entered the room and sat down on the bed next to her mum.
“Oh darling, I was so proud of you for that letter. You were my special little girl, so brilliant
that you were magic. Even that they took from me.”
“But mum, they took that from me as well.” Hermione replied, “I know you feel like you lost
me, but I did too. I lost who I was.”
“You were mine.” Her mum said, “but I didn’t hold you when you were born nor did I teach
you how to walk, I didn’t hear your first words. You were mine but these are all things that
belonged to another woman. And I’m so incredibly jealous of her. Of a woman that is dead.”
“You taught me how to read and how to write. You taught me how to ice skate and the name
of the planets. I don’t remember Lily, but I will always remember you, mum.”
“The planets,” her mum repeated with a small laugh, so terribly broken. “Seems silly now,
when you can live with the moon and the stars.”
“Mum, it’s not a competition.”
“No, but if it was, we would have lost it.” She looked at Hermione then, ran a hand through
her hair, from her ear to the tips. “You think I didn’t notice, but I did. From the curls that
wouldn’t tangle anymore, the front teeth that I never got to put braces, to your first bra or pad
that I never got to buy. They have been taking you from me from the moment that letter
came.”
“I'm sorry.”
“Oh, darling, it’s not your fault. You were reading fantasies from the moment you learned
how to read, I could give you books, but they gave you the castle, the dragons, the mermaids,
the prince and all its soldiers.” Her mum choked in a laugh, “even the fairy godmother.”
“You know I never cared for the fairy tales and the princesses.”
Her mum nodded, “Remember when we watched the Little Mermaid together? I think it was
one year before you received your letter.” Hermione nodded, “You said that you would never
leave your home for a prince, but you would if it’d take you to learn about the things in your
grotto.” Her mum told her, Hermione didn’t remember saying that. “Your grotto is so full
darling, I know how much you love to learn and I would never destroy it like Triton did, but
by God, how do I resent it.”
“I'm sorry that something I love so much brings you so much pain.” Hermione said and took
one of her mother’s hands into hers. “I’m sorry that I chose them every Christmas and
summer.”
“But you don’t regret it.” Her mum said, “You resemble him, you know. Maybe that’s one of
the reasons it hurts too much, because I can see him in you and I can’t see myself anymore, I
can’t see your dad. But I see him in the way you don’t tremble on your feet anymore, I see
that other man when you love so ardently and I see that woman when you hold yourself high
and proud.” Her mum sighed, “I love you and I’m sorry too.”
“I know, I love you too.”
“Could you come home for Easter? We can try again then.”
“Of course,” Hermione replied. “And I will be here for summer if you have me.”
“Of course.”
They hugged and both squeezed one another hard.
She didn’t say it, but Hermione could still see herself in her mum, they both loved fiercely
and greedily, and neither would let go of the other, no matter how much that would hurt.
Severus took her to his house before taking her to Remus. He didn’t tell her what her dad
wanted and she didn’t ask. She lingered around in the living room as he magically took her
trunk to her bedroom.
“Can I?” She asked, pointing at the pictures on the mantelpiece. He nodded.
Hermione walked over and looked at each one of them. The first was with Lily. She knew it
was the one that came in the letter. Lily was holding her, Hermione still a baby in her arms.
Lily was looking down at her with the softest smile on her face and then showed the sleeping
baby to the camera. It was a lovely loop. The next three were muggle ones, they didn’t move
and Hermione recognised the background in all of them.
In the second picture, Hermione wasn’t alone, there was a group of another four kids around
her, maybe more, but the photographer - Remus most likely - had cut them out in order to get
a close up of Hermione. There was a woman who read a book for them. Behind the woman, a
colourful banner read ‘my first book club’ in bubble-like letters. “You were almost four
here.” Her father said, “Remus gave me the picture for your fourth birthday.”
“Did the two of you talk a lot during those years?”
“No.” Her father replied, “I saw him scarcely over the first four years. I went to his bookstore
when you were there, but after you turned six and he left, I didn’t see or speak with him for
years. It was only when you started Hogwarts that I saw him again.”
Hermione nodded and grabbed the third picture. It was also from the library, but this one was
of only her. She was holding two balloons in one hand. One balloon had ‘happy birthday’
written on it, while the other had ‘I'm five today’ on it. She was smiling at the camera and
showing off a book in her other hand.
The last muggle picture was again of only her, but this one had been taken in secret.
Hermione was sitting in an armchair in the corner of the bookshop, her feet dangling, her legs
not long enough to touch the floor. She had a book on her lap and her face was completely
covered by her hair. “There's a note behind it,” Severus said and picked up the portrait,
removing the photo from inside. He handed it to her.
She’s reading too fast for the ‘one book a month’ rule her mother created, so now she comes
and sits here for hours to read without having to buy them. My favourite client is now bad for
my business. And underneath it, crossed out, I love her so much, the godfather bond aches.
“Did it really?” She asked, “Hurt, I mean.”
“I don’t know. It’s possible.”
The last picture was again a magical one, this had been taken in the Manor, at the greenhouse
during Christmas in her first year, when Narcissa sent her to help him. It was a lovely picture
that caught the exact moment her father handed her a mortar and a pestle while Hermione
glanced up at him with a timid smile. So this was the picture Narcissa had given him. Ever
since Harry had mentioned the pictures, she wondered what they were and how Remus and
Narcissa had managed to capture moments of her life without her noticing it.
Hermione was still so angry with the Malfoys, so hurt by them. She knew, after all these
months and from what Draco had told her that Lucius had lied, that the contract was his nasty
way to get her angry the quickest and to make her hate him. But he had kicked her out, he
had sent her away with nothing on her. And Narcissa had let him. Just like Draco had done,
Narcissa did the same.
Her father had said how she would always have a home between him, Remus and Narcissa.
But how could that be true? She couldn’t return to the Manor.
We will always reach for you. Well Narcissa, it’s still all very quiet.
“You never asked me about what happened.” His father told her. He never failed to surprise
her with how observant he was. It seemed like nothing could ever escape him.
Hermione snorted, “I don’t care about what happened or why it happened. I care that it
happened. Lucius kicked me out and Narcissa let me go. I know they did it to protect me or
whatever, but they still chose the shittiest course of action.”
“I was to protect you or whatever,” Severus told her with a hint of amusement. Hermione
sighed. “If Voldemort knows they care for you, we are all in danger.”
She let out another sigh, this time a long one, “I think we are all in danger regardless, dad.”
He coughed and Hermione tried not to smile in amusement, it still knocked him out to call
him dad. He placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it, before guiding her to the dining
table.
“I want to speak to you about something.” He told her after they sat down. Hermione nodded
and watched as he Accioed a pile of papers. "Before going to your house, I had the
misfortune of sitting down and having a civilised conversation with Sirius Black about you
and your brother." She tried not to grin at the suffering in his tone. Between the two of them,
Hermione knew it was no exaggeration. "As it stands, I am your biological father, but I have
no legal rights over you and while Sirius is Harry's godfather, upon further investigation, we
found he's not actually Harry's legal guardian."
"What?" She asked, "Who is it, then?”
"Take a guess." Severus replied with a thin lip.
"Dumbledore."
"Yes."
"Last year when I called Sirius after Harry was called by the Goblet of Fire, I did it because I
thought he was, Sirius thought he was."
"Yes and since Harry agreed to compete before Sirius could forbid him from participating,
Dumbledore didn't have to disclose his deception."
"He's vile." Hermione said, feeling the hairs in her arm standing from the sudden cold she
felt.
"He's indeed many things. But Sirius has set out to make that right. And I, for you." He told
her, "That's what I wanted to speak with your father. I wanted to tell him of my intention of
officially recognizing you as my daughter with our laws and getting your custody."
Her breath caught. She had her answer didn't she? He wanted everything. Hermione looked
back at the pictures in his living room, thought back at the bedroom he had for her all these
years, "Okay." She replied.
"Hermione, you can think about it. I don't expect you to answer me straight away. It is a big
decision.”
"I know. I made up my mind ages ago." She told him honestly.
"You did?"
She nodded. "I want you in my life, I told you I want you to be my father."
"I am your father regardless of these papers and I would continue to be so were you to say no
to them." He told her, "this would change your status, you would no longer be a muggleborn
to the goblins at Gringotts, allowing you to open a vault of your own and I would be able to
stop any future machination in your name."
"I want it." She said. Hermione remembered how her parents were never informed on how
she almost died in her second year and had an undercover Death Eater make an attempt on
her life last year. She wanted someone to be able to tell Dumbledore no in her name.
Severus nodded. "This means changing your name."
"Oh." She said and it dawned on her, "oh." His reticence wasn't on her acceptance itself. "My
mother won't forgive me if we take my name from her."
"I know. There would be an addition to it."
Hermione nodded. Hermione Jean Granger Snape? Snape Granger? Would she hyphenate?
And the professors, would they--School. They wouldn't find peace once everyone learned
they were sharing a surname. "At Hogwarts, they--"
"No one would know of the change" He told her at once, "the professors would be informed
of course, but they would still call you Miss Granger. These matters are dealt with very
privately at Gringotts. Take James Potter for example, no one but his vault's goblin knew he
had adopted you."
"Oh. Okay." She said again, "I'm okay with it.”
He offered her a small smile, "Thank you Hermione, for giving me this." And before she
could make things awkward with an underwhelming reply, he continued, "However, it is not
only my name you would be carrying." He told her and her eyes widened.
"James."
Severus nodded once, "Sirius believes James is rolling in his grave from having his name
hyphenated to mine, but he got himself into that." He said and Hermione chuckled. Of all
possible groups of people to end up this entwined, the universe had decided on the one that
was bound together by hatred. "These are what Sirius got from his guardianship." He showed
her a few more papers, "There's a letter in the Potter vault that has your name on it. Griphook,
the goblin responsible for the Potter's vault, has informed that only you can have it, so once
we go to Gringotts you can read it."
She nodded, "what else do I need to do?"
"Since you are over the age of 14, you need to sign your consent to give me custody.
Wizarding laws don't usually care for muggle laws, so your muggle parents will still have
your custody in the muggle world," he explained and she grabbed the paper he handed her to
read. "Once you sign and it's officialized, I will give you an underage key to my family vault
where you will be able to keep things separately from the main family vault and you will also
have access to an allowance that I have set aside for you. There's a limit to the amount you
can withdrawal each time, but I believe it's enough for you to buy school supplies and have
some pocket money throughout the year."
"Thank you," she said. "You said that muggleborns can't have their own vaults, but I have
some from Lucius, where is it then?"
"Muggleborns can have vaults, but they have to go through a waiting list which is
ridiculously and purposely long, making muggleborns mostly decide to just exchange their
money as needed." He explained, "And your money from Lucius is in his vault. It's under
your name, so of course you can withdraw as you wish, but now you can keep it with you."
"I want to," she said. Hermione didn't want to have anything with Lucius.
"We can set it when we go there." He told her, "Sirius and I believe that the letter James left
you has some information about your access to the Potter vault as well, which--" he shook his
head slightly, "is quite ridiculous, as you will soon find out."
There were a lot of papers and the wording of it all was quite confusing, but Severus
explained everything she wanted to know.
It was only then that she learned Sirius and Severus were dealing with Gringotts behind
Dumbledore's back. The headmaster wasn't aware that they were taking Harry from him and
they intended to keep it that way, so urgency was essential. Once Hermione had given her
official yes, Severus and her took the Floo to Gringotts, Severus under the polyjuice
disguised as Remus, where they met Harry and Sirius. The latter was extremely displeased
with Severus wearing his boyfriend's face.
"This keeps getting worse and worse," Sirius muttered under his breath, but smiled widely at
her and hugged her anyway.
Harry laughed and despite what she assumed had been a quite traumatic experience, he
seemed well and content, "Shouldn't you be kissing your boyfriend hello?" He asked with a
smirk and Hermione snorted so loud that a couple of the closest goblins turned to glare at her.
Severus looked disgusted, while Sirius looked ready to retch. "I am about to adopt you kiddo,
you could at least refrain from making me rethink my decision before I sign the papers."
Harry only laughed, "You are not really adopting me" he replied with a shrug and turned to
say hi to her.
She hugged her brother tight, trying to convey how sorry she was for everything that had
happened with Arthur Weasley.
"Hey, at least we are about to be officially siblings." He told her with a grin.
"Which clearly means you two are about to be officially more annoying." Severus grumbled.
They exchanged smirks and followed the adults to where Griphook was. Apparently, he knew
it was Severus under the polyjuice because he didn't ask any questions.
They were taken to a room to the side of the main hall and as soon as the door closed behind
them, Hermione felt a rush fall upon the room. "A privacy spell." The goblin explained as he
took notice of the surprised expression on her and Harry's faces.
Things moved quickly, she and Harry had been debriefed of everything and the goblin just
had to cast the necessary spells on their signatures. It was odd, signing her name Hermione
Jean Granger Potter-Snape, for starters, it was a mouthful, and it still didn't feel like hers.
But now she shared a name with her brother and with her father.
James' letter indeed had instructions to the vault, among other things. He rambled. A lot. She
found herself snorting and chuckling as she read. He clearly loved her and she was certain he
wouldn't be rolling in his grave: Severus had given him the greatest gift.
Harry had one as well, and another from Lily. He was brought to tears before he opened them
and his hands shook so terribly that Hermione had to tentatively take them from him and
open them before handing them back. The letters had been in his vault the entire time. No one
had told him.
Hagrid had been the one to bring Harry to Gringotts the first time and he either didn't know
or forgot to mention, but there was more than piles and piles of gold inside it. No one voiced
what was in everyone's head: Dumbledore had kept the key. Dumbledore must have known.
Once the last piece of paper had been signed and Harry was officially free from
Dumbledore's grip, Hermione could feel only relief.
They left Gringotts a couple of hours later, Hermione had now two vault keys in her pocket
and the written authorization of a third. Hermione and Harry had equal shares of the Potter
vault and Harry was also the heir to the Black fortune. A fortune, that even after being split in
three differently sized parts - Harry, Hermione and Remus - was still quite a fortune. The
money she got from Lucius seemed silly now.
Hermione went home with her father, but she'd see Harry again tomorrow for Christmas at
Remus' place. Sirius now had the power to officially kidnap Harry from Grimmauld Place.
Hermione went to her room after she returned to Spinner's End. She cast a Silencing charm
before opening her trunk and removing Regulus' portrait from inside.
"This is quite unpleasant." He told her once she removed the cover. "I would much appreciate
it if you hung me somewhere."
"Well, no one knows about you, I can't exactly hang you up in my bedroom."
Regulus looked around. "This is new. I don't know where I am."

"Severus' home."
"Oh. You have a bedroom."
"I do." She said and then added, "We just returned from Gringotts. He officially got custody
of me and Sirius became Harry's legal guardian."
"Are you staying with him for Christmas then?"

"We are going to Remus' place tomorrow." Regulus' eyebrows shot up.
"Severus? Spending Christmas at Remus' place? I imagine my brother will be there as well."
"Yes." Hermione replied with a wince. "Harry and Theo will be there as well. The adults are
being civilised now."
Regulus chuckled, "There's not a single civilised bone in my brother's body."
"There is now." Hermione told him as he placed the frame on the bed against the headboard.
She sat cross legged in front of him. Almost like two teenagers gossiping in a sleepover "He
almost lost Remus." Hermione told him and then told him everything that happened the
moment Voldemort told Harry that Severus was her father.
"You know," Regulus said, he had one arm resting on the frame, while the other was upward,
his hand holding his chin, "years ago, more for you than for me, I wished Remus wouldn't
forgive him. I wished Remus would turn his back on Sirius and not look back like he did to
me. I wanted Sirius to know what it felt like to be left behind."
"I think he knows now." Hermione said. "Remus did leave him behind. Sirius spent thirteen
years in Azkaban because Remus believed he was a traitor."
"Yeah, that would be enough to change him."
"They have all changed." She told him, "Sometimes, I feel like the people you knew are not
the same as the people I know now." Hermione raised her knees and placed her arms around
them, hugging her legs. "I think, when Sirius returned, they both were transported back in
time and it hurt them, almost destroyed them. They are healing, Sirius especially and Remus-
-" she smiled just by thinking of him, "he's been so good to Theo and I."
"Who's Theo?"
"Theodore Nott. He's my best friend. One of them. My bestest of best friends."
Regulus smiled. "I had one of those." He said, "But Nott? I knew Adeodatus."
Hermione felt her face instantly hardening at the mention of Theo's father. "I hate him. Theo
does too. He wanted Theo to take the mark and sent the Carrow twins after him. Theo got out
because of Remus." She said and watched his reaction. Hermione remembered the entry to
Regulus' journal, how he wanted out and Dumbledore said no.
"Of course Remus got him out." Regulus said.

"Why didn't you tell them? That you didn't want in?"
"Mother wouldn't have let me go and I was afraid they would go after them. Sirius. James. I
was afraid of leaving my friends behind. I was the only one holding Sirius back, he had
James and Remus on the other side. I was afraid of leaving Barty and Evan behind. Dora had
left and it wrecked Barty, I--”
"When you say Barty…" Hermione began, her heart in her throat. "You don't mean Barty
Crouch Jr. do you?”
He tilted his head to the side and Hermione felt her heart drop at the small smile he gave her,
"Yeah, you know him?"
Hermione nodded.
"He's alive then? He's good?" She shook her head and despite her efforts, her bottom lip
began to tremble, "What is it?"
"He died last june." She told him and watched once more as his face fell. Barty had been
Regulus' best friend. "He tried to drown me. He--It's because of him that Voldemort returned.
He brought Harry to Voldemort and almost got Harry killed.”
Regulus was shaking his head, "No. Barty wouldn't--he--wouldn't. He wanted to join yes,
because his father was awful to him and he thought he--, Barty wasn't evil, he--”
"He changed." Hermione replied. Regulus was clearly upset, but she couldn't find in herself
to feel sorry for him. For the loss of whoever Barty Crouch Jr had been. "He knew I was
Severus' daughter and he made my life a living hell. He plotted to get Harry killed for an
entire year. He wanted me out of the way."
"Tell me." He asked her and so she did. Everything she learned from Barty as Moody and
how he escaped Azkaban and why he ended up in Azkaban in the first place. Regulus looked
haunted. "What about Evan? Pandora? Dorcas? Do you--”
She shook her head. "I don't know who they are. I never heard of them."
Regulus nodded, "Could you find out for me?" He asked her and Hermione nodded.
"It might not be nice." She answered.
He only scoffed in response, "Nice? Not nice would be finding out Barty went back to being a
homophobic prick. Finding out he went on to torture Alice and Frank, let his mother die in
Azkaban in his place and tried to kill you and your brother is a bit more than not nice."
"I'm sorry."
"I'm dead. And so is he now."
He turned his back and Hermione knew to leave him alone after that. Since he didn't have
another portrait, he didn't have anywhere to escape to.
She went to the living room, where her dad had lit the fireplace and was reading a book in the
armchair close to it.
"Do you mind if I join you?" She asked.
"No," he replied and watched as she carefully approached and sat down on the sofa close to
his armchair. "I got this for you." he said and handed her a book. "It's a new fantasy book, I
found myself quite enjoying it."
"Thank you," she replied and read the cover. It was black and purple and there was a big
golden compass in the middle. The title read Northern Lights.
She set to read and together they enjoyed a few hours of silence in companionship. He was
now her dad in every aspect of the word, as she was his daughter.
Chapter End Notes
Hello again!! As I've mentioned a few times before, I'm currently doing my master's
degree and I'm FINALLY finishing it, but for that I need help with my thesis! If anyone
has 5 minutes to spare (really, it's five minutes) please fill my questionnaire, it would be
an immense help as I need as much data as possible:
https://forms.gle/kKY266FiJLo6cUdY6
If you would be so kind I promise to repay you by posting the first extra by the second
week of April.
As always, you can find me on twitter it's moonyhoax
Let me know what you think of the chapters in the comments!!

we stand up tall and beat our chests
Chapter Notes
Hi!! thank you again for all the lovely comments and another special thanks for
everyone who took the time to fill my thesis' questionnaire! I had over 200 responses
and I much appreciate it!
This chapter is very light and Christmassy, despite we being almost done with March
lol.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!
Some excerpts were taken from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. They don't
belong to me.
Title and quote at the beginning is from Louis Tomlinson's Silver Tongues.
You know, it's times like these

We're so much happier
Nights like these
We will remember those stupid jokes
Chapter Fifty-Four
To say that she was tackled by Theo upon entering Remus' house wouldn't be an
exaggeration.
"Huf," she said against his chest as he squeezed her.
"It's been one week Theodore." Her dad said from behind them and she heard him
sidestepping the hugging at the threshold.
Theo pulled back and grinned at her, "You were the greatest thing that ever happened to me,"
he told her and Hermione's eyes widened in surprise.
"Jesus," Harry groaned, "that's why her boyfriend is jealous of you."
"What happened?" She asked.
"What boyfriend?" The three adults asked together.
Harry laughed and Theo retorted, "You are the absolute worst young brother ever."
Sirius made a small sound at the back of his throat, "that's debatable."
Hermione ignored the comment, as she was getting more and more familiar with said
younger brother. Harry, also intent on ignoring Sirius' comment, offered to take Hermione's
trunk to her bedroom.
"Come, I want to tell you the news." Theo said and pulled her down the corridor.
She only noticed the extra door the moment Theo stopped in front of it and pulled it open.
Hermione recognised the bed, but the sheets and duvet were new. They were in the same
Slytherin green from Hogwarts. There was a trunk at the end of the bed, she knew it was
Theo's because of the T. A. N. etched in it and the not added with a knife by Blaise in their
second year. There was also a dresser and a small desk with a chair and a pile of books on top
of it. Shoes were scattered and a sweater was carelessly thrown inside out over the chair. It
was Theo's.
"This is your room." She said, turning around to face him. He grinned and nodded.
"How many Hermione?" He asked with a lovely, lovely smile.
Again, she showed the same two fingers while he showed her three. "Tell me a secret, Theo."
"At the end of the summer, Remus asked me to officially move in. He wanted to give me a
place with him to call my own." She smiled at him and felt her heart expanding with love for
both Remus and Theo. "When I got here last week he--" his voice broke and it surprised her
that it was the first time she was seeing him cry. Or at least get close to crying. "He told me
family was something we could choose. That he would love to choose me if I let him."
Hermione gasped, "For real?"
He nodded. "Current laws don't allow werewolves to adopt, but he can apply for guardianship
if I consent to it."
"That's amazing Theo!" She said and hugged him tight.
"Thank you," he told her.
"I had nothing to do with it." she told him.
"If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have been close to him to begin with." He told her, "it is true
Granger, you are the greatest thing to happen to me."
She grinned at him and replied, "It's Granger Potter-Snape now."
"Do you realise that in theory we are brothers now?" Harry commented from where he was
leaning against the door. Neither had seen him arrive. "Sirius is officially my guardian, Sirius
and Remus are official again, Remus will be officially Theo's guardian. Therefore," he said,
pointing between him and Theo, "Brothers."
"Now… Thinking it through…"
"Oi, fuck off." Harry said and playfully shoved Theo to the side. "We all have our rooms
now." Harry commented, sitting in Theo's bed.
"How do they keep adding rooms to the house?"
"Magic," Theo shrugged.
"You should see the Burrow. It's brilliant." Harry mentioned.
Hermione looked at the pair, at the ease between them. It made her think of Regulus and how
he merely said 'of course Remus got him out' at the news of Theo escaping his father.
"Well Harry, since Theo has officially made it to our dysfunctional little family of strays,
what do you think of introducing him to our newest friend?" She asked her brother.
Harry grinned and Theo furrowed his brows in question.
"Here? With all of them down the hall?"
"They are trying to be mature or something," Hermione said with a shrug. "They won't come
in."
"Let's do it then, where is he?"
"In my trunk."
Theo's blue eyes fixed on her, "Please don't tell me you have someone else in your trunk."
"Someone else?" Harry asked.
"It's a long story," she told Harry, "and of course not." She added to Theo. "Let's go."
The three of them left Theo's room and were found by the three adults now in the corridor.
Sirius was the first to speak. "You look suspicious." He said, "The lot of you."
"An impression, I'm certain." Hermione replied sweetly.
"Why are you going to Hermione's room now?" He asked.
"To tell her all about my first time," Theo said with a shit-eating grin. "In detail." Sirius
spluttered and Harry snorted. Remus had to pat Sirius' back a few times to unlodge whatever
had caught in Sirius' throat.
"And about my first kiss." Harry added in an afterthought.
Hermione opened her mouth, "And my--”

"No." Severus said, "I'm not hearing it." He turned to Remus, "Congratulations. You got your
carbon copy." He said and Hermione noticed that Theo looked oddly proud at that. Still
shaking his head, Severus added as he walked to the kitchen, "I will cook dinner."
They didn't in fact talk about their sexual experiences.
After casting the necessary privacy spells, Hermione went straight to her trunk and removed
Regulus' portrait from the inside. And after the appropriate introductions and Regulus not so
subtly flirted with Theo, they told him their news.
Most definitely, it wasn't the Christmas evening he had planned, but because they were all
trying and Black had been mature enough to invite him, Severus could only be mature
enough to accept it. Less he let Black have one on him.
"They put up silencing charms," Remus noted as he and Black joined him in the kitchen.
"They are not actually talking about that, are they?" Sirius asked.
"I had that conversation with Theo during the summer." Remus shrugged and Severus at once
removed the mental image from his mind.
He decided to change topics, not willing to think on whether he should have that conversation
with his daughter or whether he could simply threaten his godson enough. It was very clear
who was the boyfriend “How did Dumbledore react to Harry being here?” Severus asked. If
summer had been any indication, Dumbledore wasn’t very keen on letting Harry stray too far
from the rest of the Order.
A scowl, “He wasn’t there.” Black said with contempt. “But Moody wasn’t pleased, neither
was Molly, but since Dumbledore didn't show his face, neither could say anything.”
“And how’s Arthur?” He asked, “I sent him a vial of a potion I’ve been working on against
snake venom.”
“Last I saw him he was still in a wheelchair,” Black replied, “but whatever you’ve put in
there worked something. Two days with your little juice and he was better than what St
Mungus had given him.”
“That's good.” Remus said quickly, as Black's tone had been too derisive to be a compliment.
He had taken to chop the vegetables while Severus dealt with everything else. There had been
a silent agreement that Black wasn’t to be anywhere near any sharp objects. Between
growing up in the Noble House of Black, living with the Potters and then thirteen years in
Azkaban, Sirius barely knew his way to the kitchen. “If Voldemort’s using his snake, we need
to have an antidote for its venom.”
Severus nodded, “I might have to go see him after a day or two. It’s a still very early draft
and he is my first test—”
“Molly would have you alive if she knew that,” Sirius muttered.
“—so his results are indispensable for future brews.”
Remus and Sirius hummed in agreement. There was an awkwardness between the three of
them. He and Remus didn’t have any problems spending time together, but he and Sirius
were trying very hard to not show they couldn’t spend time together.
Once they could hear the kids' laughter again, Sirius jumped at once, going after them, using
their secrecy as an excuse to leave.
“She's annoyingly good with that spell.” Severus mentioned after Sirius could be heard
laughing along with them. “She used it in my place yesterday. I think she’s hiding
something.”
Remus chuckled, “Don't be paranoid. She’s a sixteen year old girl who has a lot going on at
the moment, maybe she just wants some privacy, to feel she’s in control.” He commented,
“She's yours and Lily’s, Merlin knows how much the two of you were desperate for control.”
Severus sighed, but he wasn’t going to disagree. “She's getting too comfortable with secrets. I
wish she hadn’t gotten that from me, but she has.”
“It’s good that she has.” Remus retorted, “Because while she has secrets and knows how to
keep them, she also knows how to trust us with them. She knows to come to us if it’s needed.
We just have to return this trust,”
“Fatherhood has made you wise,” Severus commented and Remus snorted.
“Am I insane for it? For wanting to take Theo?”
“You are insane for a multitude of reasons, but not for that.” Severus said. His throat felt dry
and his chest constricted. He thought of his classmates and the ones in the year below him.
All of them Sacred Twenty-Eight and all of them either dead or in Azkaban. “The thing with
Slytherin and with boys like Theo, who came to this world with their surnames first, is that
their only choice is to play with the cards they are given, while silently hoping someone
would give them an entirely new game.”
“He reminds me so much of—”
The sound of the door kept Remus from continuing, but Severus knew what he was going to
say. They listened as the sound of four pairs of feet came down the corridor into the living
room.
“These were all in the attic,” Black was saying. “But I figure they are still good. I didn’t have
time to go buy more, but it’s no excuse to continue being boring.” Someone snorted at it,
“come on, pick your colours. I will go for black, obviously, but I’m sure there’s brown still
somewhere, Moony always fancied that one. Your dad was more of a black polish kind of
guy as well, but he liked to do his pinkies in a different colour.”
“Are they—” Severus began confused.
“Painting their nails, yes.” Remus continued.

“I never did my nails,” Hermione said, confirming Remus’ guess. “Pans and Daph always
paint theirs, but I never bothered to.”
“That won’t do kiddo. Painted nails are what separate you from the masses.”
“But isn’t it a girls’ thing?” Harry asked.
“Oh lord, I have failed you as my godson,” Sirius said, only slightly exaggerating. “It's
everybody's thing Harry. And it works wonders with the ladies… and the fellas.”
“He’s telling the truth at least.” Remus said with a shrug.
“But the best part of painting nails is that we always do each other’s while gossiping. That’s
the most important thing. Painting your nails is sacred gossip time.”
“And there goes the truth…” Remus sighed.
The main dish was in the oven and there was nothing left to be done in the kitchen, but a
single look between them was enough of an agreement to remain in the kitchen, especially
because the conversation in the living room was getting too detailed.
“—we didn’t try anything at the dormitory,” Theodore was saying, “because we felt too
awkward even with the silencing spells, but once we found about the Room of Requirement,
well..”
“Ew!” Harry and Hermione echoed, "we train there!” Harry added.
“It wasn’t actually there there, we asked for a place and the Room gave it to us. It was quite
lovely, actually.”
“I can’t believe we never found that room during our time. I could swear no one knew the
castle as well as we did.” Sirius muttered, clearly upset about being upstaged. “Not that the
dormitory was ever a hindrance to us—” Severus watched as Remus' paleness took to a
rosiness, “Peter slept like the dead and James would also cast his own spell in case we forgot
ours.”
“You have it easier though,” Harry said, “because you share a dormitory with Blaise and you
two also shared. I’m not even in the same house as her!” He said and Severus rolled his eyes.
“He has Voldemort in his head and he sounds exasperated because of a girl,” he muttered and
Remus agreed with a chuckle.
“Yeah, it’s a bit trickier,” Sirius agreed, “but it’s manageable. See, my first first time, I had to
not only find a way to sneak Mary to the boys’ dormitory but also time it when no one was
there.”
“You did it with a girl?” Theodore asked, almost scandalised.
“Yeah, I was a bit late on things, you know? It took me a while to notice I liked Moony, so I
dated Mary for a bit. It was nice of course, she was very nice, lovely pair of breasts—“
“Sirius!” Hermione reprimanded, while the boys laughed.
“Good lord,” Remus muttered and opened the cabinet where he stored the alcohol. Silently,
he offered to Severus, who nodded.
“Maybe that’s the true reason why Mary left,”
Remus snorted, “I slept with her as well.” He told him. Severus could have remained
unaware of it. “So you might be right.”
“—but I remember thinking she was too soft, like her skin and her curves. To touch Remus
over his clothes did more to me than a handful of tits.”
“SIRIUS!”
“I'm sorry Hermione,” Sirius chuckled.
“That’s how you knew then?” Harry asked, “That you liked guys too?”
“That I liked Remus. It’s always been Moony for me.” Severus felt slightly sick from hearing
it, especially because whatever was going on in Remus’ expression was quite pathetic. “But
as I said, I was slow. I was dating Mary but didn’t want Moony to see us together and I was
so absurdly jealous of—” he made an unintelligible sound and moved on, “Remus had done it
with a guy and it was when it finally clicked for me, because I couldn’t bear to listen about
it.”
“The two of you were really quite pathetic back in the day.” Severus commented.
“Oh please, as if you have any say on the topic.”
“But I want to know about you three. How’s the love life going?”
“I had my first kiss after our last D.A. meeting,” Harry confessed.
“You didn’t tell me!” Hermione complained,
“Who was the unlucky witch?” came from Theodore.
“I didn’t exactly have time!” He answered his sister, “But I kissed Cho, well Cho kissed me,
but yeah I kissed Cho and—Yeah, I kissed Cho.”
“How was it?” Sirius asked, as if he too was a fifteen year old boy.
“He is worse than them.” Severus commented.
Remus sighed and carefully placed his glass back on the kitchen counter. There was
something in Remus’ eyes that Severus didn’t quite like. “I had the talk with Theo, because
I’m committed to the responsibility of being a father for him. I talked to him, I explained
things and gave him advice, because that’s the role of a father. Sirius, he won't have that
conversation with Harry. He's going to be highly inappropriate, tell him details of his first
time and give him tips, and that's it. He's not ready to be anyone's parent, much less Harry's.
And besides, he loves James too much to take that role from him, even if Harry needs it."
"He won't let me," Severus replied and by Remus' immediate smirk, the truth dawned on him
at once.
Remus hadn't suggested anything. He could have been merely mentioning something that
both knew to be true, or he could be even implying that he Remus Lupin would be taking
Harry as well. It made sense, after all, he was dating Harry's guardian, he had been Lily's best
friend when Severus so disastrously lost that position.
But Severus himself saw Harry as his responsibility as well. He couldn't exactly pinpoint
when and where his promise to keep Harry safe for Lily had turned into keeping Harry safe
for Harry. Merlin, he couldn't even pinpoint the moment he stopped thinking of the boy as
merely Potter.
Could he take James Potter' son? He was barely out of the woods with Hermione… Forget
that, he worked for the one person who wanted Harry dead more than anything and anyone
else. As long as Voldemort was alive, Harry wouldn't be safe with him.
"I--"
"Is there anything ready? I'm starving." Harry asked, cutting Severus off and thankfully
ending the conversation he was not ready to have.
"A couple of more minutes and the turkey will be ready with the rest," Remus said as he
messed up Harry's hair affectionately.
"Cool." He replied and added, "Sirius said that you might have some board games and that
we should play after dinner."
Remus nodded, "There might be some in the attic, I don't remember, I haven't gone up there
in ages." he tapped his right knee, "Creaky bones."
"We can go up there to check. Theo and I never played a board game before. Hermione said
it's a crime."
Severus felt the clench in his heart. Hermione was right as always, it was a crime, but for
different reasons. Everything that happened under the Durley's roof was a crime.
"We will rectify that then," Remus said with a nod, "Can't go on without a good Monopoly
run."
Severus rolled his eyes at that.
"Are you staying too?" Harry asked him.
He could only nod.

Christmas dinner went without any problems, the teenagers carried most of the conversation,
updating all of them on what they had learned at those secret meetings of theirs. Honestly,
Severus thought it would be better if he hadn't listened to any of that. Theodore and Harry
went into detail about the first Quidditch match of the season. Severus was still quite pleased
with the win that he even put some more stuffing onto Theodore's plate.
Later, when they were stuffed and each boy carried two plates of pudding to the living room,
it was time for the board games. Hermione and Sirius went up to the attic and the pair came
down with three different boxes. He had to admit, he hadn't seen some of those games in
years.
"I refuse to play that," He said once he noticed the black Pictionary box.
Remus snorted while everyone else but Hermione looked at him confused.
"I'm not its biggest fan either," Hermione said with a small smile. "But I guess Sirius would
be amazing at it. Blaise too, if he were here."
"Good Godric," Remus said with a smile as he caught the boxes from Hermione and put the
black box to the side, "I think we can start off simple, maybe Trivial Pursuit?"
"I love that one!" Hermione said with a grin.
He almost snorted, "of course you do." He said and Hermione's cheeks reddened at that.
"We can play it in pairs, so it's not as long and the weak links can have some help," Remus
suggested.
"Are you calling me a weak link?" Harry asked, just slightly phased.
"Of course not." Severus replied with a bit too much sarcasm for a Christmas' Eve, "It's Black
the problem. Pureblood and thirteen years indisposed, I doubt he can answer a single question
from any category."
"Indisposed!" Theodore repeated and almost had to Occlude to hide his amusement. A fellow
appreciator of good humour.
Sirius scowled at him and angrily murmured something in French. He caught Hermione and
Harry exchanging a knowing look and both siblings tried very hard to wipe the smirk of their
faces.
While the adults were seated on the mismatched furniture, the three teenagers were on the
floor around the centre-table. He didn't understand why having Hermione's back against the
upholstery of the armchair he was in next to his legs meant so much to him, or why it made
him wish to have her leaning against him if she felt tired.
He doubted his father ever felt like this towards him, Tobias only ever seemed to want his son
as far away as possible, would often send his son away by means of throwing the nearest
object at Severus' head. It had been a long and painful day when Severus' magic started to
deflect the flying objects.
Severus shook his head. Tobias had been dead for a long time and he would never be like his
father.
Next to him, Sirius Black was occupying the entire sofa by being splayed on top of it, with
Harry sitting cross legged against it. And across from Severus, Theodore was sitting much
like Hermione, but with Remus.
Harry seemed to have been doing the same inspection because he huffed and shook his head,
"No, no, no." he said. "This won't do. The two of you won't play together."
"Why not?" Hermione asked.
"I might have never played but I know the rules pretty well! Dudley had me read them for
him and his friends every time they played, you leave me with Sirius and we will be stuck on
how many countries are there in Europe."
"Hey!" Sirius complained, "I had tutors growing up, you know? I know it's thirty-four,"
"It's forty-three." Hermione corrected and Harry groaned loudly.
"What the hell??" Sirius asked. "When?"
"The fall of the Soviet Union," Hermione said, "back in 1991."
"I want Hermione on my team!" Theodore announced.
"I know how many countries there are in Europe, Theo." Remus said with a sigh. "And
besides, I'm pretty sure this edition is old enough to follow Sirius' tutoring lessons."
"I don't care," Harry said, "Switch up Hermione, you will be with Sirius and I will be with
your dad."
Sirius Black had never looked so betrayed. Not even the madman printed on every Daily
Prophet cover during his arrest was a match for now.
Breakdown diverted by Hermione assuring Sirius she would make them win, Remus set out
to explain the rules of the game and what each colour meant.
By the time Theodore read "How many seconds must a cowboy stay aboard a rodeo bronc?"
Everyone was pretty certain they had zero chances of ever finishing the game.
Hermione had had a lovely Christmas, filled with laughter and surrounded by some of her
favourite people. She had grown anxious by the end of the night, when she felt her father
tensing next to her and the small gasp of pain he let out during the last moments of Risk, right
before they were about to conquer everything. She had known what it meant before he even
got to his feet briskly. He had behaved the same that night by the maze's entrance.
Voldemort had called him.

Games and laughter had ended as he left, and Remus and Sirius put the three of them to bed
like they were toddlers.
Hermione had sought Draco the moment she entered the train back to Hogwarts and all but
jumped at him the moment she saw his white-blond hair. He looked so tired, his shoulders so
tense that it took a few moments of her embrace for him to relax.
Draco squeezed her and their friends made quick work of pushing them inside an empty
compartment and standing guard at the door.
"Are you okay?" She asked when she managed to pull away enough to look at him. "Severus
had to leave and he only had time to tell me he was going to the Manor."
"I'm alright." He said, "I wasn't privy to any of the meetings. Mother wouldn't allow it,
but…" he swallowed, "I saw him. Voldemort, I mean. He was there, he--Merlin Hermione,
he's terrifying. I have no idea how my Occlumency shields held. I have had a terrible
migraine for days now. I couldn't allow a single second of thinking of you."
"You are here now," she said, feeling her eyes water, "You are here with me."
Someone knocked on the compartment's door, "time's up lovebirds," Blaise called. "Draco
has to go off and be dark and twisted now."
"You are not," she said lowly, tipping her forehead against his, "you are not dark and twisted
Draco Malfoy."
"I love you," he told her and she felt her heart fluttering, "Let's meet tomorrow at the Room
of Requirement, alright?"
She nodded and before she could say it back, Draco was through the door and gone.
The first day back to classes came and went, by the time she went to bed, the contentment she
had felt throughout the Christmas holidays was truly gone. Sirius had given them for
Christmas two pieces of glass mirror that were connected, making them able to communicate
with one another whenever they wished. Sirius had used it with James so they could still have
contact during the summers when Sirius’ parents forbid him from sending letters.
“Hermione!” She heard from her bedside table.
“Why on earth am I hearing Henry’s voice right now?” Pansy asked from the bathroom.
“Harry! What’s wrong?” Hermione replied picking up the mirror and finding her brother
hidden inside his four-poster bed, momentarily ignoring Pansy due to the agitation in his
voice.
“Can you cast a silencing spell? I need to tell you something.”

“Hey! You can’t gossip from the inside of our dorm and not expect us to listen!” Pansy
retorted, her nightly routine forgotten now that her focus was to Harry.
“Hey Pansy, how was your Christmas?” Harry asked, Hermione paid attention to his
expression, it was both amused and shy at the same time. “Give me five minutes with my
sister and then you can have the attention back to yourself, I'm certain you have a lot to share
with them.”
Pansy huffed, but Hermione saw the way her cheeks turned crimson before she banged the
door to the bathroom closed.
The other girls were watching everything with unveiled curiosity. “I will be right back,” she
told them before closing her curtains and casting the silencing spell.
“Alright.” Harry said, “All good?”
“Yes. What’s wrong?”
“I had my first Occlumency session with your dad,” he put air quotes into first. It was the
first one that Dumbledore knew about. “He told me that Voldemort is now aware that I am
gaining access to his thoughts and feelings.” Hermione felt cold all over. This was the last
thing they needed right now. "Voldemort has also deduced that it might as well work the other
way around, as in him having access to my thoughts and feelings in return.”
“No, Harry, this is—“
“Terrible, yeah I know. Severus spent fifteen minutes drilling how important it was that we
worked harder on it.”
“How was it? The class?”
“Fucking painful.” Harry confessed with a grimace. “I will probably have a headache for the
rest of the week, but that’s unfortunately not the worst thing.”
“What?”
“I felt him again. Voldemort. Just now. He’s happy, Hermione. It was the worst pain I ever
felt, for a moment I thought my head would split in too. His happiness hurts a lot more than
his anger. I swear everything became black and I couldn’t even remember my own name,
much less try to close my mind.”
“What did you see?” She asked, gripping the edges of the mirror as if she was gripping Harry.
“Nothing. Just this—Jubilant, ecstatic, triumphant feeling. I laughed with it Hermione. Ron
didn’t tell me, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t my laughter he had heard.”
“Oh, Harry. I’m so sorry.” She told him. He looked quite run down, his face was still a bit
pale and there was sweat on his forehead. Even his scar looked a bit reddened. As if new.
“How are you feeling now?”
“My body aches. I think that between Voldemort’s and your dad’s probing harder than ever,
I’m exhausted.”
“I have a morning class with him tomorrow, I can tell him about your vision so you don’t
have to. He might have some tonic or other that can help.”
“Thanks.”
“Rest, Harry. We can think about what that means tomorrow.”
“I will-- just—gonna start on the new journals I got from Grimmauld and then go to bed. Use
it as a distraction.”
“Good idea.” She said and prepared to lay down on the bed, turning to the side still holding
the mirror. “Good night, Harry”
“Good night ‘Mione.”
In the next morning, Hermione didn’t have time to go to her dad before she learned why
Voldemort had been so happy the night before. The newspaper on the table in front of them
had for its first page ten black-and-white photographs. Nine showing wizards’ faces and a
single one showing a witch’s. Hermione knew that one.
Draco had gone even paler and his body tensed so hard she thought he would snap right there
at the breakfast table. His aunt
The pictures were moving of course, some of the people in the photographs were silently
jeering; others were tapping their fingers on the frame of their pictures, looking insolent. The
worst part was that each picture had not only their name, but their crime. Antonin Dolohov,
read the legend beneath a wizard with a long, pale, sneering, twisted face, convicted of the
brutal murders of Gideon and Fabian Prewett.
“They were Molly Weasley's twin brothers.” Pansy supplied.
Augustus Rookwood, was the next one. A pockmarked man with greasy hair who was
leaning against the edge of his picture, looking bored, convicted of leaking Ministry of Magic
Secrets to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
“His nephew was in Ravenclaw up to a couple years ago, remember him?” Daphne asked and
Hermione nodded.
“I've heard of Mulciber,” Theo said, “He and Dolohov invented half of the curses the Death
Eaters use.” Ceagan Mulciber, was the fifth wizard on the page, after Atkins Travers and
Bellatrix Lestrange. She wasn’t the only Lestrange. Two others were there, Rabastan and
Rodolphus.
Bellatrix’s picture caught her attention. Hermione had seen pictures of the woman before,
both in the papers last year when she was researching about Barty Crouch, but also in the
Black family tapestry Narcissa had. In the newspaper, she had long, dark hair that looked
unkempt and straggly, a far cry from the sleek, thick, and shining hair from the tapestry.
Bellatrix glared up through heavily lidded eyes, an arrogant, disdainful smile playing around
her thin mouth. Her smile was nothing like her sister’s, but Hermione couldn’t help but
notice, just like the other Blacks, she could glimpse at great good looks behind all of the dirt
and grime from years in Azkaban.
And of course, her crime: convicted of the torture and permanent incapacitation of Frank and
Alice Longbottom. Neville’s secret out for the world to know.
The pictures caught their attention first, obviously, but after the first shock, the headline
brought fury to her eyes.
MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN MINISTRY FEARS BLACK IS "RALLYING

POINT" FOR OLD DEATH EATERS
“They can't honestly blame him!”
“He was the first to escape,” Blaise pointed out, “and some family members have now
escaped. It’s either him or Fudge admits You-Know-Who is back.”
Hermione wanted to crumple the piece of paper and throw it at the Minister’s head. She
wanted to scream, she wanted to take her loved ones far away from this whole thing. She
wanted another week, month of board games by the fireplace and her family around her.
“He's been pardoned, this is ridiculous!” Theo said.
“Yeah, and my dad was never charged with anything but that never kept the minister from
raiding my house in search of Dark Artefacts.” Pansy retorted. “They will question him and
because now he has been restored as heir, he has access to the necessary resources to prove
he has nothing to do with this.”
“Listen to this,” Theo continued, his anger slowly matching hers, “We find ourselves, most
unfortunately, in the same position we were two and a half years ago when the murderer
Sirius Black escaped, nor do we think the two breakouts are unrelated. An escape of this
magnitude suggests outside help, and we must remember that Black, as the first person ever
to break out of Azkaban, would be ideally placed to help others follow in his footsteps. We
think it likely that these individuals, who include Black’s cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange, have
rallied around Black as their leader. We are, however, doing all we can to round up the
criminals and beg the magical community to remain alert and cautious.”
“Their leader?” Hermione scoffed, “Honestly, if the Minister doesn't want people thinking he
was weak, he is doing a poor job out of it. Sirius still receives fan mail from his release,
women throwing themselves at him offering to help him raise Harry,” she scoffed again, this
time just by remembering some of the absurdity written on the letters. “Fudge can’t expect to
throw the blame on everyone’s sob story and be successful in his endeavour.”
“He's been hitting first place at the Witch Weekly’s Bachelor of the Month since his pardon.”
Daphne laughed, “I bet all those readers and avid voters are writing their complaints as we
speak.”
“Salazar bless the tabloids.” Blaise joked.
Hermione blinked.
She just had the best idea.
Chapter End Notes
If anyone is curious, the games Remus had were: HeroQuest, Monopoly, Trivia Pursuit,
221b Baker Street, Risk.
Can you imagine how terrible purebloods like Sirius and Theo would be on a simple
trivia game? Disastrous.
I think I can get the next chapter next week, I have all of it drafted already, just need to
connect the monster
You can find me on twitter is moonyhoax

maybe we'd get through this undefeated
Chapter Notes
Hello!! how have you all been?

As always thank you so much for all the lovely comments! I still can't believe this fic is
close to 200k hits. It feels insane that so many of you would want to read (and keep
reading) this work.
The title and the quotes in this chapter belong to Are you bored yet? by Wallows
I don't own any of these characters. Some excerpts were taken from Harry Potter and the
Order of the Phoenix
I'm still thinking,

let's pretend to fall asleep now
'cause we could stay at home
and watch the sunset
Chapter Fifty-Five
Hermione was certain that January would always be the most chaotic of months at Hogwarts.
This time the winter term began with Educational Decree Number Twenty-Six, which banned
all professors from giving students any information that is not strictly related to the subjects
they are paid to teach. Hermione was certain it had to do with Harry's Occlumency lessons.
Another change was that now every Divination and Care of Magical Creatures lesson was
being conducted with Umbridge present. How she attended her own classes, Hermione didn't
know. Well, she almost wanted to investigate just to find Umbridge using a Time Turner.
Hermione would love to see the woman arrested by the very Ministry she worked for.
Her letter to Skeeter was sent in the evening of the very first day of classes, she even
borrowed Draco's eagle owl to go faster and to be sure it wouldn't be intercepted. Umbridge
wouldn't dare to stop a Malfoy owl.
Another change, one that Hermione was equally curious and amused by, was that now twice a
week every Quidditch team had to practise together. School unity or something like that.
Hermione knew it was the Head of Houses joining forces through their houses against
Umbridge.
Their meetings with the D.A. resumed and it was invigorating to see that everyone had
returned with a renewed determination. The mass escape had affected a lot of students. Some
more than others. And none more than Neville.
Pansy, once more, was showing extreme empathy. While Neville worked relentlessly on
every new jinx and countercurse Harry taught them, she was always next to him offering help
and advice, to which he listened with his plump face screwed up in concentration. They were
practising the Shield Charm and Neville was the second to master it. Hermione being the
fastest.
It had been so weird, casting the Shield Charm. Hermione had never felt anything similar.
The spell seemed to come effortlessly and while everyone else needed to do the necessary
movements, her want seemed to know what to do instinctively. But when she did do the
movements, her shield was so big and so strong that she managed to hold off three stunners at
the same time.
Hermione was torn between telling her father and keeping it to herself. A single glance at
Harry told her that he was thinking the same: she had been his shield that night.
They had learned the moment they entered the wizarding world that Lily's love sacrifice had
saved Harry, but they hadn't had any visible proof of that, they were merely babies. Her
shield was real and tangible. And very much visible.
After that lesson was over, most members left, but a few of them remained around, sitting in
a circle on the cushions and chatting amicably. Hermione was between Pansy and Theo, the
latter next to Blaise and the former next to Harry. Ron was on Harry's other side with Neville
and Luna on Blaise's other side.
The boys were ranking their Defence teachers and Theo was listing all the reasons why they
should invite Remus to teach everyone how to cast the Patronus charm in a few weeks.
“You know,” Luna started in her dreamy voice. Hermione automatically elbowed Pansy to
keep the girl from rolling her eyes, “I know that Moody was evil and all that. Really mean
most of the times, but he was always very nice to me.”
Hermione frowned, the expression mirrored in the strange assortment of people. Barty
Crouch Jr nice? “What do you mean?” Hermione asked. Certainly, the Ravenclaw had a
different notion of nice. It wasn't nice drowning fifteen-year-olds. Or sending them straight to
Voldemort through an illegal portkey.
She remembered Regulus' words about his friend, saying that everything Barty did was a bit
more than not nice.
“He would sometimes ask me to stay behind and ask me questions. How I was doing, if I had
friends, things like that. He also stopped any attempts to play a joke on me by the others.”
Hermione’s frown deepened. That was actually really nice.
“Luna,” Harry called, he had the voice and expression of someone who already knew the
answer to the question he was about to ask. “What was your mum’s name?”
“Merlin,” Pansy snorted, “be more random, will you?”

Luna smiled wildly, clearly happy with the question. Hermione doubted that anyone had ever
asked anything about her family. She was certain they would be in for a shock if people like
Ron, for example, found out her dad was Lucius Malfoy’s estranged brother.
“It was Pandora,” Luna said warmly.
Harry smiled a bit and Hermione saw him running a finger on the spine of the book he was
holding. No, not a book. Of course. Regulus’ diary. He knew something. “He was friends
with her at school, Luna. That was why he was being nice to you.” Harry told her. Everyone’s
eyes widened in surprise, some looked disgusted by the piece of information. Unable to
process the idea of Barty being nice. Or even having friends at school.
Luna didn’t seem revolted or even upset, she was seemingly happy to have found some new
information about her mother.
Hermione looked between Harry and Luna. They had that in common. Satisfied with
whatever scraps they got from their late parents. Harry, even with Regulus' portrait, was still
keen on reading every journal the youngest Black brother had left behind. He even got the
remaining ones from Grimmauld Place. And Luna, content to know her mother had been
friends with a deranged person.
Neville got up abruptly and left. His parents. The smile dropped from Luna’s face and she
grew conflicted between going after Neville or asking Harry for more.
Ron got up and went after Neville, and Pansy - for all the good that would do - went after
him as well.
Luna turned to Harry, a little expectant, and - surprisingly - shy asked, “How did you know?”
“I found Sirius’ brother’s journal. He wrote a lot about his group of friends. He mentioned
some girl named Pandora a lot. She was a couple of years older than him and his classmates,
a boy named Evan and Barty Jr. Apparently, every time Sirius' brother and Evan lost Barty,
they just needed to find Pandora or the other way around."
Luna nodded, “At least my mum didn’t live to see what happened to her dear friend.” She
said and got up, “I will go find Neville as well.”
They watched her leave, and now their group was reduced to Harry, Hermione, Blaise and
Theo.
"I think I know who Luna's mother was," Theo said. "Pandora Lestrange. Never agreed with
the blood purist views or any view that her family had. She met Lucius' older brother and
both of them changed their surnames when they married, neither wanted to carry their family
past."
"How do you even know that?" Harry asked.
"My ancestor was the one to create the Sacred Twenty-Eight. I was drilled with bloodlines
every day for years before Hogwarts. I vividly remember learning how to write by writing
down their names."
"That's so disturbing."
"It wasn't the most disturbing thing though," he said with a shrug. "And by the way, you are a
Black as well, did you know that?"
"Yeah, Sirius made me an heir not even two weeks ago."
"Not that." Theo rolled his eyes, "Your father's father's maternal genitor was a Black."
"Can't you say my great-grandmother like a normal person?" Harry asked exasperated.
"Whatever." Theo shrugged. "But I remember checking during Christmas break in the first
year. Your great-grandmother was Dorea Black, sister of Pollus Black who was the father of-
-" a smirk, "Cygnus Black III, Alphard Black and Walburga Black."
"Walburga?" Harry and Hermione asked at the same time. They knew that name.
"Exactly. So that makes you…" he counted on his fingers for a moment, "Sirius, Regulus,
Narcissa, Bellatrix and Andromeda's second cousin once removed and Draco's third cousin."
Harry's green eyes seemed to want to explode out of their sockets. "I don't even know
whether to be more impressed with your knowledge of the Black family or horrified that I'm
Draco's cousin."
"Third." Blaise shrugged, "that's hardly family. You could date him if you wanted. It's more
distant than Sirius' parents, they were only second cousins."
"Merlin, shut up Blaise." Harry and Hermione said at once.
January seemed to be passing alarmingly fast. Before they knew it, February had arrived, and
the snow had started to melt, making the grounds wet and slippery. Pansy was the first to
master the necessary transfiguration to change her shoes into wellies.
Blaise's mother made the news twice between the end of January and the beginning of
February. Her latest husband - the Brazilian from the Amazon - had died from poisoning.
Apparently, his herbology study had taken him. She had been appointed the Potions professor
at Castelobruxo in his place.
"Just in time for the school year, isn't it?" One of the Carrow things called, "I think it's a
curious coincidence, don't you think so Zabini?"
Blaise ignored her.
But Hermione suddenly remembered a comment that his mother had made during their last
summer: If all goes well, I will have a teaching position at Castelobruxo in January.
Blaise didn't like when people made comments about his mother and her many late husbands.
Especially their suspicious deaths. Now all six of them.
Thankfully, everyone was easily distracted with the news of the next Hogsmeade visit which
would fall on Valentine's day. Draco and Hermione wouldn't get to spend it in Hogsmeade,
but they had their plans for later.
And Hermione also had a meeting with Skeeter, who had readily agreed to write a story for
her. Her sudden disappearance had gotten her fired from Witch Weekly and the Daily
Prophet.
She arranged with Harry to meet him at two, so he had time for his date with Cho. The whole
thing between them was weird and confusing. Especially because Harry had confessed to his
first kiss during Christmas and somewhere during January Cho and her girlfriends had taken
to looking at him like he was some sort of sex god. Pansy had been uncharacteristically quiet
about the entire thing.
As it turned out, Harry and Cho's date didn't go well. Hermione tried not to laugh as he told
her about what happened. She could understand of course, and even felt sorry for the girl, but
her brother's lack of tact and depth was hilarious.
Harry wasn't so amused, in fact he was less than amused when he saw she was with Skeeter -
and Luna - at the Hog's Head.
"Hermione?" He asked confused as he sat down.
"I will explain in a minute." She told him, right before snatching that Godforsaken quill from
Skeeter's hand. "You will only write what we tell you to. Harry's love life is none of your
business. I will be keeping this for the afternoon." She said, holding the Quick Quill in her
hand.
She was trying not to look too hard at Skeeter, for the hair that had once been set in elaborate
curls now hung lank and unkempt around her face. The scarlet paint on nails was chipped and
there were a couple of false jewels missing from her winged glasses. Hermione wouldn't care.
Skeeter got what she deserved after everything she did.
“Pretty girl, is she, Harry?”
“One more word about Harry’s love life and the deal’s off and that’s a promise,” Hermione
snapped irritably.
Skeeter shut her mouth. But she dared to scowl a second later, “Oh, one of these days...”
Hermione rolled her eyes, “Yes, yes, one of these days you’ll write more horrible stories
about Harry and me,” she retorted with a shrug, “Find someone who cares, why don’t you?”
Skeeter's scowl deepened. “They’ve run plenty of horrible stories about Harry this year
without my help,” she shot. “How has that made you feel, Harry? Betrayed? Distraught?
Misunderstood?”
Hermione glared. “He feels angry, of course,” Hermione said, channelling her best Snape's
dead tone. “Because he’s told the Minister of Magic the truth and the Minister’s too much of
an idiot to believe him.”
“So you actually stick to it, do you, that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back?” The woman
placed her glass back on the table, “You stand by all this garbage Dumbledore’s been telling
everybody about You-Know-Who returning and you being the sole witness— ?”
“I wasn’t the sole witness,” Harry cut her off. There it was. “There were a dozen-odd Death
Eaters there as well. Want their names?” The divider.
She knew one of the names. Could she do it? Yes, but would she? Yes. Maybe before the
silent treatment, before being kicked out, she'd ask Harry to keep quiet about him. But not
now. He'd let Voldemort inside his house with his son and wife.
Lucius didn't deserve her covering for him. She hoped Draco would understand.
“I’d love them,” Skeeter breathed, her eyes snapping to Hermione as if finally understanding
why Hermione had written her offering a scoop. “A great bold headline: ‘Potter Accuses...’ A
subheading: ‘Harry Potter Names Death Eaters Still Among Us.’ And then, beneath a nice
big “photograph of you: ‘Disturbed teenage survivor of You-Know-Who’s attack, Harry
Potter, 15, caused outrage yesterday by accusing respectable and prominent members of the
Wizarding community of being Death Eaters...’" The Quick-Quotes Quill was quite literally
vibrating in excitement in Hermione's hands. “But of course,” she said, lowering the quill and
looking daggers at Hermione, “Little Miss Perfect wouldn’t want that story out there, would
she?”
Hermione smiled. May Narcissa Malfoy forgive her for the misuse of the Malfoy Trademark
Bastard Smile. “As a matter of fact,” Hermione said sweetly, “that’s exactly what Little Miss
Perfect does want.”
Skeeter stared at her. So did Harry. Luna, on the other hand, sang, “Weasley Is Our King”
dreamily under her breath and stirred her drink with a cocktail onion on a stick. Hermione
doubted she was even listening to them.
“You want me to report what he says about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?” Skeeter asked

Hermione in a hushed voice.
“Yes, I do. The true story. All the facts. Exactly as Harry reports them. He’ll give you all the
details, he’ll tell you the names of the undiscovered Death Eaters he saw there, he’ll tell you
what Voldemort looks like now — oh, get a grip on yourself,” she added contemptuously,
throwing a napkin across the table, for at the sound of Voldemort’s name, the insect of a
woman had jumped so badly that she had slopped half her glass of fire whisky down herself.
“The Prophet wouldn’t print it. In case you haven’t noticed, nobody believes his cock-and-
bull story. Everyone thinks he’s delusional. Now, if you let me write the story from that angle
—”
“We don’t need another story about how Harry’s lost his marbles!” Hermione retorted
angrily. “We’ve had plenty of those already, thank you! I want him to be allowed to tell the
truth!”
“There’s no market for a story like that,” Skeeter argued coldly.
“You mean the Prophet won’t print it because Fudge won’t let them,”
Skeeter gave her a long, hard look. Then, leaning forward across the table toward her, said,
“All right, Fudge is leaning on the Prophet, but it comes to the same thing. They won’t print a
story that shows Harry in a good light. Nobody wants to read it. It’s against the public mood.
This last Azkaban breakout has got people quite worried enough. People just don’t want to
believe You-Know-Who’s back.”
“So the Daily Prophet exists to tell people what they want to hear, does it?” said Hermione
scathingly.
Skeeter sat up straight again, her eyebrows raised, and drained her glass of fire whisky. “The
Prophet exists to sell itself, you silly girl,” she said coldly.
“My dad thinks it’s an awful paper,” Luna said. Hermione hadn't noticed she had stopped
singing. Sucking on her cocktail onion, she gazed at Skeeter with her large eyes. It wasn't the
same shade as Draco's. But the hair… “He publishes important stories that he thinks the
public needs to know. He doesn’t care about making money.”
Skeeter scoffed so loudly in a terribly rude manner. “I’m guessing your father runs some
stupid little village newsletter?” she said. “‘Twenty-five Ways to Mingle with Muggles’ and
the dates of the next Bring-and-Fly Sale?”
“No,” said Luna, dipping her onion back into her gilly water, “he’s the editor of The
Quibbler.”
This time it was her snort that was offensive. "Important stories he thinks the public needs to
know’?” she asked witheringly. “I could manure my garden with the contents of that rag.”
“Well, this is your chance to raise the tone of it a bit, isn’t it?” Hermione asked pleasantly.
“Luna says her father’s quite happy to take Harry’s interview. That’s who’ll be publishing it.”
Skeeter curled her nose, but in the end, she had no other offer and so Harry began his tell-all.
On their way back from Hogsmeade Hermione saw something that turned her entire body
into heavy rock and her throat burned as if the last butterbeer had come down her throat way
more bitter than usual.
"Are those…" Blaise asked, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging.
Because it was. Hermione clenched her teeth and at once a foreign feeling took over her. It
wasn't the jealousy she felt when she saw Draco kissing Pansy those years ago. But it was
jealousy, all the same, she recognised at least that.
The way Hermione traced with her eyes where their hands touched and their bodies inclined
towards one another. That was jealousy.
But the coldness of fear running through her veins, the sudden desperation that she would
wake up one morning to a Daily Prophet headline but this time with her father as the latest
victim, the panic that he would be taken from her before she had a chance to learn how to
properly love him.
"I think I'm going to vomit," Blaise muttered and his hands were against his mouth.
"He can't date her," Hermione said, not even realising how cold and full of rage her tone was.
Oh, but Blaise had. "What do you mean by that?" he asked, turning to her with narrowed
eyes.
"It's your mother!" She said,
"I'm well aware," he replied, "but I don't appreciate your tone talking about her."
"My tone?" Hermione asked, nervous laughter bubbling out of her. "You know what happens!
She--she--" Hermione struggled, "she can't have him. Not him. She can find someone else to-
- to--"
"To what, Hermione? Say it." He said, glaring at her. "Words never missed you."
"You know what she does Blaise. I won't let her do it with my father."
"You are my best friend Hermione, how can you say something like that? You, who have had
rumours and gossip about yourself and your family since you arrived!"
"It's not the same! We all knew those were all lies! But your mum--"
"They are all rumours as well!" he said, anger rising and for a second, neither were the people
they had been moments ago.
"Blaise, please!" Hermione snorted. "Once an accident, twice a coincidence, three times a
pattern, six is a bloody serial killer!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms up.
Blaise stepped back, angry and probably hurt, but she was also fuming and vibrating with the
need to protect. She could feel it, the shield, the same feeling that had taken over her during
that D.A. meeting. "You are way out of line. It's my mother you are talking about. My
mother. I won't listen to injuries towards her even if it comes from my best friend. Goodbye,
Hermione."
Theo hesitated as they watched Blaise storm away, "Hermione--"
"You know she did it Theo."

"We think we do."
"They all end up dead Theo, how does he explain that?"
"I don't think he does. Because it would mean his dad as well." Theo said with a sad shrug, "I
will go after him."
Hermione nodded and once Theo was gone, she felt the tears burning in her eyes.
Nneka and Severus were long gone from view.
"So…" Draco started, "Do you want to talk about it?"
Hermione closed her eyes. She was laying on the rug with her head against his leg. He was
shirtless as she was and the mention of Blaise had her missing the planes of his chest and his
perfect skin. Another reason to stay angry.
"I'm allowed to feel upset." She said.
"You do. As does he."
Hermione sighed and opened her eyes again, His grey ones were heavy on her. "She killed all
of them, Draco."
"I know."
She sat up and leaned close to him, their legs touching. She put her hands on his neck and
almost instinctively he dropped a kiss on her forehead.
Draco kissed her head again. He didn't say anything else and Hermione quietly enjoyed his
kisses. He had a fondness for the juncture of her throat and shoulder, smattering kisses there
every time he could.
Almost as if reading her mind, he said, "You have me on your shoulder." He murmured and
Hermione was momentarily confused, for she had him carved on every inch of her body, but
as she felt his tongue following her freckles to the shape of his constellation, she understood.
She let out a moan so wanton that had her cringing in embarrassment, "No." He said as she
tried to hide her face from him. " His eyes were dark and he pulled her on top of him by her
sides, placing her on his lap, "Don't hide from me."
Hermione looked at him, seeing only unmistakable affection, his gaze so loving that
Hermione could even pinpoint the moment the thought of loving her crossed his mind. This
close she could not only see each speck of blue in his grey eyes, but she could also hear his
heart, the thud-thud-thud inside his chest. Her own clenched and it wasn't painful, but
bittersweet, because she realised now, there was no more falling to be done between them.
They've landed and they loved each other.
He leaned in slightly, just enough to kiss her lips again. Hermione couldn't help but smile as
he did so. He kissed softly and as if he had all the time in the world to do what he wanted.
His hands never left her hips as they travelled up her sides, meeting the fabric of her bra. It
had been off her up until half an hour ago. With his left hand still on her thigh and his right
open on her back, his thumb played with the clasp of her bra.
There was no doubt about what was the question behind those eyes of his and she only
nodded, amusement at his eagerness and seemingly fascination with her breasts. The bra
straps fell off her shoulders and Draco slid them through her arms, his fingers leaving
goosebumps on her skin.
Hermione straightened her back and rested her weight on her right arm, angling her body just
so. The thing about being irrevocably loved by Draco Malfoy was that it gave her a boost of
confidence. He loved every part of her and Hermione never felt more beautiful than when his
hands were on her.
"Kiss me," he asked and she smirked, perfected and patented by then.
Hermione skipped his lips, going to his throat instead. He groaned and Hermione knew by
then that his skin didn't taste like mint and apples like his mouth, but the small trace of sweat
pooling where his shoulder meets his neck gave a completely different flavour. She had been
very scientific in her first experiment.
Everyone knew Hermione was an avid learner, a scholar, so when her kisses travelled from
his throat to his Adam’s apple, she noticed him swallowing and she catalogued the finding,
when her tongue found his earlobe, Hermione faintly noticed his grip hardening on her hips
and the hint of something poking her through his trousers. But a potion's master daughter
couldn't skip steps, so she didn't dwell on that, not yet, not when her full concentration was
on the pale skin of his collarbones and the different sounds he made.
She was a fast learner and she already understood that if she bit him here, he would groan and
if her tongue traced this bit of skin here, the hairs on his body would stand.
“Will you stop teasing?” He groaned and she smirked again in the middle of another
experiment, this time just above his nipple.
Hermione looked up and her breathing caught in her throat, he looked possessed, beautifully
possessed. Draco grinned something wicked and grabbed her by the mess of her hair, arching
her neck to his liking and sucking a mark there that they both knew he intended for it to
bruise.
Hermione wasn't the type of getting poetic during those moments, she usually left that to him,
but Draco's hands were on her breasts and his lips on her chest, just above the frantically
hammering of her heart and nothing could dissuade her from believing that her heart wouldn't
be full of Draco’s fingertips if one could see it right now.
Later, when they found each other tangled together in yet another position, Hermione finally
confessed her fear behind her outburst with Blaise.
"I don't want to lose him before I get the chance to love him." She said.
Without the need for clarification, he replied. "It's Severus, love," Draco said. "Sometimes I
think he will outlive us all."
"Don't say that." Hermione snapped. But she tugged his arms around her tighter and pressed
her back against his chest.
He stayed quiet after that and it was a moment before he spoke again. "It was the first time I
saw him be truly afraid." He told her, and Draco didn't need to say any names. Only one
person managed to get that tone out of him. Devoted and disappointed at the same time. "I
remember when I was younger before you came along and made a place for yourself at the
heart of our Manor, how he'd tell me how great the Dark Lord was and how our place in this
world would be recognised. That changed, Hermione.”
"Your father still believes the same things he did before. He hasn’t changed.”
“No, but his methods have. Talks of greatness became talks of caution. He no longer wishes
for me to carry the same mark he has on his arm and he’s growing desperate that I might not
be able to escape it.”
“I won’t allow it, Draco.” She said vehemently. Hermione took hold of his left arm, running
her thumb over the pale skin, unblemished and perfect. She kissed it, from his wrist to the
inside of his elbow. “You belong to me.”
Draco held her, his thumb doing the same movements on her arm as she had done on his
wrist. “He will learn to fear you, but until then—”
“No.” She shook her head, “We can do something. We will do something. We can take you
away, as we did with Theo. You—”
“Love,” he called and Hermione felt her eyes brimming with tears. This was supposed to be a
lovely day. Not whatever this was, “They are out now. All of them. If I go with you…I fear
what may happen to my mother.”
Hermione swallowed. “Your father would never let any—”
“No, he wouldn’t.” Draco agreed, “And he’s volunteering to lead missions, to recruit people
from the Ministry, he’s going deeper and deeper so the Dark Lord doesn’t look at her or me.
He will wear that mask so my mother doesn’t suffer for it.”
“I hate it, I hate all of this.” She said, turning her lips to his palm, kissing it.
They had taken Theo away, Blaise was safe, and both Pansy and Daph were also safe. Why
couldn’t she guarantee his safety? Why couldn’t she snatch him away? Hermione felt
powerless and she absolutely hated it. She knew now that he wouldn’t leave, that differently
from Theo, who didn’t have anyone, Draco would never leave if it meant his mother and
father were in danger.
Dumbledore was no help, he hadn’t been when Regulus needed it, Hermione was no fool that
he would be different now. Her dad had enough on his hands, but she knew he would try to
help if she asked.
She looked at him, “The two of us.” She said, a promise.
“The two of us.” He echoed. Draco pulled her to his lap, making her turn around and his lips
made quick work of her throat. “Do you want to know how my Occlumency shields held? I
spent the entire holiday dreaming about how you taste, imagining your touch and hearing
your voice.” His mouth was hot on her ear.
Her back arched unconsciously and he smirked against her skin, his hands holding her waist
no doubt leaving scorch marks on her skin.
When his hands found their way to her for the third time that evening, she went gladly.
It wasn’t easy no, while they waited for Harry’s story to appear on the Quibbler, twice
Hermione considered the merits of sending both Vince and Greg to the Hospital wing for a
prolonged stay, and once she used the Invisibility Cloak to steal two sleeping draught from
her father’s supply while he was busy with Harry’s Occlumency lessons to do just that. She
and her friends deserved a break from those two.
Blaise still wasn’t speaking with her, which was harder than Hermione thought possible. She
had never gone without speaking with Blaise. He had been her first friend in Slytherin and
his absence was painful and unsettling.
The obvious choice would be to apologise, but every time they looked at one another in class
or during meals she felt more ashamed of her reaction.
“You could start by admitting that you are shitty at dealing with being wrong,” Pansy
suggested one morning, after running into Blaise on the way out of the dormitory where he
only glared at her and kept walking without offering her a chance to even open her mouth.
Hermione didn’t have much experience being wrong. She had no idea where to start
correcting her mistake.
“Or by holding yourself as accountable as you hold others.” Pansy continued. The raven girl
had offered to go to the Owlery with her and Hermione should have guessed it hadn’t been on
the kindness of Pansy’s heart.
Being slapped by the truth and surrounded by owl droppings wasn’t how Hermione wished to
start her morning.
“I will fix it. Today.” Hermione said, fixing the letter on Draco’s owl's leg. “Send this to
Lucius Malfoy. Don’t be seen by no one else.” She told the owl, which hooted in reply. The
bird looked offended by the comment.
“Why are you writing to Mr Malfoy anyway?”

It had been Regulus' idea actually. They had told his portrait of the interview and Regulus
thought it would be funny to let Lucius know. Keep him on his toes, payback from what he
had done.
“Luna told me Harry’s piece on the Quibbler will be out tomorrow. I’m sending him a
reminder to buy tomorrow’s edition.”
Pansy reacted to Harry’s name, and Hermione pretended not to notice. Her friend had not
made a single comment about Harry and Cho’s short-lived relationship, but Hermione would
have to be blind to not notice that there was something different in Pansy since the news
broke out. Only Hermione hasn’t decided whether it was a good or a bad difference.
Before Hermione could ask Pansy about it, the girl called her Prefect duties - neglected and
delegated - and disappeared somewhere between the Owlery and their next class.
Sighing, Hermione walked to Ancient Runes running her apology in her mind. Professor
Babbling was letting them work on their own for the translations and Hermione was quite
ahead with the whole thing. She knew Blaise was too.
As expected he was already there, sitting in a corner and glaring at the other students - a
handful of Ravenclaws - daring them to sit near him. He glared at her as well, but she was
determined.
“Go away,” He told her as she sat down.
“I'm sorry.” She said, “I was terrible and wrong and mean and I’m sorry Blaise.”
“You were all of that.”
“And now I’m just terribly sorry. I got scared. I had a lot of things being taken from me these
past few months. I reacted badly.”
“I know.” He said.
“I'm a terrible friend.”
He scoffed, “One mistake doesn’t make you a terrible friend, Hermione. At least now I know
you are really human.” She looked down, her eyes burning with the sudden urge to cry. “I
wrote to mum you know, a lengthy one about how I wouldn’t forgive her if a sudden death
befell my best friend’s dad.”
“Blaise—”
“You were wrong though,” he told her, “Father died in the first war. And Husband Number
Three, I was the one to do it.” Hermione’s eyes widened at the confession. “It was in a burst
of underage magic, but it wasn’t uncontrolled. He had raised his hand to my mother one too
many times and I wished it to be his last and then it was.”
She didn’t know what to say. Hermione hadn’t been expecting a confession to murder when
she came to apologise. Dumbly, what she came up with was, “But the Thestrals—”
He snorted. “I could always see them.” He told her. “Husband Number Four bred them. I
learned about them before I got to Hogwarts.”
“Why didn’t you say anything when Theo and I saw them?”
Blaise shrugged, “I knew what seeing them meant, I knew we would learn about them. I
didn’t want anyone to wonder what death I had seen.”
“I'm sorry Blaise,” Hermione said and reached for his hand. “I really am. For everything.”
“I know Granger.” He told her with a small smile, “You've been giving me those sad brown
eyes for a week now.”
“That's quite enough.” The professor called loudly and they both jumped in their seats, “the
two of you can continue your conversation in your Head of House’s office.”
“Professor—” Hermione tried,
“Out!”
“Fucking hell,” Blaise dropped his head once they were outside, their bags on their shoulders,
“we will have to explain to your dad why we were kicked out of class.”
Severus didn't follow the school gossip, but when it came to his daughter or her brother, he
couldn't resist. He knew Hermione and Nneka's boy weren't speaking and Harry and his little
girlfriend had broken up. The romance didn't bother him much, but whatever had gotten
Hermione and Blaise Zabini to be glaring at one another did.
Thankfully, he could always count on his daughter to deliver, because, during his one free
period that day, he had the pair in his office with a detention slip from Bathsheda for talking
and disrupting class.
"What now?" He asked.
The boy didn't reply, but he didn't know Occlumency and Severus was tired.
"Dad, don't!" Hermione shouted desperately and put a hand before Blaise's eyes.
Severus blinked.
"You were going to go inside my mind?" Zabini asked, affronted but now avoiding eye
contact.
Severus didn't need eye contact. He had seen it all.
He Occluded, lest he be seen blushing like a schoolgirl at being caught.

He looked at the pair, both embarrassed at their predicament. Severus scratched his temple.
Hermione would definitely send him to an early grave.
"Mr Zabini, could you please leave us." He said.
The boy shook his head, now even more affronted, "It’s my mum you are banging, I will be
staying." He replied and pulled a chair to sit down.
Hermione did the same, the pair had matching expressions of defiance.
Severus was certain an aneurysm had just burst.
He watched the scene and it was like a dagger had been forced through his chest. Had Sirius
Black not noticed? Hermione was the same brand of Slytherin as Regulus had been. Acerbic
and lethal. Next to her, Blaise Zabini was a less volatile version of the person Barty became
in his last years when Evan had finally grown a pair, Salazar's snake, Theodore had Evan
Rosier as a blueprint.
"Don't--" he began, still shaken by the realisation. The past was the past, neither of them
would have the same end as Regulus and his friends. "Don't talk about your mother like that.
Show some respect."
The boy only scowled and thankfully decided to keep the retort inside.
He turned to his daughter, whose accusations were still a sore topic to her friend despite his
acceptance of her apology. "My life is not in danger with Nneka, Hermione." Zabini turned
his nose at his mother's name. Severus hated that this was a conversation he now had to have.
I bet that's what she said to all of them Hermione thought a bit too loudly. He narrowed his
eyes on her. At least she had the sense to not accuse Nneka of murder in front of her son
again.
"Nneka and I--" Blaise's entire face contorted, "we are--acquaintances--"
"Oh please!" The boy said, "We are in this situation right now because we both saw you with
your tongue down--"
"That's quite enough!" Severus snapped. "Don't you think for a second you have liberties
with me because of my relationship with Hermione? I am still your professor and Head of
House. I do not need to explain myself to you, do you understand?" He asked, his voice cold.
"It's my mother." Blaise seethed.
"So you vent your complaints to her." He retorted. "You will not speak to me like that Mr
Zabini and you can return to my office tomorrow for your detention. Now leave."
"Yes, sir."
Blaise left but banged the door in his wake. Severus sighed.
"Really, Hermione? Six times a serial killer?"
She had the sense to look sheepish, but there was no regret there. "Well, technically it's at
least four events that take place at different locations and are separated by a cooling-off
period." She shrugged, "And often sexually motivated." Her tongue was a vicious thing.
"I met Nneka at that Yule Ball during your first year." He told her, "But our acquaintance was
something from last year's Yule. She's going to marry again, and it won't be me."
Hermione frowned. "Why her?" She asked. "If--you know, why--" She huffed in frustration,
her sentence forsaken.
"If it bothers you I can put a stop to it." He told her. What he had with Hermione, what he
was so desperately trying to build, was much more precious to him than his agreement with
Nneka.
She looked at him and he knew she was considering. "Do you like her?"
Severus almost smiled. Such a simple question. Hermione was still so young. "Not enough."
He replied.
"Is she really not going to try to kill you?"
He did smile then, even allowed a chuckle. "My dear daughter," he began fondly, "I'm a spy
for Voldemort, do you really think I'd enter any sort of relationship with a woman rumoured
of murdering her husbands without making sure she couldn't try?"
Hermione smiled and it warmed his heart the sight of it. The relief he could see there. Oh
Merlin, he was doing this right.
"Why would any man marry her? Knowing what she's capable of?"
"Men are shallow. There's a thrill in being involved with a woman like her. They like to think
they are going to be the one she doesn't kill."
"And they are willing to try?" She asked eyes widened.
"There's no limit to what a person can do in the name of the ones they love." He told her,
"Look around darling, what have they done for love?"
He knew she would understand his meaning, she was surrounded by them. From years of
marriage like Lucius and Narcissa to years of devotion like Remus and Sirius, and even the
young, untested love between her two best friends. Hermione knew.
"Sacrifice." She replied and he was surprised to see she did so behind a shield of
Occlumency.
…
Severus saw the blond hair before dinner and frowned. Lucius hadn't informed him that he'd
be visiting.
The man since getting his position as a member of the board back felt entitled to visit
Hogwarts as he wished. His first visit had even Minerva's frown of approval. Severus had
watched quietly as Lucius Malfoy entered the staff room in his best robes carrying
authorization from the Minister himself to follow up on an anonymous tip. The way he broke
that blasted quill in front of Umbrigde’s face and threatened her to do something worse if she
dared to use it again as she blabbered an excuse had been Lucius' best contribution to the
school since he got the job years ago.
Umbridge had simpered when he told her she had disappointed him, that he would have to
reconsider his recommendation of her substituting Dumbledore.
This time, however, he found Lucius conversing with some of the oldest Slytherins, talking
about internship opportunities after graduation. Severus hoped it was in the Ministry.
"Mr Malfoy," he greeted.
"Professor Snape." Lucius replied, "just the man we were talking about." He motioned
between him and the small group of students. "What a promising bunch you have in your
hands, please schedule them for an hour with me at their earliest convenience. Our world
would appreciate having them on our side."
So much for an entry-level position in the Department of Travel and Transportation.
"A vision you have indeed," Severus replied sarcastically, "Of course. My office if you have
a moment? We can discuss your availability."
Lucius smiled, it was merely a sword. "Competence," he said to the boys, "we need more
competent wizards out there. If you excuse us."
"Of course, Mr Malfoy."
"Thank you, Mr Malfoy."
Severus turned in the direction of his office, Lucius next to him.
"I didn't know recruitment was open," Severus commented.
"There’s a rising dissatisfaction with current staff," Lucius replied and greeted a sixth-year
student with a nod as they passed.
"It was expected after years of insalubrious housing." Lucius chuckled, "After you." Severus
said, opening the door to his office.
“Your daughter sent me a letter,” Lucius commented once inside.
“Really?” Severus asked, dreadful at the news, “it was my understanding that she was not on
speaking terms with either of you.”
“So you can imagine the surprise it was to find a letter from her this morning.”
“Very surprising indeed.”
“Cissy was quite upset she didn’t get one, but considering the contents of the letter, I don’t
think she would have appreciated it.”
“The day you say anything without taking three laps around it is the day I die.” Severus
sighed and Lucius chuckled.
It hadn't escaped Severus' notice that Lucius was in an unsettling good mood.
“Don’t be morbid, Severus. The day you die will be the same as mine. The moment we cease
being useful.”
Severus scowled, “who’s being morbid now? What did Hermione write? I don’t have all
evening.”
Lucius' expression showed that he disagreed, but complied at last. “Asked me to buy that
piece of garbage that brother of mine calls a newspaper. Something about me is going to be in
tomorrow's edition.”
Severus felt a headache coming. Not a single moment of peace.
“Did she say what?”
“Oh,” Lucius chuckled, “she did.” The man removed a piece of parchment from his robes and
handed it to Severus, “read it. I do miss her terribly.”
Dear Uncle,
You might find yourself wanting to expand your morning reading tomorrow as I know nothing
pleases you more than being the quintessence of things. May I suggest The Quibbler?
I won’t ask for forgiveness for you haven’t asked mine regarding the small thing of almost
getting me killed in the second year by slipping a book in Ginny Weasley’s cauldron, or
almost making me suffocate as I ran out of the Manor after you kicked me out.
You told me once you don’t look for innocence, but for plausible deniability. Well, uncle, I
hope you have a lot of trouble plausibly denying what we said in the interview.
And one last thing, you can keep this letter for safekeeping.
Good lord.
“She didn’t miss a single opportunity. I’m truly curious as to who wrote the piece. Hermione
clearly has a gift for writing. If this letter was on the Quibbler I would have to stop leaving
the paper around for the elves to use as their bedding.”
“What does she mean here in the end?” Severus asked. He had an idea, he just hoped he was
wrong.
“Brilliant, isn’t it? She referred to our last conversation. She told me then that standing next
to the man casting the spell didn’t make me innocent. And I told her I didn’t look for
innocence.” He explained. Lucius was smiling. “By telling me to plausibly deny it, I know
she’s talking about my unsavoury hobby.”
“She’s saying on the print that you are a death eater and you are smiling.”
“Oh Severus, I told you I’m terribly fond of her. Her telling me to keep the letter for
safekeeping? She’s mocking what I said to her before kicking her out. I dragged our last
conversation and I told her it was because I wanted to have another one for safekeeping.”
And for the first time, Severus believed.
Lucius Malfoy was many things, but not someone who would ever harm Hermione.
He tried to enjoy his breakfast but the amount of letters falling in front of Harry was
alarming. The owls were jockeying for a place, some on his plate, others on his goblet, a few
had even perched on his friends around him.
Severus leaned over to Pomona, "you don't subscribe to the Quibbler, do you?" He asked.
She shook her head, "of course not. Why would--Oh," she paused, finally seeing the scene
around Harry, "what has he done now?"
And wasn't that the question?
Septima, on Pomona's other side, spoke, "Look, you are about to find out."
Umbridge was walking towards the boy. It was possible her entire attire looked worse from
behind.
But thankfully, Harry and his Gryffindor friends weren't so far down the Gryffindor table that
Severus couldn't hear what was happening. And also Pomona cast the same spell Narcissa
loved to use to overhear distant conversations.
“Why have you got all these letters, Mr. Potter?” Umbridge asked slowly.
“Is that a crime now?” Fred Weasley replied loudly. “Getting mail?”
"I love that boy," Pomona commented with a chuckle.
“Be careful, Mr Weasley, or I shall have to put you in detention,” said Umbridge. “Well, Mr.
Potter?”
Harry hesitated, but only for a moment. “People have written to me because I gave an
interview,” Harry said simply. A shit-eating grin on his face. That boy looked so much like
James Potter. “About what happened to me last June.” He glanced up at the staff table then,
and Severus followed the boy's gaze to Dumbledore, who was pretending not to pay
attention.
"Never a boring day with him, that's for certain," Pomona said.
“An interview?” repeated Umbridge, her voice thinner and higher than ever. “What do you
mean?”
“I mean a reporter asked me questions and I answered them,” said Harry. Severus closed his
eyes. He needed to reread some biology books. Nurture was being a bit too strong with him
“Here —” they watched as he threw the copy of The Quibbler at her. She caught it and stared
down at the cover. With sickening fascination, Severus watched her pale, doughy face turn an
ugly, patchy violet.
“When did you do this?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly.
“Last Hogsmeade weekend,” said Harry.
Umbridge looked up at the boy, incandescent with rage, the magazine shaking in her stubby
fingers. “There will be no more Hogsmeade trips for you, Mr Potter,” she whispered. “How
you dare . . . how you could . . .” She took a deep breath. “I have tried again and again to
teach you not to tell lies. The message, apparently, has still not sunk in. Fifty points from
Gryffindor and another week’s worth of detentions.”
On the other side of the High Table, Minerva thundered.
Septima scowled. "A shame he's not in my class, I'd have given him fifty points back by
merely raising his hand."
Pomona smiled. "He is in mine."
By mid-morning enormous signs had been put up all over the school, not just on House
notice boards, but in the corridors and classrooms too.
BY ORDER OF The High Inquisitor of Hogwarts

Any student found in possession of the magazine The Quibbler will be expelled. The
above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-seven.
Severus snatched one from a student just so he could read it.
There, in bold letters, the headline took 3 years off his life: HARRY POTTER SPEAKS OUT
AT LAST: THE TRUTH ABOUT HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED AND THE NIGHT I
SAW HIM RETURN.
He was going to kill the pair of them.
"Minerva!" Severus called the woman. An entire day of classes had passed and the boy was
nowhere to be seen. He knew Umbrdige had given him more detention, but she didn't have
the authority to snatch the boy from classes. Not yet anyway.
"Yes, Severus?"
"Where's Harry?"
"Suddenly ill. Gravely if you ask me. He will have to be in the Hospital Wing for at least a
week. Very unfortunate."
"What? Since when?" he asked and if the sudden desperation in his tone surprised her, she
didn't show.
"Since Poppy gave him something. It looks nasty, but he's perfectly fine." She explained. "I
couldn't allow the boy to have another week of detention, I doubt Lucius Malfoy would prove
himself to be capable one more time, not when Hermione is not involved." She gave him a
pointed look. He ignored her. "Merlin knows what she would have for Harry this time,"
Severus dreaded the same. Umbridge hadn't shown any qualms with one of the
Unforgivables, he doubted she would with another.
"The thing is Minerva, Hermione is involved this time as well." He hissed. "Lucius was here
yesterday, wasn't he? He came with a letter from her. Hermione told him to buy the
Quibbler."
"Oh Severus, you have your hands full, don't you?" Minerva snickered and he glared at her.
"I will be speaking to your student now."
"Please don't remove any more points from him, Merlin knows we are terribly behind as it
is," she said with a sigh as she waved him away.
"Why would I? He's been getting points left and right today."
They were, of course, forbidden from mentioning the interview by Educational Decree
Number Twenty-six, but Severus saw that they found ways to express their feelings about it
all the same. Pomona, as promised, awarded Gryffindor twenty points because the boy passed
her a watering can when she asked; Filius informed them during one of the breaks that he had
given Harry a box of squeaking sugar mice. His favourite one. Apparently Sybil cried and
told the entire class that the boy wouldn't die after all, instead, he'd live a very long life.
Minerva chuckled again, "Severus," she called him as she was leaving the room.
He turned one more time. "Yes?"
Her expression wasn't amused anymore. She was serious and carried the gravity of their
situation, of Harry's life, on the marks on her face. "Take him too."
Severus blinked. "What?"
"I've watched you grow," she said. "Not as closely as I watched them, but enough to see. I'm
proud of the man you've become for Hermione. I'm his Head of House, but I think you could
be even more for him."
He left.
Having this conversation once had been enough.

Severus stalked towards the Hospital wing, every student who crossed his path made way for
him.
Poppy groaned at the sight of him. "Let him be, Severus."
"Minerva sent me." He told her. Poppy just sighed in resignation and left for her office. No
doubt she'd complain to Minerva through the Floo.
There was only one bed with the curtains pulled, so he went straight there. He pulled the
curtains and found not one, but two guilty teenagers. And two pieces of the Quibbler.
They looked up at him and their eyes were as big as saucers, caught in the act.
"Merlin, what part of keeping your head down and staying out of trouble the two of you
didn't understand?" Severus asked, furious at them. "First you raise a fucking army and now
you give Rita Skeeter the fucking scoop of the century!"
"Language," Harry said, smirking and terribly reminiscent of his dead father.
"Don't you try me, Harry!" He snapped. The boy looked down to his lap. He sighed. "You've
named all of them, people who have high positions in the Ministry, people who are dangerous
and all serve a man who wants to kill you. What were you thinking?" Harry remained silent,
so he turned to the culprit. "I was asking you, Hermione."
"Fudge has the Daily Prophet. They have been discrediting Harry since the summer. Calling
him all sorts of things. Voldemort is out there, right now, breaking his followers from
Azkaban while Fudge tries to blame on Sirius, who has been pardoned! I knew I could make
Harry be heard, so that's what I did."
"You made him a target!"
"He has always been a target." Hermione shrugged, "But didn't you see? People are believing
him now. Harry told me how a lot of people came up to him today. I had people coming up to
me as well. And with Umbridge suddenly forbidding the Quibbler, it only got them more
curious. She did the one thing she could have done to make absolutely sure that every single
person in this school will read his interview.”
And of course she was right. The whole place seemed to be quoting the interview at each
other; twice he stopped class to reprimand whispering about it. It had been the topic of
discussion during lunch.
"You've got to stop being so reckless," he told her.
"I wasn't being reckless. I knew who I wanted to write it and what I wanted to have written. I
decided where to publish it and even told some people beforehand that it would be released. I
had control of it all."
"You sent a letter to Lucius to spite him." he retorted, raising an eyebrow at her.
She only smirked, "To give him a heads up."

"Crazy child, you have six children of the men you named in your house."
"Only four to be worried about." Hermione shrugged, unbothered. And well, it wasn't like he
didn't know she could handle all of them.
"Guys…" Harry groaned and Hermione and Severus looked at the boy, who had grown
suddenly pale. "My head--" he hissed in pain and Severus placed a hand on the boy's
forehead. He was burning up.
"Harry," he called as he conjured a wet cloak and pressed against the boy's head. "Can you
listen to me?"
"I think I'm going to be sick…" he muttered, rolling over to the side. Severus caught him and
the boy shook on his arms.
"Dad--" Hermione began, her voice shaky. "It's his scar."
"Occlude Harry, I know it's hurting, but you have to close your mind," the boy's green eyes
were rolling in their sockets.
"I--" he stopped, groaning in pain one more time.
"Don't let him in son, close your mind."
Harry blinked at him and for a second, there was a hint of red in his eyes. Severus almost
pulled back. At once, Harry fell asleep, shivering and burning up. It wasn't a normal sleep, it
was more like he had collapsed into unconsciousness.
Severus entered the boy's mind and stepped out almost immediately in shock. He was
standing in the Malfoy Manor. The dark, curtained room was the Drawing Room. He - the
boy - was Voldemort. Severus could recognise that long-fingered and white hand easily.
Voldemort stood by the chair, his hand looking like spiders against the dark velvet of the
cushion. Beyond the chair, illuminated by the candles, knelt a man in black robes. Rockwood.
“I have been badly advised, it seems,” Voldemort spoke, in a high, cold voice that pulsed
with anger. Harry wouldn't have been able to imitate the tone and the coldness of the voice if
this was just a dream.
“Master, I crave your pardon . . .” Rockwood croaked. He was trembling. Aftershocks of the
Cruciatus.
“I do not blame you, Rookwood,” Voldemort spoke in that cold, cruel voice. Severus hated
that Harry felt it came from him. Voldemort walked closer to the man cowering upon the
floor, until he stood directly over him in the darkness. Severus had been in that position,
cowered like that. He often wondered what it felt like to be standing over someone like that.
He knew now. It wasn't empowering. “You are sure of your facts, Rookwood?” Voldemort
asked.
“Yes, my Lord, yes... I used to work in the department after — after all. Avery told me Bode
would be able to remove it. Bode could never have taken it, Master. Bode would have known
he could not... Undoubtedly that is why he fought so hard against Malfoy’s Imperius Curse...”
“Stand up, Rookwood,” whispered Voldemort. The kneeling man almost fell over in his haste
to obey. There was relief in Rockwood's face, the momentary feeling of it being over.
Rockwood didn't fully stand, he remained halfway through a bow, never at Voldemort's
height. His face showed how frightened he was. “You have done well to tell me this,”
Voldemort said. “Very well... I have wasted months on fruitless schemes, it seems… But no
matter, we begin again, from now. You have Lord Voldemort’s gratitude, Rookwood...”
“My Lord... yes, my Lord,” Rookwood gasped, his voice hoarse with relief.
“I shall need your help. I shall need all the information you can give me.”
“Of course, my Lord, of course... anything...”
“Very well... you may go. Send Avery to me.”
Rookwood scurried backward, bowing, and disappeared through a door. Left alone in the
dark room, Harry turned toward the wall. A cracked, age-spotted mirror hung on the wall in
the shadows. Harry moved toward it. His reflection grew larger and clearer in the darkness.
Severus exited Harry's mind the moment the red eyes appeared on the mirror.
"Harry…" He called, cradling the boy's hair, it was soaked. As was his t-shirt around his
chest. "It's over now. He's gone."
"You were there." Harry said, green eyes brimming with tears. Severus nodded. "You saw it
too."
"I blocked his feelings." He explained, "Everything you felt was your own."
"Thank you," Harry murmured, "I don't want his anger."
"I know." He said.
"Do you see now? The reason I can't block him? It hurts too much."
"I saw. You did great. He didn't know you were on his mind." He told the boy. Harry nodded.
Hermione had a streak of tears in her cheeks and she held Harry's hand tight. She looked up
at him. "Can I sleep here?" She asked.
"Yes." He replied and enlarged the bed to fit them properly. Severus pulled a chair for
himself. "I will stay here for a bit as well. Make sure you two are safe."
Chapter End Notes

Well, this one was a very long rollercoaster of emotions, I'm sorry if it gave you all a
whiplash lmao. I made this one purposefully long because there's going to be a small
time jump and I didn't want to do it mid-chapter on the next one.
As always, you can find me on Twitter and on Instagram: moonyhoax

pain is just a simple compromise
Chapter Notes
Hello!! I'm so, so, so sorry about the extra delay!! But I had my master's thesis deadline
on the 20th and of course I was terribly behind writing it. But now that's out of the way!
I finished it and once more I'd like to thank all of you who took the time to fill out the
questionnaire!
As I mentioned in the last chapter, there's a bit of a time jump here. There are a lot of
revelations here and I'm excited to read what you guys think! It's been a long time
coming I think.
would someone care to classify

our broken hearts and twisted minds
so I can find someone to rely on
and run to them
Chapter Fifty-Six
Trewlaney was sacked at the beginning of March and Dumbledore replaced her with Firenze,
a centaur, to Umbridge's great horror. But March was abnormally dull, which blurred into a
squally April, where life seemed to have become one long series of worries and problems
again. Between Umbridge's constant supervision during classes, the O.W.L.s drawing nearer
and the D.A. meetings getting more and more advanced, Hermione couldn't find a moment to
breathe.
Halfway through April, the wish for calmness translated into panic, for of course Hogwarts
would never allow them a moment of peace. Dobby's warning had come with moments of
respite. At once they all pelted toward the exit at once, forming a scrum at the door, then
people burst through where they sprinted along the corridors. Harry, of course, had been the
only one caught.
Hermione should have guessed something was going to go wrong the moment Pansy and
Draco resumed their whispering sections and when Pansy missed the one class she was most
interested in, Hermione should have known.
"You gave us away!" Hermione whispered-shouted at Pansy.
"No I did not. From what Potter's been saying, Marietta Edgecombe is walking right now
around the castle with her face horribly disfigured by a series of close-set purple pustules that
write out the word 'SNEAK'". Pansy replied matter of factly.
"You gave her the list with all of our names!" Harry said, his green eyes angry.
"Not all!" Pansy retorted, "I used the Geminio spell and removed some of the names." Pansy
clarified.
Harry snorted not amusedly, "Yeah, thanks a lot for that!"
"You were the only one caught, what did you expect me to do? If anything, your name is the
only one that had to be there."
"Oh yes, as if you have not been taking bitchcraft from the moment you were born!"
Pansy smiled. "Why Henry, that's the nicest thing you've said to me."
He scowled, but then, to Hermione's enormous surprise, smirked and added, "Not it isn't."
Pansy faltered for a moment and Hermione took a long look between the pair. Those two
were weird since they returned from Christmas break, but Hermione couldn't pinpoint their
weirdness exactly. "And it's not that any of you got in trouble anyway!" Pansy said after
recovering, "They are calling the parents, boo-hoo, you can't honestly think that your
guardian is going to reprimand you."
"Yeah, but all the others, their parents might." Harry said.
Pansy blinked. Looked at him blankly and Harry waited. "What? Am I supposed to care?"
Harry huffed in exasperation, shaking his head. "You are impossible--and no, this is not a
compliment!"
But she looked too happy. Hermione sighed. "Anyway, Dumbledore is gone now. What are
we supposed to expect now?"
They found out the next day.
Every house board, classroom board and even the huge plaque that had been placed in front
of the Great Hall had what they were supposed to expect:
Dolores Jane Umbridge (High Inquisitor) has replaced Albus Dumbledore as Head of
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The above is in accordance with
Educational Decree Number Twenty-eight.
And because apparently, that wasn't enough, Pansy and Draco - alongside some others - had
been called forth by Umbridge to form a higher level group of Prefects, surpassing even the
Head Students in power.
Hermione was explaining what it was to Harry and a couple of other students when Draco
passed by. She sighed at the gleeful look on his face.
“The Inquisitorial Squad, Granger,” he said, interrupting her and pointing toward a tiny silver
I upon his robes just beneath his prefect’s badge. Blaise was so correct, Draco should
definitely take up theatre. “A select group of students who are supportive of the Ministry of
Magic, hand-picked by Professor Umbridge. Anyway, members of the Inquisitorial Squad do
have the power to dock points…" He told them with a sickeningly sweet smile.
She smiled back in kind. "Oh thank you Malfoy, you may go on now."
He gasped in mock offence, "So, Granger, for your rudeness, I’ll have fi-"
"No, you won't." She replied quickly before the words left his mouth.
He smirked. "You are right. Maybe I won't." Draco replied since he wasn't insane like his
aunt. "But Macmillan, I heard you contradicting me before I arrived so five from you." He
looked at Harry and Hermione inhaled deeply. "Five because I don’t like you, Potter…
Weasley, your shirt is untucked, so I’ll have another five for that..."
"Draco?" Hermione called.
"Yeah?"
She smiled sweetly at him. "My father will hear about this."
"Oh love, when you say things like that you make me weak on my knees." He said and Harry
groaned next to her.
He left and despite his most recent behaviour as a jerk, Hermione couldn't help but look at
him go fondly.
"He can't really dock points, can he?" Ron asked.
Of course, he could, "I don't know Ron. Probably." She replied.
Harry leaned in closer to her and murmured in her ear, "Is it really too late for you to change
boyfriends?"
"I'm afraid it is,"
"Well, as long as he's not in our next Christmas gathering…"
They only got to talk to Severus by the end of the week. He wanted to know what had
happened at Dumbledore's office from Harry.
Harry had given her the rundown days before, so she took the opportunity to try the coffee
Nneka had sent Severus. It had been a nice surprise to find out that they were both coffee
drinkers rather than tea fans.
"--right when she was about to answer how many meetings we had had before that day, her
eyes got all oddly blank and she began staring straight ahead of her.”
Hermione whirled. "Someone used Imperius on her!" She said,
"What? Who would use an Unforgivable in front of the Minister of Magic?" Harry asked.
"You'd be surprised." Severus muttered and took the coffee she had offered him, "Thank
you."
Harry continued, "Dumbledore thanked Shacklebolt though, he said he had been remarkably
quick on the uptake, modifying Marietta's memory like that while everyone was looking the
other way—"
"That was not a memory-modifying spell!" Hermione argued. "Honestly, I'm sick of adults
exploiting their positions of power like that! Especially over underage kids!"
Severus sighed, "And what happened at your detention with Umbridge? No lines this time?"
Harry shook his head. "No. She insisted that I drank some tea though. She wasn't satisfied
until I finished it."
Hermione saw her father working his jaw. Immediately Hermione furrowed her eyebrows.
That couldn't mean--
"You didn't find yourself answering any questions you didn't mean to?" Severus asked Harry.
Hermione gasped. Harry echoed. "She tried to give me Veritaserum!"
"I'm aware of it."
"What do you mean you are aware of it?" Harry asked. "You knew?"
"I gave it to her."
"YOU GAVE IT TO HER?" Harry shouted, Severus winced at the sound.
"I told you she's under the suspicion I'm not as reliable as she believed me to be." He replied,
"But I gave her a diluted version of course. Merlin knows I wouldn't have the things you
know in jeopardy."
Harry scowled, "All of you are so goddamned Slytherins."
"Language."
Harry only sighed.
"But what I really wanted to inform you, it's that tomorrow your guardian will be here.
Alongside some other parents. To hear about your revolutionary ideas of overthrowing the
government."
"That was nothing of the sort." Hermione retorted.

"You are lucky Miss Parkinson had the mind to remove your name from that list Hermione,"
he told her, "Sometimes I swear it's your goal in life to make my life harder."
"Well, there's always room for improvement."
He shook his head in exasperation. "Thank Salazar next week you have your Easter break,
Merlin knows you two can get this castle up in flames."
Severus had to admit, there was a sick glee inside of him at the sight of Umbridge's
expression once all the parents had been gathered in that pink office of hers.
"What is this?" Umbridge asked, her eyes wide.
"The parents, Headmistress." Minerva replied. "You wanted the parents of every member
involved. For the consequences."
Severus knew Umbridge was aware of that. Minerva too knew. It wasn't the assortment of
parents - eighteen in total, the muggle-borns had been lucky on that front - that had Umbridge
taking a wide berth in her own office.
"But he-- he-- is a werewolf! A half-breed! In a school full of children!" She shrieked,
pointing at Remus. He didn't even react.
"And I'm a former convict." Sirius snarled as Severus knew he would, "So please, keep
talking about my husband like that."
Remus choked so hard that he had to even turn to the side to cough and only stopped when
Mr Bones was so kind to slap his back. He had tears in his eyes when he turned back.
"They are Harry Potter's guardians." Minerva replied, not batting an eye at Sirius' comment.
And also acting as if she didn't understand Umbridge's implication.
Xenophilius, bless him, said "Curious to be meeting here. I remember the Headmaster's office
being much grander than this. Spaces are indeed only as big as we are. Our adult form
constricts the greatness of a child's mind."
"It's not the same office." Mrs Abbott commented, "This is the Defense Against the Dark
Arts office, Xeno."
"Oh," he replied.
Lucius - self-appointed counsellor to the Headmistress, Merlin save them all -, who had
ignored his older brother's entire commentary, coughed and posed, ready to begin. "We
should start."
Umbridge explained their crimes - and in the way she said it, one listening would fully
believe the kids had decided to join the Death Eaters - while Minerva and the other Head of
Houses tried to counter Umbridge's claims by agreeing that it had been merely a more
practical study group with a poor choice of name.
"They are highly impressionable kids," Pomona had argued, "with what's happening, I'm
certain the name was just them being carried away."
Umbridge simpered, "And what, exactly, is happening, Professor?"
Both Mr Bones and Mrs Abbot snorted at that.
"Maybe the massive escape from Azkaban you so accused me of being behind?" Sirius asked
sarcastically.
She smiled at him falsely, "How could I have done it? I've been oh so trying to not let
Dumbledore run this school to the ground."
Lucius, who had a lifetime experience in being the Devil's advocate and was a specialist in
giving terrible advice masked as brilliant ones, had been Transfiguration-precise once more.
By letting the parents - influential like Mrs Abbot and Mr Macmillan, from the Sacred
Twenty-Eight, and Mr Bones where the entire family had high positions in the Ministry -
have a peek at what meant to have Umbridge at their children's school, they were witness to
not only how deranged she was, but at the direction the Ministry was trying to take the
school. Severus could see, from mind to mind, how Harry's interview was becoming more
and more plausible by the second Umbridge was allowed to speak.
After a long, excruciating hour, Umbridge let them go. He walked Lucius out of the castle, in
case the man decided to take another detour and resume his recruitment around Severus'
dungeons.
"Lucy!" They heard behind them and Lucius almost staggered on his feet. Maybe he really
needed that cane of his.
Lucy
"Merlin, no." Lucius muttered and fixed his expression before turning around.
Severus saw Xenophilius skipping to catch up to them. He understood why it was so easy to
forget they were brothers. No one looked at the same white-blond hair when their stances and
choice of clothing were worlds different.
"Lucy," Xenophilius called again and Lucius twitched at the nickname as if he had just
received the Cruciatus curse. "A word, can't we?"
Lucius nodded. After all, they were still on the bridge and inside the Anti-Apparition wards.
Lucius would only escape this conversation if he jumped. Severus thought Lucius was
considering.
"Quite a piece, wasn't it?"

"On what?" Lucius asked.
Xenophilius smiled, "Oh little brother," Another twitch, "You know I print and send out the
copies from Catchpole, every month an owl takes one up to Wiltshire."
Severus realised that Lucius, in fact, didn't know. "You don't think I read them, do you? My
elves love to use it in their quarters."
"I'm certain they do. The material I use to print the pages is particularly favourable to a house
elf's skin. I'm impressed you take such good care of them."
Lucius sighed. There was no winning against Xenophilius. Severus doubted that the pages
were favourable to a house-elf's skin, he was certain such a thing didn't exist. But all in the
name of annoying Lucius. Severus could relate to the feeling. "What do you want?"
"An understanding," He replied. "My Luna told me that there is a girl that calls you uncle."
He looked at Severus then. Severus and Lucius grew taller at the mention of Hermione. "She
is a brave girl, to go against you like that." It dawned on Severus then, that the 'lunacy' in
Xenophilius' tone, the clothes and the starry-eyed look on his eyes were an armour as much
as Lucius' iceness was. "My Luna doesn't have Severus Snape, you, Narcissa, Sirius Black
and Remus Lupin on her side. She only has me. I've never asked anything from you and I
won't do it again. Just this one thing. Remember that you are her uncle as well. From a father
to another."
Lucius' knuckles were white on his cane, but he nodded anyway.
Xenophilius didn't need anything else, he resumed his skipping and the moment he crossed
the wards, he was gone.
"Lucy?" Severus asked, an eyebrow raised.
Lucius glared at him and stalked away.
Severus returned to the castle with the awful feeling that they had crossed a threshold that
they couldn't return.
In the days that followed, he learned from not only Minerva but Pomona and Filius as well,
that the majority of the parents couldn't care less about what their sons and daughters were
doing. Especially after Minerva let slip during biscuits and tea with her former students after
that parent-teacher conference those meetings had been going since mid-October and
everyone involved had shown immense improvement in classes in general.
Harry knocked on his office at the usual hour, one day before the start of the Easter break. He
had to admit, the boy was doing very good work with Occlumency in general, almost always
managing to keep Severus out of his mind. Motivation worked in funny ways, Severus
thought because the boy was clearly working hard to hide whatever he and a raven-haired girl
were doing around the castle. Thankfully for Severus, the boy was being successful.
However, the attempts to guard his mind during sleep were proving to be much more
difficult. Harry had told him how every night it seemed that he was seeing further and further
down on the Department of Mysteries.
It was a bit more difficult to teach Occlumency when the attacks on one's mind came from
the presence of a second already inside, but they persisted.
They were about to begin when Draco interrupted them. The boy looked between them with
surprise. At least this Hermione hadn't shared with her boyfriend.
“Well, Draco, what is it?” Severus asked.
“It’s Umbridge, sir — she needs your help,” Draco replied and Severus held a long, suffering
sigh. “They’ve found Montague, sir. He’s turned up jammed inside a toilet on the fourth
floor.”
“How did he get in there?” He demanded. Honestly, he didn't get paid enough for this.
“I don’t know, sir, he’s a bit confused...”
“Very well, very well — Potter,” he called, turning to the boy, “we shall resume this lesson
tomorrow evening instead.”
After half an hour of trying to remove Montague from the inside of a toilet seat and trying to
understand how the boy ended up there in the first place, Severus returned to his office.
And his blood ran cold.
No. He thought. The one thing. Not that. Severus stalked towards the boy, whose head was
dumped inside his pensieve.
Severus closed his hand on the boy's upper arm and pulled. Whatever was on the tip of his
tongue died at the look on the boy's face. His rage was still there, simmering, boiling, hissing
in warning that it was about to explode, but the widened green of his eyes, the pool of tears
and the disgust on Harry's face kept his feelings at bay.
"It was him." Harry said. "He's the reason you called mum that."
Severus baulked. Of all the reasons he had to keep that memory away, never he considered
the boy would resent his father. Severus thought Harry would find it funny, laugh along as
Sirius Black had done, maybe poke at Severus for holding a grudge all these years for a mean
joke, and worse, that Harry would hate him for how he acted towards Lily after she helped
him.
But not that.
"No. I called her that because I wasn't a very nice person."
Harry scoffed, "Neither was my dad." The boy blinked and a fat tear rolled down his cheek.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I believe I've been telling you how much I dislike your father since the moment you stepped
into Hogwarts. I haven't saved names for him."
"He was a jerk." Harry said, tears falling freely now as if the confession from his lips had
opened a dam in his eyes. "Arrogant and a--a--bully! He was--”
"Harry, we were fifteen--”
"I'M FIFTEEN!" The boy shouted, "DON'T DEFEND HIM!"
"I'm not defending him." Severus replied. Merlin knew there was still a part of him that was
bitter and vindictive enough to sit Harry down and list down all of James Potter's faults. But
that wouldn't get them anywhere. There was no reward for insulting the dead.
"That night at your place. You didn't tell us it was him." Harry said, "Why?"
Severus sighed. "I didn't want you to know."
"But why?" The boy asked, frustrated, both with Severus and with the tears. Twice he had to
remove his glasses to defog the lenses. "All these times I thought you disliked him and Sirius
because dad and mum got together or because they were more popular, not because they were
a fucking bully to you!"
"Language Harry."
"I don't care about my language! I care about how NOTHING I learn about my parents is
EVER REAL!"
"Everything you learned about them is real." Severus told him and before the scowl could
become a retort, he continued. "I only had your father's worst, while your godfather had your
father's best. From us, it makes two completely different people. But he was just a person, a
boy. The reason I decided to not tell you what your father did is because James Potter is
dead."
Harry scoffed and once more removed his glasses in annoyance, Severus caught it. "So what?
Because he's dead, the shitty things he did are secret now?" Severus cast a fogginess-
repelling charm on the boy's glasses before returning it. "Thanks," Harry mumbled.
"No Harry. They are not a secret, but they are not the rule which you should measure him
by."
"It's not like I can forget it either." Harry replied. "I saw them go after you for no reason other
than Sirius was bored. They provoked you and--God, they even made fun of a question on
Werewolves with Remus there! I'd hate them as well."
"Yeah, and I did. I hated them for a long time. Harry, I purposely set that werewolf
homework on your third year to get back at Remus, because I am petty. I told my students
what he was two years ago to get back at him for something that happened twenty years ago.
People are complicated, sometimes they are mean. But they grow up Harry, and they can
change. James did."
"How do you know?" Harry mumbled. "That he changed?"
"You saw your mum, Harry. She would have never gone out with him if he remained an
arrogant, bullying toerag."
"That's what she called him." He said and finally, the tears had ceased.
"I know," Severus replied. "She was defending me until I insulted her. And then she went
after me. Lily was vicious, but she was just. And besides," Severus began, trying and failing
to pull down that damned hair at the back of the boy's head, "after what he gave me, I
couldn't hate him any longer."
"What do you mean?"
"He knew Hermione wasn't his but he took her anyway to protect her and then he gave her to
me when he couldn't anymore, the way he fought for your mother and--" Merlin, the boy was
really the deadman's copy: the same thin face, same mouth, same eyebrows and an inch of
each other’s heights. "You."
Harry blinked and a traitorous tear left the boy. "I--Me?" the boy asked, stunned. "Why? You
are not my--I mean, Sirius is my godfather, I understand that, but--"
Merlin, this boy. "You don't need a reason to be loved, Harry." He replied because Salazar
help him if he allowed Lily's boy to think he was only loved by the people who had a
responsibility to him. "You are so loved, Harry."
Harry gasped and his green eyes widened. "I--I heard this before. I--in a dream. At least I
thought it was. Mum--she--"
"I'm certain it wasn't a dream, Harry," Severus told him. "Lily loved you very much."
The boy nodded and awkwardness fell upon them, so Severus quickly dismissed the boy and
was left alone to his thoughts.
Hermione was putting some of her things outside her trunk, Remus was leaning against the
doorframe watching her, "I really can't believe I let you talk me into coming here! The
O.W.Ls are so close and I have so much catching up to do…"
Remus chuckled, "All of the girls in your dorm stayed, and that boyfriend of yours as well. I
don't think you would be doing much studying in the castle."
"But the books! I couldn't bring them all--Madame Pince wouldn't let me."
"I'm certain that whatever you need we can get Severus to send it to you." He told her, and
added, "We promise not to bother you if you promise to come out for every meal."
Hermione sighed. "Alright."

At the same time a loud noise of something falling came from the room next to her and
Hermione groaned. Laughter followed and Hermione glared at Remus.
"I will cast a Silencing charm." He told her and then left her to check what Theo had done.
It didn't take long for Hermione to be glad to have come. They did leave her to her own
devices and Remus would periodically knock on her door to bring snacks and remind her to
drink water. He also helped her to revise and test her on her flashcards.
Harry had been weird on the first few days, he hadn't wanted to tell her what had happened,
but she guessed it was something involving Sirius. Hermione had seen them from her
window walking around and they were both gesticulating wildly at one another until Sirius
stomped away. Harry of course had dealt with his frustration by burying his nose in Regulus'
journals. She was slightly worried about what her brother was going to do once he finished
them.
As promised, she always joined them for meals - it was Sirius' thing to have all their meals
together - and after they usually cuddled up on the sofa. This time, Hermione was sitting on
the floor, her back to the sofa and her head leaning against Remus’ leg. Theo was splayed on
the sofa, his own head over Remus' thighs.
Sirius and Harry had made up, and both were on the floor with Hermione. Sirius was telling
them about the time James was picked for Quidditch and got overly excited about it but had
to downplay his excitement because Sirius was being a crappy loser for not being picked.
Harry was laughing along as Remus told them he called Sirius a prat and a bad friend for
moping around. Sirius chuckled along, recognizing he had been shitty. There was so much
warmth in his eyes that for once Hermione believed Sirius could heal from losing James.
"Were you an animagus already?" Theo asked, "Because then you would have been the
perfect kicked dog."
Sirius threw a pillow at the boy and they all laughed. Chuckling at Sirius's embarrassment,
Hermione added, “Well, it’s clear James had an ego the size of a lake but a heart to match it.”
Sirius smiled in agreement. His face was all warm smiles and soft edges, miles different from
the day they met.
Next to her, Remus tensed and Hermione almost fell to the floor when he stood up suddenly.
Theo scrambled to not fall from the sofa.
Sirius looked at Remus weirdly, “What’s up?”
“Nothing.” He said, “I just remembered I wanted to bake us something today. Hermione,

could you give me a hand, please?”
Since when Remus baked? She thought to herself, but nodded anyway. “Yeah, of course.” She
followed Remus to the kitchen and watched as he leaned against the counter and looked at
her strangely. “What?” She asked.
“Where did you hear that?”

“What?” Hermione repeated.
“The thing about James. Where did you hear it?” He asked and his voice had an edge to it.
Suddenly Hermione felt like she was in his office all those years ago when she told him that
Dumbledore had been the Potter's Secret Keeper.
“Nowhere? I—“ she stopped. She had just told him something shattering again. Because
Hermione had heard that somewhere, actually. She hesitated. Theo was the only one who
knew about the portrait beside her and Harry.
Remus narrowed his eyes. Mistrustful of her reaction. “Hermione,” he began cautiously,
“How did you know to say exactly that?”
“Someone told me.” She replied and bit down her lower lip. Hermione doubted she'd get out
of this.
Remus grew pale. Paler, if that was possible. And from his reaction alone she knew: He too
had heard that. It was clear he knew exactly where and how. Fuck, he probably knew the
who. “How did he tell you?” He asked, confirming it for her.
“How do you know that?” She asked him instead. Which was a fair question. Did Remus and
Regulus spend their time waxing poetry about James Potter?
“I told him that.” Remus said, “Hermione, how do you have my exact words to Regulus, and
Regulus only, about James?”
“He told me?”
“Clearly!” He laughed a bit exasperatedly, “He’s dead. Please tell me that at least someone
has stayed dead—”
“I have his portrait.” Hermione finally confessed and Remus stopped mid-sentence.
He stared at her, his mouth open and his eyes wide.
"You have his portrait." He repeated. "How?"
"I--"
"That conversation about portraits." He said, stopping her, "Since then?"
"A bit after. I asked Dobby to find it for me." She told him, "Harry was obsessed with the
journals, it's the only thing he reads and I--I don't know, I was thinking about portraits and
figured he might have one."
Remus ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "You have a portrait of Sirius' Death Eater
brother and didn't tell anyone."
Hermione frowned. "You don't know what we know."

"First of all, you don't know him. And secondly, who's we?"
"Harry and I." Hermione replied, "And Theo, but he just talked to Reggie once."
Remus looked like he was about to collapse. "Reggie?"
Hermione made a face, "We talked a lot."
"Merlin's beard, I don't even know what to say." He told her.
"He has--"
"Everything's alright?" Sirius asked from the door. "I don't hear or smell any baking."
Hermione and Remus exchanged a look. Sirius frowned. Hermione regretted ever opening
her mouth. They couldn't lie to Sirius, but neither of them wanted to tell the truth either.
"She--" Remus began with a deep breath, "She's a resourceful little snake that's what she is."
He said and Sirius got even more confused.
"What happened?"
"She will tell you."
"Remus…"
"When she's ready." He added, "She will tell you when she's ready." Hermione nodded. "She
will be ready tomorrow." She groaned.
Remus pulled Sirius to leave the kitchen and soon she heard the door to their bedroom
closing. Remus would find a way to distract Sirius from his curiosity.
"What did you do?" Harry asked. He and Theo appeared after the other two left.
"How could I have known that the exact thing I said about James was Remus who told
Regulus?"
"Fuck." Harry muttered, "He knows then?" Hermione nodded. "Is he telling Sirius?"
"No, he wants me to tell him tomorrow."
Theo whistled. "Not good." He said, "Sirius doesn't react well to the mention of his brother
on a good day. This won't be a mention, you have his portrait."
"I know!"
"Wait. Do you have it here now?" Theo asked.
"Yes."
"There goes a peaceful Easter holiday." He sighed.

"I need to talk to Regulus anyway," Harry said. "There's a journal missing. I finished all of
them. He numbered them and the second before last is missing."
"We have an ongoing crisis and you are worried about a journal?" Hermione asked.
Sometimes having different fathers was the only thing that made sense about them being
siblings because Harry's priorities were usually on another spectrum from Hermione's.
"Hermione, I think it's purposely missing. He got--I don't know how to explain, his writing
became more secretive, as if he was afraid someone would read his entries. He made a lot of
jumps in the last couple, like, skipping lines and lines and then continuing as if nothing was
abnormal. And then the last one has this one very weird sentence, it's just 'may the right
question fill your missing lines'."
"Ok. Weird." Theo said.
"Come on," She said and walked in the direction of her room. "If we are going to do this,
better not to be in the kitchen."
Theo was the last one to enter and he closed and cast the silencing spells on the door.
"So, the last journals. What are they about?" She asked Harry.
"His last year at Hogwarts. Evan and Barty Jr got the mark during the summer. It's just the
three of them now, neither of the girls are talking to them anymore. He wrote about meeting
Narcissa a lot during the school year, every Hogsmeade meeting, but he never wrote about
what they talked about, which was already weird, because he used to go as far as narrate
conversations before."
"Merlin, he needed new friends urgently." Theo muttered.
"There's something he and Narcissa were discussing and it seemed important because the
only thing he wrote about it was that he was getting closer. And then the next journal is
missing and the last one--"
"How do you know it's the last one?" Hermione asked.
"He began with 'this is the last journal I will ever write'."
"Dramatic," Theo said with a snort.
"But effective," Hermione shrugged, "Go on."
"It's very brief. As we know, he died in the summer after his graduation. But the problem is
the tone. It's completely different, almost like a different person, which makes me think it's
on purpose. That someone who read all of them would notice a difference."
Could it be? Did Regulus know something? Had he learned something about Voldemort and
taken measures to make sure the information didn't fall into the wrong hands? It would
explain why his portrait was so real, why he'd taken such care in making sure whoever found
him would be able to get the necessary information. And Narcissa's involvement… Hermione
remembered how Narcissa had been about Regulus that one time. She accused Sirius of not
knowing everything about his little brother. Maybe this was it?
"Well," Hermione said, silently agreeing. "If it's written somewhere, he will know." She said
and opened her trunk, getting the portrait out.
"Hello again," he greeted them once Hermione removed the protective spells on it. "You lot
look like trouble."
"Remus knows about you." Hermione told him.
"And my brother is not here yelling at me, why?"
"He doesn't know yet."
Regulus laughed, clearly amused. "Remus is playing with fire now, is he?"
"It's not funny." Hermione hissed, "He will throw a fit! You know he will."
"That's not a problem for me." Regulus replied, "I'm just a portrait." Hermione glared at him.
"Well, you are the one who went behind everyone's back, used a freed and willing house-elf
to do your bidding and then proceeded to hide the existence of a portrait of his long lost dead
evil little brother for months."
Harry snorted and Theo barked a laugh that had him covering his mouth, momentaneously
forgetting the spells in place.
"You are lucky Harry likes you so much." She said, pointing a finger at him. "Go on," she
turned to her brother, "Ask him."
"I read all of your journals." Harry told him and the change was immediate. The humour and
the amusement were gone. Theo took a step closer to her, having noticed it as well. "There is
one missing. What's in there?"
Once more Hermione felt cold at the realistic portrayal of Regulus Black in front of them.
His eyes glinted and he gave each of them a long and assessing look.
"It's time I speak to my brother again," He said.
"What?" Harry asked, "That's it?"
"'May the right question fill your missing lines', that's what he wrote, right? Maybe that's the
question." Theo said.
Regulus was quiet, still just looking at them. Hermione groaned, "You are going to be
mysterious now? After seven years of writing novels, you decided that now you will keep it a
secret?"
"I will tell my brother where it is. And you will know what is in there."
"Go on then," Hermione said, "Call him."
"Why me?" Harry asked.
"He's your godfather!"
"You are the one in future trouble!"
"I'm just telling you to call him not to announce that we have his brother's over-realistic
portrait! Just go!"
"They are probably banging!" Harry retorted, "Theo go!"
"Wait up, why me?"
"Remus is your adoptive father, it's a father's curse to have children interrupting sexy times,"
Harry replied.
Theo gaped at him and Hermione was certainly crimson, Regulus, however, was quite
amused.
"How would you know? You have no parents!" Theo retorted.
"Theodore!" Hermione reprimanded, but Harry just waved her off, clearly not minding the
comment.
"Oh Merlin, put a protective charm on the frame for me, will you? I'd miss you terribly if my
brother decides to blast me to pieces." Theo groaned but went. Harry and Hermione waited
with bated breath. "The protections." Regulus reminded them, "I just have this one, I'm
overly protective of it."
Hermione cast the spells and even covered the portrait. "What are you doing?" Harry asked in
a whisper, for they could hear Theo talking to Remus and Sirius down the hall.
"We have better chances if Sirius doesn't see him straight away."
"Agreed." Regulus said under the cover.
"Shut up."
Theo returned with them and immediately came to stand next to her, a shoulder in front of
her. He looked at her with a small smile and the 'just in case' look.
Remus looked between the three of them and the covered portrait behind them. He got his
wand out. Just in case.
"Sirius, sit down and give me your wand." Hermione said, just in case.
There was a sound of amusement under the covers and Hermione wanted to hit it.
"What?"
"Some conversations are better to be had without wands." She said simply.
Sirius was on high alert, but sat down and began to remove his wand from his pocket. "Who
do you have behind you?"
"Your wand, Sirius."
"Fine," he tossed it at her, "But know that you are a scheming little snake."
"Thank you." Hermione replied and with a last glance at Harry, pulled the cover with his
help.
Regulus, of course, was waiting for it. "Hello, brother. Did you miss me?"
Theo took her hand, and Remus took a single step closer to Sirius, his hand almost reaching.
Sirius stared at the smirking, insufferable painting of his eighteen-year-old brother.
They waited and Regulus was basking in the fall.
Sirius turned to Remus, "You knew?"
The crash.
"For the past half an hour, yes."
"And you didn't tell me?"
Regulus snorted and the sound made Sirius whirl around. They looked so alike "Typical
Sirius, ignoring his brother for his friends."
Sirius took a step forward and at once the three of them closed in around the portrait. Sirius
looked from one guilty face to another. "What have you been telling them?"
"The truth." Regulus replied.
Sirius scoffed, "That's grand coming from you."
Regulus rolled his eyes, "Oh yes because you ever stuck long enough to hear me!" He
snapped.
Hermione realised that there were too many witnesses for the Black Brothers showdown.
"Did you expect me to hear anything that was coming from your mouth after you showed me
what you did?"
"Yes! Because you were my brother! But no, you were so quick to believe the absolute worst
of me!"
"You proved to be the absolute worst!"

"He didn't want it!" Harry said, coming in Regulus' defence. "The mark. He didn't want it."
"Of course he would tell you that. After what his Lord did to James--"
"Don't talk about James, Sirius."
"YOU don't talk about him."
"He didn't tell me, he wrote in his journals. They were all there all this time."
Sirius scoffed, "I knew I shouldn't have let you read those things. Should have burned the
whole lot."
"Oh yes, better than to find out that you might have been wrong, huh?" Regulus retorted,
"Tell me, where did that high horse lead you? Heard you had quite a comfortable life these
past years."
"You told him?" Sirius asked them.
"Yes, they told me everything. Put me up to date on things. Now, will you stop being a bitch
and listen to me?"
"Everything?" Sirius asked, "How long has this been going on? And how on earth do you
have his portrait?"
"For a while," Hermione replied, "It's a long story. But we need you to listen to him. He's
telling the truth. His diaries… There are a lot of things you don't know. He couldn't have
known who would find his journals," Hermione told him, "We think he might have learned
something important but he died before he got to tell anyone. Harry, explain it to him."
And Harry did. He went over the last two years of Regulus' life through the journals, making
sure to tell Sirius that Regulus had asked Dumbledore for help and had been denied.
Hermione felt proud of him for that. Harry was learning.
Harry explained how detailed Regulus had been in all of the previous ones and how his
evasiveness and jumps felt purposeful. Finally, coming round to where they were, where they
asked him about the last journal and the only thing Regulus replied was that he wanted to see
his brother.
Sirius sat down on the bed. He looked at the painting as if it was impossible that he was
seeing his brother again, even if it wasn't a version of him that was alive. This portrait felt
alive.
Regulus waited, but even his portrait seemed to know that his brother had decided because he
smiled before Sirius opened his mouth.
"So where is it? The missing journal."
Regulus' expression grew soft then, nostalgic and even a bit sad. "In the place where we used
to hide our secrets. You had yours, I had mine."
Sirius nodded. "I will be right back." And then he turned to Harry and Hermione, "You two
are so much trouble."
Once Sirius left, Remus replaced him on the bed and took a proper look at the portrait. "Heya
Reg,"
"Heya Remus." He replied, "Still dealing with my brother's bullshit then?"
Remus snorted, "As you said once. He's precious cargo." He sighed and shook his head, but
with a laugh, added: "So you got to meet the kids."
Regulus chuckled and winked at Hermione. "To think I trashed a Slytherin bedroom when I
learned Lily was pregnant."
Harry and Theo laughed and then her best friend added, "An unnecessary trashing by the
way, as she turned out to be quite the scandal."
Hermione swatted at him.
"Wherever you found this one Remus," Regulus told him, "I congratulate you."
Theo grinned proudly at that and Remus just chuckled, but very quietly added, "It's what he
would have done."
Sirius had come back and he entered the room doing some trashing of his own.
"You absolute mental of a brother! You ass! All these years! Not once!" Sirius was waving
the journal in his hand, using it to enunciate every sentence. "You could have told me!" He
threw the journal at the portrait and it bounced off before it could cause any damage.
Sirius gasped. Clearly affronted that they had put safety measures against him.
"Told you?" Regulus repeated, "Tu crois que ça me faisait plaisir de te cacher ce secret?"
Remus got red in the cheeks and groaned, "No, not the French."
"À toi de me le dire!" Sirius snapped back and that got Harry blinking. They had only heard
unintelligible French from Sirius so far, it was the first time he actually spoke it.
"Oui, peut-être," Regulus replied pettily and Hermione's very basic knowledge of French got
her swallowing down a chuckle.
"Why? Besides the fact you are a nasty little shit!"
"Parce que, puisque tu ne m'écoutais pas, je voulais quelque chose qui te ferait me voir."
"Je t'ai toujours vu."
"Don't lie." Regulus said curtly, "And it's not like it changes anything. I'm dead."
"It changes for me Reg," Sirius said, sounding defeated. "This…" He grabbed the journal
again, "This changes everything."
"So do something about it."
"So…" Harry tried, "Will you tell us what's in there?"
Sirius sighed. "Yes, but before that…" He shook his head, "I can't believe I'm going to say
this but… Moony, we need to call my cousin and her father."
"What?" Hermione and Harry asked at the same time, "What's in there?" She added. Seeing
Narcissa again wasn't in her plans for Easter.
"You had to go out with a bang, hadn't you?"
Regulus smirked, "You tell me, twenty muggles and your best friend's little finger."
"Tas de merde." Sirius muttered as he left the room.
"That went well, right?" Theo commented.
Remus sighed. "Well? We are getting Narcissa. That's one too many Noble House of Black
members at once." He replied. "Grab Regulus, we are not having this meeting in Hermione's
bedroom."
Regulus huffed, "Grab Regulus, honestly, the treatment."
Severus had plans. He wasn't unemployed like the pair of them, who could be called at any
time. He planned to enjoy a week free of any human contact. After all, his prefects had stayed
in the castle, so he could just trust them to not misuse their privileges too much.
But no, at Hogwarts or not, trouble seemed to follow Hermione and Harry, so there he was,
almost midnight, coming out of the Floo onto Remus' living room.
Harry, Hermione and Theodore were sitting side by side on the sofa. Their expressions were a
mixture of curiosity and apprehension.
And for what? The portrait of Regulus Black posed on the armchair to the side. "Hi, Sev."
Severus had half the mind to turn back around from where he came. He even began turning,
but the Floo flames returned and Narcissa stepped out of it, looking disgruntled.
"Cissa, it's been too long." Regulus greeted and Narcissa whirled at the sound of his voice.
"Where did that come from?" She asked Sirius, her eyes wide.
The shock of seeing Regulus had been so strong that Narcissa still hadn't noticed the girl
glaring at her with red eyes filled with tears.
"I found him." Hermione replied and her expression didn't waver a bit when Narcissa looked
at her. "Aunt Cissy, it's been too long." She greeted Narcissa.
Severus' eyes widened a bit. It made sense then, why he thought Hermione was the same
brand of Slytherin as Regulus. She was getting his influence. Acerbic and lethal.
"It has." Narcissa replied. Severus noticed she was looking at Hermione, really looking,
trying to find the ways the girl had changed, had matured from the last time they saw one
another. Severus knew it well, he used to do the same every new school year.
"So." Regulus said, arms crossed over the frame, "Family reunion, should we start? Get
comfortable, will you?" He grinned, satisfied with the entourage he had gathered. "Hermione,
love, please have the floor." Because of course, this had Hermione's fingertips all over.
Remus and Sirius waved the chairs from the dining room over for Narcissa and Severus,
while the pair shared the other armchair.
Hermione cleared her throat and began. Severus hadn't known that the small conversation
about Regulus Black had led to the boy finding dozens of journals from Regulus' school
years. Detailed ones, lovesick ones. He also didn't know that the day Hermione called him
dad for the first time was the day she began her inquiry about portraits.
He did know that Dobby, the Malfoys former elf and now free elf working at Hogwarts did
things for Harry, because Dumbledore had informed him about it, but he hadn't known that
the elf's affections for the boy extended enough to have Hermione exploiting it.
For months, they had Regulus Black portrait, months. Under Severus' own roof as well, and
no one had known. An almost too real portrait of the youngest Black heir, the youngest
person to ever get marked and they were using it to learn more about James Potter.
Really, not even death could stop James Potter's ego from being inflated.
Hermione told them how she always wondered why Regulus would take so much effort on a
portrait and then hide it from everyone else, or why he would write such detailed journals of
his life and just leave them there to find. She told them that she felt like Regulus knew
something or at least knew that there was something in his diaries that was important,
because he always reacted at the mention of them. And when Harry told her that his last
journal had things missing, she knew she was right.
At this, Sirius added, "Reggie instructed it not to speak of the journals unless the person knew
to ask about the missing one." And showed them the journal in question.
Narcissa turned to the portrait, "This is it then? What we--the things you asked me?"
"Yes, since I'm dead, I believe I found it."
She gasped, taking her hands to her lips.
He was about to finally discover what Narcissa knew that she never got to confess, something
that had a connection to Harry's ability to see from Voldemort's mind in his dreams.
All because Hermione got too curious.
"Cissy," Sirius called, "This cannot reach your husband. I don't care how shady he's now. You
will keep this from him."
She nodded, with no retort, no exasperated sigh. "He won't." Narcissa said, "It won't be my
first secret from my husband."
Sirius turned to Severus then, "This, right now, it's me putting my trust in you. Completely.
Letting the past be the past," Sirius shot a quick look at Harry and he understood. Severus
nodded.
Sirius took a deep breath.
"Reggie discovered why Voldemort didn't die that night. And how we can kill the bastard for
good." He told them. Severus inhaled. From the sofa, Harry and Hermione held hands. Sirius
opened the journal on the first page. "Summer 1978," he began, "I'm climbing ranks faster
than I expected to. I still don't understand how I can be of service with my last year at
Hogwarts about to begin, but I've been to every meeting this summer and to every skirmish.
My hands are not bloodied, because the killing curse is a blessing. And it's to them. Because
the curse doesn't like to be used as a mercy kill and it takes and takes and takes. Evan puked
for minutes and I would have as well if I had managed to keep anything down since Sirius'
graduation.'
'But this meeting is different. Bella is euphoric and congratulates me before we enter. She
goes on and on about being the Dark Lord's most trusted servant and she's so content about
being of use that I'm surprised she hasn't taken up as a cloak hanger, just so she can be
always useful. And maybe silent. Lucius is already there when we enter and he has the same
proud smirk Bella has. He's hiding something in his cloak, just so we don't see what it is, but
not enough that we don't know he's hiding something. He leaves and then it's just us and the
Dark Lord. Bella preens, I try not to shake. He's amused by both of our reactions. It's brief
and his requests are so odd that they leave me blank. He wants to keep something in Bella's
vault and wants my house elf."
Sirius turned the page and Severus saw that he had his hands shaking. Remus had a hand on
the back of Sirius' neck.
Narcissa was the first to speak. "I remember that day." She said, "Bella was gloating that her
family was indispensable to him. She told me that I should be proud that her husband, older
sister and baby cousin had all been chosen."
"Let me continue," Sirius said, "We will open for comments later." He turned the page and
took a deep breath. "Kreacher returned to me. He was by all means dead. It took me weeks to
nurse him back to life fully and to understand what had happened to him. What the Dark
Lord had asked him to do. Kreacher tells me of a cave with so many defences that anyone
walking in is likely to die. All of that for a locket.'
'I wonder why a locket could be of such importance that he was willing to sacrifice a
powerful house-elf from the House of Black to keep it safe. And why ask Bella to keep
something for him in her vault, if he had a cave like that? What is he hiding?" Sirius read and
turned another page. "This one is from the day before he got back to Hogwarts, Arrogance is
poison and the Dark Lord is slowly being drinking it. He's getting bolder in his actions and
his promises, he talks of being here for longer than any of us, of changing the world and
seeing it be born anew. Whatever it is, he seems certain that he can't die. I can only think
about that last meeting and believe these things are connected.'
'I spoke to Narcissa briefly, and tried asking her if she knew what Lucius got from the Dark
Lord. She doesn't know. Or doesn't want to tell me. I know better than to ask Bella." Sirius
looked up to Narcissa then, "So? Do you know or not?"
"Now I do. I didn't when he asked me." She replied, "Voldemort gave Lucius the diary. The
one he slipped into the Weasley girl's cauldron."
"What was written on it?" Sirius asked.
The kids had the same reaction, at once they seemed to realise Sirius hadn't been there for it.
That he had been in Azkaban.
"Nothing visible." Harry replied. "But it would write back to you if you wrote on it." He told
them, "It possessed Ginny and it made her open the Chamber of Secrets. In the end, it had
enough of life force that his sixteen-year-old form was almost corporeal."
But Sirius had gotten up and began pacing. "Fuck. It's another one."
"Of what?" Severus asked, any mention of that diary got his blood pressure rising. It felt so
wrong when he got near it, and Lucius was so desperate to get rid of it… To see it making a
comeback in their lives was not a good omen. "Can you move on with it?"
Sirius gave the journal to Remus, "Keep reading, I can't."
Remus nodded and picked up the journal. "This is after the first Hogsmeade visit of the year.
Bella agreed to visit me. I had to ask all the right questions to have her talking the way I
wanted her to. But that was the easy task, getting the information out of the library was the
difficult one. I couldn't tell my friends what I was looking for, afraid they'd see right through
me. I ended up telling Barty that it was my mission from the Dark Lord and he wanted me to
complete it by myself. Barty was eager to be of assistance in this case. After hours and hours
in the library, he told me his study trick: don't study what you think it's going to be asked in
the exam. Who got the highest scores before us? Find them and study what they studied.
Check out the same books they did. Look at Slughorn, he's a lazy fuck, do you really think he
changes his exams every year? Of course not." Hermione perked up at that information and
Severus could just see her using it for her O.W.Ls soon, "For once, Barty's crazy research
skills paid off. Instead of looking for what I thought I knew it was, I went after what the Dark
Lord had looked for. And there it was. A book that had been checked out only once in 1942 by
a single student. Him.'
'It was the foulest, most terrible piece of Dark Magic I had ever seen. It made sense he'd
believe himself to be indestructible with that. But it made me sick that he had done it more
than once. Three Horcruxes. A soul shattered in four pieces: inside a locket, the thing he gave
to Lucius, what he made Bella hide and whatever was left inside of him."
Severus felt his body sagging on the chair. Narcissa's hand shook. Remus looked confused
and thankfully, so did the kids. "He made Horcruxes," Severus said.
Sirius nodded, "Do you remember, Cissy?" He asked his cousin, "The day we read about it in
the Grimoire?" Narcissa only nodded. "We couldn't finish it. The pictures were grotesque and
the entire process was--it was just evil. To do it once felt wrong enough, but to do it--"
"You think there's more." Severus cut him off, caught up on his thoughts and what Sirius had
been saying before.
"Yes. The next bit, it's his conversation with Bella. He gets from her that it's a golden cup.
Another try at Barty's research system and Reggie found that Voldemort was obsessed with
the Founders, he checked out Hogwarts, a History dozens of times. Slytherin had a locket,
Helga had a cup, Rowena had--"
"The Diadem." Hermione and Narcissa replied together.
"He asked me to look for it." Narcissa added, "There are hundreds of heirlooms and other
pieces of jewellery in the Malfoy vault. He believed Lucius had it."
"But Lucius had a diary." Sirius finished, finally answering Severus' question. "So either he
gave up the theme or he got an extra one in there."
"Godric Gryffindor had the sword." Hermione reminded them because she too had read
Hogwarts, A History multiple times. "It can't be a Horcrux, as the sword only comes to
worthy Gryffindors. He couldn't have gotten it long enough to use it."
"It appeared to me in the Chamber of Secrets. I used it to kill the Basilisk." Harry told them.
"You might have to swing it again, Harry." Sirius said, in a terrible joke.
Severus snapped, "No, he won't. Go on, what else has Regulus written?"
Sirius scowled but continued. "He believed Voldemort had made four. One for each founder.
There are a few more entries about his meetings with Cissy." He paused and Narcissa tensed
minutely next to Severus. There. A secret. "His last entry is him writing that he planned to go
to that cave with Kreacher and destroy it. But since he had never seen one, he didn't know
how to destroy them." He paused and the silence that hung around them was a mournful one,
Sirius didn't need to add, "And now I know how my brother really died." as it was what all of
them were thinking.
"Call Kreacher." Narcissa told Sirius, "He's still alive. And if Reg died in that cave, that can
only mean he ordered Kreacher to return. That elf mostly raised Reg, he wouldn't have left
him to die. He would have died with him if there had been a choice."
"Let me speak to him," Regulus, the portrait, spoke and it was chilling. To hear his voice so
alive moments after speaking of his death.
"Kreacher!" Sirius called.
The elf popped inside the living room and immediately began his tirade at his master.
"Kreacher," Regulus said and the elf's ears stood up. The creature almost fell on his rags at
the sound of Regulus' voice.
"Master Reg!" The elf cried and scrambled to be close to the portrait. "Master Regulus!
Kreacher is sorry, so sorry, Kreacher wouldn't--Kreacher should have stayed--Kreacher is a
terrible elf--"
"No Kreacher, you are not." Regulus replied. "And it's fine. You did what I asked you to do."
At that Kreacher cried louder and his despair consumed his small body. "Kreacher tried!
Kreacher tried every day! Everything Kreacher tried but nothing worked. It's wicked! That's
what that is!"
"Where is it, Kreacher?" Regulus asked, "Bring it to us, Sirius and Narcissa can destroy it."
The elf glared at Sirius, but bowed to Narcissa, "Mistress Black, Kreacher is pleased to see
you again."
Sirius rolled his eyes. "Bring the locket to us Kreacher."
"Is it true?" The elf asked, "Disgraced Master can destroy it?"
"Yes, he can." Sirius replied curtly.
"Kreacher will bring it! Kreacher will bring it now!" And then he was gone.
"Can Disgraced Master destroy it?" Theodore, punctual as always, asked.
"Yes." Sirius replied, turning to his godson, "I will do what Harry did to destroy the Diary."
"Erm--" Harry began, scratching his head, "I stabbed it with a Basilisk fang."
"Wonderful." Theodore said, "Does anyone have a Basilisk fang lying around? I don't know
Remus, maybe in the garden?"
Before Remus could reply to that comment from his recently-adopted child, Kreacher was
back. He placed the locket on the table between them.
Narcissa looked at it for a second and then turned to watch Harry. The boy, Severus noted,
was looking at it with his head cocked to the side. His brows furrowed.
"It's--It's hissing."
It was in fact silent.
Narcissa shot a quick look at her cousin. Sirius had his hands in fists and his jaw locked. But
most worryingly, his eyes were red with the threat of tears.
"Thank you Kreacher." Narcissa said. "We can take it from here."
"I want to see it destroyed."
"There are kids present, there won't be any destruction happening today." She told him.
"Take me to Grimmauld," Regulus said, quite alert for a portrait, "I miss home terribly."
Kreacher sobbed at that. "Of course! Master Regulus, will be home again! Yes! Kreacher has
kept Master Regulus' home clean for him."
"You and I still have a long conversation between us, little brother."
"You know where to find me," Regulus replied and with a loud pop, he and Kreacher were
gone.
"The three of you," Sirius called, "Bed. Now."
"What?" They echoed. "Why?"
"Adult talk."
"Adult talk?" Harry asked, "If it weren't for me, none of you would have found any of this!"
"And I was the one to find his portrait!"
"And we thank you for your service." Sirius replied. He was anxious. Whatever he read about
Regulus and Narcissa's conversations in Hogsmeade had set him on edge. And he didn't want
the kids to know.
"Go now," Severus said. "You did more than enough. The two of you. Brilliant, as always."
He rested a hand on each sibling. "Remember what I told you?" Severus asked Harry, "It’s
not your job to do so. It's ours." He repeated.
Harry nodded. "Will you tell me if I need to know?" He asked lowly. Severus nodded. "Okay.
Good night then."
Harry went and Hermione was more disgruntled to accept, needing Theodore to tug her.
"Goodnight Dad, Sirius, Remus." It didn't escape Narcissa that Hermione didn't look at her as
she left.
They waited for the sound of the doors closing and not enough, cast privacy spells that would
hold against Hermione's spying skills.
"He listens to you." Sirius commented, looking at Severus quite crestfallen.
"He does." Severus replied. He still didn't know exactly how they had gotten there, but
Severus Snape now had Harry Potter's respect.
Sirius decided that was a conversation for another day. Whatever he needed to say that the
kids couldn't hear took precedence. It made sense he took hold of Remus's hand because he
took the floor with him as he said it:
"Harry is a Horcrux." Sirius said.
Chapter End Notes
So!!!! They know! Not only about Regulus' portrait but the Horcruxes as well! What did
you think about the Black brother's reunion? Yes, I took liberties with Macron's
interview because I was obsessed with it. I don't know the "oui, peut-être," bit is SO
Regulus-coded, I had to include it. The French bits translate to:
"Do you think it made me happy to keep it a secret from you?"

"You tell me!"
"Because since you wouldn't listen to me, I wanted something that would make you see
me."
"I always saw you"
Thank you to fantometta on twitter for the french!! Much appreciate it!
Annnnd Our favourite group of misfits is taking things into their hands and I'm so
excited about it!
And because so many of you seem to like Lucius Malfoy, there was more of him in this
chapter as well.
The title and the quote at the beginning come from Misguided Ghosts by Paramore.
There are bits taken from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, they don't belong
to me.
the long-term cliff edge of the world
Chapter Notes
Erm... This chapter got out of hand. A lot. It's 14k words and it brings the fifth year to a
close. Good thing it's a Sunday, huh?
I'm putting the disclaimer right here right now because I don't want any of you suffering
through it: SIRIUS BLACK WILL NOT DIE HERE. I refuse to kill him. You can go
ahead and read 14k words knowing that he will not die. but this is a long and heavy
chapter, I teared up a bit halfway through it and I was the one writing it.
Every time burn through the world

I'd see that the world
it burns through me
Chapter Fifty-Seven
April ended and the only thing still on Severus' mind was the things Sirius and Narcissa had
told them. Narcissa and Regulus had discovered that Voldemort had been curious about what
else he could do as a Parseltongue, that he wanted more than just speak with snakes, as the
animals weren’t that big conversationalists. By using Regulus’ unimpeded access to the
Hogwarts Library as a Head Boy, Voldemort had made him an errand boy for the books he
needed.
Voldemort wanted to create a mental connection to the snakes, to have access to their
thoughts and eyes wherever they were and learn how to possess them.
Even with the many books Voldemort had accessed through Regulus - who didn’t even need
to interfere - he couldn’t find the information he wanted. As Regulus and Narcissa very well
knew, the only wizards and witches who had the ability to possess animals and establish this
mental connection Voldemort so treasured were the Noble House of Black. Voldemort only
ever needed to look at the family crest to see the ravens there.
While Regulus hadn’t shared with Narcissa the fact he knew Voldemort was making
Horcruxes, after their research, they discovered that the process of creating this mental
connection was quite similar to the one of making a Horcrux: it was necessary to sever a part
of own’s soul and put on the living creature they wished to connect with. That was why
Narcissa had always been weird and inquisitive about Harry’s dreams. For her, Voldemort
had achieved this power, but not with the snakes he had planned.
Sirius had been brightly quick, as adamant to admit as Severus had been, but Harry’s skill as
a parseltongue, the pain he usually felt in his scar and most recently, the forays into
Voldemort’s mind was not the result of a mental connection, but a non-planned Horcrux.
After all, Voldemort had gone to Godric’s Hollow to kill the boy, not to share his mind. He
would never willingly create such a mental connection to the child that had been prophesied
to destroy him.
And as Narcissa had reminded them, Voldemort had recently acquired a snake. A snake that
after Arthur Weasley’s attack they knew he could possess. The question that remained,
however, was whether Voldemort had just learned the magic behind what he wanted or he
had created another Horcrux with Nagini and achieved the same goal.
Lucius was the one with often contact with Nagini, but not even Narcissa wanted to tell him
what they had discovered. As it was, he was often subjected to the Cruciatus curse and they
couldn’t risk Lucius’ shields cracking after an attack. Voldemort never cast the Cruciatus
without forcing his way through one’s mind. A look at Narcissa that night and they both
knew it would fall on them to discover how important was Nagini to Voldemort.
Not that they didn’t have more pressing matters to attend. Namely the boy with a Horcrux
inside him. Harry had destroyed the diary, but all of them would sooner fall to Voldemort’s
feet than destroy Harry. So a way to remove the Horcrux from Harry without killing him was
crucial.
Sirius wanted to be the one to destroy the locket and finish what his brother had started.
Access to the castle was limited without Dumbledore and with Umbridge watching every
fireplace, there was a very small chance that they could get Sirius inside and down to the
Chamber of Secrets. Especially because they needed Harry to open it.
They had agreed that Severus would retrieve more of the Basilisk venom from the Chamber
of Secrets and craft it into some sort of weapon. Carrying fangs around was quite impractical.
Once that was done, Sirius could destroy the locket then.
Severus would search for a way to remove the Horcrux from Harry, Narcissa would try to
find a way to get the cup out of her sister’s vault and Remus and Sirius would research and
try to find the missing Diadem.
But of course, he still had his full-time job to contend to. Which currently included giving
career advice to his fifth-year students. Half of them had parents whose career choices
Severus couldn’t recommend they follow and the other half had family empires as
inheritances. All in all, he had a long day ahead of him.
“So,” he drawled, “What do you want to do with your life after Hogwarts?” He asked
Millicent Bulstrode for his first appointment of the day.
“I'd like to get a job in the Ministry, Sir.”
He refrained from scowling. “There are many different departments in the Ministry, Miss
Bulstrode. Do you want to work with Magical Creatures? Magical Transportation? What is it
that interests you?”
“I like sports.” She replied. “I wouldn’t want to work a desk job. Something that moves?”
“Something that moves.” He repeated. “Your current grades don’t suffice for the Auror
Program.” He told her, looking at her sheet. “There has been quite a decline in your grades
from the past year to this one.” He commented, aware of the reason.
“Yes Sir, I’ve been struggling more this year.”
“Any particular reason?” He asked her, “Increased workload? Maybe fewer hours dedicated
to study and homework?”
She worked her jaw and picked her nails. “I've been having a bit of trouble studying by
myself.” Miss Bulstrode said.
“I see.” He replied. “Well, if you can put your grades where they were before, I’m certain you
can manage something in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. It moves.
Maybe the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad?”
“It's an option, yes.”
“Good. It requires three N.E.W.Ts. Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration and
Charms. But Professor McGonagall only accepts students who had at least Exceed
Expectations in her O.W.Ls, as does Professor Flitwick, both subjects you are currently a
mere Acceptable.”
“And about Defence, Sir?”
“It depends of course on the poor soul who will replace Umbridge next year, but I’d hope for
an Exceed Expectations as well."
Miss Bulstrode nodded and grabbed the leaflets he gave her.
After her, he had Mr Crabbe, whose appointment had been brief when he declared that the
future he had in mind didn’t require any official exams. “Mr Crabbe, currently the career path
you aim for is not sanctioned by the ministry. Your father, for example, made a very
comfortable seat for himself at the Department of Magical Transportation.” He told the boy,
“Broom Regulatory Control is a very optimal option. Very little work, you would have time
for your… desired extracurriculars…”
“What do I need?"
Severus sighed, “Passing reading and writing skills for one, and at least two N.E.W.Ts, the
subjects are open to choose.”
“Can I have Divination and Care of Magical Creatures, then?” He asked.
“Yes.”
“Cool!”
“Splendid,” Severus replied.
Later, Miss Davies came with her own leaflets and plenty of questions about the Department
of the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. After telling her that yes, a position in
the Goblin Liaison office would expect certain knowledge of Gobbledegook, she left satisfied
that every other area expected between two and three N.E.W.Ts in subjects she had the
necessary average for.
Gregory Goyle was offered the same suggestion as Vincent Crabbe, but for a position with
the Floo Network Authority instead.
His daughter came after lunch, he and Minerva had decided to see the pair of siblings at the
same time. Just in case Umbridge decided to participate. She would have to choose one.
Hermione had wide eyes and a pile of leaflets in her hands. She didn’t bother with a seat in
front of him like the others, coming round his table and standing next to him. “I have no idea
what to do, Dad.”
“You can do virtually everything.” He replied.
“I know that.” She replied, unaware of how conceited she sounded. She was his daughter
after all.
“You can always continue to study.” He told her, “Both Oxford and Cambridge have Magical
Departments.”
“They do?” She asked, her eyes shining. “I've always dreamed of Oxford.”
He chuckled. “Yes, but they are much more research-oriented than their muggle counterparts.
Witches and wizards who enter university often remain in Academia and become masters in
their fields."
“It would be nice, I think. To go on to university. But just like professionally, there are so
many interesting things to pursue, to make a choice sounds so… final,” Hermione said
dejectedly. “I like healing and would love to learn more, but I also have a very deep interest
and concern about magical creatures… Well, don’t get me started with what I believe should
be changed about muggle relations—”
“Do all.” He told her. Hermione blinked.
“What? How could—”
“Being Minister of Magic.” He told her. “You would be able to do it all.”
He saw her cheeks reddening, but the smile on her face was blinding. The thought had been
there already, somewhere deep inside her. Her thirst for everything made it obvious. Merlin
knew she had the brains for it, the morals were also a given… Salazar help him, she would
even have the influence.
“Where would I start?” She asked him. It wasn’t a question coming from ignorance, she was
literally asking him where would he recommend her to start to become Minister of Magic.
“Here.” He pointed at the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. “The
regulations in place for all of the offices are outdated and mostly biased and discriminatory.
You can make good out of it. Many of those categorised as Beasts are not really Beasts. The
Werewolves and the Centaurs. Start with them and climb up, from there you can move to
Law Enforcement, with time, the seat will be yours.”
She grinned and jumped, literally on him. Hugging him.
Hermione hugged him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed. He smelled her
hair and the urge to cry almost swallowed him. He put his arms around her and squeezed
back. It had taken him sixteen years, but he finally had his little girl in his arms. “Thanks,
Dad.” She said and as she pulled back, kissed his cheek.
“Anything for you,” he replied. Truly, he’d remove Fudge right now to put Hermione in his
place if she asked him. Hermione gathered her things to leave. “Won't you as about which
N.E.W.Ts you will need?”
“Oh, I’m not worried about that.” She replied sheepishly.
“Of course, not.” He answered.
Miss Greengrass had been about to knock when Hermione opened the door to leave. The two
friends greeted one another as they passed.
“Miss Greengrass,” he greeted. He noted that she had a leaflet in her hands.
“Hello, professor.” She replied as she sat down. The girl turned the leaflet around and he saw
that it was for a School of Fashion and Arts in France. “I want to keep the family business.”
She told him, “This school is a two-year program in Paris. They only have the information
regarding Beauxbatons students though.”
“It's much the same,” he told her. “The only difference is that they sit for their exams in their
sixth year and their grades have different names, but they are all equivalent. What do you
need?”
“Très bien for Charms and Transfiguration and Bien for Potions. They recommend another
Bien, but the subject is up to us to decide. What do you recommend?”
“Arithmancy would have been interesting, but you didn’t take it as an elective,” she shook
her head, “This is what happens when you choose the safety options for elective…” he sighed
as there was nothing Divination and Care of Magical Creatures could do for her. “Defence
can be a very strong tiebreaker, but Herbology can be relevant for you. Natural tinctures and
the sort.”
The girl hummed, “Outstanding for Charms and Transfigurations, Exceed Expectations for
Potions, Defence and Herbology.” She shrugged, “I can do that.”
Well, at least Severus didn't need to stroke anyone’s ego in his house.
Draco was next. He didn’t forgo the chair as Hermione had done, but he took quite the liberty
with it.
“Hello, Uncle Sev” Draco greeted as he sat down, sounding quite dispirited.
“What are your plans for the future?” Severus asked.
“Do they matter?” The boy asked.
“Yes.”
“It doesn’t feel like they do." He said with a shrug, "Tell me, what are the odds of me
becoming an Auror?”
“You have perfect grades, there’s no reason to believe you wouldn’t make it.”
“I know I have perfect grades,” Draco scoffed. “You and I both know I’m not talking about
grades.” He replied, “Say we have a full-on war in a few years—it’s moving towards it and
you know it—if Voldemort loses, do you think my family gets out unscathed that I can apply
for the training? And if Voldemort wins, Aurors would just be Death Eaters without the
mask.”
“Draco, I know it’s looking bleak.” He told the boy and honestly? Bleak was him being nice.
But do you know what I recommended to Hermione?”
“No.”
“Minister of Magic.” He replied and Draco grinned, “Does it look like the world we live in
now would accept her?” Draco shook his head. “But I told her and she’s going to do it. I just
know it.”
“You favour her so much Uncle, it’s really such a disparate favouritism.” He said and then
smirked, leaning back on the chair, “If she’s Minister of Magic, I will be the Trophy
Husband. It’s not like I need to work anyway. I can buy whomever we’d need to get whatever
law or regulations she wants to be passed—”
“You will slow down right now. Slow to a crawl. Possibly to a backward drag.” He told his
godson.
The boy only laughed, clearly done with career advice. “Will we ever talk about it?” Draco
asked. Severus saw the boy's smirk was still in place. Severus glared at the boy. “You know
we are together.”
“If you think you don’t have a future in your career plans what makes you think you have a
future with her?” Severus asked curtly, not so softly reminding Draco that he was still dating
Hermione in secret.
Draco’s entire expression closed off and he glared at him. “You don’t have to be an ass.”
“Draco, you have yet to see me being an ass to you,” Severus replied.
The boy rose, “I will get the O.W.Ls necessary for the Aurora program.” He told him and by
the boy’s look alone, Severus knew what was implied.
Theodore came next. Gone was the time the boy wore his uniform correctly. The shirt was
untucked, the tie loose and he had black polish on his nails. On his shoes, an all too familiar
pair of boots with yellow stitching.
If it weren’t for the blue eyes, the aristocratic nose and the too-ingrained poshness, there
would be no discussion.
“I spent the last five years thinking about what to do because I was desperate to leave the
Estate.” The boy said as a greeting. Truly, the liberty these kids had taken with him was
alarming. "I have down to the details what I need for each area that interests me and how
much I can expect to get paid and which options give me more freedom to be independent.”
He told him, as Severus knew he would. He had seen boys like Theo before. Avery had done
the same a few years ago, as had Evan Rosier’s little brother. “But I don’t need that anymore.
I don’t want to leave home now.”
“You cannot be unemployed like your father,” Severus replied and watched the scowl appear
on Theodore’s expression. And then added, “Remus lives off Sirius but he is at least
academically accomplished.”
It was instantaneous, Theodore’s whole face changed. He realised then, that Severus hadn’t
been speaking of Adeodatus, that he had called Remus Theodore’s father and clearly, that
was better than any career advice he could ever receive.
“Am I ridiculous?” The boy asked, “For wanting a family?”
“No, Theodore.”
“Did you really tell Hermione to become Minister of Magic?”
“Yes.”
“So I will become her security guard.”
“Theodore…”
“She’s my family too.” The boy replied.
“I know.”
“I love her.”
“I know.” I do too.
“She changed my life.”

“She changed mine too.” Severus sighed, “As much as it pleases me that two of the most
promising young boys Slytherin has seen in years want nothing more than to serve my
daughter, I must suggest something else.”
The boy quirked his head to the side, “What did Draco say?”
“I'm not repeating it.”
“He said something ridiculous, didn’t he?”
“Indeed.”
“All right then, I will think of something,” Theodore said with a shrug. “I like Runes. I like
secrets. Department of Mysteries it is, then.” He said, clearly taking less than two seconds to
think of something.
“Go away, Theodore.”
After he left, Miss Parkinson came sauntering in, “I will marry rich,” she declared. Severus
just blinked. “The one I have in mind might be a bit problematic for some, but it’s
promising.”
“Is he aware of his future?” Severus asked.
“Not yet,” Pansy said with a shrug and then smirked to herself. “He doesn’t seem very
opposed actually.”
The memory he glimpsed of a raven-haired girl in Harry’s mind came forth and for a moment
he wondered whether the girl had been Miss Chang as he first believed to be.
“And after you marry rich, what are you going to do with your time?”
“Wrangle Parkinson Industries from my father, of course. Use his stocks to buy the Holyhead
Harpies. Maybe make my own team.”
“Do you have any questions about your O.W.L.s Miss Parkinson?”
“Yes, actually.” She said, “How many are Daphne going for?”
“Five, I believe.”
The girl hummed, “Okay. So I will go for six.”
And then she left.
Thankfully, Severus only had Zabini left. Another one who didn’t need to spare a single
thought about his career choices.
"Maybe I will specialise in wand making and take Ollivanders out of business, he has had the
monopoly for quite some time now,” the boy said after Severus told him he could go for a
Potions career or something in Runes.
“Centralised market is never good.” Severus agreed, he was tired.
“Don't you think it’s curious how his name is Ollivanders and he makes wands? It’s like if
Potter decided to follow a career in pottery.” He then proceeded to laugh at his own joke,
“Please, tell him to pursue pottery. He could open a shop and call The Boy Who Potted.”
“Get out Mr Zabini.” Severus snapped.
“Quite homophobic sir, I heard you kicked Theo out too—“
“Out Mr Zabini. Now.”
The second Dumbledore returned Severus would ask for a raise.
Severus used the Hogsmeade weekend to go to the Chamber of Secrets. Thanks to Umbridge,
Harry had been forbidden from visiting the village until graduation, so he didn’t have
anything to do instead.
“—She called Umbridge incompetent to her face, it was brilliant.” The boy was telling him.
Apparently, Minerva also had quite the experience of giving career advice. “And then
Professor McGonagall got to her feet too, and in her case, this was a much more impressive
move. She towered over Professor Umbridge and—“ The boy dropped his tone and attempted
to copy Minerva’s, “‘Potter, I will assist you to become an Auror if it is the last thing I do! If
I have to coach you nightly I will make sure you achieve the required results!’ Honestly, you
should have seen it.”
“I saw enough on my end.” He replied to the boy. “Zabini suggested you take up Pottery as a
career.”
“Why was he talking about my career in his appointment?”
“A very important question, indeed.” He replied and the boy chuckled.
They had arrived at the girl’s toilet. Harry showed him which one was the correct sink and
Severus noted the small snake carved on the faucet.
“How do we open it?”
“Just say open in Parseltongue,” Harry replied and then proceeded to hiss what Severus
assumed was the correct word. “And then we slide down.”
Severus whirled at him. “I'm certainly not sliding anywhere.”
“Then I will go by myself.”
“It's a pipeline! I don’t really remember going out of there, but I sure remember the way
down. We slide.”
“Harry. Do you really think Voldemort would be sliding down every time he needed to go
down there?” He asked the boy, who just cocked his head to the side. “Ask for stairs.”
“What? In Parseltongue?”
“Obviously.”
The boy rolled his eyes but complied. Surely, what was before a plummet to one’s death, now
was a circular staircase going down. “Huh.” He said. “Didn't think of that before.”
“Not surprising.” He said. And then they began the climb down.
The tunnel was a disgusting sort of place, with dead animals’ carcasses and miles of dead
skin. Harry was pointing out places as if it was a tourist attraction “This was where Lockart
tried to curse us” and “This is where I got separated from Ron.”
Harry had to use Parseltongue once more before they entered the actual chamber. The door
was quite reminiscent of the one in Slytherin. Severus wondered if the boy would be able to
enter it just by speaking to the snake there, no password required. He would never ask the
boy to check.
“It's so weird,” Harry said, once they found themselves in front of the giant snake. The
sculpture of Salazar Slytherin was behind it. Severus could still see a pool of blood and right
on cue, Harry pointed at it. “It was here that Fawkes healed my wound.”
“Remove the fangs. And for the love of Merlin, be careful.”
Harry muttered something under his breath that thankfully for the boy, he didn’t catch.
As Severus started from one side and the boy from the other, he began to think. Harry had
stabbed the Horcrux with the same fang that had pierced through his skin. The Horcrux had
been destroyed, but the one inside of Harry hasn’t. Was it because Fawkes had been quick to
heal him? Severus chanced a look at the boy’s forehead. It still bled when Harry was in
intense pain, maybe the scar was the answer? Could he find a way to pierce it with Basilisk
venom while keeping it from spreading? He might need Phoenix’s tears too, but getting the
bird to cry was quite the accomplishment. He would need Dumbledore for that one or he
could use his contacts, but Phoenix’s tears weren’t something he could easily afford. Narcissa
could. Sirius too.
“I'm fucked, aren’t I?” Harry asked.
“Language.” Severus reprimanded. “Did you do anything that you would like to confess?”
He asked.
“None that I’d like to confess.” Harry retorted. “But you have this look in your eyes. Sirius
and Remus too. Hell, even Narcissa. You still haven’t told me what you talked about after we
got kicked out. And I just know it was about me. It always is.”
“I know it’s hard for you to wrap your head around this but Harry, you are not the centre of
the universe.”
“Stop evading.”
Severus looked up. Harry had an armful of Basilisk’s fangs, his green eyes were challenging.
Severus knew Harry could handle it. But he just didn’t want to give that burden to him yet.
“Then stop asking.”
“Don't be difficult.”
“Look who’s talking.”
“Mum would want you to tell me.”
Severus glared at the boy. “Mum would want you to be safe and to concern yourself with
whatever fifteen-year-old boys think about these days.”
“Is this what you are doing then? Keeping me safe?”
“Extensively. For the past five years.” He replied and conjured a bag so he could store the
fangs inside. Harry threw the ones he had inside as well.
The walk back was silent. The boy might have been quiet, but his mind wasn’t.
“Harry,” he called as they were about to climb the stairs back up. “You will soon learn
everything you need to, but let me be the one to carry this burden for a while longer.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to.” He replied, “Because your load is heavy enough as it is.”
“Okay.”
If only talking to the boy had always been that easy.
“Daphne got herself a girlfriend,” Blaise announced as they were punted across the swamp
Fred and George had left as a parting gift in the fifth-floor corridor in the East Wing of the
castle.
“Salazar Blaise, you are worse than Pansy.” Daphne groaned behind Hermione.
“You did?” Hermione asked.
“Not exactly. But Blaise caught us kissing and—”
“Kissing?” Blaise squeaked and turned to look at them. The boat trembled and Filch barked
at them to stop moving. Once they had safely crossed, he continued, “Miss Greengrass, there
was a lot of skin on display to be just kissing.”
Hermione laughed and Daphne shoved her playfully to the side. “Don't laugh. Not everyone
has a nice private room. Some of us don’t have the privilege.”
“I still can’t believe you are all using the Room of Requirement to make out.”
“It’s getting quite crowded by the way,” Blaise laughed. “I found Pansy there the other day.
She shoved whomever she was making out inside an old cabinet and refused to move until
Theo and I left.”
“I’m dying to catch her,” Daphne said, nodding her head. “I think it’s Longbottom.”
“Longbottom?” Hermione asked.
“It didn’t sound like Longbottom,” Blaise replied.
“She's spending a lot of time with him. She says it’s Herbology. Please. The closest Pansy
gets to a plant is when she has to write her name.”
Hermione snorted. She somehow could see Pansy and Neville, but at the same time, it
seemed improbable. “Don't think I didn’t realise you successfully turned the conversation
around Miss Greengrass,” Hermione called. “And who are you making out with that had
Blaise scandalised?”
“I didn’t say scandalised,” he replied and winked at Daphne.
“You are a pig. Theo deserves better.” Daphne replied and Blaise gasped in offence, “And it’s
Padma, the Ravenclaw twin. But don’t tell anyone, she’s fine with me telling you guys, but
she’s not out.”
“Of course,” Hermione replied.
“Not telling anyone.” Blaise agreed.
Daphne rolled her eyes, “You shouted her name and said ‘Hooray, another for the club’ when
you found us.”
Hermione lost it, “Oh Blaise, you are quite terrible.”
They arrived at the History of Magic classroom, where their friends were already there. In a
surprising turn of events, Harry was chatting with both Theo and Pansy.
“Love,” Blaise called and Theo turned, “these girls are terrible they are saying you need to
dump me.”
“Why? What did you do?” Theo asked.
“THEODORE!”
“For Merlin’s sake Zabini shut it” Pansy winced and used Harry’s textbook to whack Blaise
on the head.
“Where's Ron?” Hermione asked, noticing that the classroom was missing one red-headed
student.
“He used one of those Skiving Snackboxes to miss out on Umbridge’s class just now. He’s in
the infirmary.”
“I'm surprised you didn’t join him,” Daphne said.
“What? And miss History of Magic?” He asked, his green eyes sparkling with mischief “So
enlightening.”
Draco had just arrived and he sat down next to her, kissing her soundly on the cheek.
Hermione looked around with wide eyes. Draco grinned at her reaction. “Got rid of them.”
“What did you do?”
“Umbridge-itis, they are calling it?” He asked and the others all sniggered. “Might have
slipped something on their drinks earlier. Your dad is dealing with them.”
“Draco!” Hermione said and only then she finally realised that the only Slytherin students
present were their group of friends. “Milli and Tracy?”
“Oh no, that was me,” Pansy said.
Since Fred and George’s departure, things had been chaotic. For one thing, they had not left
instructions on how to remove the swamp and for another, every student seemed eager to fill
the vacant positions of Troublemakers-in-Chief. Someone had thrown a hairy-snouted niffler
into Umbridge’s office one day, which promptly tore the place apart in its search for shiny
objects, leapt on Umbridge on her reentrance, and tried to gnaw the rings off her stubby
fingers. At least that was the story going around Ravenclaw. Dungbombs and Stinkpellets
were dropped so frequently in the corridors that everyone was walking around with Bubble-
Head spells. Professor Flitwick found it fantastic, after all, it was an advanced spell and many
second years had mastered the spell already.
Hermione had no idea the twins had sold that many Skiving Snackboxes before leaving
Hogwarts, but everyone seemed to have at least a couple. Umbridge only had to enter her
classroom for the students assembled there to faint, vomit, develop dangerous fevers, or else
spout blood from both nostrils. Madam Pomfrey had officially called it Umbridge-itis just the
day before, deeming it a suitable name since Ground Zero had been in her class. Umbridge-
itis’ symptoms included bleeding, swooning, sweating, and vomiting.
However, it was Peeves, in Hermione’s opinion who was responsible for the worst of it. He
was always cackling madly, soaring through the school, upending tables, bursting out of
blackboards, and toppling statues and vases. Twice he shut Mrs Norris inside suits of armour,
from which she was rescued, yowling loudly, by Filch. He would invade classes - Umbridge’s
- and smash lanterns and snuff out candles, juggle burning torches over the heads of
screaming students. Every day bathrooms would be out-of-order because he flooded them by
pulling off all the taps in the bathrooms. The morning before, Peeves had dropped a bag of
tarantulas in the middle of the Great Hall during breakfast.
And almost as if Hermione had been thinking about him too hard, the poltergeist swept
inside. He was more corporeal than Binns and decided to fly back and forth through the
ghost, pulling faces and making sounds. “You know,” Harry commented, “I saw Professor
McGonagall the other day walk right past Peeves, who was determinedly loosening a crystal
chandelier, and I swear she told him that it unscrewed the other way.”
Neville, who had moved during class to sit with them, commented “I saw Professor Sprout
preparing Dungbombs for him the other day.”
It was pandemonium, especially because they were mere days away from their O.W.Ls. Not
even the library was safe from the chaos, so students had to make do in their Common
Rooms, making it overpopulated and bound to constant outbursts of panic.
“I wish they would be slacker with us,” Pansy groaned, “But no. I still have detention with
Professor Snape to attend to.”
“You know,” Daphne commented, “I heard him and Professor McGonagall talking about it
the other day. He’s not punishing you for putting McLaggen in the infirmary, but because you
gave Gryffindor the Quidditch Cup.”
“How would I know that Weasley would perform?” She asked exasperatedly. Neither
Hermione nor Harry had watched that game because Hagrid had asked them to come with
him to meet a member of his family. Hermione couldn’t believe her eyes and ears at the sight
of Grawp. Not only had Hagrid brought a giant to the school grounds but wanted them to
teach English to him.
“He had been practising quite a lot.” Harry replied with a smirk, “Is it nice? Being the
Gryffindor Queen?”
Harry was whacked on the head after that. Pansy was living her biggest nightmare.
Gryffindors of all years were thanking her and Ron, went as far as to ask her out in thanks.
Hermione and Daphne had to prod her out of the bathroom after Pansy locked herself in
saying she had never been more humiliated in her entire life.
Curiously, while the other Gryffindors all roared with laughter after Ron’s proposition, Harry
was the one to tell him off.
Hermione looked between Pansy, Harry and Neville. There was something going on. Neville
would blush at the sight of Pansy and even stutter sometimes, but only when she would
actively flirt with him. He wasn’t afraid of her anymore. Actually, he didn’t seem to mind any
of Hermione’s friends. It was clear, Pansy found Neville interesting and would probably
make a move on him, but she hadn’t yet. Which…Hermione turned to her brother, who
hadn’t said a single thing about Cho since the whole Marietta fiasco but was currently
sporting a fingernail mark right behind his ear, where his hairline ended. Hermione looked at
Pansy’s black-painted nails and she knew, just then, they had been the ones on her brother’s
neck.
She had been so blind. The number of inside jokes, all the smirking between them… Those
two had been sitting together for History of Magic for quite some time and Hermione could
recall a single class where she remembered looking at them, almost as if…
Hermione gasped, “I'm so stupid.” She said.
“Please, we are days away from the exams, if you are saying this now, the rest of us are
doomed,” Neville told her. The others all nodded and looked at her quite worriedly.
How long had this been happening? How far had they gone? Harry had gotten his first kiss
before Christmas, so surely it started somewhere after… But he was going out with Cho at
the time, unless… Hermione’s mouth fell open, she turned on her brother. “You—I can’t
believe you!”
Theo blew out a breath, “Okay, it’s just sibling chaos. We are safe.”
“Whatever it is, I can explain.” He told her. And then pointed at Binns, who was still trying to
teach with Peeves inside of him. “Shouldn't we pay attention to him? The O.W.Ls are vastly
approaching, huh? What do you say, Pans?”
“Don't bring Pansy into this.” She snapped and his green eyes widened.
“Oh.” He said, “Oh, okay. This. After Binns, maybe? Or could we wait until after the
exams?” He made a face at her, panicking and pleading at the same time.
“Oh boy,” Draco laughed, “You are so getting Hermione Grangered.”
Harry glared at Draco, “And you are so not ending up with my sister.”
“Harry.” She called, “You are going to be very quiet.”
He nodded and for the first in five years, he began listening and taking notes to what Binns
was saying. A positive thing, she would consider, as the teachers were no longer setting them
homework or giving them new material. Lessons were devoted to reviewing those topics the
teachers thought most likely to come up in the exams.
But he did bolt the moment the class ended.
Blaise was sniggering, Theo was shaking his head and saying something about the Boy-Who-
Lived being afraid of his own sister.
Harry proved to be quite the evader because he successfully managed to avoid her in the days
that came but apparently had found the time to warn Pansy, for the raven-haired girl was
being quite wary around Hermione. And once her father gave them the dates and times of
their exams, Hermione all but put that aside. She had her O.W.Ls to worry about. They were
spread over two successive weeks, with the theory exams in the mornings and the practice in
the afternoons. The practical Astronomy examination would, of course, take place at night.
Hermione studied as if her life depended on it. Meanwhile, a flourishing black-market trade
in aids to concentration, mental agility, and wakefulness had sprung up in the fifth and
seventh years. More than once she considered taking up one but desisted after a student got
sent to the Hospital Wing because of something he bought.
On the morning of the first exam, Vince was looking at her almost as if he was about to beg
for forgiveness and demand a miracle out of Hermione. Daphne and Pansy were revising,
asking questions to one another in between bites of their toasts.
Once breakfast was over, the fifth and seventh years milled around in the entrance hall while
the other students went off to lessons. Then, at half-past nine, they were called forward class
by class to reenter the Great Hall. The four House tables had been removed and replaced
instead with many individual desks, all facing the staff-table end of the Hall where Professor
McGonagall stood facing them. The bracelet on her wrist burned and she saw Draco’s
message. Be brilliant.
She looked for him and shot him a smile, mouthing I love you to him before taking her seat.
Two hours later, Hermione found that the examinations wouldn’t be too terrible after all.
After lunch, they found themselves gathered in the chamber to the side of the Great Hall for
the practical exam. Waiting anxiously for their names to be called. Pansy and Daphne held
hands, while Theo held her, his arms around her shoulders.
Her name was called. Trembling, she pulled away from Theo, replaced Pansy’s hand around
Daphne’s and together with Anthony Goldstein and Gregory Goyle entered the Great Hall.
“It's good that we have one another in every exam.” Daphne said at dinner later that day,
“Just standing next to Hermione makes things so much easier.” She said and leaned over,
resting her head on Hermione’s shoulder, “Thank you. I love you. Leave him, be with me
instead.”
Draco, since he couldn’t exactly defend himself, settled for kicking Daphne’s shin under the
table. She only laughed.
“Not everyone,” Blaise complained. “I'm literally in the worst group.” He said with a sag,
“You’ve got Granger, Theo and Draco are together, and Pansy—”
“I'm by myself as well.” Pansy retorted. Hermione only laughed and Pansy grew red in the
cheeks.
“What's going on?” Daphne asked, her eyes narrowed. “The two of you are being so weird
lately.”
“Nothing.” They both replied at the same time, convincing no one.
Daphne shook his head, “You know what, this can’t wait. We have Transfiguration tomorrow.
I have no time for this.”
The week passed in a blur of nerves. If someone asked, she had no idea what she ate during
the week. It seemed that the only thing she did was revise, write her exams, practice her
spells and cast spells. And then repeat.
Their Astronomy exam had been interrupted by Umbridge trying to take Hagrid and
Professor McGonagall taking four stunners to the chest. She had rushed from the Astronomy
Tower to his father’s office, but he wasn’t there. She wanted to wait, but Blaise dragged her
to their common room, “We have our last exam tomorrow. Come on, there’s nothing to be
done now.”
“What if—“
“Nothing happened to him Hermione, he’s fine,” Blaise told her, following her line of
thought. Umbridge had gotten rid of Trewlaney, then Dumbledore, now Hagrid and probably
McGonagall. And her father was nowhere to be found.
In her room, she called Harry through the mirror and found Neville on the other side, who
took it to her brother. “What is it?” He asked, “Neville said you were shouting bloody
murder.”
“Check the map.” Hermione said, her voice shaky, “Dad’s not in his office nor his private
quarters. Tell me if he’s in the castle,”
Harry nodded and she caught glimpses of the Gryffindor common room through the mirror as
he climbed to his room. She heard fumbling, the sound of the trunk opening and closing and
then, “He's not here.” Harry said. “No in the castle.”
“Fuck.” Hermione said, “Do you think she got him too?”
“No,” Harry replied, shaking his head. “He’s too smart for her. He probably has been called
away. You know. That thing.”
Hermione nodded. “Yeah. Okay. He’s fine.”
“He is,” Harry replied, trying to soothe her. “You will see him tomorrow."
But the only thing Hermione saw the next morning was Harry screaming, falling to the floor
and his scar bleeding halfway through the History of Magic exam.
She shot to her feet, her heart hammering in her chest. Harry was pale and he looked terrified.
Whatever he had seen, had been awful.
“Sit back down,” one of the examiners told her briskly. Hermione had to watch her brother
leave the Great Hall on trembling legs while stuck, unable to help him.
What if someone else had been attacked? What if it was her father? What—Her bracelet
burned and she looked at it. You will be with him soon. She nodded and with only half a
mind, she tried to finish her exam.
The moment the last sand fell on the hourglass, she was out of the Great Hall. She could hear
Ron coming after her.
They found him when they were at the top of the marble staircase. “Harry!” said Hermione at
once, and he grabbed her, matching her frightened expression “What happened? What did
you see?”
“Where have you been?” demanded Ron.
“Come with me,” Harry said quickly. “Come on, I’ve got to tell you something.”
He pulled them along the first-floor corridor and at the first empty classroom he found, he
urged them inside, closing the door behind them.
“Voldemort’s got Sirius.”
“What?” Hermione asked. Her eyes watering, please don’t
“How d’you — ?” Ron began.
“Saw it. Just now. When I fell asleep in the exam.”
“But — but where? How?” Hermione asked whose face was white.
“I dunno how,” Harry replied agitated. “But I know exactly where. There’s a room in the
Department of Mysteries full of shelves covered in these little glass balls, and they’re at the
end of row ninety-seven… He’s trying to use Sirius to get whatever it is he wants from in
there… It’s the room I keep seeing. He’s torturing him, Hermione.” Harry’s voice cracked
then, “Says he’ll end by killing him.”
Hermione shook her head. “No.” She said, grabbing Harry’s hand. “Sirius' not dying.”
“How’re we going to get there?” he asked them. There was a moment’s silence.
Then Ron said, “G-get there?”
“The Department of Mysteries.” Harry replied, “To rescue him.”
Ron blinked.
Hermione had to think. Her entire body was shaking with the news, fear had locked her limbs
at the idea of Sirius dying, but still… “Harry.” She called, “What if it’s not real?” She asked
him, “What if this is on purpose?”
“Hermione, I saw him on the floor—”
“I know you did. But Voldemort knows, doesn’t he? That you have this connection. What if
this time is—”
“I can’t risk it.” He replied, “I won’t. Not with Sirius’ life.”

Hermione knew that. And Voldemort probably knew it too. She needed— “Reach him.” She
said, “Through the bond. Call him. Tell him to pull twice if he’s safe, once if not.”
He nodded and with a squeeze of her hand, closed his eyes. At the same time, she tried
Remus. Please, Remus. Is Sirius with you?
Remus, Hermione tried again, pulling hard, desperately.
Nothing.
She opened her eyes and found Harry’s green eyes wide staring back at her. He had the same
answer.
Nothing.
“Hermione, we've got to go.” He said, “I can’t lose him.”
Ron looked between them, “Are you being for real? Do you want to go to the Ministry of
Magic? Now? How?”
“I don’t know! But I can’t contact him. Hermione can’t contact Remus and I WON’T LET
HIM DIE!”
“I know, mate. I was—“
At that moment, Ginny and Luna opened the door, looking curious. “Hi,” Ginny uncertainly.
“We recognised Harry’s voice, what are you yelling about?”
“Never you mind,” Harry snapped roughly. Ginny raised her eyebrows.
“There’s no need to take that tone with me,” she said coolly.
“I was only wondering whether I could help.”
“Well, you can’t,” said Harry shortly.
“No,” Hermione said, “Actually, she can.” Harry and Ron looked at her. The girls waited.
“Listen,” she said urgently, “Harry, we need to establish whether Sirius really is not at
Grimmauld or at Remus’—”
“They are not answering! And I saw—”
“I KNOW!” She yelled, raising her voice at him. “But something—Dad’s gone. What if they
are in the middle of something—”
“Sirius is in the middle of torture right NOW.”
“A last check. One before we barge into London. Because I’m coming with you. If we can’t
find him. We will go.”
“Hermione, we don’t have time.”

“Harry if we are wrong we are going into a trap.” She snapped. “This is what you and Dad
have been working against. This, right here.” She told him. “One more check.”
“How?” Harry demanded. “How’re we going to check?”
“We’ll have to use Umbridge’s Floo and see if we can contact him,” Hermione said, knowing
full well they were going to do something terribly reckless. “We’ll draw Umbridge away
again, but we’ll need lookouts, and that’s where we can use Ginny and Luna.”
Hermione doubted Ginny could follow everything that was happening, but she jumped on it
immediately. Honestly, sodding Gryffindors. “Yeah, we’ll do it,”
“Okay, if you can think of a way of doing this quickly, I’m with you, otherwise I’m going to
the Department of Mysteries right now—”
“The Department of Mysteries?” Luna asked, looking mildly surprised. “But how are you
going to get there?”
Harry ignored her.
“Right,” Hermione said and cracked her knuckles. “Your question Luna, you are going to
need to find an answer for that one. One of us has to go and find Umbridge and —” She sent
Draco a message through her bracelet, asking if he knew where Umbridge was, “—and send
her off in the wrong direction, keep her away from her office. Tell her that Peeves is up to
something awful as usual.”
“I’ll do it,” Ron said at once. “I’ll tell her Peeves is smashing up the Transfiguration
department or something, it’s miles away from her office. Come to think of it, I could
probably persuade Peeves to do it if I met him on the way.”
She nodded. There was no time for objecting to the method. “Now, we need to keep students
away from her office while we force entry, we don’t need the Inquisitional Squad tipping us
off.”
“Your boyfriend and Pansy are members of that.” Harry reminded her.
“I know. I will get them to send the others away.”
“Luna and I can stand at either end of the corridor,” Ginny offered promptly, “and warn
people not to go down there because someone’s let off a load of Garroting Gas.” Hermione
was impressed by the speed the girl came up with the lie and Ginny, catching her expression
added, “That’s what Fred and George were planning to do before they left.”
“Okay,” said Hermione, “well then, Harry, you and I will be under the Invisibility Cloak, and
we’ll sneak into the office and try to find Sirius—”
“He’s not there, Hermione!”
She ignored him. “I will keep watch, you won’t be in there alone.” He nodded and Hermione
continued, “Even if we do all of that, I don’t think we’re going to be able to bank on more
than five minutes, you go and get the Invisibility Cloak and we’ll meet you at the end of
Umbridge’s corridor, okay? I will find my friends.”
Harry didn’t bother with an answer just flung himself out of the room and soon everyone
followed.
Running through the castle was a very good way to be caught, but Hermione couldn’t help
the desperate need to be quick. A part of her wasn’t certain that Harry wouldn’t go without
her.
“Theo! Blaise!” She shouted, finding them on the floor below.
“What happened?” Blaise asked.
“How's he?” Theo asked.
“We think Voldemort got Sirius. That’s what he saw.” She replied and matching expressions
of panic appeared on their faces. “We can’t reach either Remus or Sirius. I still haven’t found
Dad and—”
“Harry wants to go,” Theo concluded. Hermione nodded.
“I made him agree to check through the Floo before going.”
“Where?”
“Department of Mysteries.” Hermione replied, “The place he’s been seeing all this time.
Where Arthur was attacked.”
“What do you need?” Blaise asked.
“Draco and Pansy.” She replied. “We are using Umbridge’s Floo to see if Sirius is at Remus'
or his house. We need them to keep the rest of the Inquisitorial Squad away.”
“We know where they are,” Blaise replied and together they rushed towards the others. Just
then, Draco’s reply burned and she saw that Umbridge was indeed in her office.
They didn’t have time to explain, but thankfully the three of them looked desperate enough
that Pansy and Draco just followed.
“You brought him?” Ron asked once they met at the end of Umbridge’s corridor.
Hermione ignored that, “Go. Head her off.” She told him and he nodded, “Take Pansy with
you, she will make Umbridge more willing to believe.”
“Believe what?” Pansy asked just as Ron groaned.
“Whatever Ron comes up with,” Harry added and grabbed Pansy by the wrist, pulling her
towards Ron’s direction. “Show time, Parkinson.”
The pair went and Hermione turned to the rest. “Harry and I will be under the cloak. Ginny
and Luna are going to keep the other students away from this corridor. You can help.”
“We will cover the other end,” Theo replied and Hermione nodded. Together, they all split up
and Harry and Hermione disappeared under the cloak.
Soon, they heard the sound of their friends warning people off and as the crowd thinned and
disappeared around them, they moved.
Harry inserted the blade of Sirius’s knife in the crack between the door and the wall. The lock
clicked open, and they entered the office. “I thought she might have added extra security after
the second niffler,” Harry murmured as they pulled off the Cloak. Hermione hurried over to
the window and stood out of sight, peering down into the grounds with her wand out. Harry
dashed over to the fireplace, seized the pot of Floo powder, and threw a pinch into the grate,
causing emerald flames to burst into life there. She watched him kneel down quickly, thrust
his head into the dancing fire, and cry, “Remus Lupin’s place!”
Her heart hammered inside her chest. While keeping guard, she tried calling for Remus again.
Once more, she was met with silence. With each passing second that she didn’t get a reply
and Harry’s calls remained unanswered, the feeling of something being terribly wrong settled
in her bones.
Harry had just called for Grimmauld Place when her bracelet burned. She’s coming. The next
second, the door burst open and Umbridge was there. Draco entered behind her. Her eyes
flashed in rage as she went after Harry. Umbridge dragged him backwards out of the fire by
the hair and was now bending his neck back as far as it would go as though she was going to
slit his throat.
“You think,” she whispered, bending Harry’s neck back even farther, so that he was looking
up at the ceiling above him, “that after two nifflers I was going to let one more foul,
scavenging little creature enter my office without my knowledge? I had Stealth Sensoring
Spells placed all around my doorway after the last one got in, you foolish boy. Take his
wand,” she barked at Draco and her boyfriend moved to take Harry’s wand from his pocket.
“Hers too.”
Draco came up to her. “Struggle,” He mouthed and she complied. He grabbed her and pulled
her back to his chest, “She knew at once,” he whispered in her ear, making a show of holding
her against him. “Theo and Blaise managed to flee.”
“I want to know why you are in my office,” Umbridge said, shaking the fist that clutched his
hair so that he staggered.
“I was trying to get my Firebolt!” Harry croaked.
“Liar.” She shook his head again. “Your Firebolt is under strict guard in the dungeons, as you
very well know, Potter. You had your head in my fire. With whom have you been
communicating?”
“No one—” Harry replied but the words stopped when Umbridge pulled his hair again.
Hermione winced.
“Liar!” Umbridge shouted. She threw him from her, and he slammed into the desk. There was
a commotion outside and several large Slytherins entered, each gripping Ron, Ginny, Luna,
and - what the hell - Neville. All four of them had been gagged.
“Got ’em all,” Warrington said, he had Ron and shoved him roughly forward into the room.
“That one,” he poked a thick finger at Neville, who was being held by Greg, “tried to stop me
taking her,” Warrington pointed at Ginny, who was trying to kick Milli's shins, “so we
brought him along too.”
“Good, good,” Umbridge said, watching Ginny’s struggles with a sick smile. “Well, it looks
as though Hogwarts will shortly be a Weasley-free zone, doesn’t it?” Vince, who had Luna in
his arms and was holding her a bit too forcefully in Hermione’s opinion, laughed. “So,
Potter,” she said. “You stationed lookouts around my office and you sent this buffoon,” she
nodded at Ron, “to tell me the poltergeist was wreaking havoc in the Transfiguration
department when I knew perfectly well that he was busy smearing ink on the eyepieces of all
the school telescopes, Mr. Filch having just informed me so.”
“Pansy twisted the story to her side, obviously,” Draco whispered again. “Offered to go after
Severus.” Hermione gasped, and a small part of her heart loosened, “He's coming.”
Umbridge was still talking. “Clearly, it was very important for you to talk to somebody. Was
it Albus Dumbledore? Or the half-breed, Hagrid? I doubt it was Minerva McGonagall, I hear
she is still too ill to talk to anyone.”
“It’s none of your business whom I talk to,” Harry snarled. Umbridge’s slack face seemed to
tighten.
“Very well,” she said in her most dangerous and falsely sweet voice. “Very well, Mr Potter, I
offered you the chance to tell me freely. You refused. I have no alternative but to force you.
Soon, I will have my answer.”
They waited in silence. Ron was bleeding, Ginny was still struggling, Neville was looking a
bit too purple and Luna was astonishingly looking okay with it all.
Hermione heard footsteps in the corridor outside and Occluded so the absolute relief of
seeing her father wasn’t shown. Pansy opened the door, holding it open for Snape. “You
wanted to see me, Headmistress?” he asked, looking around at all the pairs of struggling
students with an expression of complete indifference. She envied him.
“Ah, Professor Snape,” said Umbridge, smiling widely and standing up again. “Yes, I would
like another bottle of Veritaserum, as quick as you can, please.”
“You took my last bottle to interrogate Potter,” he replied, observing her coolly. “Surely you
did not use it all? I told you that three drops would be sufficient.” The disdain in his tone was
so carefully hidden that Hermione doubted anyone but she could hear it. Certainly not
Umbridge.
The woman flushed. “You can make some more, can’t you?” she asked, her voice becoming
more sweetly girlish as it always did when she was furious.
“Certainly,” Severus replied, his lip curling. “It takes a full moon cycle to mature, so I should
have it ready for you in around a month.”
Hermione held her snort with great difficulty.
“A month?” Umbridge squawked, swelling toadishly. “A month? But I need it this evening,
Snape! I have just found Potter using my fire to communicate with a person or persons
unknown!”
“Really?” He asked, showing his first, faint sign of interest as he looked around at Harry.
“Well, it doesn’t surprise me. Potter has never shown much inclination to follow school
rules.” His cold, dark eyes were boring into Harry’s, who met his gaze unflinchingly, she
knew he was trying to read her brother’s mind to find out what the hell they had been doing.
“I wish to interrogate him!” Umbridge shouted angrily, and Severus looked away from Harry
back into her furiously quivering face. “I wish you to provide me with a potion that will force
him to tell me the truth!”
“I have already told you,” her dad replied smoothly, “that I have no further stocks of
Veritaserum. Unless you wish to poison Potter — and I assure you I would have the greatest
sympathy with you if you did — I cannot help you. The only trouble is that most venoms act
too fast to give the victim much time for truth-telling.”
“You are on probation!” shrieked Professor Umbridge, and her dad looked back at her, his
eyebrows slightly raised. Hermione would love to not be expelled just to see that. “You are
being deliberately unhelpful! I expected better, Lucius Malfoy always speaks most highly of
you! Now get out of my office!”
He gave her an ironic bow and turned to leave. Since he didn’t spare her a single glance, she
knew Harry had shared what was going on.
On his way out, he barked at Vince, “Crabbe, loosen your hold a little, if Longbottom
suffocates it will mean a lot of tedious paperwork, and I am afraid I shall have to mention it
on your reference if ever you apply for a job.”
“Very well,” she said once Severus was gone and she pulled out her wand. “Very well. I am
left with no alternative. This is more than a matter of school discipline. This is an issue of
Ministry security. Yes.” She seemed to be talking herself into something. Hermione had a
sinking feeling regarding what. “You are forcing me, Potter. I do not want to,” Umbridge
said, still moving restlessly on the spot, “but sometimes circumstances justify the use. I am
sure the Minister will understand that I had no choice. The Cruciatus Curse ought to loosen
your tongue,” Umbridge announced quietly.
“No!” Hermione shrieked. Umbridge turned to her. “Touch him,” Hermione said. “Touch him
and you will see.”
Umbridge laughed, “See what silly girl? You are bound and wandless. Your own father left
you to me.” Umbridge raised her wand and pointed at Harry.
Something in Hermione broke loose. “I will tell you!” Hermione said, faking desperation and
another trash against Draco. He had slipped her wand back inside Hermione’s pocket while
Umbridge had been shrieking at Severus.
“Well, well, well!” said Umbridge, looking triumphant. “Little Miss Question-All is going to
give us some answers! Come on then, girl, come on!”
Pansy, quick and quite the actress, whispered in Neville’s ear.
“Hermione, don’t!” The boy shouted.
“I’m— I’m sorry everyone,” Hermione cried. Blaise had taught them after all, “But — I can’t
stand it—He’s my brother.”
“That’s right, that’s right, girl!” Umbridge said and let go of Harry to seize her instead,
thrusting her into the abandoned Chintz chair and leaning over her. Umbridge was so busy
looking at Hermione expectantly that she missed Draco towering behind Hermione. “Now
then, with whom was Potter communicating just now?”
“Well, he was trying to speak to Professor Dumbledore.”
From there on it was easy. She crafted the story as she went, making up a weapon,
convincing Umbridge that no one else could see it, that it was too dangerous. Umbridge was
eager and desperate, because she quickly agreed to go, leaving the others behind with the
Inquisitorial Squad which had two members not too keen on being inquisitorial.
Running into the centaurs had been more than she expected, Hermione had merely hoped
Grawp would scare Umbridge enough that she and Harry would be able to run away. But
seeing Umbridge trampled had brought her a sick satisfaction that half scared her. In the end,
Grawp did appear and helped them escape the centaurs.
“We need to go, now,” Harry said, his chest heaving from running.
“What did Dad say? Did you get anything?”
“He doesn’t know. He was with the Death Eaters.” He replied and his irises were blown, “He
knows some of them have been sent on a mission in the Department of Mysteries.”
Hermione shuddered. What if Remus had gone as well? Sirius had been in danger. Maybe
they had gotten Remus too? “We need to go.”
“But how?”
“That’s the question, isn’t it?” A voice said behind them and Harry and Hermione turned.
Ron came into sight, with Ginny, Neville, and Luna hurrying along behind him. Theo, Blaise,
Pansy and Draco brought up the rear. All of them looked a little worse for wear — there were
several long scratches running the length of Ginny’s cheek, a large purple lump was swelling
above Neville’s right eye, and Ron’s lip was bleeding worse than ever. The Slytherins on the
other hand, didn’t have a single hair out of place.
“How did you get away?” Harry asked.
“Hermione's boyfriend is quite the duelist,” Neville replied and Hermione grinned, she could
see his head getting bigger. Draco came up to her in quick steps.
“Are you all right? Hurt?”
“I'm fine.” She replied and he kissed her temple.
“But Ginny was the best.” Pansy said, “Never seen a Bat-Bogey-Hex like that. Crazy.”
“Thanks!” Ginny grinned.
“Okay.” Harry said, “Good to hear you are all making friends, but we need to go. Now.”
Hermione nodded.
“Well, we’ll have to fly, won’t we?” Luna asked and for the first time, Hermione believed the
girl was really there with them.
“Okay,” Harry shook his head irritably, “first of all, ‘we’ aren’t doing anything if you’re
including yourself in that, and second of all, Ron’s the only one with a broomstick that isn’t
being guarded by a security troll, so —”
“I’ve got a broom!” Ginny exclaimed.
“Yeah, but you’re not coming,” said Ron angrily.
“Excuse me, but I care what happens to Sirius as much as you do!” Ginny replied, her jaw
set.
“You’re too—” Harry began.
But she didn’t let him finish. “I’m three years older than you were when you fought You-
Know-Who over the Sorcerer’s Stone,” she said fiercely, “and it’s because of me half of those
morons are stuck back in Umbridge’s office with giant flying bogeys attacking them.”
“Yeah, but —”
“We were all in the D.A. together,” Neville said quietly. “It was all supposed to be about
fighting You-Know-Who, wasn’t it? And this is the first chance we’ve had to do something
real, or was that all just a game or something?”
“No, of course, it wasn’t—” Harry replied impatiently.
Hermione could see where this was going. She turned to look at her friends. They were quiet,
the only one with a determined expression on his face was Theo. He would want to come too.
Draco, next to her, wouldn’t want her to go.
“Then we should come too,” Neville said simply. Theo nodded from where he stood. “We
want to help.”
Harry looked at Ron and then at her. The Slytherins apart, Ginny was the best among the
others. But the others were not going. Hermione wouldn’t put a single one of her friends in
danger.
While Ron and Luna argued about means of flying. Hermione exchanged a glance with
Blaise, who was watching her carefully.
“—but they can!” Luna said and everyone turned to see what she was pointing at. Thestrals.
“And Hagrid says they’re very good at finding places their riders are looking for.”
Draco had turned too and she grabbed her wand, “I'm sorry.” She said a split second before
she cast, “Petrificus Totalus!”
“Hermione what the hell!” Harry exclaimed.
Draco’s paralysed body fell to the ground and for a moment everyone just stared at her. “He
wouldn’t let me go.” She said.
“And you thought PARALYSING YOUR BOYFRIEND WAS THE WAY TO GO?” Ron
shouted, “Are you MENTAL?”
She ignored him and turned to Theo.
“Don't you dare, Hermione.” He told her.
“Please Theo,” Hermione begged. “You can’t go.”
“Hermione, this is what we have been working on. That’s why I—”
“I know, Theo. I know.” She cried and grabbed him. “I can’t be worried about you. I won’t.”
Hermione told him. “I can’t force him to stay, I can’t go and risk losing both of you. Please.”
She held onto his shirt, trying to convince him. “I can’t protect him if I’m worried about
you.”
“And who’s going to protect you, Granger?” He asked her.
She offered him a small smile and saw that Blaise had his wand ready behind Theo, he was
also crying. “I'm sorry Theo.”
“Petrificus Totalus!” Blaise cast and it hit Theo’s back. There was only betrayal in Theo’s
frozen expression.
“I won’t lose you.” She told Theo’s frozen body.
Pansy was standing to the side. “Don't need to worry about me. I’m not going.”
“Thank you, Pansy.”
She shook her head. “Oh no, Hermione. I’m furious with you. Don’t be mistaken.”
The Gryffindors and the Ravenclaw were looking at them like they were all crazy.
“Let's go.” She told her brother, “We wasted enough time.”
“Ginny, you—“
“Hermione just gave me quite the idea Ronald,” Ginny replied. “Say one more thing and I
will do the same.”
Harry grabbed Hermione’s elbow, “You are mad.” He hissed at her.
“You just said the Death Eaters have a mission there. I’m not sending my friends.” She hissed
back.
“Do you think I want to send mine?”
She ignored him and went for a Thestral. He groaned. Ginny was quick to follow Hermione.
She helped the younger girl, who couldn’t see the creatures.
“You better come back Granger, or the two frozen blocks you are leaving behind are going to
kill us all,” Blaise called.
She was going to come back. She vowed. Even if it was only for Draco and Theo to kill her.
“This is insane,” Ron was muttering but followed Luna’s directions towards another Thestral.
Soon, they were all mounted and Hermione looked one last time at Blaise and Pansy before
taking flight.
Hermione had known it was a terrible idea. The worst idea Harry ever had. The utmost worst
idea she ever followed.
But the room they were in, was messing with her very soul. It was dimly lit and rectangular,
and the centre of it was sunken, forming a great stone pit some twenty feet below them. They
were standing on the topmost tier of what seemed to be stone benches running all around the
room and descending in steep steps like an amphitheatre. At the very centre of the lowered
floor was a raised stone dais, and upon this dais stood a stone archway. It was the archway
the thing currently unnerving her. Unsupported by any surrounding wall, the archway was
hung with a tattered black curtain or veil which, despite the complete stillness of the cold
surrounding air, was fluttering very slightly as though it had just been touched.
Harry took a step further and Hermione held him. “Who's there?” He asked, for he too
seemed to have the feeling someone had just been there.
He kept going and Hermione found herself standing right in front of it. It was… calling her.
Them. Hermione looked around, Ron was still back there with the others. Whatever this thing
was, they were the only ones feeling it. And Harry was worse than her. Hermione felt the
wrongness of it.
“Let’s go,” She said, voice sharp. She could swear she had just heard her name being
whispered on the other side, “This isn’t right, Harry, come on, let’s go.”
He took a step further and her grip on him tightened. “Okay,” he said but didn’t move away
from it. The gently rippling veil was calling him, she just knew it, because it was calling her
too. There were faint whispering, murmuring noises coming from the other side of the veil.
“What are you saying?” he asked loudly and his words echoed all around the surrounding
stone benches.
“Nobody’s talking, Harry!” Hermione snapped and with her entire body shaking, got in front
of him, her back to the veil. The voices got louder, almost in protest to her lies.
Luna was coming closer as well. Hermione hated that she was hearing something Luna was
hearing.
“There are people in there!” Luna said.
“Harry!” Hermione snapped, desperate. “We need to go. We need to find Sirius.”
He blinked. Hermione took the opportunity to push him back. Away from that thing.
When he finally moved, Hermione sighed in relief, but the hairs at the back of her neck
remained until they left the room because she knew, she just had her back to Death.
They tried another room and another, and then she knew they had found it, because even with
only the descriptions he gave her of his dreams, Hermione recognised the room. High as a
church and full of nothing but towering shelves covered in small, dusty, glass orbs. The room
was very cold. Hermione hated it immediately. It reminded her of the lake.
Harry edged forward and peered down one of the shadowy aisles between two rows of
shelves. It was absolutely silent. “You said it was row ninety-seven,” she whispered.
“Keep your wands out,” Harry said softly. They crept forward, staring behind them as they
went on down the long alleys of shelves. Complete darkness was merely steps away from
them. Hermione was scared of stretching her arm seeing her arm swallowed by it.
“Ninety-seven!” She whispered again. Stopping, they stood grouped around the end of the
row, gazing down the alley beside it. There was nobody there.
And a part of her knew there wouldn’t be.
“He’s right down at the end,” Harry said, insisting, but his tone was different now. Again,
Hermione reached for Remus, Please, I think we are in trouble “You can’t see properly from
here, it’s too dark.” Harry continued, and he led them forward, between the towering rows of
glass balls, some of which glowed softly as they passed. Hermione followed with a rabbiting
heart, Tell Draco and Theo that I’m sorry, she continued, Tell Dad I love him, and I’m sorry I
didn’t get to do it “He should be near here,” Harry whispered. I should have done it,
Hermione sent through the bond. She followed her brother, but there were tears on her cheeks
now. “Somewhere about here,” he said. But there was nothing. They had reached the end of
the row. There was nobody there at all.
“Harry,” Hermione said, her voice choked up, “I don’t think Sirius is here.”
Come get us, Remus.
“Harry,” Ron called. “It’s — it’s got your name on,”
Ron was pointing at one of the small glass spheres that glowed with a dull inner light, though
it was very dusty and appeared not to have been touched for many years.
It was an ice bucket to the head.
Hermione was certain then, it was a trap and Voldemort had led Harry exactly to it.
He wanted something, they all knew.
He couldn’t get it himself, they knew that too.
“Harry, I don’t think you should touch it,” Hermione said sharply, as she watched him stretch
out his hand.
“Why not?” he asked. “It’s something to do with me, isn’t it?”
“Don’t, Harry,” Neville said suddenly.
“It’s got my name on,”
“Curious, isn’t it?” Hermione hissed, her fear giving space to anger. “That your dream sent
you exactly to an orb with your name?”
Almost as if in defiance, he reached for the orb.
Nothing whatsoever happened. The others moved in closer around him, gazing at the orb as
he brushed it free of the clogging dust.
And then, from right behind them, a drawling voice said, “Very good, Potter. Now turn
around, nice and slowly, and give that to me.”
Hermione knew that voice.
She had never done it before, never tried to find it, even when she had been the angriest, petty
enough to wish to yank just to cause pain on the other side. This time she reached for the
bond, Aunt Cissy, I forgive you too because Lucius was there with a group of Death Eaters.
Black shapes had emerged out of thin air all around them, blocking their way left and right;
eyes glinted through slits in hoods, a dozen lit wand-tips were pointing directly at their
hearts. Ginny gave a gasp of horror. “To me, Potter,” Lucius repeated, he held out his hand,
palm up.
The last time Hermione had seen Lucius palm up, he had come to save her from Macnair.
The last time Hermione had seen Lucius, he had kicked her out of the Manor.
Now, he had eleven Death Eaters around him. Hermione had five underage students.
“Where’s Sirius?” Harry asked. Several of the Death Eaters laughed.
A harsh female voice from the midst of the shadowy figures to Harry’s left said triumphantly,
“The Dark Lord always knows!”
At the front, Lucius reacted slightly, “Always,” he said softly. “Now, give me the prophecy,
Potter.”
“I want to know where Sirius is!”
“I want to know where Sirius is!” mimicked the woman to his left. It was Bellatrix, it could
only be. Only family could bring such contempt to one’s name.
“You’ve got him,” Harry insisted. “He’s here. I know he is.”
“The little baby woke up fwightened and fort what it dweamed was twoo,” said Bellatrix in a
horrible, mock-baby voice.
“Don’t do anything,” Ron muttered, “Not yet —”
Bellatrix let out a raucous scream of laughter. “You hear him? You hear him? Giving
instructions to the other children as though he thinks of fighting us!”
Aunt Cissy, I just met your sister, she sent, I don’t think I like her very much.
“Oh, you don’t know Potter as I do, Bellatrix,” Lucius replied softly. “He has a great
weakness for heroics; the Dark Lord understands this about him. Now give me the prophecy,
Potter.” A pause. “Or we start using wands.”
“Go on, then,” Harry retorted defiantly, raising his own wand to chest height. They all did,
but Hermione took a step further, placing herself right next to her brother, forcing Lucius to
see her. To look at her.
He held his hand up to the other Death Eaters. “Hand over the prophecy and no one need get
hurt,” he said.
A lot of things happened then. Spells fired. People shouted. Harry found the time to provoke
Bellatrix Lestrange. She fired and Lucius deflected it. Finally, their eyes caught.
Aunt Cissy, Uncle might not kill me after all
Harry was still talking, trying to distract the Death Eaters, Lucius - Hermione felt another tear
slip - was going along, provoking Harry and keeping the others at bay, too busy laughing at
Harry.
“Smash prophecies on three.” He whispered to her and she nodded, whispering the message
to the others.
It was chaos. Their spell hit the towering structure and it swayed as a hundred glass spheres
burst apart, pearly-white figures unfurling into the air and floating there, their voices echoing
amid the torrent of crashing glass and splintered wood now raining down upon the floor.
They ran.
Spells flew, more prophecies broke along the way, and there were screams of pain, hisses and
the odd laughter from Bellatrix. Somewhere in the mayhem, Hermione lost Harry. She turned
into a corner and saw that Ginny and Luna were right behind her. They all crouched behind a
large chest.
“Listen!” Hermione whispered. Footsteps and shouts echoed a little bit down from where
they hid.
“Leave Nott, leave him, I say, the Dark Lord will not care for Nott’s injuries as much as
losing that prophecy” Lucius was saying. Theo’s father was here. She was even gladder that
she had left Theo behind. Yes, leave Nott to die, Hermione couldn’t help but wish. "Jugson,
come back here, we need to organise! We’ll split into pairs and search and don’t forget, be
gentle with Potter until we’ve got the prophecy, you can kill the others if necessary, but not
the sister.” Well, thank you, Uncle, “Bellatrix, Rodolphus, you take the left, Crabbe,
Rabastan, go right. Jugson, Dolohov, the door straight ahead. Macnair and Avery, through
here. Rookwood, over there and Mulciber, come with me!”
“What do we do?” Ginny asked.
Hermione signalled to wait. She just needed to listen. She knew his steps. Had heard it echo
many times during her summer. The pit-pat of his cane.
There.
“He's coming to us.” She said, “Leave it to me.”
Hermione rounded the chest, still crouched, and waited. “They are coming here.” Ginny
hissed, her voice trembling a bit.
“I know,” Hermione replied.
Another step. One more and Lucius and Mulciber would turn on them.
Hermione would take a gamble with him.
She stepped forward.

“The Snape Brat!” Mulciber shouted and pointed his wand at her.
She had the Protego charm at the tip of her tongue, but Lucius had been faster. He sent
Mulciber careening through the shelves without a word. She didn’t know the spell he had
cast, but Mulciber didn’t get up.
Lucius took the remaining step and grabbed her by the shoulders, his hands hard but not
painful. “You need to leave right now.” He told her.
“Not without my brother,”
“Blasting hell Hermione, do you have any idea where you got yourself into?” He asked her.
“I do.” She replied. Behind her, she heard the other two girls getting up. Lucius looked at
them. And then back at Hermione.
“My girl,” he said, “Please.” He pulled something from his breast pocket. “It's a portkey, it
will take you to a safe house. Say her surname to activate it.” He looked up, at Luna. “I told
him I would.”
“Nice to meet you, Uncle,” Luna said. Lucius let out a slightly desperate chuckle.
“I'm not leaving without Harry,” Hermione repeated.
“We have been instructed not to kill your brother, he—”
“What do we have here?” They turned. Avery was at the end of the corridor. “Oh Lucius,
Macnair did say you had a soft spot for the girl.” Lucius put her behind him, and the man
laughed. Ginny and Luna had been smart enough to scoot back into hiding. “When you said
‘not the sister’ I knew it.”
“You should be looking for Potter and the prophecy.”
“So should you.”
“Just dealing with this first,” he replied.
“Yeah? From here it looks like you are shielding her from me.” Avery said and pointed his
wand, “Step aside. If you are too weak to do it, I’m not. The Dark Lord wants her gone. It
will be my pleasure.” Lucius didn’t move, “Ava—”
“STUPEFY!” She and Lucius echoed. Avery fell.
Lucius turned to her again, this time his voice was angrier. “You need to go now.” He told
her, “Find your brother and get the hell out of here, Hermione. Take your friends with you.”
Hermione extended her hand to Ginny and Luna, the girls scrambled to their feet, taking a
wide berth around Lucius, “Will you have my back?” She asked him.
“Of course.”
Hermione ran.
She only stopped when they reached Avery's unconscious body. “Obliviate!” She cast.
Lucius had saved her life, she could only return the favour.
They found their way back to the room with all the doors, where they found Harry and the
boys. Hermione crashed against her brother’s chest.
“Thank fuck you are all right.” He told her. Quickly they entered another room.
Ginny was also hugging Ron, “Lucius Malfoy saved us.” Ginny said.
“What?” Ron asked.
Harry looked at her in question, “I told you.” She replied. “It's complicated.”
Their peace was brief, a Death Eater had opened the right door. “WE’VE GOT THEM!” The
Death Eater yelled, “IN AN OFFICE OFF—”
“Silencio!” Hermione cast, cutting his voice before he completely gave them away.
“Petrificus Totalus!” Harry shouted as the second Death Eater raised his wand. His arms and
legs snapped together and he fell forward, facedown onto the rug at Harry’s feet.
But it had been enough, suddenly the place they were was filled with Death Eaters. They
fired and Hermione could feel exhaustion weighing in her bones. Duelling was draining, her
body ached with the spells she had been hit, and there was blood coming out of her from a
cut she didn’t remember getting.
“We need to go back to the circular room.” Hermione hissed.
Together, they managed to circle the room and make it back to the door, one after the other
they whirled through. Ginny was being dragged by Luna, Ron was laughing manically after a
spell had hit him. Neville was in the worst shape among all of them. He had a broken wand,
leg and hand. His face was completely swollen, and his words were almost unintelligible.
“We have to get out of here.” Luna said, “Hermione, the portkey.”
“What portkey?” Harry asked.
“Lucius gave it to me to escape.” She said and threw it towards Luna, who grabbed it.
Ron laughed, “I think someone hit Malfoy with something strong.”
“Everyone gather around Luna,” Hermione said, while she pulled Neville along. Harry saw
her struggling and came back to help her.
Ron had just gotten to Luna when a door burst open.
Hermione and Harry looked at one another and at Neville between them.
“LUNA GO NOW!” They shouted. “GO!”
“No—”
“GET OUT AND CALL FOR HELP,” Hermione yelled and turned to cast a shield between
them and the Death Eaters.
Luna’s voice shook when she activated it. Hermione didn’t see them leave, but she saw
Lucius Malfoy’s panicked expression at finding her left behind.
Aunt Cissy, Hermione sent, He truly, really tried.
Remus, she sent and it pulled at her heartstrings to do it so, I love you.
And then,
Hold on, I’m coming to get you.
“Remus,” she gasped and her vision blurred with tears.
Something happened and her shield doubled. The Death Eaters staggered at the light. It was
enough to drag Neville towards another door.
It was the goddamned Death room.
Harry and Hermione dragged Neville to the middle, not caring to be careful, he winced and
hissed, steep stone step after steep stone step. Harry held the prophecy up high above them.
The Death Eaters had stopped firing.
They were surrounded. Neville was on the floor between them, trying to get back on his feet.
Bellatrix laughed, the others followed her. The door opened again, more Death Eaters came
in. There were ten in total. Mulciber and Avery hadn’t gotten back up.
“Potter, your race is run,” Lucius drawled, but there was an edge to his voice. He pulled off
his mask. “Now hand me the prophecy like a good boy.”
“Let — let the others go, and I’ll give it to you!” Harry said desperately.
“I believe that broom has taken flight already.” He replied.
Seconds. If only they had gotten a few more seconds.
“You see, there are ten of us and only two of you.”
“Three!” Neville said, finding footing again.
“It’s Longbottom, isn’t it?” Lucius sneered. “Well, your grandmother is used to losing family
members to our cause. Your death will not come as a great shock.”
“Don't be vile.” Hermione snapped at him.
He turned glacial eyes at her. “I would be trying very, very hard to not be noticed right now.”
He told her, “Not antagonising.”
“Longbottom?” repeated Bellatrix, and a truly evil smile lit her gaunt face. “Why, I have had
the pleasure of meeting your parents, boy.”
“I KNOW YOU HAD!” Neville roared, and the strength of it made him stagger.
Bellatrix laughed and used a spell to pull him towards her. “No!” Hermione shouted.
But the woman looked transported, alive with excitement, "Let’s see how long Longbottom
lasts before he cracks like his parents. Or Potter can give us the prophecy.”
“DON’T GIVE IT TO THEM!”
Bellatrix raised her wand. “Crucio!”
And Neville screamed, his legs drawn up to his chest. Hermione’s heart broke at the sound of
his screams. Bellatrix pulled her wand back and Neville stopped, his body still twitched and
he sobbed brokenly. She turned to Harry, “The prophecy.”
Harry held it out.
Lucius took a step towards them.
Hermione got in front of Harry.
Lucius continued his descent, his eyes firing daggers at her.
“You foolish girl.” He told her when he stopped in front of her.
“I'm sorry.” She said, “Tell all of them that I’m sorry.”
But he wouldn’t need to. High above them, two more doors burst open and five more people
sprinted into the room: Remus, Sirius, Moody, Tonks, and Shacklebolt. Lucius turned and
raised his wand, but Tonks had already sent a Stunning Spell right at him. Hermione and
Harry didn’t wait and dived off out of the way. Their arrival had given them momentum. The
Death Eaters were completely distracted by the appearance of the members of the Order.
Spells flew all around them, and Hermione had to will her body to give her another round of
strength to fight.
She didn’t even know which Death Eater she was duelling, but she could see Remus trying to
make his way towards her as he fought his own Death Eater. She couldn’t see it, but she
knew Sirius was doing the same towards Harry.
“Don’t ever.” Remus began once he had gotten close enough. “Send me goodbyes again.”
Hermione had to dodge a spell in her direction before replying, “Then come faster.”
Remus didn’t reply, but his face hardened like stone. She didn’t have time for feelings now,
not when green jets were flying over and around her. Hermione saw Moody fall and then get
up again but this time without his eye.
Somewhere over her, Bellatrix was fighting her own niece while promising to send her
regards to Tonk’s mum.
The floor shook and she saw a crater opening right where Neville and Harry were trying to
get away.
“Go to them, get out of here,” Remus yelled at her.
“Easier said than done!” She yelled back.
“Rodolphus go fight someone of your size!” Remus yelled and the Death Eater, Rodolphus,
laughed.
“Oh Lupin, you know how much I like little girls.”
“IMPEDIMENTA!” Hermione yelled, blasting Rodolphus off his back, he knocked against
one of the steps hard.
“Well done, Hermione.” Remus grinned at her and with a quick and sharp movement of his
wrist sent the other Death Eater toppling over Rodolphus.
Someone was shouting and it took Hermione a while to recognise it as Dumbledore’s name.
Her ears were ringing. For a moment, everything seemed to stop.
A few Death Eaters scrambled, trying to run away, Hermione got distracted by the
commotion, so she only noticed when Lucius shouted her name.
“HERMIONE!” She turned, just in time to see Dolohov finish a slashing movement with his
wand and a purple flame coming straight at her.
“Oh,” she gasped as the spell hit her chest at the same time Lucius’ Protego did. Remus was
there and she knocked against his chest.
Against Remus’ chest, her eyes locked on Sirius, more specifically on the jet of red light that
had hit him squarely on his chest. Time seemed suspended and Hermione saw the trajectory
of Sirius’ body before it happened. Panic shot through her and every atom of her body
screamed as she did, “NO!”
Hermione didn’t raise her wand, but she felt the magic leaving her body all the same. Sirius
was halfway through the arc when she felt it. Death.
With everything she had, she pulled, yanked as if Sirius was the other end of a tug of war.
The last thing she saw was his body on the stone floor where the arc had been.
The veil had finally grown quiet and the world dark.
Chapter End Notes
I hate cliffhangers and I'm sorry for this one. It's six in the morning and I haven't slept I
just finished this and I'm going back to write the next one because for some reason I was
hit with inspiration.
Please let me know in the chapters what you think, even if it's to shout at me.
The title and quote belong to Through me (The Flood) by Hozier.
Excerpts have been taken from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. they do not
belong to me.
where one stands by and tries make sense of it
Chapter Notes
Hello!! thank you so so much for all the comments last week! I loved seeing your
reaction to the events, I don't think a chapter has ever gotten so many comments.
This one is also quite big so apologies in advance!!
The title and the quote at the beginning are also from Through me (The Flood) by
Hozier.
Excerpts have been taken from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. They do not
belong to me.
try measure loss

measure the silence of a house
the unheard footsteps at the doorway
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Severus had no idea what had happened.
He had been called away the night before, to hear the details of the very mission Harry had
seen in his dream. Everyone had been there. Voldemort had put Lucius in charge and given
his Death Eaters explicit orders to bring back the Prophecy. They were to kill anyone who
tried to stop them. And because Voldemort ruled under terror and torture, he had made all of
them remain seated at the table the entire night. Severus was only allowed to leave when
Lucius and the others left for the Ministry.
He had seen Harry’s memories, his vision and the siblings’ attempt to reach either Remus or
Sirius. The only reality where those two would ignore the sheer desperation coming out of
Harry in waves was one where both men were dead.
Unless their attempt at destroying the Horcrux had gone terribly wrong, Severus was pretty
sure they were not.
He stepped out of the Floo into Remus’ living room to immediately hear an angered scream
outside the house. Severus rushed in the direction of it.
“Now Sirius! Stab it!” Remus shouted.

Severus staggered, unable to believe his own eyes. The pond in front of them had changed, at
the margins, the broken body of James Potter lay on the grass. Sirius was shaking, sobbing
and desperately trying to jump into the water, where Regulus was currently being dragged
under by Inferi. Remus was trying to hold Sirius back and Severus noted he was beginning to
sport a black eye.
The vision of Regulus snarled, “He's going to leave you again. He will go back to him and
leave you alone. As you deserve.”
Sirius wrenched himself away from Remus, throwing him to the floor. How, Sirius Black had
managed to overthrow Remus, a grown werewolf, was beyond Severus’ comprehension. For
a moment Severus was certain Sirius would sink the dagger into Remus’ chest. Severus got
his wand out, ready to fire, but then Sirius screamed again and stabbed the open locket by
Remus’ head.
A piercing scream came out of the locket and Severus felt it on his left arm.
Sirius fell on the grass above Remus, his head on the man’s chest. They were both shaking.
“What the hell was that?” Severus asked, finally breaking out from his stupor and reaching
the men on the grass.
Sirius turned to the side, his face was as gaunt as that night in the Shrieking Shack.
Remus wasn’t much different, he looked haunted. “Regulus forgot to tell us that it would
fight back.” He said.
“It's not just a piece of a soul. It’s fucking Voldemort’s wretched piece of soul.” Sirius added
and got to his feet, his knees almost gave out and he held onto Remus as both of them go to
their feet. “All these years… it listened to Kreacher’s mumblings and cursing. These past few
days… it learned our deepest fears.”
Severus looked at the mangled piece on the grass. The wrongness of it was gone. It was just
an empty locket.
They would have to talk about it, they had a whole lot more Horcruxes to deal with, but
Severus had more pressing things at the moment. “Harry believes Voldemort has you,” He
told them. “Voldemort placed a fake vision on his head. He and Hermione were trying to
reach both of you through the bond but neither of you answered, Umbridge got them trying to
contact you through her Floo.”
“What?” Remus asked confused, “I didn’t get anything.” Sirius nodded. “We've just—” He
stopped and looked around, “What time is it?”
“Past five.”
Sirius whirled. “It can’t be.”
“I own a watch.” Severus retorted.

“We lost hours.” Remus said, “We—it was morning when we came outside. We got stuck
inside the Horcrux’s illusion for hours.”
“Don’t contact Narcissa. Lucius is leading a mission, I’m certain Voldemort is keeping her
close to him. I will get back to the castle, I need to tell them you are not, in fact, being
tortured by Voldemort.” He told the pair. “Contact the Order and Dumbledore, tell them
Voldemort’s deadliest Death Eaters are at the Ministry.”
They all rushed inside and took the Floo to their respective destinations. The vision had been
carefully orchestrated. Harry needed to know his godfather was safe before he fell right into
the trap. For the first time, Severus was glad Umbridge had gotten them.
His relief was short-lived.
Umbridge was not in her office. Neither were the recently captive students. Instead, a few of
his students were unconscious on the floor. Goyle, Bulstrode, Crabbe and Warrington. He
swore.
Severus called Pomfrey to check on the students and cast half a dozen of locator spells to find
the missing ones. He only got a signal for four of them. Severus followed it in hurried steps
to the Forbidden Forest. He had barely reached the grounds when he saw Zabini and
Parkinson dragging Theodore and Draco from the Forbidden Forest.
His heart plummeted. He ran to them. “Where is she?” He barked at them, “Where did she
go?”
Parkinson’s green eyes shone. “She's gone. They are gone.” She told him. “They went after
Sirius.”
Severus cursed. Theodore and Draco were still frozen in a full-body bind curse on the
ground. “What happened?”
The pair gave him the resumed version of the events. If Severus could be thinking properly,
he would have spared an extra thought to Hermione’s growing affinity to violence. “Take
them to Madam Pomfrey. Tell her not to break the spell on them.”
His godson pulled on the bond in affront so damn hard that Severus had half the mind to hex
him himself.
“Sir?” Zabini asked.
“Lucius and Nott Senior are at the Ministry of Magic. Those two,” he pointed at the boys on
the ground, he knew they could hear him. “Would go after her if given the chance. This will
be difficult enough without them trying to make things worse.”
Draco was begging and Severus had to look away.
They nodded. “And Sirius?” Zabini asked.
“He's fine. They are going into a trap.”

“Get them back, Sir,” Parkinson begged him, “Please bring them back.”
He looked at her. So it had been her in Harry’s memories after all. Merlin, what was it with
Potter men and a Snape’s best friends?
Without stalling any longer - he would not spare a single thought about Umbridge with the
Centaurs - he went to Headquarters.
Severus could understand his daughter’s thinking because he too considered body-binding
Remus and Sirius after he had to give the news that they, alongside two Weasleys and the
Lovegood girl, had gone into a trap with twelve Death Eaters.
“We have to go!” Sirius was saying, pacing around the kitchen.
Molly Weasley was crying silently, her two youngest kids were in danger. The twins and Bill
were next to her. Arthur was very quiet.
Remus had his back to all of them, his shoulders tense.
“Has someone informed Xeno?” Kingsley asked, “He's not an Order member officially,
but…”
“It will only worry him.” Moody retorted.
Molly scowled and sent a glare towards the Head Auror. “You have no idea. No idea what it’s
like.” She got to her feet, “I will inform him.”
Severus thought of the request Lovegood had made to Lucius and wondered if Lucius would
be able to do it. Merlin, Severus didn’t know if Lucius would be able to help Hermione.
“Why are we still here?” Sirius asked again, his voice getting louder.
“Dumbledore asked us to wait for him,” Moody replied.
“Fuck Dumbledore, honestly!” Sirius snapped, “He has done enough.” Which translated that
Dumbledore hadn’t done a thing. “Hermione is sixteen years old. Luna and Ginny are only
fourteen. Bellatrix is there. Neville Longbottom is there with them!”
“We are aware of the people present, Sirius,” Moody said. “We cannot barge inside the
Ministry. Our presence there will only escalate things. We need to get the kids out before—”
Someone wailed from the Floo in the living room, cutting Moody off. Severus knew it was
Lovegood.
Then, Remus curved in on himself. His hands balled into fists where they were resting
against the counter. He turned around and his face was ashen. Severus took a deep breath and
prepared himself because Remus's glance had been enough.
“They are there,” Remus announced. Sirius cursed. Molly ran back to the kitchen at the noise,
leaving Lovegood stuck in the Floo shouting for his daughter. “They have found the Death
Eaters.”
“What did she say?” Severus asked. Remus opened his mouth to reply, but a gasp came out
instead, almost like an invisible hand had just punched his stomach. Severus knew exactly
what hand. “Remus,” he hissed, walking over “What did she say?”
“She's saying goodbye,” Remus replied, his amber eyes blown out. Severus felt the floor
opening underneath him. “She's begging me to go get her.”
Severus staggered. He felt like vomiting. He couldn’t feel what Remus was feeling, but the
man in front of him was white as a sheet and Severus knew that whatever Hermione was
sending down the bond was making Remus ill. Which could only mean she was in grave
danger and most likely terrified.
Molly sobbed against her husband's chest. Tonks got to her feet and she wore a matching
expression to her cousin’s.
“That's enough,” Sirius said. “We are out of here, I don’t care about Dumbledore’s orders.
I’m—”
Kreacher appeared in the kitchen, “Mistress is demanding entrance.” He announced, “She

says she will burn the building down if she doesn’t get in.”
Everyone stopped to look at the creature.
“Mistress?” Moody asked confused.
Remus Lupin wasn’t the only one getting Hermione’s distress directly to his heart.
“She will probably do it too,” Dumbledore said and everyone turned to see the man standing
at the threshold.
“Who?” Molly asked.
“Should I let her in, Severus?” Dumbledore asked him. The old man had the audacity to look
angry at that. “You are the one who chose her as godmother, after all.”
“It's my house.” Sirius snapped, his dark eyes were burning. “Let my cousin in.”
Dumbledore turned and went to the door, there was a flurry of movement as the Aurors and
the Weasleys began speaking over one another.
“We do not have time.” Remus hissed, “I need to get them.”
“Your cousin?” Tonks asked, “What cousin?” Her tone was nervous.
“What are you good for?” They heard Narcissa’s unmistakable voice from the corridor. “Why
are you still here?"
“That one,” Sirius replied.
“Mrs Malfoy, welcome."

Narcissa came strolling in, not caring that she had forced entry to the Order of the Phoenix’s
headquarters at the same time her husband and eldest sister were terrorising teenagers in the
Ministry of Magic.
She only looked at Remus, “Get her out of there. Right now.”
Remus was a possessed man, he moved and Dumbledore did too. Blocking the passage.
Severus saw the restraint it took Remus to not curse Dumbledore right then and there.
“Get out of the way.” He snarled.
But Dumbledore was looking at Narcissa. “Mrs Malfoy—” Dumbledore called and the
woman whirled at him. She wasn’t in a listening mood.
“Mark my words, I will throw a banquet the day you die Albus Dumbledore,” she told him,
her voice carrying a promise. “If you don’t send every man you have to get my goddaughter
away from Bella’s wand I will make it today your last day.”
The Weasley twins whistled, Tonks - Narcissa’s niece - was shaking her head in disbelief.
Severus just wanted Hermione and Harry back.
“We don’t have time for this,” He said, his voice carrying the anxiety he felt. “They are in
danger. More and more at each second we waste here.” Severus turned to Narcissa then, still
in slight disbelief that she had come. “Cissy—” He said, “You shouldn’t be here. He will—”
“I will deal with that very soon.” She snapped and turned to the room at large, “Lucius has a
portkey that takes them to the Lovegood house.” Molly gasped at that, “From what
Hermione’s been sending, I think she has it already.”
“Why hadn’t she used it then?” Sirius asked.
“Because she won’t leave her brother behind,” Narcissa said. At the same time, “Harry.”
Remus said, “They are separated.”
Dumbledore was making quite the point to not look at Severus. Oh, Severus was going to
have the longest meeting of his life. There was no more hiding it now. Neither Remus nor
Sirius had been surprised to see Narcissa, who hadn’t bothered to play a part. Dumbledore
knew they were working together on something and Severus knew just by how Dumbledore
would slide his eyes between the four of them. Calculating. Dumbledore was wondering how
many more secrets they had, how much had they hidden from him.
Severus turned to Dumbledore, he didn’t care what sort of errands he got sent to because of
this, he didn’t care how deep he had to go. “Get them back.” He told Dumbledore. “Be done
with your games and your plans. There are children in danger and for what? A prophecy you
alone know it in its entirety.”
“Remus,” Dumbledore said instead. “Can you know exactly where she is?”
“I can apparate to her, yes,” Remus replied.

“And Sirius, can you apparate to Harry?” Sirius nodded. Dumbledore conjured a paper and
turned to Molly, handing it to her. “Tell Xenophilius that he might get visitors.” She nodded
and went back to the Floo. “Alastor, Kingsley, Tonks. Get ready to leave. You will need to
enter the building through the Atrium and make your way down to the Department of
Mysteries. Remus and Sirius will be able to—”
“They are here!” Molly screamed, “Xenophilius has them!” Sirius rushed out of the kitchen
and his sudden movement got the other Weasleys to move as well.
But Severus had stayed and was looking at Remus and Narcissa, both had just winced in
pain.
“No,” Severus said. A whisper of a word.
“She's not with them,” Remus confirmed the worst.
He saw it through Narcissa’s eyes, Aunt Cissy, he truly, really tried.
Sirius had returned. “WHERE ARE THEY?” He shouted, “What happened?”
But Narcissa wasn’t replying and by Remus’ expression, Severus was pretty sure Hermione
had said yet another goodbye.
“Hold on,” Remus said, “I'm coming to get you.”
Severus knew Hermione had gotten that message.
He wished he could do the same, that he could promise her to get her out of there, bring her
back to safety. Instead, he watched the Aurors move, the Weasleys take the Floo to
Xenophilius and Dumbledore disappear to heavens knew where.
Narcissa grabbed his arm. “I have to go back to the Manor. Let me know as soon as you have
her.”
He nodded and watched her disappear through the green flames. She had risked so much
coming. But Severus trusted Narcissa enough to believe she would be fine.
Astonishingly, Sirius Black was the one to turn to him before following the others. “I will get
them back.”
The only thing Severus could do was wait.
It was early morning when Dumbledore’s Patronus arrived. No one had returned to
Grimmauld Place. The two youngest Weasleys and Luna had been sent to Madam Pomfrey,
thankfully none of them sustained any serious injuries.
“Harry is with me in my office”

Severus cursed Dumbledore to hell and back for that.
That was it? He was with Harry? What about Hermione? What about the others? Where were
Sirius and Remus that they hadn’t returned to Grimmauld?
Fucking Dumbledore.
He took the Floo to his office and then took every shortcut and passage available to make the
trip from the dungeons to the Headmaster’s office quicker.
“THEN — I — DON’T — WANT — TO — BE — ALIVE!” Harry roared and Severus

stopped dead on his feet.
The door was in front of him, but his hand remained locked on his side. From the inside,
someone had just flung something across the room. This someone was most certainly Harry.
He heard it shatter into a hundred tiny pieces against the wall.
The portraits of former Headmasters let out yells of anger and fright.
“I DON’T CARE!” Harry yelled at them, something else was thrown around. “I’VE HAD
ENOUGH, I’VE SEEN ENOUGH, I WANT OUT, I WANT IT TO END, I DON’T CARE
ANYMORE —”
He either kicked or threw something big, by the sound of it, Severus guessed it had been a
table “You do care,” said Dumbledore calmly. Severus would be throwing things if
Dumbledore used that tone with him too. “You care so much you feel as though you will
bleed to death with the pain of it.”
“I — DON’T!” Harry screamed, and Severus felt the pain of it in his own throat.
“Oh yes, you do,” said Dumbledore, still more calmly. “You have lost your mother, your
father, and now both the closest thing to a parent you have ever known and your sister are—”
“SHUT UP!” Harry roared and Severus stumbled backwards. His back hit the wall behind
him. No. His hands trembled and he barely noticed his wand slipping from his fingers.
Merlin, please no. Anything. Anyone, but not her. “YOU DON’T KNOW HOW I FEEL!”
Harry roared. “YOU — STANDING THERE — YOU —”
The doorknob in front of Severus rattled. But the door would not open. Harry punched the
wood, “Let me out,” he said.
Severus’ entire body was shaking.
She couldn’t be. No. She wasn’t. He would know. Severus was certain that he would feel the
moment Hermione left this world. And she hadn’t.
“No,” said Dumbledore simply.
“Let me out,” Harry said again.
“No,” Dumbledore repeated.

“If you don’t — if you keep me in here — if you don’t let me —” the fight was gone from the
boy.
“By all means continue destroying my possessions,” said Dumbledore serenely. “I daresay I
have too many.”
“Let me out,” Harry said yet again, in a voice that was cold and almost as calm as
Dumbledore’s. It wasn’t a tone he had ever heard from the boy.
“Not until I have had my say,” said Dumbledore.
“Do you — do you think I want to — do you think I give a — I DON’T CARE WHAT
YOU’VE GOT TO SAY!” Harry roared. “I don’t want to hear anything you’ve got to say!”
“You will,” said Dumbledore sadly. “Because you are not nearly as angry with me as you
ought to be. If you are to attack me, as I know you are close to doing, I would like to have
thoroughly earned it.”
“What are you talking — ?”
“It is my fault what happened to them,” said Dumbledore clearly. And Severus cracked. “Or I
should say almost entirely my fault—” Severus didn’t bother to try the doorknob, he blasted
it instead, but still keeping the pieces contained so it wouldn’t hurt Harry in case the boy
hadn’t gotten too far from it. “Severus.”
Harry looked at him and Severus was certain the boy was about to break. Harry took a small,
uncertain step in his direction, hesitation flicked through his eyes and he looked terrified of
Severus’ reaction.
There was a hole so big inside Severus’ heart, a hole that began eroding the moment he
received Dumbledore’s Patronus and gained momentum, turned into an avalanche when
Harry roared that he didn’t want to be alive. He opened his arms and a desperate sob seemed
to hurl out of Harry, who took fumbling steps and crashed against his chest. He shook as he
cried. The only thing Harry said, over and over, were the words “I'm sorry,”
He looked up at the old man still sitting at his desk. “Hermione and Sirius are at St. Mungos
receiving treatment.”
Severus felt dizzy. Harry’s weight was the only thing holding him up. He’d be barren by the
time he saw his daughter again.
“Please sit down,” Dumbledore told them. It was not an order, it was a request. But usually,
those ended up being the same with him.
Harry had yet to let him go. Severus ignored Dumbledore and held the boy’s head, lifting his
face, “Show me.”
It was easy to find because the memory was a constant loop in the boy’s head. He had been
fighting next to Sirius, Dumbledore had arrived, and everyone got distracted, but not Sirius
and Bellatrix, who seemed to be having quite a personal fight. He saw the spell hit Sirius and
heard Hermione’s gut-wrenching scream. One moment, Sirius was falling through the veil,
the next, the veil had been blasted into pieces and Sirius was unconscious on the floor. When
Harry turned to see his sister, Hermione was unconscious against Remus’ chest.
He tried to see the memory again, but unless he removed it and put on a Pensive, he wouldn’t
be able to see everything that happened. Sirius hadn’t even begun to fall when Hermione
screamed, but he had been halfway through when she blasted the thing. And Severus knew it
had been her.
Harry hadn’t stayed to check, having decided to sprint after Bellatrix instead. He saw the
Cruciatus he cast, felt the boy’s rage, and heard Bellatrix’s taunts. She told him Sirius was
dead and there wasn’t a single bone in Harry’s body that had doubted her then. Harry had not
tried to defend himself from the Killing Curse. If Dumbledore hadn’t appeared the moment
he did, Harry would have been dead. And he had been fine with it because Sirius was dead in
his head.
Severus saw Voldemort possessing the boy, using Harry’s voice to get Dumbledore to kill
him, but most of all, he had seen Harry want it. It was his wish to be with Sirius again that
drove Voldemort away from him.
He had seen enough, he didn’t care about Fudge, he pulled away. Green eyes met his.
Severus held the boy’s cheeks and wiped the tears away. “Oh, Harry.” He whispered, “I've
got you, son.”
Harry hugged him again. “I didn’t know they were alive—” his voice cracked, “Hermione,
she—”
“They are alive, Harry,” Dumbledore said and Severus looked up, still keeping his arms
around the boy. He was so small. "I owe you an explanation, to both of you,” said
Dumbledore. “An explanation of an old man’s mistakes. For I see now that what I have done,
and not done, with regard to you, bears all the hallmarks of the failings of age. Youth cannot
know how age thinks and feels. But old men are guilty if they forget what it was to be young
and I seem to have forgotten lately”
“We want to see our family in this incarnation still Albus, I do not have the time nor the
patience for your poetry.”
“Very well then, sit Severus, Harry.”
They moved together, there was only a chair and he gave it to Harry, deciding to stand behind
the boy. He kept a hand on his shoulder.
“I guessed, fifteen years ago, when I saw the scar upon your forehead, what it might mean. I
guessed that it might be the sign of a connection forged between you and Voldemort.”
“You’ve told me this before, Professor,” Harry said bluntly. Almost as a result of Severus’
own rudeness, did not care about being rude as well.
“Yes, but you see — it is necessary to start with your scar. For shortly after you rejoined the
magical world, I saw that I was correct, that your scar was giving you warnings when
Voldemort was close to you, or else feeling powerful emotion. And this ability of yours — to
detect Voldemort’s presence has become more and more pronounced since Voldemort
returned to his own body and his full powers.” Harry did not bother to nod. He knew all of
this already. They both did. “More recently,” said Dumbledore, “I became concerned that
Voldemort might realise that this connection between you exists. And the night you witnessed
the attack on Mr Weasley, you entered so far into his mind and thoughts that he sensed your
presence.”
“Yeah, Snape told me,” Harry muttered.
“Professor Snape, Harry,” Dumbledore corrected, but then tilted his head to the side, “But
he’s not that anymore, is he?”
He knew what Dumbledore was implying, only a fool wouldn’t.
Remus had said the same. Minerva as well. Even he had slipped twice now.
Neither he nor Harry bothered with a reply and Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled. Moving on, he
asked, “But did you not wonder why it was not I who explained this to you? Why I did not
teach you Occlumency? Why I had not so much as looked at you for months?”
Harry looked up. “Yeah,” Harry mumbled. “Yeah, I wondered.”
“I believed that sooner than later, Voldemort would attempt to force his way into your mind,
to manipulate and misdirect your thoughts. I was sure that if he realised that our relationship
was — or had ever been — closer than that of headmaster and pupil, he would seize his
chance to use you as a means to spy on me. I feared the possibility that he might try and
possess you. Harry, I believe I was right to think that Voldemort would have made use of you
in such a way. On those rare occasions when we had close contact, I thought I saw a shadow
of him stir behind your eyes.” Severus’ grip on the boy’s shoulder tightened because he too
had seen red in Harry’s green. “I was trying, in distancing myself from you, to protect you.
An old man’s mistake.”
“Well, he’s done it now.”
“That’s why I arranged Occlumency lessons with Professor Snape.”
“Occlumency didn’t work with that. I already knew how to close my mind and hide things
away, but I couldn’t do anything about those visions.”
Albus looked up from Harry to look at him again, “Tell me, Severus, how long have you been
teaching him? Since the summer?”
Harry’s shoulder tensed under his fingers. Severus didn’t mind. “You know the answer,
Headmaster.” Because it was clear now, what Dumbledore had been doing earlier, with all
those glances between them. Severus would have felt Albus from a mile away, well aware of
the old man’s telltales, Remus’ lycanthropy made him immune to Legilimency, Narcissa
would have Dumbledore on the floor if he had tried on her. He had gotten his information
from Sirius. With his distress, Sirius lowered his shields and Dumbledore feasted.
“Narcissa was quite the surprise,” Dumbledore replied. “Not her involvement, because I
recognised her Occlumency in Hermione's formidable mind shield that day when Harry’s
name was pulled out of the Goblet of Fire.” Oh, what a day had that been. "And as I was
aware that Kreacher was serving someone other than Sirius and quickly guessed it must have
been her. One does not quite forgets her reaction to Hermione being petrified.” He said and
Severus silently agreed. “I knew Narcissa cared about Hermione, albeit not the entire
extension of it. Given my experience with the Malfoys, however, I worried she would try to
keep Hermione safe by putting Harry at risk.”
Harry snorted, “Narcissa's all right,” he said, “Heck, all of them are quick to switch for her.”
“It is impressive.” Dumbledore said, “The trail of loyalty Hermione leaves behind. But most
impressive still, is how loyal Hermione herself is. She, like no one else, can’t forgive me for
my mistakes towards you. I don’t need to read her mind to see how deep her contempt for me
runs.”
“It's almost as if she knows exactly how much you’ve been using me as a pawn all these
years.” Harry retorted, rounding on him. Severus squeezed Harry’s shoulder in warning.
“And now she’s paid the price.”
“Harry—”
“No, Headmaster.” Harry cut him off. “Year after year. You’ve put me through trial after trial.
And because of her loyalty, Hermione has followed me. She knew it was a trap, but she came
with me anyway. I almost got her ki—” his voice cracked, “I almost got my sister killed
because of you.”
Severus squeezed Harry’s shoulder again, this time in pride. Dumbledore closed his eyes and
buried his face in his long-fingered hands. They watched him, Severus doubted it was honest,
this uncharacteristic sign of exhaustion, or sadness. Not when Severus knew what
Dumbledore was hiding. The true extent of his deception.
Dumbledore lowered his hands and studied both of them. “It is time,” he said, “for me to tell
you what I should have told you five years ago, Harry. I ask for only a little patience. You
will have your chance to rage at me — to do whatever you like — when I have finished. I
will not stop you.”
Severus arched an eyebrow, he was giving the boy quite the opportunity there. Hermione
wouldn't have hesitated.
“Five years ago you arrived at Hogwarts, Harry, safe and whole, as I had planned and
intended. Well — not quite whole. You had suffered.”A long scoff from Harry. Dumbledore
carried on, ”I knew you would when I left you on your aunt and uncle’s doorstep. I knew I
was condemning you to ten dark and difficult years.” He paused. A conversation that now
seemed from years ago came to the forefront of his mind. It had been only last summer. Not
even a year ago Severus and Harry had sat down together for the first time and changed the
path ahead of them. Harry said nothing, but he leaned back against Severus. Maybe for
comfort, maybe in an ‘I'm thinking about it too’, he didn’t know. “You might ask why it had
to be so. My answer is that my priority was to keep you alive. You were in more danger than
perhaps anyone but myself realised. Voldemort had been vanquished hours before, and your
sister had disappeared, but his supporters were still at large, angry, desperate, and violent.
And I had to make my decision too with regard to the years ahead. Did I believe that
Voldemort was gone forever? No. I knew not whether it would be ten, twenty, or fifty years
before he returned, but I was sure he would and I was sure too, knowing him as I have done,
that he would not rest until he killed you. I knew that Voldemort’s knowledge of magic is
perhaps more extensive than any wizard alive. I knew that even my most complex and
powerful protective spells and charms were unlikely to be invincible if he ever returned to
full power. But I knew too where Voldemort was weak.”
“My mother’s sacrifice.” Harry said, once more cutting Dumbledore off, “I know the story.”
Dumbledore chuckled, “It seems you do. But Harry, what you must understand is I don’t
make you go back there every summer because I want to see you suffer, it’s because while
you can still call home the place where your mother’s blood dwells, there you cannot be
touched or harmed by Voldemort. He shed her blood, but it lives on in you and her sister. Her
blood became your refuge. You need to return there only once a year, but as long as you can
still call it home, there he cannot hurt you. Your aunt knows this. I explained what I had done
in the letter I left, with you, on her doorstep. She knows that allowing you houseroom may
well have kept you alive for the past fifteen years.”
She had offered him a cupboard under the stairs.
“But Headmaster,” Harry said lowly, struggling to keep his voice from getting too choked up.
“Privet Drive hasn’t been home for me since I stepped inside this castle for the first time.” He
told him, “In fact, Privet Drive has never been home. I—” Harry stopped and a tremor ran
through him, “I found home the day I met Hermione. Before I even knew she was my sister.”
“Harry…”
“If only you had asked, you would have known.” It wasn’t cutting, because Harry’s fight had
left him. It was merely resigned. He knew now why he had to suffer summer after summer
and most of all, he knew it had been for nothing.
“Forgive me, Harry. It seems your sister is right to resent me so much.” Dumbledore sighed,
“And that you will soon find I have yet more to ask your forgiveness.”
The sun had risen fully now and Severus was getting impatient. “Albus, get to it.” He told the
man, “You can find the time for penitence another day.”
“There was a time you would come for penitence as well, Severus,” Dumbledore replied.
“Don't begrudge others of the same things you did. Not when you lied and conspired behind
my back.”
Severus scowled. And Harry came to his defence, “How come are lies and conspiracy when
he does but an old man’s mistake when you do it?” Harry asked. Fiercely.
“Harry.”
“Oh, no Severus.” Dumbledore shook his head, “It warms me to see it. You care for one
another now.” He said, “Unfortunately, it means I will disappoint both of you with what I
have to confess. You are correct Harry. The prophecy you got trapped into retrieving last
night, I did know the contents of it. And I had them right here.”
Severus wanted to smash Dumbledore’s office himself. Dumbledore got to his feet and
walked past them to the black cabinet that stood beside Fawkes’s perch. He bent down and
retrieved the Pensieve. Dumbledore walked back to the desk, placed the basin upon it, and
raised his wand to his own temple.
The thoughts swirled and drifted inside the Pensieve for a moment. Then, Dumbledore raised
his wand and prodded the silvery substance with its tip. Trelawney rose out of it, draped in
shawls, her eyes magnified to enormous size behind her glasses, and she revolved slowly, her
feet in the basin.
“THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD APPROACHES. . . .
BORN TO THOSE WHO HAVE THRICE DEFIED HIM, BORN AS THE SEVENTH
MONTH DIES . . . AND THE DARK LORD WILL MARK HIM AS HIS EQUAL, BUT
HE WILL HAVE POWER THE DARK LORD KNOWS NOT . . . AND EITHER MUST
DIE AT THE HAND OF THE OTHER FOR NEITHER CAN LIVE WHILE THE OTHER
SURVIVES. . . . THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD
WILL BE BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES . . .”
Severus removed his hand from Harry’s shoulder, lest he squeezed it too hard. He placed his
hands on the chair instead. Gripping the upholstery tightly.
His mistake was tenfold then. He had been the one to curse Harry to his fate. It was his fault.
Had he not rushed to share what he heard…
“Why did he choose me?” Harry asked.
“He chose the boy he thought most likely to be a danger to him,” Dumbledore replied, “not
the pureblood but the half-blood, like himself. He saw himself in you before he had ever seen
you, and in marking you with that scar, he did not kill you, as he intended, but gave you
powers and a future, which have fitted you to escape him not once, but four times so far —
something that neither your parents, nor Neville’s parents, ever achieved.”
But not only that, it was proof, wasn’t it? Dumbledore knew about the Horcruxes. In marking
you with that scar, gave you powers and a future, which have fitted you to escape him.
Because that was it, wasn’t it? Voldemort couldn’t kill Harry without killing a part of himself.
And if what he had just seen from Remus and Sirius’ attempt was anything to go by,
Horcruxes weren’t very keen on being killed.
Dumbledore knew. Fifteen years listening to this prophecy, studying every line of it,
watching the boy grow, the series of impossible events he found himself in. Dumbledore
would have been looking for an answer, an explanation. And he had found it. The moment
Harry showed a connection to Voldemort’s mind.
Harry's first dream had been almost two summers ago. All this time, Dumbledore knew Harry
would have to die.
“Why did he do it, then?” Harry asked, his voice bringing Severus back to the moment. Still,
his body felt numb and cold. “Why did he try and kill me as a baby? He should have waited
to see whether Neville or I looked more dangerous when we were older and tried to kill
whomever it was then —”
“That might, indeed, have been the more practical course,” Dumbledore agreed, his eyes
glinting at Severus, “except that Voldemort’s information about the prophecy was incomplete.
The one stroke of good fortune was that the eavesdropper was detected only a short way into
the prophecy and thrown from the building.”
Severus waited and was glad then, that he had told Harry about his part all those months ago.
Because he built his relationship in spite of his mistake. They were where they were,
someone between a father and a son, because Harry knew and had forgiven him. Dumbledore
didn’t know Harry had this information.
“So he only heard . . . ?” Harry asked, surprising Severus.
“He heard only the first part, the part foretelling the birth of a boy in July to parents who had
thrice defied Voldemort. Consequently, he could not warn his master that to attack you would
be to risk transferring power to you — again marking you as his equal.”
“But I don’t have any—” Harry began in a strangled voice. “I haven’t any powers he hasn’t
got, I couldn’t fight the way he did tonight, I can’t possess people or kill them.”
“There is a room in the Department of Mysteries,” Dumbledore interrupted, “one that you
and your friends couldn’t enter tonight, one that is kept locked at all times. Inside, there’s a
force that is at once more wonderful and more terrible than death, than anything that there is.
It is also, perhaps, the Department of Mysteries’ most mysterious subject. It is the power
there that you possess in such quantities and which Voldemort has not at all. It’s what took
you to save Sirius tonight, what had Hermione following you tonight and so brilliantly saving
Sirius. That power also saved you from possession by Voldemort, because he could not bear
to reside in a body so full of the force he detests. In the end, it mattered not that you could not
close your mind. It was your heart that saved you.”
“Love,” Severus spoke, with barely restrained derision.
“Don’t scoff Severus, for you too have seen the power of love.”
Severus didn’t deign it to an answer.
Harry didn’t seem much satisfied with the answer. For a fifteen-year-old boy, a power that
wasn’t found with a flick of a wand wasn’t very useful. Instead, he asked, “Who was it,
Headmaster? Who—” Harry leaned back, seeking contact. “Who sealed my future?”
Oh, Harry. You cunning little thing.

“It was Voldemort, Harry. He made the choice in the end.”
“I know. But who—Who told him it was between me and Neville?” Harry asked and Severus
saw Dumbledore's hesitation. Severus closed off his expression and remained stoic. He would
wait. “I deserve to know. I—Please don’t lie to me.” Harry asked. “I almost lost Hermione
and Sirius because no one was being truly forthcoming.” Harry was taking the Truth Road his
sister had gone through last August. Forthcoming was her favourite word after all.
Severus saw, with chilling clarity, the moment Dumbledore decided telling Harry the truth
was advantageous to him. Because, had things been different, it would have been. Once
more, Harry would have his trust broken and Dumbledore would get to send Harry to the
Dursleys for the entire summer, alone and isolated. Harry would rage, rightly so, and Severus
and Harry would go back to five years ago. But worse, as Harry would now know Severus
had sentenced Lily and James to death and him to a life of loss and suffering.
Dumbledore would have used all that anger, moulded it and shaped it. Because he had done
once already, with Severus himself all those years ago.
He could see, crystal clear, how things would have been different. Harry would hate him. The
truce he found with Sirius and Remus would be gone, because Harry would tell in rage and
grief and maybe even Hermione, would share Harry’s pain.
“Oh, Harry. I’m so sorry.” Dumbledore told him, but he wasn’t sorry at all. “He’s right
behind you.” He said, his voice dripping with fake empathy.
Severus would join Narcissa in her banquet. He would even make a toast.
Harry got to his feet and turned around. Severus looked at the boy, caught the mischievous
wink and opened his mouth, “Harry…”
But the boy had already turned back to Dumbledore, “Thank you, Headmaster, for telling
me.”
“Harry, do you understand?” Dumbledore asked and for the first time in a long time, Severus
saw confusion in the old man’s face. Harry had destroyed his office for almost getting his
sister and godfather killed, by all means, upon learning Severus had sentenced him and his
parents, his anger would have him turning his wand. “It was Professor Snape’s mistake that
sealed your future.”
“I do, Headmaster,” Harry replied. “It’s… What you said, isn’t it? An old man’s mistake.”
Dumbledore stared. Speechless. Merlin, Severus could hear James Potter cheering from the
afterlife. But when he crowned it with, “Let’s go, Dad. I want to see my sister.” Severus
could hear Lily and Regulus hollering.
Severus blinked at the boy, who was trying very hard to not grin. Harry didn’t wait for a
reply, strutting ahead. Severus followed behind.
Only when they were far away from Dumbledore’s office, Severus spoke.
“The ‘dad' was a bit too much.” He commented, testing it.
Harry laughed, unbothered, “Did you see his face?”
“You are such a shit-head,” Severus told him and watched in amusement as the boy
sniggered.
“Thank you,” Harry told him.
“For calling you a shithead?”
Harry rolled his eyes, “For coming here. Being there, I guess.”
“Are you all right?” He asked. Severus hadn’t heard the beginning of Harry’s conversation
with Dumbledore, but he knew he wouldn’t forget the first thing he heard the boy scream so
soon.
Harry shrugged. “I don’t think I ever felt so frightened in my life.” Harry told him, “I know
I’ve been in danger before, countless of times, but this was the first time my choices had put
others in danger. For a moment, I really believed Sirius had died. That I had gotten him killed
because I made him come after me. During those thirty minutes I waited for Dumbledore in
his office, I—” He shook his head, “I felt so empty. Sirius was dead and the only thing I
knew was that Hermione was unconscious. I—I felt this white-hot anger and it festered while
I waited for him. Why had he sent me there? Why had he brought me back to the others?
Why was I alone?” Harry wasn’t looking at him while he spoke, his shoes were the most
interesting thing for the boy at the moment. “And then he arrived and told me he knew how I
was feeling.” A scowl, “I was so angry at him. He was saying the truth, you know? I did want
to attack him. I pictured myself doing it. And maybe it was Voldemort lingering inside,
maybe it was just me, but looking at him made me furious. But he had to make a speech, of
course, saying shit like pain makes us human, that my suffering was my biggest strength,
saying that what happened to them was his fault… and I lost it, he hadn’t told me a thing
about Sirius and Hermione. He made me think I had gotten both of them killed.” Harry
looked up then, “When you arrived you looked so devastated that I—I thought—that’s it,
she’s dead, he’s going to kill me. And then when Dumbledore said they were in St Mungos I
realised that you also didn’t know and it made me. So. Fucking. Angry.” Harry said with a
snarl. Severus didn’t bother to reprimand his swearing, he would be swearing just as much or
worse if Dumbledore had decided to play him like that.
“You handled him so well,” Severus told him. “Dumbledore has a way with words that makes
us feel guilty for his mistakes. You didn’t let him do it with you.”
“He's going to shit on you, won’t he? He knows about Narcissa, so he knows you were lying
to him.”
“Language, Harry.”
The boy rolled his eyes, “I thought we were past that now.”
It was Severus’ turn to roll his eyes, of course, the boy had noticed Severus hadn’t
reprimanded him. “You were being all deep and connected with your emotions, I didn’t want
to break your rhythm.”
“And I am the shithead!” Harry muttered and Severus did the boy the favour of ignoring him.
They had arrived at his office then. He grabbed the Floo powder and handed it to the boy,
“Say St Mungos and—” his left arm burned and he hissed. “Not now.”
“What is it?” Harry asked.
“I'm being called.” He said with gritted teeth.
“Voldemort?” Harry asked and he nodded. “Fuck him. Really, he just fucked up immensely
and he’s already calling you guys back?”
“We will never be past your atrocious vocabulary,” he told the boy. “Keep rolling your eyes
like that and they will get stuck at the back of your head.”
Harry snorted, “That's such a granddad thing to say.”
“How would you know? You don’t have grandparents.”
Harry scoffed. “You ARE a shithead.”
“Honestly, dealing with Voldemort is sounding more palatable than dealing with you.”
“Yeah? Tell him I said hi and that he missed me again.”
“Get into that Floo before I take you to him myself.”
Harry laughed and it felt good to hear it. To joke with the boy despite the circumstances. He
watched Harry climb inside, and saw the worry and anticipation pass through his eyes for a
moment, before he quickly hid it, “Good luck, Grandpa.” He joked.
“Stick with Dad,” Severus replied and it was so easy to do it.
The boy smirked, “St. Mungos!”
Severus didn’t have any idea of what to expect upon arrival. But since Harry was alive and
the prophecy had been destroyed before any of the death eaters could hear it, he knew it
wouldn't be a pleasant meeting.
He couldn’t, however, have ever expected to find only the Black sisters on their knees on the
marble floor in front of Voldemort.
Harry had been right, Voldemort had fucked up immensely.
“Severus,” Voldemort drawled, “Welcome.”

“My Lord.” Severus bowed. And Voldemort made him kneel.
“Tell me Severus, what is it that you notice?”
“The others have not yet returned.”
“No, they have not.” He said, Bellatrix next to him whimpered. “And they won’t be returning
for quite some time, I’m afraid.”
“I do not know what happened My Lord, I was at the castle.”
“You don’t?” Voldemort asked, “So let me enlighten you…” He chuckled then, terrible and
brittle. “Enlighten,” he repeated, for some reason finding amusement in the word. “Well,
that’s what she did. Shone quite the light in all of them.”
Severus felt his bones sizing up and his head being forced up. Voldemort was making him
look at him. “My Lord…”
“Such a shame your fatherhood will be brief.” Voldemort told him, “It turns out that I will
have to kill your daughter after all.”
“What has the girl done now?”
Narcissa was trembling next to him and Severus wasn’t exactly certain that was the aftermath
of a round with the Cruciatus.
“Bella has told me she broke the Veil and brought Sirius Black back from the dead.
Wandless.”
“That’s impossible,” Severus replied, despite having seen it in Harry’s memories. “The veil
—”
“I did not lie to my Master!” Bellatrix shrieked at him.
“Thank you, Bella,” Voldemort replied and forced her face back to the marble. “I shared the
same feeling as I was told, but Bellatrix’s memories proved it to be the truth.” He told him.
“She still has that pesky shield after all.”
“How?”
“A good question, Severus. As a father, what is your theory?”
“I haven’t heard of any magic like this.” He told, which was true. “She—The girl is average
at best in her studies. Every skill she has came from hours of breathing down on books.
There’s no talent.”
“Curious,” Voldemort replied. “Bella told me that she cast a shielding charm strong enough
to hold back multiple wizards firing at it.” And honestly, Severus wanted to remove
Bellatrix’s tongue to keep the woman quiet for good. “I could have you kill her for me.”
Voldemort said and Severus felt bile coming up, “It would be so easy. You are her professor,
Head of her House, her father. You would have no problem calling her to your office and
getting rid of her.”
Severus could smell the grass, and the summer air and hear Lily’s laugh, together they were
burying everything. His memories, his emotions, his love. Hide them in here Sev, he’s not
going to find them. “I can have it done.” Severus replied.
He’d get her from St Mungos and send her to the farthest part of the earth. He wouldn’t care
how much she fought him, how much she would hate him for it. He’d take her away and fake
her death.
“It would be fitting, wouldn’t it?” Voldemort laughed. “You killed your father and you would
kill your daughter. The unknowable Severus Snape.”
“My loyalties are only to you, my Lord.”
“And they are appreciated,” Voldemort replied. “But I will see to her myself.” Bellatrix was
chuckling next to him, while Narcissa was unmoved. “Only I have conquered death,”
Voldemort announced, “I want to see for myself what the little girl is capable of.” Nagini
hissed something that had him humming in agreement. “And after tonight’s events…” He
tsked and pointed his wand at Bellatrix, she flinched instantly and tried to corner away from
it. Voldemort laughed in scorn and moved on. He went to Narcissa and cradled her hair in his
long fingers. Narcissa was much stronger than Bellatrix because the woman didn’t move. “I
will see to the important things myself.”
Severus swallowed and braced himself. He needed to offer something. Lucius’ clear absence
and Narcissa’s position in her own Drawing Room were dangerous enough. Voldemort would
make them pay. Severus dreaded seeing the price. “My Lord,” he called. “The prophecy…”
Bellatrix whimpered at the mention of it and Voldemort let go of Narcissa’s hair to walk up to
where Severus was kneeling. His knees were starting to hurt. “Dumbledore showed it to the
boy.” He said and immediately began rearranging the events in his head. He put himself in
the corner, far from the boy and when Harry asked who had told Voldemort the first part of
the prophecy, Severus made sure to have Harry’s explosive reaction right after.
“Has he now?” Voldemort asked curiously and forced Severus to arch his back to face him.
Nagini came circling.
“Yes, My Lord,” Severus replied, ignoring the snake now hissing around him. “I was present.
I know it in its entirety.”
Voldemort’s red eyes glinted in anticipation and without a warning, barged inside.
Voldemort’s Legilimency was like a train wreck, pushing forward at speed and pushing
everything to the sides, not caring that it made the person feel like their head was about to
split open. The memories he wanted to see came forward and Severus showed him exactly
the piece of the prophecy he wanted Voldemort to see.
…will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the dark lord knows not… the one with
the power to vanquish the dark lord will be born as the seventh month dies…
Next, Voldemort saw Harry’s confusion and then Dumbledore’s explanation. Love. Severus
felt Voldemort laugh derisively inside his mind, the feeling was of a room made of glass
fracturing all at once. Severus didn’t need to take the effort to alter the rest of the memory, for
Voldemort had pulled back, satisfied.
“All those months and for this?” Voldemort scowled. “Love? Dumbledore believes that
something that can be so easily broken is strong enough to defeat me?” A scoff this time and
he returned to the dais he made for himself in the middle of the room. Nagini followed him.
“I will kill every person that boy ever loved until he has no one else and then I will kill him.”
They were dismissed and with every ounce of dignity they had left, Narcissa and Severus got
to their feet. Bellatrix decided to scramble to the dais and keep her simpering.
Narcissa left the Drawing Room and he followed her. In silence, they passed through rooms
and corridors and only when they reached Narcissa’s Morning Room in the opposite wing of
the Manor did she speak. Her eyes were red and violent and she grabbed his robes fiercely. “I
can’t feel her.” She hissed. “There's nothing. It’s empty.”
Severus’ brows furrowed. “Albus told us she and your cousin are unconscious—”
“Then he lied.” Narcissa snapped. “I felt her under the Lake, this—” her voice cracked, “it's
like she’s gone.”
Severus shook her head. “She can’t be.” He replied, but his hands had begun to shake and his
vision had begun to blur. He could feel every beat of his heart and they were painful, painful
because if he could translate the sorrow in Narcissa’s eyes and the panic in her voice, it meant
that his heart had dared to keep beating while his daughter’s had not. “Dumbledore wouldn’t
have allowed Harry and I to go to her without informing us.” Merlin, how could Voldemort
dismiss it so disdainfully? So flippantly? When the threadbare hope of his daughter being still
alive was the only thing that would keep him fighting tooth and nail, desperately, for it to be
true? “I was about to go to St Mungo's when He called. Harry is there.”
“I will go with you.”
“Narcissa.”
“My husband is in Azkaban,” she hissed at him. So that was what happened to the rest of
them. “He was sent to retrieve a prophecy and instead failed so immensely that not only got
eleven Death Eaters in Azkaban but got the Dark Lord to reveal himself.”
“He will ask for you.”
Narcissa’s lip curled upwards in disgust. “Bella is entertaining him. He won’t be for a while.
And she for a while longer.”
He knew when to argue with Narcissa and when to just accept he would be doing whatever
she wanted so, this time, he merely followed her through the door that led them to the
gardens and walked briskly through the rows and rows of flowers until the grounds allowed
them to Apparate out.
The reception area of the hospital was crowded as ever, this time now only with patients with
gruesome disfigurements but also with journalists. It was late morning, the first Prophet of
the day was probably out by now and Severus was certain something had been written. If
only about the destruction of the Ministry’s Atrium.
“Hermione Granger’s room,” Narcissa said, skipping ahead on the line without a second
thought. Severus flicked his wand from inside his robes and cast a Notice-Me-Not around
them.
“I'm sorry Madam, but you have to—”
“Don’t you know who you are talking to?” Narcissa barked and the witch at the desk looked
up. Her eyes showed recognition before her mouth.
“Mrs Malfoy,” the witch said in a surprised exhale. “How can I help?”
“Hermione Granger’s room.”
The witch’s face took the lime-green colour of her robe. “Mrs Malfoy, I—”
“I'm her father.” He spoke. “I have the right to see my daughter.”
“Yes, but we were instructed to not—”
“Imperio!” Narcissa cast. The witch’s eyes became unseen.
Severus sighed.
“Hermione Granger’s room. Now, if you please.”
“Of course.” She replied and checked her books. “Janus Thickey Ward. Room Fourteen.”
“Thank you,” Narcissa replied pleasantly and as soon as she dropped the curse, it was
Severus’ turn.
“Obliviate!”
Narcissa didn’t wait for him, and when he caught up with her on the elevator she snarled,
“Honestly, the treatment here has gone downhill. Donations and donations, for what? Be held
back at the door. Honestly.”
The short ride to the fourth floor was made in almost complete silence, save for Narcissa’s
flicking of her nails. She had cracked two already.
The witch downstairs didn’t need to bother with the number of the room because there were
two Aurors standing guard on a door halfway through the corridor. At the sight of the
newcomers, the man and woman pointed their wands. “Severus, please,” Narcissa said.
“You know why I’m here.” He told the two. “Let's us through Vance.”
“I know why you are here Snape, not her.”
That seemed to be enough for Narcissa. “I will get in immediately or else—”
The door opened and Severus saw Minerva standing there looking at the pair with frigid eyes.
“Else what?” Minerva said. She looked quite well for someone who had taken five stunners
to the chest at her age.
Narcissa glared. There were people outside and probably inside that still didn’t know who
Narcissa was to Hermione and given recent events, it wouldn’t be a good idea to disclose. “I
have every right to see her!”
And if it had been anyone else, it would be considered a shriek, but since it was Narcissa,
Narcissa Malfoy didn’t shriek.
“Your husband is in Azkaban right now because he attacked 15-year-olds! If you think, for a
second, that I will let you near any of my students—”
“You—”
“Let her in, Professor” Severus drawled. “You must know why she’s here.”
“There are Order Members inside, Severus. Her husband—”
Narcissa wasn’t listening, she jostled Minerva to the side and entered the room. Severus
quickly followed her. “My husband got three of them out. Now cease this annoyance and let
me see my goddaughter.” Narcissa hissed the last part.
A scoff somewhere from the corner, “For a second I thought all of that concern was for your
niece.”
Severus turned to find Andromeda sitting next to one of the beds, her husband was next to
her, while their daughter lay on top of the bed watching the entire thing quietly.
He didn’t care about that family reunion, because he had seen his daughter and his feet took
him straight to her.
Hermione and Sirius lay side by side, and a grief-stricken Remus sat between them. One of
his hands cradled Sirius’ hair, and the other held Hermione’s hand. Harry had clambered on
the bed with his sister. His face was once more, tear-stained.
“Oh, my girl.” He said once he got to her, gripping her other hand. Severus hated that the
room was filled with people. He wanted nothing more than to cradle her to his chest and let
the sheer panic that had taken over him over the past day subside by having her close to him.
Instead, he only looked up at Remus in question.
“It’s—” He shook his head because his eyes immediately filled up with tears. “They don’t
know what she did. I saw it happen but—” He shook his head again, “He died Severus, we all
saw him fall through, but she—she pulled him back or—I don’t know, maybe she pushed the
Veil back? The Healers have said they are connected, that’s why—” He stopped, inhaled, and
ran a thumb against Sirius’ forehead, “He will wake up when she does.”
“And when is that?” Severus asked. Because that was the question wasn’t it? That was the
reason why Remus was looking like that and why Harry had been softly crying still.
"They don’t know,” Remus whispered. “She’s magically exhausted, whatever she did, it took
too much.”
“We believe she cast a linking spell unintentionally.” A Healer spoke and Severus turned to
see the woman who had just entered the room. Severus noted that Narcissa was on
Hermione’s other side, pointedly with her back behind her sister and niece. “In her
desperation to save him, her magic did what it could. By linking herself to Mr Black, she kept
him alive when he crossed. It’s unfortunate that her grief destroyed the veil, she unknowingly
discovered a way for us to learn what lies on the other side.”
“I don’t care about what’s on the other side,” he hissed. “I care about her.”
“Of course,” she replied, only slightly flustered with her lack of tact. “As Mr Lupin said, it’s
possible that she both pulled him and pushed the Veil back. And by doing so, she magically
extinguished herself. At the moment, she’s still linked to Mr Black, which means Miss
Granger still has some magic left, albeit small.”
“And why does she—” Narcissa cut herself off, and Severus saw the threat of a tear.
Remus asked the question for Narcissa, “Why does the godparent bond feel broken?” Remus
asked. “Like there’s nothing on the other side.”
“Because during the moment Mr Black died, she did too.” The Healer told them with a sort
of detached tone that Severus would appreciate if it weren’t his daughter lying there being
dead for a moment. Harry sobbed on Hermione’s chest, squeezing her. Narcissa ran a hand
through the mess of curls.
“Oh my dear,” Narcissa said softly.
“I know it’s difficult,” the Healer said, which Severus doubted. “But think as if they are stuck
in a moment in time.”
“And this moment is one when both of them are dead.” Severus retorted acerbically.
“No. Sleeping profoundly. Deep in dreams.” She replied and Harry scowled. Severus heard a
murmur of ‘I hate dreams’ coming from him. “Her signals show that she is healing. Her
magic is healing. It just has to heal enough to sustain both of them.”
“And what about Sirius’ magic?” Narcissa asked, “Is it possible that not even in death he can
be helpful?”
Remus glared at her, “Do you have to be terrible even now?”

“Oh, no Remus. Don’t be fooled,” Andromeda spoke and he noticed Narcissa’s entire body
react to her sister’s voice. “She is caustic when she cares. It’s the indifference you have to
concern yourself with. The silence.”
And silent Narcissa remained.
The Healer, now more flustered than before, tried to explain, but her eyes kept moving
between the Black sisters in fear of them. “Because Mr Black was the one to cross, he can’t
access his magic for the time being, but we have all the reasons to believe he will be able to
once Miss Granger's core becomes strong enough.”
“So we just wait?” He asked irritably.
“I'm afraid so.”
“No,” Narcissa replied and swiftly, pulled her wand and pointed at the Healer. Not again
“Narcissa!” He hissed. Minerva moved at once and Tonks, who was still visibly weak tried to
get up from her bed.
The Healer’s eyes became unfocused and she smiled at nothing, and then nodded at Minerva,
“Bye!” She said with a wave and left the room, completely ignoring Minerva’s attempts at
communication.
Minerva whirled at Narcissa then, “You hexed a Healer!” Minerva said desperately. “In front
of an Auror! There are two more outside this very door!”
Severus of course didn’t mention that she did worse on the way there.
“We do not have time for your morals." Narcissa snapped. "The Dark Lord has announced
she is his current target,”
“What?” Remus asked. The man’s amber eyes went straight to him. Severus nodded.
“My—” Narcissa turned then, finally acknowledging her older sister's presence, because he
too, if he had the option, wouldn’t choose to carry his relationship with Bellatrix alone. “Our
sister was so kind to tell yesterday’s evening’s events to the Dark Lord.” Narcissa said, “She
can’t stay here. He knows she’s here.”
“And she’s not the only one on his list,” Severus said. “He's under the belief that if he kills
everyone Harry loves, Harry will be too weak to fight him.”
“Harry's just a boy!” Minerva cried.
The boy merely rolled his eyes, Severus sent him a warning look. Harry opened his mind and
Severus saw, as clearly as if the boy had used his words, Voldemort is such an asshole.
“We saw today that neither You-Know-Who nor his followers care about that.” Andromeda
replied with a scoff, “Fighting children. Honestly. And they dared to promise grandness.”
Severus looked at Narcissa who was trying very hard to not curl her lips in distaste.
Andromeda had sounded so much like Narcissa just then.
“We have to move them to Hogwarts.” Tonks said, “They will be too easy targets here. And
not only them, because I’m pretty sure we will have a hard time getting him away.” She said
pointing at Harry.
“I'm right here.”
“And that’s the problem, isn’t it?” She replied cheekily.
Minerva sighed. “We can take them to Pomfrey, the Healer—” Minerva shot a glare to
Narcissa as she said it, “was clear. We have to wait for Hermione. She will be safer there,
You-Know-Who won’t dare to make a move on the castle.”
“And how do we move them?” Teddy Tonks asked. “There are reporters everywhere
outside.”
“Since it’s settled,” Narcissa spoke. “I have to return.” She checked her wristwatch and
clicked her tongue. “Bella must be finished sleeping with the enemy by now. Quite literally.”
“Ew,” Harry said and his face was of pure disgust.
Andromeda tutted, “She always had terrible taste. She could have chosen Rabastan.”
“Aunt,” a shy voice called. It had been so out of character that it took Severus a moment to
realise it came from Tonks. “The girls told me what he did. I asked for him. He won’t get a
release or a trial anytime soon, but he can have visitors. And letters.”
Narcissa nodded shortly and just to spite her sister added, “I'm glad you are all right.”
“Thank you."
Narcissa left, leaving them to stare at her wake.
Andromeda was the first to break the silence. “The single right thing he did was to name her
after a poisonous flower.”
Minerva didn’t miss a beat, “Really Severus? Narcissa? For godmother?”
“I'm not explaining myself to you.”
She only scoffed. “I have to get back to the school. Merlin knows what that Toad-headed
asinine woman has done in my absence.” Harry snorted and Minerva stopped, remembering
the boy was still there. “I did not say that Mr Potter.”
“Of course not, Professor.”
She glared at him. “Good.”

“You need not worry about her Minerva,” Severus replied. “Harry and Hermione dealt with
her before they left.”
Her eyes widened slightly. “Please don’t tell me or I will be obligated to remove points.” She
replied. “See you in the castle.”
“See you.”
It was Remus’ turn to speak, “It's settled then? Two members of the Black family are the
limit for a mostly civilised conversation.”
It took Draco Malfoy falling face first in a body-locking curse to realise he had thoroughly
devoted himself to a girl that was— “Hermione what the hell!” Potter exclaimed.
“He wouldn’t let me go.” She said.
“And you thought PARALYSING YOUR BOYFRIEND WAS THE WAY TO GO?” Weasley
shouted, “Are you MENTAL?” —That.
If Draco was being honest with himself, he’d say she smarted him by seconds to spare. He
would have done the same to her if she hadn’t been faster. And the only reason Hermione had
been faster was that she didn’t need to concern herself with the possibility of being hexed
right after casting the spell. Which Draco knew he would have.
“Don't you dare, Hermione,” Theo told her. Draco would have laughed if he could. If
Hermione had been that drastic with him, a very understanding person, that was no way Theo
would escape his faith under her wand.
“Please Theo,” Hermione begged. “You can’t go.”
“Hermione, this is what we have been working on. That’s why I—”
“I know, Theo. I know.” She cried and Draco wanted her to hex him already and stop crying.
He hated when she cried. “I can’t be worried about you. I won’t.” Hermione was telling
Theo. “I can’t force him to stay, I can’t go and risk losing both of you. Please. I can’t protect
him if I’m worried about you.”
“And who’s going to protect you, Granger?” Theo asked her, a fucking valid point.
“I'm sorry Theo.” She said. Draco waited.
“Petrificus Totalus!” It came from Blaise’s voice. Oh well, romantic.
Theo fell next to him. From the corner of his eye, he saw that Theo fell on his back. “I won’t
lose you,” Hermione said, Draco knew there would be fury in Theo’s eyes.
“Don't need to worry about me. I’m not going.” Pansy said.
“Thank you, Pansy.”
“Oh no, Hermione. I’m furious with you. Don’t be mistaken.”
Draco agreed with Pansy. There was a fury within his bones that he wished would be enough
to break the spell and then return the favour and keep her here, safe, with him.
But of course, Miss Greatest Witch Of Her Age had been brutal with her spell and he had to
hear her leave with a group of the most useless students he could have ever imagined.
He felt a pair of hands turning him around and met with Pansy’s anxious eyes. He glared at
her. “Oh Blaise, they will kill us.”
“Fuck, I know.” He replied, “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
“What? And what do we do with them?”
“We drag them.”
No. He glared at Pansy again. She ignored him and began to pull him through the arm as if
he, Draco Lucius Malfoy, was nothing more than a rag doll.
Blaise would be receiving a well-aimed punch the moment Draco freed himself. But for the
moment, he was being dragged through the dirt.
“Where is she?” Someone barked, “Where did she go?” He recognised his godfather’s voice
then. Oh shit.
“She's gone. They are gone.” Pansy told him. “They went after Sirius.”
Severus cursed. “What happened?” The pair resumed the entire ordeal. His eyes met Severus.
“Take them to Madam Pomfrey. Tell her not to break the spell on them.”
Draco glared and tugged on their bond like he was five and an utterly spoiled child who
didn’t want to hear no. Severus glared at him.
Unfreeze me this instant! He shouted, trying to make it as painful as possible.
“Sir?” Blaise asked.
“Lucius and Nott Senior are at the Ministry of Magic. Those two would go after her if given
the chance. This will be difficult enough without them trying to make things worse.”
She has Longbottom and Weasley with her! He tried again, They are useless!
“And Sirius?” Blaise asked.
“He's fine. They are going into a trap.”
Uncle! Please, but Severus wasn’t even looking at him anymore.
“Get them back, Sir,” Pansy begged him, “Please bring them back.”
…
It was hours before anything happened. Madam Pomfrey was agitated, Pansy was sitting next
to him, crying softly and apologising. He didn’t care, he’d hex her as soon as he got his hand
moving again. He couldn’t see Blaise, but Draco suspected he was bargaining his forgiveness
with Theo.
Sometimes Draco wondered what would Theo do if it came between Hermione and Blaise.
He knew his best friend would kill and die for Hermione, they had had that conversation
once. It had made him burn with jealousy, the thought of someone else loving her so much,
even if differently. Especially because with every passing day, Theo’s place next to her grew
more and more certain while his place grew uncertain.
He heard a commotion and his heart grew heavy as he tried to listen. Pansy had gotten up to
her feet and he had to watch her expression to figure out what was happening. Madam
Pomfrey was ushering some people inside. He heard Molly Weasley’s voice, and maybe
another Weasley - there were so many of them -, there was also a man he didn’t recognise the
voice.
And then Pansy sat back down. Her eyes filled with tears and they fell when their eyes met.
“She's not with them,” Pansy told him. “Draco, they are not here.”
His heart pounded in his ears and the only thing he could think of was that he didn’t tell he
loved her when he found her in the Forbidden Forest. His hands curled in fists and it took a
moment to realise that he could move.
He jumped the moment Theo did.
“Draco!” Pansy exclaimed, jumping away from him.
“Where is she?” Draco asked, rushing to where the others had just been placed. Both
Weasleys and Lovegood were back. The voice he didn’t recognise was his uncle.
“Fuck's sake Theo, stay put.” Draco heard Blaise saying.
“Where the fuck is she? Why is she not here?” He asked again.
Someone groaned in pain, Draco guessed it was Blaise, but he was too busy glaring at
Weasley to check.
“They didn’t get to us in time,” his cousin replied. “I had the portkey, but the Death Eaters
got to where we were and Harry and Hermione ordered us to leave.”
A cry from somewhere behind him. It sounded like Pansy.
“And you did?” He asked. His entire body shook. “You left her behind?”
“I'm sorry Draco.”

He bit the insides of his cheek, his chest hurt and the buzzing in his ears grew louder by the
second.
“Your father helped,” the Weasley girl replied. “His portkey—”
Draco whirled around. “It was my father’s portkey?” He asked, his voice left him in a gasp.
“He doesn’t care about any of you.” Draco said, the tears burning behind his eyes, “It was her
portkey and you left her behind.” He hissed.
“Mr Malfoy, your colleagues just went through an ordeal—” Madam Pomfrey took a step
closer to him but he pushed her tentative arm away.
“No. I don’t care.” He snapped. Draco turned to Weasley, “If she doesn’t return to me, I will
kill you myself."
“Now listen here, boy!” Molly lashed, but he didn’t care. None of these people mattered to
him. He turned around and walked to the other side of the Hospital Wing. His reflection
stared back at him.
His father was there and he had risked himself to save Hermione. Draco had spent the entire
year ignoring his father’s letters, he had read them of course, and none of them had the slight
clue that Lucius Malfoy would anything of the sort.
Theo was ordering answers and explanations and Draco tried to tune them out. He didn’t care
what happened, Hermione wasn’t here.
He saw Pansy approaching and scowled, “Go away,”
She ignored him and wrapped her arms around his neck instead, hugging him, “We will get
her back.” She told him, her voice shaky, “She’s not crazy to leave us.”
Draco hugged her back, burying his face on her shoulder. They squeezed one another. Years
had passed since the last time he had let Pansy comfort him. They had been kids still and she
had held him like she was doing now. He hated it, that she once more was seeing him weak,
rattling like he was about to fall apart. Pansy began to count because she had probably
realised by then that he was close to hyperventilating. “Pans—”
“I know.” She whispered, “We will get her back.” She promised him. “Potter will pull a
fucking miracle again, he will bring his sister to us.”
“Draco,” Theo called and Draco raised his head to look at the other boy.
Theo opened and closed his mouth, no words coming out. And Draco could understand, fuck,
he had just thought it, hadn’t he? Theo loved her just as much. She is the best thing that
happened to us Draco, can’t you see it?
He pulled from Pansy, jerked away abruptly and Theo met him halfway. They gripped each
other fiercely, Theo’s hands were twisting the shirt on Draco’s back. They didn’t need words
between them. A lifetime of sharing impossible standards from their fathers and desperately
seeking their approval, just to have all of their beliefs crumble down because of a tiny girl
who didn’t reach their chin, a tiny girl that both of them would kill and die for.
The four of them stayed huddled together in their corner, Blaise with now a purple eye - Theo
had accidentally elbowed him trying to jump on the Weasleys - held Theo’s hand firmly, their
fingers entwined. Pansy had her arm locked with his and she rested her head on his shoulder
as they waited.
No one came for them. Sometimes he’d feel his father’s brother's eyes on him, but he refused
to acknowledge him. Especially after he came to tell Draco about Lucius’ promise to him.
Fuck the promise.
An entire day passed without anyone else returning. Madam Pomfrey made them leave, after
all, none of them required medical treatment. It was during lunch that they learned things had
gone terribly wrong at the Department of Mysteries. The daily prophet had a hastily written
piece of last evening’s events. Fudge had given a brief interview confirming Voldemort’s
return and that the Ministry had been under attack from a number of his followers. There
were no further details on the attack or on what happened to the Death Eaters present.
Draco had a very bad feeling about it all.
A bad feeling that transformed into dread the second he saw Harry Potter by the Great
Staircase without Hermione.
One second, Draco was next to Pansy, the other, he had his want pressed against Harry’s
chest and the boy pushed up against the wall. “Where is my girlfriend?” He hissed.
“Mr Malfoy!” Someone shrieked behind him. The voice was too far away to have any
importance.
“She’s—” Potter breathed out with difficulty. Draco was pressing quite hard. “She—” His
green eyes grew furious and he tried to push Draco away, “get off me.”
Draco did get off him, but because someone else had pulled him back. Theo.
“How dare you come back without her?” Theo snarled and one more time Potter was pushed
against a wall.
“Mr Nott!”
“I didn’t.” Potter replied and shoved Theo away, “She's at the Hospital Wing. I came here to
let you fuckers know.”
And Draco was moving. Belatedly, he realised it was McGonagall shouting for them because
he passed her on the stairs as he climbed two steps at a time.
“Why did you slap me for?” Draco heard Potter ask in indignation.
Draco didn’t bother turning back to look, after all, there was a reason why he loved Pansy
Parkinson.
“Stop running!” McGonagall ordered. Theo, Blaise, Pansy and Daphne were coming up as
well, “Ten points from Slytherin! From all of you!”
The five of them - and Potter behind - almost knocked the Hospital Wing’s doors from their
hinges. Madam Pomfrey barked again. He saw his godfather and the wolf turning around.
“This is a place for rest!” Madam Pomfrey called, they passed by her, “They are unconscious
they are not going anywhere.”
“What happened?”
“How's she?”
“Hermione!”
“I told you they would kill me,” Potter said from behind them.
“You look alive to me,” Severus replied.
“Hey, hey,” Remus was saying, putting an arm out, “Slow down.”
Draco was the first to reach Hermione. “Oh, Granger.” He said, holding her sleeping face and
resting his temple against hers. Finally, he could breathe again.
“Why is she—” Theo asked Lupin. Draco had no idea where the rest of his question went.
“Magical depletion,” Lupin answered. “We need to wait for her magic to heal.”
“Wake up Granger,” he whispered against her lips, “I'm so angry at you, it’s not fair you pull
the injured card on me like that.”
“And Sirius?” Blaise asked.
"Same thing,” Lupin replied.
“Let me,” Theo murmured, “Draco… let—” Draco moved, letting the others see her.
He noticed quite a few things when his vision wasn’t funnelled. First, it was how Theo held
onto Lupin as his life depended on it. Second, was Pansy and Potter hugging, she made
herself smaller as she held his torso. The last thing he noticed was Severus watching him
intently from the corner.
Draco walked towards him.
“I need to tell you something, Draco,” Severus said, Draco only nodded. “Your father is in
Azkaban."
Pain shot up from his left arm for the first time. He knew it wouldn't be the last.
Chapter End Notes

A surprise POV! People asked for a Harry's POV but I thought to give an insight inside
our favourite posh boy's head. Man, I really love Narcissa and how her blasted family
members keep popping up again in her life.
I also love Harry, book Harry and all his sass and sarcasm that we were robbed of in the
movies. Well, he's here AND he has a group of Slytherins influencing him as well.
Harry is chaotic enough in Gryffindor, can you imagine the possibilities if he had been
sorted Slytherin?
Anyway, let me know what you think!! As always, you can find me on twitter or
instagram is moonyhoax
happiness seems further than the moon
Chapter Notes
Hello!! thank you so so much for all the comments last week!
A few warnings regarding this chapter: it's very heavy on the feels so please be cautious.
TW: mentions of suicide, talks about depression
The title and the quote at the beginning are from Stay by Monika Linkyte.
I took it all on myself

I asked for nobody's help
Had to taste it and embrace it
All the bitterness of failure
To find myself within me
Chapter Fifty-Nine
The week seemed to drag. With the classes over, nothing was keeping the Slytherins
occupied so they wouldn’t stand vigil around Hermione’s hospital bed. Not that Remus was
much different, Minerva gave him the Defence quarters again after they got rid of Umbridge
- Dumbledore had been the one to remove her from the Centaurs’ hold - and the wolf spent
most of his time at the hospital wing as well. And despite Minerva forbidding it, Severus
knew that both Theodore and Harry were spending a lot of time with Remus in his quarters.
Dumbledore, of course, had wanted to speak with him, but it was only three days before the
end of the term that Severus found himself in front of the Headmaster’s office. Dumbledore
had been busy, between the news of Voldemort’s return, the Dementors’ fighting orders in
Azkaban and the new and returned prisoners, he had barely spent an entire day in the castle.
There were alliances to be made and renewed, people to contact and plans to be traced.
But at last, Severus had been called.
“So, Severus.” Albus said, “Is it triple spy now?”
“Hardly think so, Albus.”
“It turns out you did know you were a father and where Hermione had been all these years.”
“Yes.”
“Tell me, was it Lily who told you? Or was it Remus? Last year’s events tell me Sirius didn’t
know. Or was that an act as well?”
Severus sighed and removed the letter Mary and Lily had written to Hermione. He had asked
for it again because he knew there would be no escaping from Dumbledore this time. He
handed the letter, “Mary doesn’t want to be contacted,” Severus told him. “She made it clear
after Remus sent her a Howler after these came in the mail for Hermione.”
Albus hummed and read the letters. Severus just watched him. “Illuminating. When did Miss
McDonald send this?”
“The second week of October.”
Albus’ blue eyes twinkled at that. “Humour me Severus, I have to admit that I’m almost too
curious about everything.”
“Lily told me in January of that year when they were already in hiding.” Severus began, “I
had just helped Narcissa get pregnant with Draco, so I went straight to her.”
It filled him with resignation having to tell Dumbledore what they had done, but at the same
time, there was satisfaction as well, because they had done it. All under his nose.
Dumbledore finally learned how they had hidden Hermione and kept her that way. He told
Dumbledore everything, just keeping to himself Regulus and the things they had learned
from him.
“We just wanted her safe.” He said in the end.
“And what about the boy?”
“What about him?”
“He calls you Dad, Severus.”
“He doesn’t,” Severus replied with a barely restrained snort, “he did so to aggravate you. He
was quite angry.”
“That he was. And justifiably so.” Albus agreed. The old man sighed and removed his glasses
to rest them on his desk. He massaged his eyes with his thumb and forefinger before speaking
again, “Be honest with me Severus. Harry knew you were the one who overheard the
prophecy that killed his parents, he agreed to you teaching him Occlumency that very same
day, it’s undeniable that he trusts you, he ran to your arms when moments before I worried I
would have to stop him from trying to attack me. Is it really such a foreign concept? You are
his sister’s father after all.”
“I stand by my promise to you all those years ago Albus, I will protect him. And I would die
for both of them.”
“I worried that it would be so.”
“Worried?”
“Harry has a part to play in this war. Perhaps the most important one. Many will die for him
before he does it.” Dumbledore replied and it chilled Severus to the bones. “I’ve watched you
grow Severus, you were a scared and angry young boy when we first met. I saw you become
full of hatred and I saw you let go of it all. Most importantly, I saw you choose to do the right
thing. It saddens me that perhaps neither of us will get to see what his sacrifice will bring.”
His sacrifice.
Dumbledore not only knew Harry was a Horcrux and had to die, but he was also counting on
it.
“I’ve never dreamt of a future for myself Albus,” he replied instead. Perhaps the biggest lie
he had told to this day. Because for the past year, he had let himself want. He wanted not only
a future but a life, a family. He’d tolerate Sirius Black for the rest of his days if it meant he
got another Christmas filled with the sound of laughter. “To take her away had been Lily’s
only request and that was the only thing that mattered to me.”
“Very well,” Albus replied. He picked up his glasses again and put them back, “I wish you
could have trusted me with her Severus, but seeing how Harry’s life turned out to be, I
understand your reticence. She might not harbour any fondness for me but I am at least glad
that she has so many people dedicated to her.”
Whether it was dedication or something else, Severus realised as he left Dumbledore’s office
that Sirius Black and Hermione Granger lying unconscious on those hospital beds formed a
circle of destruction around them. And it would keep taking everything and everyone until
they woke up.
“Mr Potter!” He called, for Harry had just punched Gregory Goyle in the face in the middle
of the corridor. “Ten points from Gryffindor. Facing off the Dark Lord doesn’t give you the
freedom to punch your classmates.”
“He—”
“Be quiet if you don’t wanna lose another ten,” Severus replied. Harry was glaring at Severus
now, he ignored it. “Mr Goyle, go to the hospital wing so Madam Pomfrey can check you
out.”
Goyle smirked at Harry and Harry advanced again, “You will stay the hell away from my
sister!” Severus held Harry back by the hood of his cloak.
“Mr Potter!” He snarled.
“He said he wished she had died!” Harry said, still struggling against him.
Severus turned to the Slytherin boy, who tried to avoid his eyes. He fixed the boy’s apparent
broken nose himself with a flick of his wand. Goyle exclaimed in pain as he hadn’t taken the
care to be careful. “You won’t be needing to go to Madam Pomfrey after all. Now scatter,
both of you.”
Goyle smirked at Harry again but left in the opposite direction of the Hospital Wing.
Harry crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Ten points to Gryffindor for defending another
student,” Severus said. Harry harrumphed and left.
Twice more he had to intervene. The next day he was called by the portraits inside the
Slytherin common room because a group of Slytherins were firing at one another. He went to
remove Theodore, Blaise and probably Miss Parkinson from whatever they had gotten
themselves involved in.
Half of the chairs and tables had been turned, books were on the floor and as surmised, the
three of them were involved, with the addition of Miss Greengrass. “What is the meaning of
this?” He barked, retrieving all of their wands.
He found his godson slightly behind Theodore and Parkinson. He had actual murder in his
eyes and his wand hand shook at his side.
No one answered him and he refused to repeat himself. He turned to Mr Warrington, who
currently had his knees at the back of his legs and was being held up by Ledbury. The boy
scowled. “Nott,” he spat, “As if it wasn’t enough being a poof and taking up in the ass—”
Both girls moved to hold Zabini back at that, “preferred to be a blood traitor and hide with a
half-breed than to honour his father's legacy.”
“Mr Warrington, watch your language.”
Theodore laughed, “What fucking legacy? Getting sent to Azkaban by fifteen-year-olds?” He

asked and wiped the blood that was seeping from the cut on his cheek.
He sighed, “Theodore if you could do the same.” The boy was clearly itching for a fight,
even without a wand, he was ready to throw a punch. “Go to Madam Pomfrey so she can get
that cleaned.” He said. After all, it was the unconscious girl there the reason behind nerves
being on edge.
The third occurrence had been outside the Hospital wing the day before the students had to
take the train.
“Get the hell out of here!” Draco had been yelling, “You have no right to be here! None!”
“Do you think she will want to see you?” Weasley had retorted, “It was your Daddy out there,
firing curses at us like the coward he is!”
“You take my father out of your fucking mouth!” Draco shouted just when Severus turned the
corner. The blond had the other boy pressed against the stone walls.
“You don’t deserve her.” Weasley hissed. “Soon she’s going to see that you are a worthless
piece of Death Eater spawn.”
Draco had his wand ready, “Confrin—” and Severus took it from him before he could finish
the spell. Not feeling deterred, Draco threw a well-aimed punch. Weasley’s head was
knocked back against the wall with force.
Severus took hold of Draco because the boy had followed Weasley to the ground, “He’s
unconscious Draco!” Draco struggled against him and Severus had to grab the boy’s
shoulders forcefully. “Listen to me,” he said, making the boy look at him, “You can’t lose it
like this.”
“She’s—Uncle, she still hasn’t woken up. Why hasn’t she woken up?” The boy asked.
“I don’t know Draco,” Severus replied, “But I do know she will hate to know that all of you
have been picking up fights left and right in her absence,”
“He was there talking to her, holding her hand,” Draco scowled, jealousy dripping from his
tongue. Merlin, help him. “She can’t stand him, what even was he doing there?”
“Draco, listen to me.” Severus said again, “You are in a very delicate position right now. You
managed to spin your behaviour the day Potter returned by saying it was because of your
father’s arrest. You will not explain knocking Weasley out that easily. They are watching you
and they are watching me. Don’t you think I wanted to curse Warrington myself? Or Goyle
for telling Potter he wished Hermione had died?” Draco’s eyes grew dark at that, “You will
not do a single thing to Goyle, you hear me?”
“How do you do it?” Draco asked, “How do you—” a sigh so deep that took all the fight
away from him, “How do you keep your wits about when she’s like that? When you have to
make everyone believe that you wouldn’t in fact kill everyone for her?”
“I focus my anger on the one who deserves it the most,” Severus replied. “I will make him
pay for all of this.”
The boy nodded and resolution fell onto his shoulders. Another nod, yet another scowl in
Weasley’s direction, and Draco turned back to look at Severus, “he will pay.”
The voices came first. There were dozens of them. Maybe not dozens, but it was definitely
more than two.
Hermione recognised Harry’s, and then Draco’s. Theo’s and Blaise’s came after. She could
hear Pansy’s and Daphne’s as well. Remus was there too and Professor McGonagall. Yes,
they were all there.
“It is not possible to remain in the castle during the summer,” Minerva was saying. She
sounded tired, like someone who had repeated herself more than once.
“Well, I’m an underage wizard and my dad, not my inmate of a father, is staying.”
“Theo…” That was Remus, sounding as tired as Professor McGonagall.
“Where am I supposed to go? I can’t be at home by myself!” Theo retorted.
“Ouch!” Harry complained, “Yes! My— My guardian is staying—well, he’s the patient, I
have to stay too.”
“Harry,” Professor McGonagall said with a sigh, “You know full well you have a place to
stay.”
“My sister’s dad told me I don’t have to return there, I don’t want to go against his wishes.
He’s a very serious man.”
“You will hang out less with them next year, do you hear me?” Minerva said.
“Oh please, Professor” That was Pansy, “We make him interesting.”
Hermione realised she could feel them too, someone was sitting on the bed by her feet on the
left side. Another, by her waist on the right. Madam Pomfrey must have lost the fight if she
had allowed them to climb on the bed like that. Because she was at the Hospital Wing, wasn’t
she? The smell of antiseptics was telling.
She tried to remember how had she ended up there. They had gone to the Ministry. The Death
Eaters had been there. Lucius had given her a portkey and she gave it to Luna. They fought in
the Death room. Sirius died—No, he hadn’t. Not exactly. Not completely. She remembered
now.
They were still talking, arguing, bargaining, threatening to hide in the castle, to hex one
another so all of them would have to stay in the hospital wing. Pansy had half a spell out
when Hermione opened her mouth, “I didn’t miss the O.W.L.S scores, did I?”
She had opened her eyes because she couldn’t miss their reaction, not when all of them had
gone silent and were staring at her open-mouthed and wide-eyed.
“Oh, pup” Remus was the first to react and he pulled her to his arms, jostling Harry and
Draco from the bed. She hugged him as he squeezed her. Professor McGonagall was calling
for Madam Pomfrey, “I was so worried, so desperate. I thought—” he broke down in sobs
and she felt her own eyes watering.
“I’m okay,” she replied. “I'm okay.”
Someone hugged her from behind, and she recognised Harry, he too was crying. Soon, there
wasn’t a part of her that wasn’t being hugged by all of her friends.
“Please, I need you all to move,” Madam Pomfrey said, “I need to check her vitals.”
They were pried away from her, but none of them moved too far. The matron cast her spells
and sighed in relief when everything shone green around Hermione. “I’m okay,” she replied.
To prove her point, she skirted to the edge of the bed and moved her legs to the floor. She
looked over at Sirius, who was still unconscious.
She remembered.
She had seen it too. Seen them.
Choose him Sirius, she thought. Choose us.

Remus caught her looking, “Pup?” He asked, his tone wary and Merlin, so afraid. “Is he—”
Choose him, Sirius Black
“Don't get your knickers on a twist, Moony. I’m not going anywhere.” He groaned and
Hermione blew out a breath. For a second there she didn’t believe.
Remus shivered and grabbed Sirius by the face, kissing him deeply in front of everyone.
There were tears everywhere. Sirius, because he was Sirius, moaned. Professor McGonagall
flustered, “There are kids in here!”
“You pull that one on me again Padfoot and I swear to God—”
“Oh Moony, you truly love me.”
“Of course, I love you, you idiot.” Remus replied exasperated, “I’ve loved you from the
moment I came into this earth.”
Hermione found it very lovely, but the others around them all groaned, cringing.
Someone tugged at her wrist and she turned to see Draco there, his grey eyes were red. She
took hold of his cheek and leaned in. They kissed too and the others groaned again.
“Theo and I will start making out again if you don’t stop.”
“You will do no such thing Mr Zabini. One time was more than enough.” Professor
McGonagall replied briskly.
“And what about—”
Hermione broke away from Draco to glare at her best friend, “Pansy.” She said.
“Never mind,”
Draco grinned at her, “I missed you something terrible.” He whispered and dropped his arms
around her, “Don't leave us again.”
“I won’t.” She told him.
“I caught your brother and Pansy hugging,” Draco added as an afterthought. Hermione
gasped.
“Oi! Fuck off!” Harry said in exasperation.
“Okay, okay.” Madam Pomfrey said, “Since Miss Granger and Sirius are up and well.” She
shot a reprimanding look at Sirius, who had sneaked a hand under Remus’ shirt when no one
was looking. “You can finally leave the Hospital Wing and let me have a moment of peace.”
Sirius snorted. “I can’t believe that I’m being kicked out of the Hospital Wing again after
twenty years.”
Madam Pomfrey wasn’t done glaring, “It’s your fault since you behave as indecently as you
did then!”
She shooed them all out, pushing them all the way to the corridor.
Remus then told her and Sirius what had happened. Neither of them told him he hadn’t
needed to. Neither of them said that it had been more than merely suspended in time.
Pansy hugged her once Remus finished explaining, “I can forget about being angry at you if
you forget about me kissing your brother,” She said.
“WHAT?” Blaise exclaimed, “You kissed Potter?”
Pansy winked at Blaise, completely ignored Harry who had crimson cheeks and pulled
Daphne by the hand, “Since we are taking the train after all, I have to pack my things.” She
announced before she left, Daphne in toll.
“You?” Blaise was still dumbfounded, “Kissed Pansy. You?”
Hermione rolled her eyes and turned to look for Theo, who was very quiet. He was looking at
her. “Theo?” She asked quietly, the others were too focused on taking the piss out of Harry.
He shook his head, the white of his eyes was red with unshed tears, and the blue was even
more piercing than normal. His jaw was set and he was biting the insides of his lower lip. “I
won’t forgive you for leaving me behind.” He told her, “I’m fucking glad that you are back
—” his voice broke and she watched him Occlude before he finished, “but if you pull that
again Hermione… we are done.”
“Theo,”
“No. I trust you with my life. You don’t trust me with yours.” He leaned in to kiss her temple,
“I love you, don’t do that again.” Theo turned to Blaise, “Stop harassing Harry, Love. We
also have to pack our things.”
When Theo and Blaise left, Draco took her hand. “He will come around.”
“No, he won’t,” Hermione replied.
“I will talk to him,” he said, kissing her lips and her forehead, “I love you.” He told her with
the most beautiful expression she had ever seen on him.
“I love you,” She replied and watched him hurry to catch up with Theo and Blaise.
“Hey, pup, are you okay?” Remus asked her.
Hermione nodded.
“Moony, why don’t you go with Harry help him pack and I go with Hermione?”
“You are forbidden from entering the Slytherin Common Room, remember?”
Sirius rolled his eyes, “No one there remembers it.”
“I’m pretty sure Snape does.”
“He will be so consumed by complicated feelings when he sees Hermione that he will forget
all about me,”
Remus rolled his eyes, but acquiesced, “Come on Harry, it’s been years since I last been at
the Tower.”
Hermione waited for them to go. She knew Sirius didn’t want to accompany her to the
Dungeons.
“I know you saw it too.” He said once Harry and Remus were gone.
Hermione nodded. “You didn’t want to come back.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“You saw them. James, Reggie, Lily. They were there.”
“I know.” She replied and the first tear fell, “And they will remain there. You know they are
waiting for you. Why did you want to go now?”
He let a tear fall too, “I don’t know Hermione.” He replied. “I guess I miss them more than I
thought.”
“I wouldn’t have let you go.”
“I know.”
“I was the only thing tethering you here.” She said, more tears falling, “Your life was literally
in my hands and you didn’t want it.”
“No.” He replied, fully crying now. “I'm tired Hermione.”
“I know,” she said, because she knew it now, just how much. There—whatever there was—
the afterlife, the in-between, she and Sirius had been one. His body had crossed, but her mind
had followed. They were one body and two minds in Death and two bodies and one mind in
Life.
“Tell me how to be in this world,” he begged her, “how to breathe and not feel pain in my
chest, in my very bones.”
“I can’t do that.” She cried.
“I want to want to stay.” He told her.
“I'm just a kid, Sirius.”

He nodded, “I’m sorry, Hermione.”
“I know you are.” She replied. And forced herself to ask the question, “Why did you come
back then?”
“Because I would have taken you with me.” He said and her heart broke.
She never felt pain so terrible. Pain like a dagger had been forced through her chest. Was this
her or him still? Her ribs felt like splitting open and she had to bite down hard on her lip to
stop it from quivering, the metallic sting of blood flooded her mouth, not even the bitterness
of it could make her forget the way her heart seemed to be splintering apart.
“Sirius—”
“We were slipping. You couldn’t have held us for much longer. You asked me to choose him,
but in the end, it was you that I chose.”
“You need help.” She said, “You—Sirius, , please. You—” Merlin, she had no idea what she
was even begging him.
“I know, kiddo. I know.”
They crashed against one another and sobbed. She held onto him like she was holding onto
life because she knew she was. And he held her as if he was holding out against death
because he knew he was.
“They forgave me, Hermione.” He cried against her hair.
“They did.” A shudder, “They love me.”
“They do.”
And they remained in each other’s arms for a long time. The knowledge that they had died
and they had lived bitter and sweet between them. Hermione was still here because Sirius had
chosen it to be so. Sirius was not there anymore because Hermione had chosen it to be so.
When they pulled apart, maybe a second later or maybe an hour, time was still weird after a
week there, they looked at one another.
“We will see them again,” she promised him.
“When we are old and grey.” He promised her.
He did walk her to the Dungeons but towards her dad’s office.
“Yes?” Came the tired drawl from the inside.
Sirius gave her a mischievous smile, “Got something for you, Snivellus!” He called out loud.
Her dad’s door never opened so fast. One second she was standing with her own two feet on
the ground and the next she had been lifted in the air. “My God, Hermione,” he gasped
against her head, she could feel his entire body shaking.
“I love you, Dad,” she told him. Because she hadn’t had the chance before. Because she
almost lost the chance.
He shuddered and when he spoke, his voice was choked up with tears he would not let fall,
“My dear daughter, I love you.”
After he pulled her down, he asked her a multitude of questions. Was she all right? Did she
need anything? How was she feeling? Did anywhere hurt?
Shaking her head, she told him she was okay, but a glance around had her heart almost giving
away. Where was Sirius? Had he left? A crack on the floor and her legs shook, was he gone?
But then she heard a sound to her left and saw Sirius returning, a heavy sigh left her. A
second. It was all it took.
He was there. They were there. But still, Hermione felt like Death was still keeping her long
fingers loosely wrapped around them.
Sirius was watching her, he probably noticed the fear in her eyes. The split second where she
thought he hadn’t kept his promise. “I’m here,” he said. Hermione nodded.
“Hermione…” Her dad called, and she turned back at him.
“I’m okay.” She said. “I will pack my things.
They didn’t reply and she quickly left. The small walk to the common room was done with a
thundering heart. She could hear the noise from the inside, her housemates sharing the last
goodbyes, things flying around.
Some people stopped and stared at her as she passed, others went as far as to mutter traitor
under their breaths, and she didn’t bother herself with any of them.
At the dorm, the girls were almost done. Daphne smile brightly at her, “I took the liberty to
start packing your things.” She said and Hermione smiled in gratitude. “You are terribly
organised, it wasn’t very difficult.”
“Thank you Daph,” Hermione said. Tracy and Milli were looking from their corner of the
room.
“Are you all right?” Tracy asked, shyly.
“Yeah,” Hermione replied, “I’m okay.”
Tracy nodded, “I’m glad. I was worried.”
“Thanks, Tracy,”
Milli had stayed quiet, but the girl gave her a short nod with a very timid smile. They might
not be friends anymore, but they didn’t wish any harm on one another.
They still had an hour until the train, and after mentioning that she was starving, Pansy and
Daphne followed her to the Kitchens so she could get something to eat before they had to
board.
Pansy updated her on everything she had missed in the past week, from what had happened
to the Death Eaters at the Ministry - she learned about Lucius’ arrest - to Dumbledore’s end-
of-the-year speech and Umbridge’s departure from the castle.
She didn’t get to see Severus or her godfather and Sirius before she boarded and was
surprised to find that she didn’t mind that as much.
Harry had gone with the other Gryffindors and Luna, while she found herself in a
compartment with Pansy and Blaise.
“Where’s Daphne?” Hermione asked
“Off with Padma for a last smooch,” Blaise replied. “And Theo is brooding somewhere.”
Hermione made a face at that and Blaise patted her leg, “Don’t worry,” he told her, “We have
the entire summer for you to win him back. He’s just upset for now.”
Pansy sighed, “Okay, we can talk about me if it will cheer you up a bit.”
“What an absolute chore it must be for you Parkinson,” Blaise replied with a hand on his
chest, she nodded emphatically. “But I do accept your offer as I’m still baffled at what I
learned.”
A very faint blush covered Pansy’s cheeks. She looked at Hermione. “In my defence,” the
girl began, “it’s not serious.”
Blaise snorted and got comfortable next to Hermione. Pansy then reeled the events and
Hermione listened gobsmacked to it all. Blaise was in stitches, drying tears of laughter from
his eyes.
“It was for the greater good!” Pansy assured, after telling Hermione that the sole reason she
had kissed Hermione’s brother that first time after their last D.A. meeting before Christmas
was to teach the boy how to kiss.
Hermione remembered Harry blushing when Sirius asked him about their first kisses, how he
said I kissed Cho and—yeah, I kissed Cho, because he had kissed Pansy too.
And how everything else that had happened between there - good lord there had been a lot -
was because Pansy was very invested in teaching Harry the ways.
“So he basically cheated on Cho the entire time?” Hermione asked scandalised.
“They never got to actually date now, did they?” Pansy asked with a shrug. “They were going
out but I don’t remember hearing any of them ever referring to the other as boyfriend or
girlfriend. And it’s not like it’s happening again!”
“Well,” Blaise began with a shit-eating grin that Hermione just knew was aimed at her, “You
agreed on a date with Draco moments before agreeing on a date with Krum.”
“I never kissed Viktor!” Hermione retorted. At exactly that moment, Draco was passing by.
He raised an eyebrow at her.
“I would be extremely upset if you had.” He said as a greeting and their friends sniggered.
“Could the two of you find another compartment for the next hour?”
Pansy made a disgusted face, “I’m not coming back here after the two of you are done.” She
replied and got up.
“I will find my brooding boyfriend then.” Blaise agreed and left with Pansy.
Draco got in and cast the usual spells to make sure they had their privacy.
He sat down next to her and immediately pulled her to his lap. “How are you?” He asked her,
“You’ve been asked this countless times today, but what about trying to go for the truth this
time?”
She didn’t reply, just leaned against him, resting her forehead against his shoulder. His arms
were around her and his hands were tracing patterns on her back.
“Okay,” he said. “I will start. I am dreading returning home. I wish Uncle Sev could take me
away as he did with Theo.” His voice was low with the confession. Her eyes were stinging
with tears but she forced herself not to cry. Hermione snuck her arms around his waist and
just lay there, hearing the low rumble of his voice from her head on his chest. “But at the
same time, I know that I could never leave. Not if it meant leaving Mother behind and if she
did come along, then both of us would be sentencing Father. And there are no realities in
which that is possible.”
“I'm sorry that he couldn’t get away,” Hermione told him, remembering how he tried to help
her get away and how in the end he saved her from Dolohov’s spell.
“I believe that Azkaban is the lesser punishment for his failure,” he told her. “The Dark Lord
is not understanding.”
She looked up at him, at his eyes that she loved so much, at the perfect bow of his nose and
the fine bones in his cheek and jawline, he was so absurdly beautiful. Ethereal, even in
sadness.
“I don’t think it’s fair that I’m not okay,” she confessed, “that I’m sad.” Hermione sighed.
“Everyone survived, and no one got too hurt, I have everyone that I love with me, but I just
—” Her voice cracked, “I'm scared. Scared of the way things are going to change now more
than ever, that more and more will be expected from not only Harry but everyone else I
love.” She thought of Sirius and how she was afraid he would change his mind, that he’d do
something reckless and irresponsible that would make him leave before his promise.
“Do you know what you taught me?” He asked her and she shook her head, “That we are not
alone, that we don’t have to feel and carry things on our own.” Draco told her, “It is scary and
perhaps now we have reached the point of no return but we have one another, and we keep
choosing one another.”
Hermione nodded and pulled his hand from her back to hold it between them. She noticed the
ring on his finger, a different one.
“With Father gone, I’m Lord of the Manor now,” He told her, noticing her looking at it, “The
new ring came a couple of days ago,” he explained, “The Manor needs its Lord.”
It was a very nice one. It looked more important, and the magic on it felt stronger. The silver
band was still cold to the touch, and the M was carved in a green garnet but set in a rotating
bezel where it could be worn facing the bearer or not. Hermione played with it, running her
thumb over it, she felt her cheeks heating up and from the low chuckle he gave, she knew he
could see it.
“I gather you won’t miss the old one, then?” He asked in a low voice, provocative and
amused.
“No, I won’t,” she replied in the same tone and leaned in, catching his lips in hers.
They kissed hungrily, Draco making a point to flip the new signet ring on his finger and run it
through her back and arms. She shivered when he touched her belly with it, arching her chest
as he ran the ring up to the middle of her breasts, “Draco,” she moaned as she grabbed his
hair.
“I wish I could keep this sound sempiternal.” He murmured against her neck and the sound of
his voice had her pressing down against him. He groaned and she could feel him through his
trousers. “Granger,” he called in warning, but his hands were now guiding her movements.
“Just—” she moaned again, feeling his fingers unbuttoning her jeans and the new signet ring
on her, “make me feel good, please.”
He smirked, the bastard, “Don't I ever, Granger?”
Between his expert ministrations and the presence of his new ‘Lord of the Malfoy Manor’
ring, Draco made her come astonishingly fast which inflated his already inflated ego to a
notch, but it turned out perfectly fine with her because he then did it again while she took him
in her hand and she could only feel spent when they were both done.
They sat like that for a few moments, private parts tucked away and their messes Scourgified,
their matching heavy breathing slowly giving way to sighs of contentment.
“I won’t be able to write this summer,” he told her she he was getting ready to leave.
Hermione hated how every moment with him now was stolen, hidden.
“It's okay.” She replied, but both knew it was a lie.
“I will miss you like a limb.”

“And I like air.”
He kissed her one more time before leaving and Hermione leaned back against the window,
feeling suddenly dejected.
She could have gone find the others, as they still had a few hours left in the journey, but they
were rare moments when she could be by herself enjoying a quiet time alone. Hermione
picked up a book from her bag and began to read.
That was how Daphne found her a couple of hours later.
“Hey,” Daph greeted from the door. Hermione noticed that Padma was a little behind her.
“Hi, Daph, Padma,” Hermione replied and the Ravenclaw gave her a small smile.
“Do you mind?” Daphne asked, pointing at the seat across from her.
“Not at all.” Daphne gave Padma a quick peck in goodbye and Hermione hastily added, “Oh,
she can stay too, I thought—”
“Oh no,” Padma replied, “I was already going to find Parvati. See you around.”
Daphne entered the compartment and sat down in front of Hermione. The blonde sniffed
around and made a face, “Do you know this is the third suspicious smelly compartment that I
enter today?”
Hermione felt her cheeks reddening, “oh, shut up.” She replied, “I'm pretty sure your and
Padma’s was one of those."
The girl winked and replied, “I said entered not left.”
Hermione giggled and shook her head. “The boys and—ugh, please don’t say it.”
Daphne laughed, “Well, she was alone when I found her, but looking quite guilty and
dishevelled. You and I both know who can disappear like that.”
Hermione groaned, “So much for not happening again.”
“They are just having fun. Harry is a boy too, you know?” Daphne asked and Hermione
nodded, “Not only the Boy-Who-Lived. I say let him experience the avalanche that is Pansy
Parkinson, maybe get his heart broken and stomped on. Builds up character.” Hermione
snorted. “And besides, he’s filling up the shoes of your brother pretty well, going for the ‘My
Sister’s Best Friend’ thing.
“I thought it was BFB, Best Friend’s Brother,” Hermione replied.
“Well, that’s Pansy for sure.” Daphne shrugged and cast another cleaning spell on the seat
before changing places. “But I didn’t want to discuss them. I want to talk about you. Since
you left the Hospital Wing in the morning, you are looking quite down."
“I'm okay Daph, just taking it all in.”
Daphne looked like she didn’t believe her, but the thing about Daphne was that she would
never push. “The thing is Hermione, I don’t think you ever learned how to not be okay.”
Hermione bristled at the remark but didn’t reply. “You’ve been going through traumatic
events year after year and you always bounce back as if they were nothing,”
“Harry has—”
“—It worse, yeah. Most definitely. But it doesn’t mean you are not affected by them as well.
Your very first year and what happened? You fought a mountain troll, the devil’s snare, a
murderous chess game and Professor Snape’s poisonous riddle. Potter only got as far as he
did because you got him there. He was the one to fight You-Know-Who in the end, yes, but it
doesn’t mean your risks weren’t valid.”
“I—”
“No. I’m not done yet.” Daphne cut her off, “Second year! The cat thing—”
“That was my mistake—”
“And the attacks on muggle-born students. You thought you were one, we all did, there was
the stress and fear of being attacked and then you were attacked.”
“Yeah, but Ginny Weasley was taken to Chamber and—”
“She probably has her issues with that as well, but she’s not my best friend. I’m worried
about you.”
“I’m fi—”
“Okay, third year. Since still you are not ready to admit it. You were in danger with the
werewolf, you fought with dementors. And just last year! Drowned. Harassed the entire year
because of a measly journalist. Merlin, Hermione. You have never caught a break.” Daphne
said, “Umbridge, the O.W.L.s., the D.A., all of your side-projects that you take on as well…
You fought with twelve Death Eaters, the worst of them and you came up on the other side.”
“Okay,” Hermione relented, “It’s… Not easy, but it’s also not as you are making it out to be.”
“I would trade it with you, you know?” Daphne told her, surprising Hermione.
“What?”
“I would be so glad to take it off your shoulders. Something. Anything. I would switch places
with you in an instant, just to give you a moment of respite.”
And it knocked the air out of her chest. Because… it had been hard, hadn’t it? And Daphne
had only mentioned the physical hardships she’d been through, the emotional ones… Merlin,
those were even more overwhelming.
“Daph…”
“That’s why he’s upset. Theo, that is. Because he’d do it too, in a blink. And when you
needed it, you took the chance from him.”
“I didn’t want him to be in danger.”
“I know. He knows it too. But still. It should have been his choice.” Daphne told her and
Hermione knew that. She knew it when she paralysed Draco and knew it when Blaise pointed
his wand. She just didn’t want to give them the choice. “But Hermione, since we can’t switch
places short for we polyjuicing into one another, why don’t you try to not be the Missing
Sister, at least for the summer?"
“How?” Hermione asked.
“You are going to Muggle London, right?”
“For a couple of weeks, yes. And then to Remus with Theo and probably Harry.”
“So there. Put your trunk away, and ignore the existence of the magical world. Be muggle.
Forget that you are Harry’s sister, our Potions Professor’s daughter and the one who saved
Sirius Black’s life.” Hermione blanched at the last part. Daphne didn’t know just how true
that was, that Hermione not only saved Sirius’ life but dragged him back. He hadn’t kicked
and screamed, but the feeling between them was one as if he had. “Do whatever muggles do
during their summer holidays, take the time to just… be you.”
“But all of this is me.” Hermione retorted.
“So be selfish.” Daphne shrugged. “Be the only person you are concerned with.”
Hermione did take Daphne’s advice.
Her parents had picked her up at King Cross and from that moment on she put away all of her
worries. She made conversation with her parents and told them what she expected to get for
her O.W.Ls and even about the group she had created, and how she had helped so many
students get better at practical spells.
It was easy to pretend she wasn’t everything that made Hermione Granger, the Missing Sister,
when she was with her mum and dad, because the less they heard about Harry - her brother -,
the easier it was to navigate with them.
She did put her trunk away, not even bothering to open it to take things out. And because her
parents were making an effort, she was even more determined to put her mind at rest.
Her father spent hours telling her about the singer who won Eurovision, an Irish woman who
according to him was a ‘fairy herself’ and could probably make magic with her voice only.
Hermione’s mum rolled her eyes a dozen times while she listened to him, “He can’t hear a
good folklore song from a pretty woman without being mesmerised by it.” She had
complained.
“I sure well am!” He replied, “Compared to that noisy thing we had for an entry that’s
playing everywhere all the bloody time? They don’t make music as we did back in the day,
no, now everything feels…” He had trailed off as the song he had been currently complaining
about began playing on the neighbour’s radio. After letting out a string of words, he had gone
to the kitchen.
The early July weather wasn’t as hot as it had been the previous summer, with the unbearable
heat waves, it was cool and Hermione was spending most of her afternoons in the park with a
book or in the public library, reading and trying to do that year's GCSE exam for fun.
Hermione ended up making a friend, David, a few streets down from her and a year younger.
He too was very focused on his studies as they had struck up a conversation because both
were doing mock exams right after the official one had passed.
It was nice, coming up with stories about her life, inventing a boarding school up in Scotland
and telling him about Potions as if it was Chemistry or Arithmancy as if it were Maths. She
was of course, undoubtedly behind regarding what David was learning in muggle school, but
she had caught up enough to at least know what she was supposed to have learned.
The days quickly blended together and her last week with her parents was almost at its end.
Remus would come to pick her up in the morning of the next day and that anxious feeling she
had was starting to return.
Where had Harry spent the summer? Did he go to his aunt and uncle? Or they managed to
keep him away? Had he stayed at Grimmauld, the Burrow or with Remus? And Sirius? Was
he seeing someone already? And the Malfoys? Lucius was in Azkaban, how were Narcissa
and Draco fairing?
Hermione glared at her trunk as if it had personally victimised her. She had yet to unpack it.
Her mum and dad were going to Spain for a week in July, they would be leaving two days
after Remus picked her up. More than once she considered writing him to pick her up the day
her parents were to leave. And once she went as far as mentioning it to her father.
“What is it?” His father asked her. She looked up to find him standing in the doorway.
“Nothing,” she replied and decided that unpacking it now was the best way to avoid this
particular conversation.
“Hermione,” her father said with a small chuckle. He entered her bedroom and sat down on
the bed next to where she was now kneeling over the trunk. “We used to beg you to stay. Just
another week, another day, but you were always excited and dying to get back to them. Don’t
be mistaken, we are not complaining here, this is the longest we had you here for quite a
while, but it worries us that it’s because you are hiding from them.”
“I'm not hiding.”

“Avoiding, then.”
Hermione sighed, “I’m not, it’s—Daphne, my friend, she said I overwork and worry too
much about things and with the exams this year, I might have gone over the top a little,”
Hermione said, practised with telling the truth between lies since meeting David. “She
suggested that I relaxed and put it all in the back of my mind, to recharge. I guess I feel like I
didn’t recharge enough.” Hermione shrugged, “Once I’m there, there won’t be any avoiding
it.”
“Your results will come out either you are here or there, those birds always seem to find you
anyway.”
Hermione smiled at her father, “There’s magic in the name. They follow it to the source.” She
explained briefly. It had fascinated her when she was younger that owls always seemed to
find them.
Her father sighed and gave her a very clear look he hadn’t bought her excuse. “Love, that’s
magic in your name too,” her father told her, “it will always follow you. If you really want to
stay, of course, you can, but if it’s something else…”
“Not with me,” she told him, finally, almost scared to confess. “I—” A shiver passed through
her, “I saved someone’s life,” Hermione said and watched her father’s eyes grow wide. “I
wasn’t in danger,” she quickly added, quickly lied, “it was a—He tried to—” Why couldn’t
she say it?
But she hadn’t needed to, for the expression on her father’s face changed into comprehension.
“I understand.” He said and grabbed her hand, “And now you are afraid of seeing this
person?”
Hermione nodded. “I'm afraid that if I see them—” and then she broke down. The tears that
were threatening, taunting her all these days. They spilt over in earnest like a dam had
broken, with a strength that only came from escaping constant pressure.
“Oh, my Love.” Her father said, sighing heavily and reaching over, catching the flood from
her eyes and soothing her.
“I’m—He promised he won’t do it again, but I’m afraid. Terrified that he will and then—”
“You are scared that you might not be fast enough if he tries again.” Not exactly fast, but
strong enough.
She nodded, “Does it make me a terrible person that I’d rather be away if it happens than be
there?”
“No Hermione, it just makes you human.” He replied, “I know it’s hard, but you have to
believe in him. He promised you that he wouldn’t do it again, and you have to give him the
trust.”
“I will keep looking—”

“You will. And probably for a long time. But if you stay away, it will take you even longer
for him to prove to you that you can trust his promise. You have to be there, not because you
can save him again then, but because you can see him keep his promise.” Her father told her.
“You now carry his lowest moment, don’t hide from him. Make sure that he sees you.”
Hermione nodded and she climbed back on the bed to hug him properly. They sat on the bed
for a few moments as her quiet sobs gave way to long breaths. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“Any time.”
It was easier then, to unpack and pack her things. Her father helped her take the books she
wouldn’t need, and whatever piece of clothing didn’t fit her anymore. She probably needed to
buy a new pair of shoes, hers were getting too ratty and there were even blood stains in one
of them. She didn’t know if it was from Umbridge’s quill or the skirmish at the Ministry.
When Remus came the next day, he wasn’t invited in and her mother refused to even see him
altogether. She hugged her mother goodbye and was so glad to hear the customary ‘Love you
my darling’ again.
She shed a tear hugging her father and he quickly dried it, “Write us, okay? Whenever you
need.”
Hermione nodded and picked up her things. Remus was waiting for her on the sidewalk and
she walked up to him with a smile.
“Hey, pup, how’ve you been?”
“I'm all right.” She replied.
He nodded, and just kissed the top of her head in acknowledgement. “Do you mind taking a
small walk with me before we head home?”
“No.”
He grabbed the truck from her, Hermione who had missed her cat in these two weeks was
now glad that she had decided to leave Crookshanks with Theo because at least she had the
excitement of seeing her familiar again once she arrived.
Remus looked around them to make sure no one was watching before he cast a shrinking
charm in her trunk and pocketed it. They walked in silence and without noticing, she was the
one guiding them around.
Hermione led them to a park, it was not completely empty as it was late morning and the
mothers and their kids were enjoying the nice weather before the temperature rose a bit. The
swings were empty and Hermione and Remus walked towards them, sitting side by side on
each swig.
She swung lazily, dragging her feet in the sand, not moving much. Remus just held the chains
on each side and looked ahead of him. “He told me what happened.”
Hermione pushed her swing then.
“He told me what you saw and heard through him. He told me, Hermione.”
She nodded in response.
“He’s seeing a Mind Healer, a psychologist. She’s a muggle-born witch, who graduated a few
years ahead of us. Neither of us actually remembers her, which I think is good. She mostly
left the wizarding world after Hogwarts, there were fewer opportunities for muggle-borns
then than there are now, so it doesn’t surprise me really. But she studied the arts of the mind
and got a doctorate in Clinical Psychology. Sirius is seeing her twice a week.”
Hermione nodded again.
“Say something, pup.” He asked her, and she finally looked up finding that he had been
looking at her.
“I don’t know what to say.” She replied, “I didn’t just see and hear through him. I felt too.
His pain was my pain and—it was a lot of it.”
It was his turn to nod. He let go of one of the chains and reached for her hand. He squeezed
it. Hermione could feel her heart shattering inside her chest, she could only imagine how
Remus himself felt. Did he cry when Sirius told him? Did he ask him why would he want to
go? To leave them behind? At every new small swing, Hermione could feel each painful
shard dragging through her body as if the movement was jostling them, making them scrap
against her lungs.
“Do you know when we go from a brightly illuminated room to a lesser one and everything
feels dark for a moment?” He asked her suddenly. “How do we need a moment for our eyes
to adjust before we can see everything properly again?” Hermione nodded and Remus carried
on, “Think of that moment, that brief period before your eyes adjust. A small panic settles, a
fear of never seeing again. But we do see because inevitably, our eyes will adjust. But with
Sirius…” his voice was distant, coming from a far away conversation. “It’s like he’s wearing
sunglasses all the time. He doesn’t need to squint when he’s outside, because the light never
quite blinds him, and then when he comes inside… There’s no light at all and the sunglasses
don’t come off, his eyes don’t adjust, and he’s perpetually seeing everything with dark-tinted
eyes.”
“Why don’t they come off?” She asked and never before had she felt so truly young.
Hermione could understand Arithmancy, and Ancient Runes and follow every step in a
complicated Potion, but she felt like grasping at straws to understand the staggering amount
of sadness and pain she felt while she had been in Sirius’ mind. Hermione knew the loss of
his brother, the loss of James and Lily and the years in Azkaban had made an impact on him,
but she naively hoped that what he got from them had healed him. Sirius had chosen them
that day in Remus’ living room, hadn’t he? He let go of his anger for them, why couldn’t he
let go of his sadness for them as well? “He has you.” She said brokenly.
Remus squeezed her hand one more time. “You are right, he has me, he has us and he loves
us, with everything he has, but everything he has is blurry and hazy. And Hermione, Sirius
really wants to see. He misses the sun so much, the brightness of it, the way it warmed our
skin. The way it kept him alive.”
“Why can’t you be the sun?”
“Because I’m already the moon.”
“What about Harry and I?”
“You two are very shiny, but Hermione, the problem is not only that he misses the sun, but
it’s also that he forgot he is the brightest star in the sky.”
“What do we do then?”
“I will keep rising, and you and Harry will keep shining. And he will see that the sun still
rises every day, no matter how dark was the night before.”
“Do you promise?”
“Yes, pup. I promise.” He told her and got to his feet. “Come, let’s go home. Crookshanks
has scratched Theo a lot. The others will be arriving today as well.”
“The others?”
“Harry and Blaise. Sirius is getting him from the Burrow as we speak. And Nneka Zabini is
dropping off Blaise.”
“Okay,” she said, “let's go home.”
Chapter End Notes
Our girl is loaded with emotions and everyone is going through things. A lot of them.
On a very personal note, I went through what Hermione is going through a couple of
years ago (without the magic of course) and her conversations with both her father and
Remus are actual conversations that I had after finding myself dealing with it, so the
entire thing is very delicate to me and I hope I did an okay job trying to put this down
and how she might be feeling, so I just ask you all to be mindful of it in your comments.
ANYWAYS in a happier note, you now can find what our girl Pansy Parkinson had been
up to during the school year! I posted this as part of Pansyfest so it's basically PWP
because the plot is here lmao I will be adding the fic here later as a part of a series.
Let me know what you think!! As always, you can find me on twitter or instagram is
moonyhoax
find a way to begin again
Chapter Notes
Hi! I'd like to thank you for the 225k hits, it's still unbelievable to me to see so many
people saying such nice things about this story, I really appreciate it all! Well, especially
because it also hit 500k words last chapter so thank you so much for sticking around and
I hope I'm not making anyone bored with it lmao
I really truly appreciate the kind comments the last chapter received, so again thank
you<3
I hope you enjoy this one as well, it's lighter than the last one and a little bit of a filler
but with some development as well
there's always time to get back on track

tearing down the walls, slowly
every step
Chapter Sixty
Hermione and Remus crossed the door just as the Zabinis were coming out of the Floo.
Both of them were looking quite ashen and there were twigs and dirt on the hem of their
robes.
“What happened?” Remus asked quickly alert. “Are you all right?”
“A giant!” Mrs Zabini screeched, “That's what happened! A giant in Somerset!"
Theo’s eyes widened and he went over to check on Blaise. He had been halfway to hugging
her in greeting but turned around at the mention of the giants. “You are not hurt, are you?”
“No.” Blaise shook his head.
“Merlin knows the state of our house now.” Mrs Zabini said and nodded in thanks as Remus
gave her a glass of water. “We were set to leave when we heard the screaming and went out
to see what the ruckus was about,” she told them, “imagine my surprise to find that a group
of Death Eaters was simply firing around Wedmore, followed by a giant!”
“What were Death Eaters doing there?” Remus asked, “Do you think they were after you?”
She scowled, “Of course they were.” Mrs Zabini shook her head in exasperation. “We are the
only Wixen registered there. But I happen to know what they are after.” She said with yet
another scowl, “It’s no secret that they are recruiting Dark creatures left and right. They have
the Dementors, the Giants, the Werewolves… But not the Lethifolds.” Remus gasped. “Yes.
And Castelobruxo happens to be in charge of keeping track of them.” She added, “We are
often dispatching teams to the places where there have been strange disappearances in the
middle of the night. I had a strange English chap visiting me during the semester asking all
sorts of wrong questions about them. Where could one find them? How could one capture
and move them? I knew at once he wanted to get his hands on them to bring here across the
pond.”
“But is it possible?” Remus asked, “They are XXXXX creatures, surviving an attack is rare
as it is, I can’t imagine how one would fair capturing them.”
“It is extremely difficult, yes, but it is done. And that man knew Castelobruxo is the only one
which the knowledge of how to do so.” Mrs Zabini replied, “But if they planned on getting
me they shouldn’t have brought along a giant, alerting the entire county of their presence
before they could even find where we live.”
“The thing tore off roofs, uprooted entire trees with its hands, bent lampposts!” Blaise told
them, still in shock. Hermione and Theo were sitting on each side of him.
“There was a stampede as well,” Mrs Zabini added, “The Death Eaters were firing inside
homes, forcing people to leave their homes and run onto the streets. We managed to put down
the fire in a few houses and move some muggles out of the way, the Statute be damned, but
we rushed inside and into the Floo before any of them could spot us. I’m certain we will see
the entire thing on the Prophet tomorrow. Merlin knows how the Muggles are going to spin
this.”
“Hurricane,” Remus said with a sigh. He had sat down on the armchair facing Mrs Zabini,
“that's how they usually write giant attacks.”
Mrs Zabini scoffed. “A hurricane in the UK. Merlin, sometimes I wonder how stupid the
Ministry of Magic believe Muggles to be.” She sighed and got to her feet, “I must be going.
It was at least fortunate that this happened today when we were already leaving. I must warn
Castelobruxo and the Ministries of Magic in Central and South America. We may have to be
alert for more attempts like this one.”
She turned to Blaise, who got to his feet. “Be careful, Mother.”
“I always am.” She replied with a hand to his cheek. “You have to be extra careful this year. I
don’t want them getting their hands on you just to bend me.”
“I will.” He told her.
“We will keep an eye on him,” Remus said with a firm nod. “He will be safe here with us
until they return to Hogwarts.”
She nodded, “I know. It’s the only reason my heart is not as heavy by leaving him here.”
Mrs Zabini kissed his son’s cheeks twice and did the same to Theo. She smiled at Hermione
warmly and Hermione wondered if Blaise had told his mother of the accusations Hermione
had thrown at the woman. If she did, she didn’t show. Hermione was rather embarrassed
anyway.
After she left, Theo sighed and threw his body dramatically on the sofa. “First the bridge,
now this?”
“What bridge?” Hermione asked.
Theo furrowed his brows, “You didn’t see? The Brockdale Bridge. Death Eaters snapped it in
half. A bunch of cars and people fell into the Thames.”
“That was them?” Hermione asked surprised. “I heard a couple talking about it two days ago,
but I didn’t see it on the news.”
“Yes,” Remus replied. “Now that the Wizarding World is aware of Voldemort’s return, they
are not being careful anymore.”
“Has there been anything else?” Hermione asked.
Remus’ expression grew grim and he nodded. “Two murders. And a poorly done attempt at
an Imperius Curse on one of the Prime Minister’s men.”
“Who died?” Hermione asked. She regretted now having cancelled her subscription to the
Daily Prophet.
“Emmeline Vance. She was a year older than me at school. And Amelia Bones. I believe you
know her niece.”
She nodded, “Poor Susan,” Hermione said. “She was a member of the D.A. last year with
us.”
“It doesn’t surprise me.” Remus replied, “Her aunt was quite loud in her anti-Voldemort
speech. People say he went to kill her himself.”
It was undoubtedly, a sour arrival. The mood persisted until early evening when Sirius
returned with Harry.
The three of them were in Theo’s bedroom when they heard the Floo.
“Moony, you won’t believe what that Knocking On Hell’s Door of a Headmaster had the gall
to do!” Sirius boomed and the three teenagers made a face at one another.
Clearly, there would be no improvement today.
Before they could even begin to move to see what Sirius had to say, Harry appeared in the
doorway with his trunk in toll. “Hey,” he greeted.
“What happened now?” Theo asked, waving Harry in.

“Dumbledore took me with him to convince some guy in getting out of retirement and teach
at Hogwarts this year.”
“Why did he need you?” Blaise asked.
Harry smirked, “I'm the Chosen One.” They all groaned, “No, but seriously. Dumbledore said
something about how this dude liked collecting students who he thought had potential or
something like that. Dumbledore said I was everything that Slughorn ever coveted.”
“Slughorn?” Theo asked, “I didn’t know he taught Defence as well.” He said. “He was the
Potions professor during Adeodatus’ time.”
“You mean during Voldemort’s time,” Hermione added. Theo nodded. “Well, obviously he
has a reason why he wants him back.”
“You should have seen his place, he trashed everything, made it seem like his house had been
broken in and there had been a fight. He even transfigured himself into an armchair. He was
clearly hiding from the Death Eaters.”
Blaise snorted, he was in the middle of taking his things from his trunk and putting them next
to Theo’s in the chest of drawers and hadn’t bothered turning to look at them before he spoke,
“And we continue getting psychos to teach us. I mean, one would think that with a war going
on, they’d get us a decent Defence professor, right?”
“He also seemed a bit of a snob too,” Harry added. “Jesus, Blaise why did you bring so many
pairs of pants?”
Hermione snorted. Blaise froze mid-sorting with a handful of briefs in hand. “It’s summer.”
He replied.
“And? Your dick sweats?” Harry retorted. Theo sniggered. Hermione groaned. Boys.
Blaise was smirking and he threw a lascivious wink at Theo, “Something like that, yeah.”
“And what, pray tell, do the two of you think that you are doing?” Remus asked from the
doorway and the four of them jumped in surprise. None of them had heard him approach.
Despite the seriousness in his tone, there was amusement in his expression.
“Moving my stuff?” Blaise asked, honestly confused.
“You two are not sharing a room for two months,” Remus replied and Hermione watched as
the two boys exchanged dismayed looks. Remus caught it and continued, “Nope, definitely
not. No chance.”
Sirius, who had just appeared behind Remus, laughed, “Come on Moony, they are boys, they
are young, let them be.” Her heart raced just a bit at the sight of him. The easy smile he kept
on his face did ease the knot in her chest a bit.
“Yes, Moony. Let us be.” Blaise replied. Harry giggled next to her.
“Padfoot, Theo shares the wall with us, the last thing I want is to hear our shagging matching
theirs!”
“OH MY GOD, REMUS!” There was a conjoined complaint about that comment from
everyone and Remus only smirked in satisfaction.
Merlin, they were all awful.
“Fine,” Theo muttered, his ears and cheeks a strong red. “But he’s not rooming with
Hermione either.”
“You are not leaving me with Potter!” Blaise retorted, quite undignified.
“Oi! Fuck off, will you?” Harry said and he didn’t seem offended by the Slytherin boy’s
comment.
Theo began moving, but Blaise spluttered and began a series of no, no, no and quickly ran
through the door, past the two adults and to the next room. “I’m not leaving here!” He yelled
from there and Hermione chuckled. His voice came from Harry's room.
Realising that, Harry jumped on the bed next to Theo, and raised an eyebrow at the boy, “It’s
you and I, Teddy Bear.”
“Don’t call me that, Heathcliff.”
And there they went. Hermione exchanged an amused glance with Remus and Sirius.
“I told you not to call me that.” Harry hissed and threw a pair of briefs at Theo’s face.
Hermione hoped that they were clean.
Theo held up his fingers, “Brooding, ostracised, arrogant…”
“You forgot intelligent,” Sirius supplied. Harry threw a betrayed look at his godfather.
“What? It’s a compliment!”
“Nah, it isn’t and no I didn’t,” Theo said.
“He’s really awful stop comparing us,” Harry said and Hermione knew what was coming just
by the look on Theo’s face.
“Oh Harry, you’ve just left it too easy.” She said with a grin.
“Yes, my darling,” Theo smirked, “because there’s nothing about Heathcliff’s all-consuming
rage, jealousy and anger that destroy both him and those around him that speaks to you,
Harry.”
Remus snorted, “All right, we are cutting down Tragical Tuesdays this summer.” He
announced and Hermione whined.
“I change my mind, I don’t want Theo. I’m rooming with Blaise.” Harry announced.
“I don’t want you!” Came Blaise’s yell from the other room. Harry ignored it and picked up
the tossed underwear as he went.
Theo and Hermione looked at one another with matching grins on their faces and looked at
Remus and Sirius who were quite amused by the whole thing.
“Don’t cut Tragical Tuesdays! I brought The Count of Monte Cristo for us to read!”
Hermione said to Remus. Harry was heard groaning in despair.
“That sounds promising.” Theo pointed out.
“I was thinking we could start with Hamlet?” Remus suggested.
Hermione huffed. “Fine.”
Sirius chuckled, “Merlin raising four kids is so goddamn tiring.”
“I still have a mum, you know!” Blaise again, yelled from his room.
“YOU WILL NOT DISRESPECT YOUR NINTH FATHER FIGURE YOUNG MAN!”
Sirius called and they all exploded in laughter.
“It’s actually tenth now—” Blaise said between his wheezing.
“Oh no,” Hermione and Theo echoed.
“—Because mum is dating Hermione’s dad now.“
Sirius looked horrified. Truly, honestly to God horrified. Remus was biting down on his lip to
refrain from laughing.
“ARE YOU TELLING ME THAT I’M CO-PARENTING YET ANOTHER KID WITH
SEVERUS FUCKING SNAPE?” Sirius wailed and it was too much, truly. Theo was in
stitches next to her, Remus was drying his tears and Hermione was laughing so damn hard
that her cheeks and belly were hurting.
“Oh Merlin, stop!” She said.
But Sirius had lost it, “why does he keep getting the same strays? Get his own! Not literally
his own, Merlin forbids we have little Snapes around—”
“Hey!” She called.
“—but it’s too much Moony, honestly, Harry I understand, it makes sense, but Theo is ours
you know?” Hermione looked at Theo at that and his expression was the loveliest thing she
had ever seen. “And it only makes sense that Blaise is ours too because is the boy our boy
brought home so Snape gets no say in this, there’s literally no reason!”
“Sirius,” Remus snorted, “are you even listening to yourself?”

Theo had. Harry too, because he had just returned to the hallway and looked at Theo with
wide, shocked green eyes. “I don’t want to be your brother.”
“Look at me, Potter! Do I look like I want to be yours? I’m too handsome to be your
brother!”
“Hey!” Hermione called, again.
“Look Moony, they are true brothers, fighting just like me and Reggie.”
“Sirius, please—Merlin this conversation is insanity. You all are making me go mad.”
Sirius, the little shit he was, turned his big, brilliant eyes to Remus and in the most tragic
voice said, “You don’t want to build a family with me?”
Remus staggered, God he was weak. Theo was shaking his head, he too seemed to be
thinking the same.
“Oh Padfoot, of course, I do, of course, but you can’t kidnap kids into adoption you have to
ask first.”
“I’m down, though,” Theo said easily.
“Yeah me too,” Harry added.
Hermione snorted. God, they truly were the worst.
Remus shook his head in exasperation, Sirius was chuckling. “Half an hour, it’s been half an
hour.” He muttered under his breath as he left the room.
She caught the look between the boys then, and she saw it: they meant it. Merlin, both Theo
and Harry meant it.
Harry quickly followed Sirius and Remus out and just as quickly he hid the expression on his
face that showed just how much he’d like that.
Hermione was left staring at Theo.
He sat down on the bed.
“You mean it.” She said.
Theo nodded. “This is everything to me, Hermione.” He told her in a very small voice.
“Monday Madness, Tragical Tuesdays, Weird Wednesdays, Thurifers Thursdays—”
“That’s not a thing,”
“Yes, it is Sirius will begin teaching us how to make magical fireworks.”
Hermione blinked. “Merlin,”

“Anyway, what I mean is that I want all of the days.”
“Even Sobbing Sundays?”
“Specially Sobbing Sundays! I want to know that I can write home to people whom I know
will be eager to know everything about my day, or that I can come home, slip off my shoes by
the door without having them being thrown at the back of my head, that the bruises on my
body are because Remus was teaching me how to ride a bike or Sirius decided that we should
learn how to sword fight. I want them. Merlin, I want you.”
“You have me, Theo.” She replied, her voice choked up with relief. He had come around.
And she was jumping on him, almost strangling him with her arms around his neck as they
both fell backwards on the mattress. She kept hugging him and she felt him hugging her
back, squeezing her middle.
The mood could improve, after all.
Severus was having a terrible summer. Spinner’s End was already gloomy on a good day, but
now with the Dementors having deserted Azkaban and fucking breeding all around the UK,
causing a chilly mist in the middle of July, he wondered if had escaped arrest after all.
And to make matters worse, Voldemort had fucking given him Peter Pettigrew to babysit.
Honestly. Each day the rat lived another day under Severus’ roof was a miracle. Just the sight
of Pettigrew made him murderous and borderline sadistic.
But of course, that hadn’t been enough. No. The summer of all summers had more to give.
First, Dumbledore told him about the Horcruxes, Severus faked surprise and asked all the
right questions. Moments later, Dumbledore confessed that he was dying. His hand had been
cursed during his attempt on destroying yet another Horcrux. The Gaunt Ring. That was one
Severus and the others had no idea about.
Dumbledore believed that at least four existed: the diary, the ring, Harry and the snake. Two
were destroyed. Severus remained very quiet about his own findings and the one Remus and
Sirius had destroyed.
And because Dumbledore was always full of surprises, after telling Severus that Harry had to
die - he got rightly enraged at that and then falsely pacified by Albus -, that Dumbledore
himself was dying - upon inspection of the blackened hand, Severus told the old man he
wouldn’t see the next summer -, he also took Severus’ job from him.
Horace Slughorn would be returning to teach Potions and Severus would assume the Defence
class. The one with the curse. Severus wanted to retire.
But July wasn’t even nearly done with its torment. He felt the godparent bond burn. It cut
through him and the fear coming from Draco was so extreme that Severus nearly instantly
Apparated to the boy. There was no surprise when a day later Severus was called by
Voldemort to learn about the decision to mark Draco.
There was no honour in that invitation. Voldemort desired to punish Lucius’ failure. After all,
with the Dementors gone, there was no other reason why the Death Eaters were still there
other than because Voldemort wanted them to suffer.
Voldemort wanted Lucius to pay. And the price was the boy’s life. Voldemort didn’t expect
Draco to succeed. And Severus well, at least he was glad Dumbledore was already dying.
He wasn’t surprised when Narcissa appeared on his doorstep. He wassurprised Bellatrix had
come along. The pictures on his mantle were long gone since he had Pettigrew as a not-
willing guest. Hermione’s room to was heavily warded and under disillusionment charms, so
at least that wasn’t included in Bellatrix’s long list of reasons why she didn’t trust him.
For once, Bellatrix was right.
Narcissa’s request was simple and he wished Bellatrix hadn’t been with them, because he had
wanted to give her more. To console the woman and promise her that no harm would come to
Draco, that she could trust him with the boy just as Severus could trust her with Hermione.
The Vow was merely an act to appease the eldest Black sister. The moment Voldemort told
him that Draco’s mission was to kill Dumbledore, Severus knew he would be the one to do it.
Draco wouldn’t have a murder on his wand. Severus refused to let it happen.
He waited a few more days before going to Remus’ place, making sure that his leave didn’t
raise suspicion with the rat.
Oh, but what a reprieve it was to arrive there and be met with loud laughter, his daughter’s
shriek and Harry’s excited shouts.
Remus’ household felt like a beacon that the war hadn’t touched, despite knowing better. He
found the wolf on the side porch, leaning against the railing, watching the scene in front of
him with contentment written on his ragged face.
“Since when do you have a pool?” Severus asked as a greeting. He knew the wolf had
noticed his arrival the moment he Apparated.
“Since I sent Sirius, Theo and Harry down to the village to buy the week’s groceries.” He
replied. “Apparently someone was selling their plastic pool.”
Severus joined him at the railing. They watched in silence as Hermione was riding piggy-
back on Theodore’s shoulders and Harry was on Sirius’. “Are they truly playing chicken
fight?”
“For the past hour,” Remus replied. “Hermione and Theo are winning, no one has managed to
throw her off.”
“Why haven’t you joined them?”
Remus snorted. “The last moon,” he replied and tapped his shoulder. “The wolf dislocated
my arm, it’s quite sore still. That’s why I sent them yesterday, only managed to leave the bed
this morning.”
“Do you need anything?”
“No.” He replied and pointed at them with his head, “Look at them, Severus. Do I look like a
man in need?”
Severus made a sound of amusement. “No.”
“But come on, what’s the reason behind the visit? I doubt it’s a good one.”
“I'm afraid they are a dozen of bad ones,” Severus replied and then told the other man about
the lovely summer so far.
“Fuck,” Remus concluded quite nicely. “We are truly buggered aren’t we?”
“I'm beginning to think you are the reason behind Harry’s colourful vocabulary.”
Remus rolled his eyes.
Severus continued, “I won’t be telling Hermione about Draco. She will find out soon
enough.”
“No, don’t tell her.” Remus agreed, “It’s—” he sighed, “She still looks at Sirius like he’s
going to disappear into thin air.”
“Anything you wish to tell me?” Severus asked, “Perhaps the true reason Sirius decided to
see a therapist now, three years after his escape?”
Remus sighed. “Remember how the Healer said they were suspended in time?” Severus
nodded in assent, “it wasn’t what really happened.” Remus said. “Hermione resumed it to me
quite brilliantly. She said, we were one body and two minds in Death and two bodies and one
mind in Life.” Severus’ breath caught in his throat, the implications behind it alarming.
“Sirius crossed, Severus. And he took Hermione with him. Sirius saw them. James, Regulus,
Lily. They talked. She couldn’t directly talk with them, but she saw and heard them through
him. He didn’t want to come back.”
“You mean…” Severus hesitated.
Remus nodded and let out a painful sigh, “He wouldn’t have minded staying dead.” He said,
“But Hermione wasn’t having it and she pulled him back. He’s alive because she didn’t let
him die.”
Severus cursed. He remembered that brief moment in his office. The momentarily panic
which settled in her eyes when Sirius had left her line of sight. “I didn’t know that was even
possible.”
“Neither did I,” Remus replied. “It scared her, of course. It scared him too. I hate it all.” He
said, the anger simmering in his tone. “I hate that we can’t have this every day. I hate that
Blaise had to flee his house because Death Eaters and a giant were after his mother, I hate
that Theo looks at me like I saved his life when I just did the bare minimum a boy his age
deserves. Merlin, I hate that Albus took Harry without telling me or Sirius to fucking hire the
new staff and is going to give private tutoring to him, fucking a little of this, a little of that
because, of course, he can’t be straight for once in his life.”
“He wants Harry to make Slughorn give him a memory. Something that he told Voldemort
about the Horcruxes. All those years ago.” Severus relayed. Nneka had written to him about
the attack and he told her had hadn't received any information about it beforehand. Voldemort
was letting his Death Eaters loose to instil terror and their creativity was always a surprise.
Remus cursed again, “And there’s that as well. We haven’t had any luck finding the Diadem,
and fucking Albus Dumbledore keeps sending me to recruit the werewolves. I haven’t told
them yet but I will have to miss Harry’s birthday. He’s sending me up north to meet with
them before the next moon.”
“Voldemort has the majority of them already.”
"I know that. And I’ve relayed it to him. But he insists that I keep trying, that I get to
convince them at least to remain neutral if they can’t come to our side. Which honestly? It’s
even less likely. The Light has nothing to offer them.”
Hermione yelled triumphantly and they looked to see Harry falling into the water. Zabini
cheered and Sirius splashed all of them in retaliation.
Remus sighed again, “Sirius told me what they said to him, but he hasn’t told me what they
said to her. I just know she has something to tell you. From them.”
His entire body shivered. Was Lily angry with him? Had he disappointed Regulus? Merlin,
had James Potter decided to scorn him even in death?
Remus didn’t give him any more time to process that bit of information, because he called
out to the others, informing them that Severus was there. There was a lovely shout of “Dad!”
From Hermione that had him breathing easier.
He watched her climb out of the pool, grab the robe from the grass and drop it around herself
before hurrying up to him.
“Having fun?” He asked her. Her hair was dripping wet and a few strands were loose from
the bum at the top of her head. She looked happy. He hated that soon she wouldn’t be.
Hermione nodded. “I wasn’t quite happy when they showed up with a pool instead of
tomatoes, but now I’ve been convinced otherwise.” She told him, “Do you know when our
O.W.Ls are coming?”
Someone groaned and Severus found that it had been the three boys, currently all dripping
water on the porch. They hadn’t bothered with towels. “She’s been pestering us for days
now,” Harry replied.
“It's going to come on the first day of August, alongside the school list.”
“Oh no,” Hermione groaned, “still a week left. I’m going to die.”
“You don’t truly believe you failed a single exam, do you?” He asked her and saw her cheeks
flush.
“Oh yes, spoil it for her,” Sirius said with a shake of his head. His animagus was truly true to
the man because he did look like a dog getting water out of his hair.
Severus took note of how Sirius stood within reaching range and Hermione was quick to grab
on the loop of his shorts. She still looks at Sirius like he’s going to disappear into thin air.
“Are you staying for long?” She asked Severus.
“Not really.” He replied, “There were some things I needed to speak with Remus and to
check if all of you were still in one piece with the pair of them.” He caught the way Theo’s
hair was looking slightly charred at the tips and both Harry’s and Blaise’s had scrapes on
their forearms and elbows. “It doesn’t seem that you are.” He concluded with a frown.
“It went off a bit too low,” Theodore replied with a shrug.
“And we couldn’t hold it for too long,” Harry explained, pointing at him and Blaise.
Severus turned to Sirius with a level look. The man rolled his eyes, “It was their first try.
Normal mistakes.”
“With what, exactly?”
“Monday Madness” Harry replied which didn’t give Severus any clue at all.
“Thurifers Thursdays,” Theodore added because apparently, those two had bonded.
Hermione rolled her eyes as Sirius winked at the two boys.
“On Mondays, Sirius teaches the boys how to ride a motorcycle. And on Thursdays, he
teaches them how to make magical fireworks. Theo didn’t want to learn how to ride it
though,” Hermione quickly supplied.
Sirius gasped in betrayal, “You have to stop giving me away! Honestly! Just like your
mother, you are!”
“I see Theodore is the only sensible boy here,” Severus commented. Still processing the
information that they had assorted days of the weeks for their insanity.
Hermione smiled triumphantly at Sirius before turning her attention back to Severus, “Wait
just a moment? I need to tell you something, but I want to change first.”
“Of course.”
Theodore and Blaise ran inside, ignoring Remus’ calls to not drip on the floor and then
further ignoring the threat of cleaning it without magic.
“I see fatherhood has been a breeze,” Severus commented and Harry snorted. Remus sighed
and Sirius rolled his eyes.
“They listened,” Remus replied, “Slytherins just like to pretend they are deaf.”
“Especially when they are wrong,” Sirius commented.
Not that he needed to prove a point, but he ignored Sirius. “Please, don’t overindulge
Theodore, he truly is one of the best boys I’ve ever met.”
Harry’s mouth dropped and he blinked at him in astonishment. “You do have your
favourites.”
“Of course, I do.”
“Well, at least you won’t have your least favourite student again this year,” Harry replied
with an easy grin, “There's no way I got an Outstanding in Potions,” he said, clearly not
bothered. Sirius snorted.
“Agreed.” He replied, not a single performance from Harry in the past five years would have
hinted at the possibility of getting an O.
But he wouldn’t spoil the lovely surprise for the boy. Oh, but they would be seeing each other
in class again and in Harry’s favourite subject.
Harry scowled then, but there wasn’t any real bite. Harry crossed the porch and entered the
house, they heard him yell, “Theo! Tell Malfoy he’s not my sister’s dad's favourite student!
The shame is yours!”
Severus shook his head. He saw that Remus was looking at Sirius, almost as though he was
waiting for the other man to react. He didn’t, but the look on his face indicated that he was far
away.
Hermione returned, wearing a flowery sundress and her damp hair bound in a braid. “Okay,”
she announced, “we can go.”
Remus reached to grip Sirius’ shoulder and pulled him inside, “Come on, we talked about it.”
Sirius muttered, “I don’t have to like it, Moony.”
Severus followed Hermione, they walked towards the bench where they had their first
conversation last summer. Merlin, it had been just a year ago. So much had happened.
Hermione grinned up at him, “Crazy, isn’t it?” She asked, revealing that she thinking of the
same thing. “A year can change so many things.”
“Indeed.”
Hermione sighed as she settled on the bench, “Did Remus tell you? That I wanted to talk to
you?” He nodded. “That makes it easier then,” she said with small relief. “Mum is proud of
you.” She said and it knocked the air out of him. Not only the words but the fact that
Hermione called Lily mum. “She regrets not opening the door of the Gryffindor Tower earlier
that day.” Hermione continued and Severus felt like he was going to be sick. “And that’s her
only regret. Everything else, she wouldn’t change a thing. She wanted me to thank you, for
everything you did since her death. For taking care of me, of Harry. And that’s what James
wanted to say too. He wants to thank you for taking care of Harry. For taking him out of the
Dursleys when no one else did, for showing up. He told me to let you know—” Hermione
hesitated then, “You can have him. He—He took me in, he says it’s only fair you take Harry
in. He apologises and he forgives you.” Hermione gave a small chuckle, “He says he sent you
his physical copy and despite hating how you treated Harry at the beginning, he’s proud of
Harry for wearing you out, warming you up. A true Potter, he says. Only a Potter can worm
up their way inside the coldest of hearts.”
Severus was speechless, he looked at Hermione as though the words coming out of her were
truly coming out in their voice. He could see Lily’s eyes through Hermione, Lily’s cadence in
Hermione’s voice. Merlin, he could see James Potter’s amused glint, the way he tilted his
head and smirked before opening his mouth.
“Regulus say hi.” Hermione continued, “Says you are a bastard for taking too long before
turning. And an even bigger bastard for looking the other way when Evan and Barty got too
deep into the Dark Arts. But he’s glad you lived.” Severus snorted. “He tells me you already
know what you have to do to stop the sacrifice, but you are looking at it the wrong way.”
Severus gasped, “Did he tell—”
Hermione shook her head, “No. He didn’t say anything else.” He didn’t sigh, but it was a
close one.
“They are really watching over us, then.” He said instead of everything else he could come
up with. His mind was spinning.
Hermione chuckled, “Can you imagine? If the muggles had this confirmation? The sort of
things people would do?”
“They already do all sorts of things without the confirmation.” He replied.
You already know what you have to do to stop the sacrifice, but did he?
Severus was staring straight ahead, but he knew she was staring at him. Studying his profile
and trying to come up with answers for what the dead had told her.
“Can I ask something or you, Hermione?” He asked her, looking back at her. She nodded.
“Don't tell your brother about what you saw there.”
“Why not? It’s his family.”
He took hold of her hand, he studied the bracelet Draco had given her. He couldn’t keep
avoiding the topic of his daughter with his godson. This clearly looked like a courtship gift
and Draco Malfoy was clearly a boy who would go through courtship gifts. He sighed. Life
didn’t stop, not for war, not for anyone. He had to be a Death Eater, an Order member, a Head
of House, a Defence teacher and most of all, he needed to be a Father. Despite everything,
giving Draco Malfoy the talk was not something he was eager to do. Not when he couldn’t
hex the boy without risking dying because of the Unbreakable Vow.
“He already got too close to death too many times in his life,” Severus replied, putting down
her hand and consequently putting down that matter for later, “Tell me, how much more
willing to put himself at risk do you think Harry will be if he learns they are there waiting for
him?”
Hermione made a choked-up sound and brought her legs up to her chest, hugging her knees.
Her entire body language was one of devastation, but when she looked up at him her eyes
were crackling with the same fire he saw fifteen years ago. “I would drag him back kicking
and screaming.” She told him.
And Severus had no doubt.
“Dad…” Hermione began tentatively, “Do you have—” she stopped and he knew what she
was going to ask, he knew he was going to lie. “—any news on Draco? He told me he
wouldn't be able to write but he hasn’t replied at all and other than Narcissa’s calling me
through the bond after I woke up, I haven’t gotten anything from them.”
He saw her fiddling with the bracelet around her wrist, the one he knew had a pair that Draco
wore on his finger.
“I’ve been to the Manor just the once this summer.” He told her, which was part of the truth.
“I‘ve been given a task, of sorts, that has kept me away. I haven’t seen him.”
“I’m worried about him. About Narcissa.”
He reached for her, petting the side of her head. “I know. Draco and Narcissa are very smart
Hermione, no one exceeds them in self-preservation. Both of them know exactly what they
are dealing with right now.”
“I will see him on the train then,”
“You will.”
She shifted in the bench and when he made to bring his arm back down, she simply put her
back on the bench, matching his position looking straight ahead and keeping his arm stuck
behind her.
He smirked but didn’t say anything. When he lowered his arms around her shoulders, it was
her turn to smirk.
Severus looked up. They were watching them.
He tugged her to his side and she went willingly, I’m not messing this up, Lily.
And because a Potter could never be too long without attention, Harry’s laughter echoed
around the house and to where they were. “CATCH HIM CROOKSHANKS!”
Severus looked up again, I’m taking him too James Potter.
Hermione immediately jumped at the name of her cat, looking back at the house with a
frown.
“GO, PADFOOT, GO!”
“Not again!” She groaned and got up from the bench.
“What are they doing now?” He asked.
“There’s a family of mice in the attic,” Hermione explained on the way, rushing back inside.
Severus staggered at the scene, “and they do that when the poor things leave.”
The three boys were standing up on the sofa, laughing and cheering, and Remus - a grown
man and werewolf - was standing up on the armchair eyeing the poor mouse scurrying
around the living room as though it were his worst enemy.
The coffee table had been turned, and the rug was curled haphazardly at the foot of the
armchair and Crookshanks and Padfoot were chasing the mouse around.
“What on—”
Hermione climbed on the other armchair, using his shoulder as support. “Crookshanks is
currently winning, he got two mice while Pads only got one so far, he’s slower than Crooks.”
Pads didn’t like that and barked at Hermione.
She giggled and he watched her. Her eyes were like Remus’, trained on the small creature
running for its life and she hadn’t seemed to notice that her hand was still on his shoulder.
The mouse rushed under the sofa and the trio shrieked, the pair of Slytherins almost jumped
on Harry, who was apparently having the time of his life after hearing the sound that came
out of Theodore and Zabini. Crookshanks rushed after it, by being smaller, he could fit under
the sofa, Sirius - Padfoot - was barking, his tail swaying in excitement and Severus had to
snort at how ridiculous it was to witness Sirius Black as a dog wiggle his backside while his
muzzle was under a sofa.
Blaise Zabini, who was a terrible person when he wanted, tapped against Harry’s side and
pointed at Padfoot’s tail with a smirk. The boy’s green eyes widened and soon a very James
Potter smirk had settled on the boy’s face.
As if Harry was too slow to comprehend, Zabini mimicked pulling a tail and Theodore
snorted, hiding the sound behind his hands.
They looked up to find Remus watching them with his arms crossed and a single raised
eyebrow.
Hermione was shaking trying to contain her laugh. Sirius, unaware of the risk he was under,
kept barking.
Remus, proving Severus’ years-long suspicions that the quiet Marauder was in fact not as
quiet, nodded minimally. Without another second to wait, Harry pulled.
Padfoot jumped, the sofa shook with the sudden movement because of course Padfoot had
knocked his head, and the three boys gripped one another trying to steady themselves.
When the chase resumed, it was three boys against a big black dog. No one seemed to realise
that Crookshanks was now licking his paws which had spots of blood on them.
Hermione knew it would be a terrible idea to go to the Burrow for Harry’s birthday, but
without Remus with them, the party couldn’t be brought to Remus’ cottage and Sirius
wouldn’t let them behind.
Once more, she understood Rita Skeeter’s animagus, because she too would love to be a
small insect just so she could hear the argument that most certainly had taken place.
But Sirius Black was a force to be reckoned with and there was nothing keeping him from
throwing Harry the birthday party he never had.
Almost every Weasley was there, with came with Blaise’s mutter of “I feel like I could be a
victim of a hate crime at any second now,” and Tonks, who Hermione briefly remembered
from the Department of Mysteries, and Fleur Delacour, of all people.
Ron looked at Theo and Blaise as though he had a wand up on his ass and was perpetually
uncomfortable. Hermione knew quite well how much the red-haired boy hated sharing Harry.
But when he completely refused to even greet the pair, Hermione knew it would be a long
day ahead of them.
Thankfully, they had arrived after lunch, because Sirius told them that Mrs Weasley had
refused his offer to get Kreacher to help in the kitchen or his offer to do the shopping. “It’s
my godson and I’m bringing three more with me, of course, it’s my place to do it,” Sirius had
complained to Hermione after yet another fight via Floo-call with the Weasley matriarch.
Hermione remembered a conversation that had happened a long time ago between her, Pansy
and Harry where they discussed another Weasley’s problem with money.
But for sixteen-year-old boys with magic, most problems were easily dealt with with a
Quidditch match. Bill very smartly suggested that they played a game since they were even,
so alongside Bill, Harry, Theo, Blaise, Ron, Fred, George and Ginny spent the afternoon
flying around, playing four against four.
On one side, the twins and Ginny were playing Chaser with Ron in the goal, on the other
side, Harry and the Slytherins were Chasers while Bill was Keeper.
Fleur came to sit next to her to watch the game, Sirius was on her other side cheering for all
of them. It hadn’t taken long for Hermione to notice that neither Mrs Weasley nor Ginny
were big fans of Fleur. Ginny had gone as far as calling the young woman a cow.
“You don’t mind me sitting 'ere, Hermione do you?” Fleur asked in her thick French accent.
“Of course not.” She replied.
Sirius leaned forward and said something to her in French that got the girl laughing. She was
really beautiful.
“How's your internship at Gringots?” Hermione asked.
Fleur smiled widely and began telling everything she did at her part-time internship and how
much Bill was helping her. Every time Fleur would slip a word in French, Sirius would
translate it for her.
Mrs Weasley appeared at the window, saw that Fleur and Hermione were talking and made a
face.
Fleur’s expression shattered a bit and she leaned closer to whisper, “She doesn’t like me very
much, I theenk.”
Hermione smiled in support, “She doesn’t like me much either.”
Unaware, Molly began barking at the boys and Ginny to come down. Once Ginny got to the
ground and Mrs Weasley took note of the sweat on the girl’s face and the way her hair was all
messy due to the window, she didn’t waste a second before reprimanding the girl. “Look at
you! Is that grime on your cheek? Honestly Ginevra, sometimes I think I had seven boys!"
Ginny rolled her eyes and tried to pacify her mother.
Bill gave a quick kiss to Fleur’s cheek when he reached them and Fleur smiled lovingly at
him and even swiped sweat off his brow.
“Did you see the catch I made, Hermione?” Ron asked her.
“No. Sorry. I was talking to Fleur. Didn’t really watch you guys play.”
“Oh.” He said and she saw his cheeks reddening, “It was a very nice catch.”
Before Hermione could reply, Blaise threw himself at her, sitting one step below her and
resting his head on her legs. Immediately distracted, she looked down at Blaise, who even in
his sweaty form could be breathtaking. He winked at her, “Am I making your heart race,
Granger?”
Ron mumbled something she didn’t catch, too busy burying her hand in Blaise’s hair and
tugging in reprimand, “Not even slightly, Zabini.”
Theo sat down on the step next to Blaise, rearranging his boyfriend’s legs so he could fit
properly. “She likes them brooding love, like me.”
Sirius snorted and swatted at Theo’s knee. Fleur was finding everything very amusing and
turned to Sirius to ask something in rapid French. Sirius laughed loudly and pointed between
him, Blaise and Theo and Hermione caught only pieces of his reply, she most certainly heard
her name. Something about Fleur being very pretty but Bill getting more attention.
“‘e is very beautiful, yes.”
Mrs Weasley came back, certainly after shepherding her daughter towards the shower.
Hermione saw the way the woman looked at Blaise on Hermione’s legs and at Theo, who
was currently plucking the small daisies on the grass and placing them on her hair. Sirius
smirked, he had caught Mrs Weasley's look too.
Hermione waited but the woman barely contained a bristle and ushered Harry and Ron
inside, telling the pair to wash up and muttering about overtly displays. Bill rolled his eyes
and pulled Fleur with him, going inside after his mother. Another Weasley kid going to
placate Molly Weasley in less than ten minutes.
“Merlin, they are so easy to rattle,” Blaise said after all the Weasleys had left.
Sirius snorted, “I'm pretty sure she doesn’t know there’s no S in mother with how smothering
she is.”
"What were you saying in French, anyway?" Blaise asked.
"Fleur was surprised that the two of you don't act like the other boys. Apparently, they can't
focus much when she's around. Part-Veela." He shrugged. Hermione rolled her eyes, "Oh
kiddo, don't worry. I told her these two are obsessed with you."
They laughed and Blaise threw another wink at her.
They stayed outside for a while longer and Blaise and Theo only got back inside when Bill
came back to offer his shower and a change of shirts.
The sun was almost setting and the activities moved to inside the house. Sirius stuck close to
her and she was glad for it, with Remus not there, she felt a little lost among all the Weasleys.
They sang Happy Birthday and ate cake, Harry got all of his presents but announced that he
would open all of them later. Hermione hadn’t been the only one to notice that Ron was
frowning at the box Harry had gotten from Theo, much larger than the parcel Ron had given.
During the day, Hermione noticed how Harry’s gaze seemed to linger around Ginny and how
more than once he quickly agreed to her suggestions for games. The last one had been
Exploding Snap, and he had just won against Ginny and was currently playing against Ron.
Ginny sat next to Harry watching him.
Theo and Blaise were playing the magical version of Guess Who with the twins, the cards
were either Beings, Beasts or Spirits. It was a very competitive game with playoffs and
everything, they had just moved on from the group phase. It was Blaise and Fred’s turn, and
Theo and George sat on the side watching the match.
Hermione, of course, was enjoying a book with Sirius next to her reading over her shoulder.
“Girls, come here and help me in the kitchen,” Mrs Weasley called.
Ginny sighed and got up. Hermione didn’t move.
Mrs Weasley called again, “Come here Hermione dear, help me set the plates."
Hermione frowned, “Why?”
"What do you mean why?” Molly asked. Sirius hid his face behind her hair.
All the games around them had stopped.
“Why me? I’m reading. They are not doing anything.” She replied, pointing at Theo and
George.
Mrs Weasley bristled, “Well, yeah but—”
“But they are boys?” Hermione concluded, Sirius huffed in amusement but still hid. “Is that
it? I go help in the kitchen because I’m a girl?” She frowned.
“Of course not! You know boys, they are careless and clumsy and don’t know how—” but
Hermione’s frown was now a glare, so Mrs Weasley changed her approach, “It’s just a little
help, isn’t it?"
“I don't think so.”
“I like her,” Fred whispered to Blaise and Theo.
“What?” Mrs Weasley asked, dumbfounded.
"I said no. I won’t help. Get someone else.” She said and after closing her book a bit too
forcefully, went outside. She didn’t go far, deciding to sit under the window and still hear the
conversation.
“Merlin,” she heard Molly sigh, “what's wrong with that girl?”
A snort.
And then, “Absolutely nothing.” She heard Sirius’ voice. He was not amused.
“Oh Sirius, no girl should speak like that to another adult. That girl should be learning some
manners, no doubt has never lifted a single finger in that house, all those elves.” Mrs Weasley
grumbled, “I’m certain it's that lots influence,” Molly accused.
“That girl is brilliant,” Sirius replied. “That girl is everything to me. You watch your tone
with her, Molly. And besides, that lot is my family you are speaking of.
The door opened again and she found Sirius leaving through it.
They grinned at each other. His smile fell first at the sight of the tears in her eyes.
He walked up to her and sat down next to her. At once he pulled her into his side and hugged
her tightly.
“I miss them,” Hermione said. “Aunt Cissy and Draco. I even miss Uncle.”
“I know you do kiddo, I know.”
“She yells at Ginny when the girl flies, calls her all sorts of things because she behaves like
‘one of the boys’ and then rebukes Fleur for being exactly what she forces Ginny to be. Bill
has a brilliant career and she just nags him all the time. Charlie is not even here and she nags
as well. Merlin, the way she treats you. Is it me the problem?” She asked, looking up at him,
“am I the problem for wanting to be at the Manor? For missing the manor like I was born
under that roof? For missing people who are either in Azkaban or living with Voldemort?”
“As someone who spent twelve years in Azkaban kiddo, the thought of someone from the
outside missing me, surely made some nights easier.” Sirius replied, “And no, you are not the
problem. You are not and will never be the problem. They are your family too, I didn’t like it
at the beginning, because of what I felt towards my family. I spent so much time hating them
that I forgot that I loved Narcissa once too. You reminded me of that. Because of you, I got a
chance to see her again, I don’t mean face to face, but to really see her.”
“But why don't I like them?” Hermione asked, “I have nothing against some of them,” Sirius
snorted, “but I feel they are—”
“Too black and white.” He completed and she was glad because she was going to say
something offensive like simple. “They see the world as good people and Death Eaters. They
are so proud of being blood traitors that they forgot they also are Sacred Twenty-Eight.
Which makes them all blood-related to me somewhere up that line.”
Hermione snorted, “You are exaggerating.”
“I'm not kiddo.” He shook his head, “ask Arthur who was his mother. She was a Black, not as
close to me as the woman Molly’s uncle married, which is my father’s sister.”
“Your family tree gives me a headache.”
“It's a wreath.” He replied, “And it gives me one as well. I used to ask girls how far up their
Black ascendant was before kissing them.”
Hermione chuckled, “Where did you draw the line?”
“At least third cousin, any more I would have no playing pool.” He winked at her.
“Thank Merlin you found Moony.”
“Yeah, thank Merlin.” He replied. He waited a bit and then, “I don’t like her either.”
Hermione laughed loudly at that.

“Not that I’m petty as Pads to begrudge happiness when I’m not around, but a little bit more
of moroseness would make me feel very go—oohf.”
Her body had crashed against his and his hands were immediately around her and Sirius.
Hermione knew she had gotten up to her feet at the same time Sirius did, but she got to where
Remus was because Sirius picked her up and ran with her.
She could hear Sirius smothering Remus’ face with kisses and she didn’t care one bit that she
was currently being pressed between them, not when neither had thought of stopping hugging
her.
The door opened again and they heard two voices shouting:
“Moony!”
“Dad!”
A few seconds later two other pairs of arms got to them and immediately Sirius and Remus
pulled them to the now group hug.
“All of that for a mutt and a rabid dog,”
They snorted at the new voice, not even Sirius felt slighted by it, because there was no bite in
Severus Snape’s tone.
Hermione didn’t need to like the Weasleys, her family was right here.
Remus ushered them all back inside, not before messing up both Harry’s and Theo’s hair.
“What a lovely look pup,” he told her, inspecting the flowers in her hair. Hermione grinned.
“It was Theo’s work.” She replied.
Remus chuckled, “Blaise would have put ants in your hair,”
“Hey!” Blaise said from the porch where he and the others had gathered at the sound of
Remus’ arrival.
Inside, where the light could illuminate him better, Hermione noticed that he looked gaunt
and grim and his clothes were more ragged and patched than when he left. Did he have more
grey streaks on his hair?
Tonks, who had spent most of the afternoon with Arthur giving tips on muggle items that she
knew how to use because of her father, had returned. The moment she saw Remus, her purple
hair turned into a sandy brown to match his. She quickly changed it back, but not before
getting a scowl from Sirius.
“There have been another couple of Dementor attacks,’ Remus announced, either unaware or
ignoring the Black cousins’ small friction as Mrs Weasley passed him a large slice of
birthday cake. “And they’ve found Igor Karkaroff’s body in a shack up north. The Dark Mark
had been set over it – well, frankly, I’m surprised he stayed alive for even a year after
deserting the Death Eaters.”
“Yes, well,’ Mrs Weasley, said with a frown, “perhaps we should talk about something diff
—”
“Did you hear about Florean Fortescue, Remus?’ Bill asked while accepting the wine Fleur
was pouring him. “The man who ran—”
“—the ice cream place in Diagon Alley?” Harry interrupted. “He used to give me free ice
creams. What’s happened to him?”
“Dragged off, by the look of his place,” Bill told them. Harry looked uneasy at the news.
Sirius reached out to him, pulling him to his side.
Without noticing, Hermione shuffled closer to her dad, who offered a small nod in greeting
before placing a hand on her shoulder.
“Why?” Ron asked. Mrs Weasley was now glaring at Bill.
“Who knows? He must’ve upset them somehow. He was a good man, Florean.”
“Talking of Diagon Alley,” Mr Weasley added, “looks like Ollivander’s gone too.”
“The wand-maker?’ Ginny asked, looking startled.
“That’s the one. The shop’s empty. No sign of a struggle. No one knows whether he left
voluntarily or was kidnapped.”
“But wands – what’ll people do for wands?”
“They’ll make do with other makers,” Remus replied, already finished with his slice. Tonks
slid a glass of juice in his direction. He smiled politely in thanks. “But Ollivander was the
best, and if the other side has got him it’s not so good for us.” He concluded and looked down
with a raised eyebrow at Sirius’ hand, which was splayed possessively on his thigh.
Finally, Mrs Weasleys succeed in shifting the conversation and got the kids to leave the
kitchen, leaving the adults to talk alone. Hermione rolled her eyes.
“I hate when she kicks us out like that.” Ginny grumbled, “Last year at Grimmauld Place was
the same thing.” She said, “We couldn’t hear anything.”
“Huh,” Theo said, “Remus tells us everything.”
“What do you know?” She asked.
He shrugged. “Can't say.”
“Which means you know nothing,” Ron retorted with a glare.

“If it makes you sleep better Weasley,” Theo said.
“Sodding Slytherins.” He groaned and climbed up the stairs.
They all sat in the living room, waiting for the adults. Hermione couldn’t wait to go back
home. She had had enough.
Sirius was the first to appear but didn’t spare a glance at them before going up as well.
“Not good.” Blaise guessed.
“Tonks or my sister’s dad?” Harry asked, a smirk in place.
Hermione chuckled, “Your eyes work after all, little brother.” She said, repeating something
Pansy had told him during the Yule Ball.
He grinned and winked at her, “The glasses work, you mean?”
So Harry had caught Tonks’ obvious crush on Remus, just like Sirius had. Hermione
wondered if he was aware of his own crush on Ginny.
Before they could give their bets, the door opened again and Severus walked out. He climbed
the stairs, but Hermione had a hard time believing he would be going after Sirius.
“Not Tonks then,” Blaise concluded with a snort.
Severus and Sirius were supposed to be having a conversation. A serious one. Despite the
name, such a feat was almost impossible for the other man.
As it was, they were both in complete silence nursing a glass of fire whiskey in one hand and
blowing out the smoke with the cigarette in the other hand. It had been years since Severus
had last smoked.
They heard the door open and a pair of feet come outside. From where they were - the bloody
roof of the Burrow - they couldn’t see who was now outside just a bit below them.
Severus had wanted to speak with Sirius - who was difficult on a good day - and Sirius had
refused to move from the crooked roof outside the window of the narrow landing between the
first and second floor. Severus, proving that one of them had become mature in the past few
years, climbed out and sat down next to the other man.
When Sirius offered him a cigarette and a glass, Severus realised the conversation actually
had a starting chance.
But that had been half an hour ago.
“Why do you call him dad?” Harry asked. And of course, it was him. And the topic he and
Sirius were currently not speaking about.
“Because that’s what he is to me,” Theo replied simply.
“But your…"
“I've never had a dad,” Theo explained. “I had a Sirer. It was only Father or Sir with him.
And even then, he never called me son either. To him I was only ‘you’ or ‘disgrace of an
heir’ or his favourite ‘the thing your mother spread her legs for’. But with Dad… My first
memory of him is him being kind to me, taking care of me. He gave me a home and he gave
me a family. I will never need to be perfect for him and he won’t ever expect me to. I can be
Theo, just Theo and it’s enough.” Severus could hear the smile in the boy’s voice, Remus had
done so well by that boy, “but mostly, I love how the word sounds. I love that I get to say it.”
“I—” Harry hesitated, “I don’t know if I ever got to say it. Of course, I don’t remember my
first word, but I’d like to think that I got to say it before he died.”
“From the things we learned about James? I’m pretty sure he sat down with you the moment
you came out and began teaching you that word.” Sirius next to him nodded to himself with a
small smile.
Harry chuckled and Severus noticed that the sound was a bit wet.
“Harry,” Theo said. “You know you can have it, don’t you?” Merlin, how many people would
say it before he did? “You call him my sister’s dad all the time. It’s the closest you can get
him to be yours.”
“I—it’s not that. I don’t—”
“But it is,” Theo said. “He treats the two of you like his.”
“He doesn’t.” Harry quickly denied it.
“He does,” Theo argued. “He's my Head of House, I know him. I knew he treated Hermione
differently from day one. He couldn’t be her father then, but he already was more. Last year?
He was more with you.”
“Dad…” Harry whispered. Like he was testing it.
“Look at Hermione,” Theo said with amusement, “She’s now calling James Dad Number
Three. She’s collecting them all.”
Harry chuckled, “Okay. You’ve got a point.”
“Let's go back inside, I want to hear you say it and see if he faints.”
“I did it once, just out of spite” Harry confessed, Severus could hear the boy’s smirk.
“Dumbledore almost fainted,” he chuckled and their voices got cut as the door closed behind
them one more time.
Severus had waited long enough. Sirius had turned to him already. He was waiting.
"Give him to me," Severus asked Sirius. "Be his godfather. Be his best friend, teach him how
to ride a motorcycle and how to flirt. But give him to me, let me raise James Potter's son and
you can be what James and Lily wanted you to be. Give him to me and everything you can
offer him will be enough.”
As though the temperature had dropped dozens of degrees, Sirius shivered and when he
spoke, it was with the smallest of the sounds, “Thank you.”
He nodded.
Severus knew that hadn’t been the near-death experience, Sirius would never have agreed. He
would scream and fight and throw a punch and a hex. He would curse Severus and threaten
and lose it the way Severus knew no one but Sirius Black could.
But it took dying and wanting to stay dead for him to realise that although he loved Harry
immensely, Sirius couldn’t be here for the boy.
And there was nothing Severus wanted more than to be here.
Chapter End Notes
Let me know in the comments what you think!!
As always you can find me on twitter or Instagram it's moonyhoax
The title and quote at the beginning belong to Bridges by ALIKA

let it in, embrace and uncurl
Chapter Notes
Hello!! we are officially entering year 6! I can't believe we are in their last year before
the war, what a journey!
I hope you like it <3
The title and quote at the beginning belong to How Can I Make It OK? by Wolf Alice
A moment to change it all

had life before been so slow?
urgency takes hold
but to live in fear isn't to live at all
Chapter Sixty-One
“Pups and cubs!” Sirius yelled from wherever he was. Hermione turned around in her bed.
They had Flooed back home after eleven and Sirius had been in a grouchy mood. He tried to
not let it show but Hermione wasn’t like the other boys anymore, she could read him now.
They had been sent to bed, with both Remus and Sirius going to check if Blaise was really
with Harry instead of Theo, for Blaise’s annoyance. But Sirius himself hadn't gone to bed for
a while, with her bedroom being the first in the corridor, she had heard the cabinets opening
and closing softly, the sounds of him probably making tea as Remus had gotten ridden of the
alcohol to help Sirius.
Hermione had stayed up late, waiting to hear the click of their room down the hall before she
finally fell asleep.
For him to be already up and shouting, Hermione knew it must have been past nine, as Sirius
was not a morning person. But because he was yelling, she knew it was a good day. It was
always easy to know when it came to him: dog or man.
“PUPS AND CUBS!” He yelled again, this time much louder and Hermione rolled her eyes.
The door next to her banged open.
“What the fuck,” Harry muttered.
Hermione pushed her sheets aside and got up as well before Sirius decided to use a Sonorus
charm.
“Are we the pups and cubs?” Theo asked, scratching his belly and trying to stifle a yawn.
Harry’s hair was always a mess, but something had to be said about his ‘just woke up’ hair.
Only when Blaise appeared behind Theo - proving that he had slipped from Harry’s room in
the middle of the night-, Hermione noticed they all had worn their new pyjamas.
Sirius had got for Harry - and all of them - matching pyjamas. They were all button-up satin
pyjamas with shorts, each with different patterns. Harry's had the Golden Snitch all over,
while Theo and Blaise had the Bludger and a Beater’s bat scattered in theirs. Purposely
ignoring that she didn't like Quidditch, Hermione had the Quaffle one.
“Look at you!” Sirius cooed with a smile when they all shuffled down the hall to the kitchen
table. Remus already had his coffee in his hand and the morning paper in the other. He and
Sirius were still in their pyjamas. Hermione snorted. He looked ridiculous with the Quidditch
Captain written across his pyjamas shirt and the way-too-short silken shorts. Hermione could
spy a tattoo on Sirius’ upper thigh. “Moony! Look at them!”
“I'm looking, Pads.” He replied and lowered the newspaper. Remus too had a matching pair.
Hermione snorted again.
“Get it?” Sirius asked them grinning, “The goal hoops because he’s a keeper.”
Harry groaned at the terrible joke, “Good morning Padfoot.” He said instead. For someone
who had just turned sixteen, he didn’t seem much bothered that his godfather had gifted him -
among many other things - a pyjama set that most definitely a five-year-old would wear.
They enjoyed a nice breakfast together, but for some reason or another, Sirius’ leg was
jumping up and down and he kept looking at them in excitement.
After all of them had mostly finished with their food, Remus sighed, “All right, give it to
them.”
“What?” Hermione asked in suspicion as Sirius jumped from the table and went to retrieve
something. Remus winked. Sirius returned with four envelopes in his hands. Hermione
jumped after him at the sight of the school letters. “Give it to me!” She begged, “Oh my God
give it to me!”
Sirius complied and gave each teenager their respective letter. Hermione opened her quickly,
ignoring the school list to see the O.W.L.s results.
Remus reached for the discarded parchment to look at the book list.
Her eyes widened in shock and her mouth dropped.
“Fuck off!” Blaise was saying to his, “No way!”
“What the—” Theo began scanning his letter.

Harry was smirking, he grinned at Sirius, “You will have to give me that shirt Padfoot, I was
made Quidditch Captain.”
Sirius squealed and hugged Harry, messing up his messy hair even more. “Quidditch
Captain!” He took the letter from Harry, reading it himself and looking a bit misty-eyed.
“Pup?” Remus asked and Hermione looked at him, “How did you do, love?”
She grinned widely at him, eyes crinkling. “I got ten O.W.L.s”
“Hermione! That’s brilliant, let me see it!” Remus said, getting up and hugging her as well.
She showed him the letter and his smile widened, “All Outstanding? What a beautiful,
brilliant girl you are.”
The others had heard that and were looking at her, Blaise was the first to grin, “You are such
a nerd Granger. Congratulations.” He told her and handed her his so they could switch.
Blaise had gotten nine O.W.L.s, Outstanding in Potions, Charms, D.A.D.A and Ancient
Runes, Exceed Expectations in Care of Magical Creatures, Herbology and Transfiguration.
For Astronomy and History of Magic, he had gotten an Acceptable.
“Theo, that’s amazing.” Remus was saying. “You did such a good job.” He ruffled Theo’s
hair affectionally and showed it to Sirius. “You got more than I did,” he told the boy with a
smile.
“Really?” Theo asked, “What did you get?”
“I failed Potions, I was rubbish at it.” He told the boy, “And History of Magic as well, the full
moon had been the night before, could barely keep an eye open, but got an Outstanding for
Defence and Charms.”
Harry snorted, “I failed History of Magic too,” he told them. “And Divination as well.”
Hermione read over his scores, he had done well, considering everything. Seven O.W.Ls, one
Outstanding in D.A.D.A and several Exceeds Expectations and one Acceptable in
Astronomy. It was no surprise the Dreadful in History of Magic, considering the events.
She checked Theo’s result and it was only then when he noticed he had an extra parchment in
his letter.
Like Blaise, he too had gotten nine O.W.Ls. Getting Outstanding in Charms, D.A.DA,
History of Magic, Ancient Runes, Muggle Studies, Herbology and Exceeds Expectations in
Potions and Astronomy.
“I got made Prefect,” Theo announced and Hermione turned to him with a frown.
“What?” She asked, confused, “But Draco—”
Blaise leaned over Hermione’s shoulder to read Theo’s letter. “Maybe Draco asked to step
down?” Blaise asked.
“Why, though?”
Blaise and Theo just shrugged.
“You can ask him, he probably realised it isn’t as fancy as it sounds,” Sirius replied with a
shrug. “Always thought it was very boring myself.” He grinned and Remus rolled his eyes, a
mutter of ‘you would think so’ under his breath. “Let's take a picture, our N.E.W.Ts level
pups and cubs!”
From Merlin knows where Sirius had pulled out a camera and squeezed the four of them into
the living room, their scores result in front of them. Hermione had Harry and Theo on each
side, with Blaise on Theo’s other side. They all dropped arms around one another and showed
off their scores to the camera, with a grin, Sirius snatched the photo.
“Perfect!” He grinned.
“Here, let me take one of you all,” Blaise said, asking for the camera. He looked at Theo with
a fond look and added, “A family photo.”
Sirius and Remus moved, with Remus replacing Blaise next to Theo and Sirius going behind
Hermione and Harry, placing his head between theirs. The moment Blaise took the picture
the two adults squeezed them and they all squealed and laughed as the flash went out.
August was better. They finished all of their summer work and spent an entire month just
enjoying time together. Blaise and Harry got much better at riding a motorcycle, enough that
Blaise was even giving Theo rides. Theo saw the appeal of the motorcycle then, so much so
that every time they went on a ride they took over an hour to return. There was a dishevelled
look to them that was not acquired with just the wind against their hair.
Hermione wasn’t the only one to notice, because one day she caught Sirius begging them to
not do anything on the leather because it could stain. By Remus’ disappointed shake of the
head, Hermione guessed that wasn’t the talk he had hoped from Sirius.
Sirius, in all his effort - which consisted of seeing a therapist twice a week and limited dog
time - had more good days than bad days. He would still go after her, just as she’d go after
him, a small reassurance, a ‘we are here’ and they would continue with their day. Some days,
he’d laugh extra loud so she’d hear him from her room.
Hermione didn’t see Severus again, but she hadn’t expected to. She knew he was busy, but
she was glad when he’d take the time to send her updates on the potion he was working on
and even send her some samples of things he found important that she had with her.
This salve is good for burns, he’d write with the vial, spread on the area and you will be good
as new.
She was getting quite the collection and Hermione had to cast Gemino in her toiletries bag so
she could have an extra place to store everything, making sure to keep all of them organised
and labelled. She had a bit of everything and a part of her knew her dad was purposely
brewing things for her. From antidotes, draughts, salves and even some poisons.
Remus saw her organising it over the kitchen table one day when everyone else was outside.
He leaned over her from behind and kissed the top of her hair, “I love you, pup.” He said and
she looked up with a small frown. It wasn’t uncommon to get the sentiment from him, but it
had come out of nowhere. He ignored her look and moved away.
Hermione looked down at her things. It dawned on her then. The lake had suddenly
swallowed her again. The iciness in her bones and the constant pressure on her chest kept her
from breathing.
She had said the same, hadn’t she? That day at the Department of Mysteries when the thought
she was going to die. She sent an I love you to Remus that sounded like goodbye.
Hermione wouldn’t have it.
“Stop that.” She said. Snapped, really. Remus turned. “Don't say it like you are not going to
be here long enough to say it again.” Hermione pointed at the bag, “He's doing it, isn’t he?
This? He’s giving me things only he can because he thinks he might not be able to have
another chance.”
“We are at war,” Remus replied and it sounded absurd because Harry and Theo were flying
shirtless outside of the house, Hermione could see them on the brooms behind Remus’
shoulder through the open window. But they were.
People were dying. Remus was barely at home with them, either going on missions with the
werewolves, attending Order meetings or going wherever he and Sirius went in the middle of
the night. And she knew it wasn’t the same sort of disappearance that Theo and Blaise went
on because Hermione had been awake one night when they returned and she heard Narcissa’s
name.
But it was a few days before they had to take the train back that Hermione really began to
dread those three words. Her bracelet burned with a message for the first time since the
beginning of the summer and it was just them: I love you.
Why they all sounded like goodbyes?
On the thirtieth of August, almost a month after Harry’s birthday at the Burrow, Remus and
Sirius informed that they would be seeing the Weasley clan again. The train was two days
away and they had yet to do their shopping. The adults agreed that it was better to make a
single trip with everyone so there would be more adults around.
Remus sent them to change and get ready to leave in twenty minutes.
Blaise grumbled at the short notice and they heard him muttering, ‘What is this? Army?’
Under his breath as he worked on his hair.
When they returned, Remus was finishing writing something on a piece of parchment, their
school list and their O.W.L.s beside it. “Anyone dropping any elective this year?” He asked
them. Theo shook his head.
“Yeah,” Blaise said, “I’m not doing Magical Creatures this year.”
Hermione and Harry quickly agreed on doing the same.
“Okay, so listen up.” Remus crossed something on his parchment and got up, motioning them
close to the Floo. Sirius stepped next to him carrying three small money bags. “We got Bill to
withdraw money for us. He told us the line at Gringotts is insane with the new security
measures. Around five hours for a small retrieval.” Harry winced at the news.
“But…” Theo began, eyeing the bag warily. “I don’t have…”
“We are covering for you Theo,” Sirius replied. “Pups and cubs.”
“What does that even mean?” Theo asked with a roll of his eyes.
“Wolf. Dog.” Sirius pointed at Remus and himself, “Pups and cubs.” He pointed at
Hermione, Harry and Theo. “The Ancient and Noble House of Black is covering for Harry
and Theo. Your dad got you, kiddo.” Sirius told her and she nodded.
“But I have money!” Harry said.
“Congratulations,” Sirius replied.
“Sirius!”
“You are sixteen years old. We take care of you.”
Harry grumbled but put his money bag inside his backpack.
“Okay, since that’s sorted.” Remus said, “Next one: Is there anything you need other than
what’s on your school list? Robes, socks, ingredients?”
“I need new robes,” Hermione said. “And ingredients.”
Theo scratched his neck, “I need a new wardrobe,” he said. “I only have the things that were
in my trunk when… you know.”
Harry’s cheek flushed before he spoke, “I need clothes too.”
“Perfect,” Sirius said with a pained smile. Harry had asked. “I love clothing shopping.”
Remus continued, “We are Flooing to the Leaky. I will go first, then you wait for my signal to
follow through. We are waiting for extra security. After my signal, it’s Theo, Sirius, Blaise,
Harry and Hermione. Okay?” They all nodded.
“Extra security?”
“Look at the four of you,” Sirius replied, they exchanged glances at one another, “Blood
traitor, Leverage, the Chosen One, and the Human Shield.”
“Leverage?” Blaise asked, “Nothing better than that?”

“Human Shield?” Hermione asked with a frown.
“You are not going to like the other one.”
Hermione snorted. “Oh please. Rita Skeeter labelled me a whore in print when I was fourteen
years old. I think I will be fine.”
Sirius grinned at her, “Quite precocious indeed. I got called a womaniser only a fifteen.”
“Sirius,” Remus said. A reminder for him to focus.
“They are saying Necromancer.”
Hermione blinked. Then shrugged. Sirius raised an eyebrow in question. “Again, a whore at
fourteen. So you’ll have to excuse me if I can’t muster any sort of reaction other than
indifference.”
“Hermione,” Theo said with a pinched expression, “Necromancy is one of the Darkest Arts.
It’s his thing.”
“Good.” Hermione said darkly, “Let them fear me.” Let them come. She would have no
goodbyes. “Let’s go, shall we?”
Remus gave her a searching look and she showed him that she was indeed fine. He stepped
into the Floo. Following his orders, they waited for his signal and one by one they took the
Floo.
When Hermione arrived, she soon noticed that Sirius' good mood had disappeared. The
security consisted of Hagrid and Tonks.
The Weasley entourage arrived right after.
“Wotcher guys” Tonks grinned. “Everyone ready?”
Tom, the barkeeper was gloomily cleaning glasses. Hermione had never seen the Leaky like
this. Empty. But taking a step outside into Diagon Alley, it was clear how much it had
changed. The colourful, glittering window displays of spellbooks, potion ingredients and
cauldrons were lost to view, hidden behind the large Ministry of Magic posters that had been
pasted over them. Moving black-and-white photographs of Death Eaters known to be on the
loose. Bellatrix Lestrange was sneering from the front of the nearest apothecary. Hermione
glared at it and then her eyes went straight to Sirius, who was looking at his cousin’s poster
with a glare of his own.
A few windows were boarded up, and in place, a number of shabby-looking stalls had sprung
up along the street.
“Molly, three of ours need new robes.” Remus told her, “What about yours?” Three of ours.
“Just Ron.” Mrs Weasley replied.

“All right.” He said, “Sirius is going with them to Madam Malkins, Ron can go with them.”
“Dumbledore wants me with Harry,” Hagrid said.
“You can go with them, then,” Remus said with a nod. “I will go with Blaise to get new
ingredients and a handful of stationary for all of them.”
“I will be with you then, Lupin,” Tonks announced with a little skip in her step. Her elbow
almost knocked against the chair and when Remus quickly steadied the chair - the wolf
reflexes -, her hair quickly matched his again before turning into a bright bubblegum pink.
Sirius opened his mouth. Hermione quickly walked up to him and wrapped her arm around
his before he could do something extreme like snogging Remus against Tom’s bar, “You are a
jealous dog, Sirius Black.” She whispered and he glared at her.
“He hasn’t even noticed,” Sirius whispered back.
“Because he’s not looking.”
Momentarily appeased, he stayed next to Hermione.
“Molly and I will get everyone’s books then.” Arthur announced, “Do you have their
subjects?”
“Yes,” Remus replied and got the parchment that Hermione saw he writing on before they
left. “Here it is.”
They handed Arthur the money needed for the books and each group went to their designated
location. They weren’t the only ones walking in groups and putting efficiency first: everyone
seemed to have the same harried, anxious look as Mrs Weasley, and nobody was stopping to
talk or to shop alone.
“I will stay on guard outside,” Hagrid told them once they got to Madam Malkins, “It will be
quite a squeeze for everyone inside.”
Sirius ushered them all inside. At first, the shop seemed to be empty, but right after the door
closed, they heard a familiar voice, “… not a child, in case you haven’t noticed, Mother. I am
perfectly capable of doing my shopping alone.”
Hermione gasped and moved at once. She went around the rack and found Draco and
Narcissa. Their eyes met in the mirror and she took inventory of him. He had grown, again.
His shoulders were broader now, but he looked like someone who had forgotten to fill up. His
eyes had purple circles underneath and Hermione, an avid learner of his face, could see that
his cheeks had sunken a bit. “Now, dear, your mother’s quite right, none of us is supposed to
go wandering around on our own any more, it’s nothing to do with being a child–”
“Leave us,” He said, batting Madam Malkin’s hands away, his eyes never left hers.
“What—”
“I said leave us.”
“Draco, what now? We need—oh.” Narcissa looked up from the magazine she had been
reading and saw her reflection in the mirror as well.
His dark green robes glittered with pins around the hem and the edges of the sleeves, but she
didn’t care, she walked up to him and saw the moment his expression shattered.
Madam Malkins scowled but left, walking towards the others, “Hello dears, how can I help
you?” She asked bitterly.
“Gryffindor robes for these two and Slytherin robes for those two,” Sirius replied and
thankfully pushed Harry and Ron towards another fitting area, giving Hermione the smallest
of privacy.
“Draco,” she said.
“Merlin, what a sight for sore eyes,” he replied and her lower lip trembled.
Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and his right arm quickly wrapped around her.
He burrowed his face in her hair and inhaled.
“I missed you like a limb,” she told him.
“And I like air.”
“I was so worried Draco, I—” he pecked her lips, stopping her. He pulled his arm back,
squeezing her waist. He kissed her forehead and she closed her eyes. “How are you?” She
asked instead.
After another squeeze of her waist, he moved his hand to cup her cheek. “Now?” He asked
her, with a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “Absolutely perfect.”
“My dear,” Narcissa called and Hermione turned to look at her. She had lost some colour and
weight as well. Still dressed impeccably, but somehow she looked smaller. Hermione didn’t
have in her to hold a grudge against Narcissa any longer. She stepped to the side and went to
hug her godmother. Narcissa let out a small sound that could be almost considered a sob. “I
hope you’ve been well.”
“I have.” Hermione replied, “I'm so sorry Aunt Cissy,” Hermione said, tears in her eyes, “He
—”
“Don’t. Let’s not—”
“He saved my life.” Hermione told her, “More than once. He saved my life,” Hermione
repeated.
“It quiets my thoughts to know.”

Sirius appeared around the rack as well, “The boys are mostly done, kiddo.” Sirius told her.
“Hello, cousin, little cousin.”
Draco nodded in greeting. Narcissa patted his cheek tenderly.
“I will see you on the train,” she told Draco and kissed him briefly, before going to get her
new robes.
Madam Malkin worked in silence, like all of her customers. They all knew better than to
make conversation in a robe shop. Draco snapped at her every time she tried to work around
his sleeves and she quickly gave up, removing the pins and leaving the sleeves too long with
an annoyed huff. Ron wasn’t being much nicer, too busy glaring at the Malfoys, Madam
Malkin had to ask him to move his arms up or down more than once before he listened to her.
The Malfoys left first and the moment Draco and Narcissa stepped outside, Theo quickly
squeezed her hand.
“Everything ready?” Sirius asked after a few moments. Ron had his new robes on his hands
and both Harry and Theo were trying to balance all of their new purchases. Hermione offered
her purse to them.
“Oh thank you, Hermione, I love you, Theo said, dumping his many bags inside her
Extendable purse. Harry did the same but without the sentiment.
Ron tried to put his bag inside as well, but Hermione pulled her bag back, “Oh sorry Ron, it
will be such a hassle to find and get your stuff out,” she said. “With theirs, I will just dump
everything on the bed once we get home.”
“Oh, okay.” He replied. “No worries. I can carry it. It’s not heavy."
She nodded and stepped away from him without being too obvious. Not on purpose, she
found herself next to Sirius again, this time it was him who looped their arms.
“Breaking hearts?” He asked her.
“Hardly.”
“That's illegal,” Sirius mentioned, pointing at her bag.
“Aunt Cissy gave it to me.”
“Of course she did.”
Outside, they met with the others. Mr Weasley was almost drowned by books and they
quickly picked theirs, helping the man out. Harry put his books inside his backpack, but Theo
smiled crookedly at her and she sighed, offering her bag once more.
“Oh Love, I really love you,” he said and Hermione frowned. Ron made a weird sound that
had Harry asking him if there was something stuck in his throat and even offered to thump
his back for him. Ron scowled and said he was fine.
Theo only grinned and winked at her.
“What are you doing?” She hissed at him.
“Someone is getting too eyesy.”
"That's not a word Theodore,”
“It is. I just used letters in the English alphabet, used an existing English word with a suffix
that changes nouns into adjectives.”
Someone snorted around them.
“I'm just saying someone is looking too much.” He told her in a low voice, “And you are not
available for all this looking.”
“Wow,” someone said and they almost stumbled on the ones in front of them. Hermione
looked up and found the twins’ shop. Their windows hit the eye like a firework display. The
left-hand window was dazzlingly full of an assortment of goods that revolved, popped,
flashed, bounced and shrieked; There was so much going on at the same time, Hermione felt
lost. The right-hand window was covered with a gigantic poster, purple like those of the
Ministry, but emblazoned with flashing yellow letters: Why Are You Worrying About You-
Know-Who? You SHOULD Be Worrying About U-NO-POO –the Constipation Sensation
That’s Gripping the Nation!
“This is insane,” Theo muttered, “they are insane.”
“Insanely brilliant, that’s what they are,” Blaise replied, “Let's go. Let’s check it out.”
“Twenty minutes!” Remus reminded them.
It was packed with customers and Hermione quickly held onto Blaise’s hand to not get lost.
Harry and Ron disappeared in seconds. Hermione could barely get near the shelves to better
see the products, but she could recognise many things from the twins last year, their
prototypes which were extensively tested against Umbridge.
Theo had his backpack open in front of him - and empty because he had dropped every
purchase inside hers - and Blaise was quickly throwing things inside. Self-inking quills,
spell-checking quills, nosebleed pills.
“Zabini you are supposed to pack the products after paying for them!” One of the twins
called as they passed, Harry was with them.
“Easier to carry this way!” Blaise called back, “See you at the counter!”
“Actually,” The other twin said, “Come up here, I have something to show you.”
Not wasting a second, Blaise rushed to them, dragging Hermione by the hand with him and
Theo. Ron, who was paying attention to the twins until their arrival, turned his focus to
Hermione’s and Blaise’s interlocked fingers.
“I was telling Harry here about our Defence Against the Dark Arts section,” Fred Weasley
told them, “Your mother was the one signing this for us. I didn’t know I was working with
her until I saw your surname in the mail.” He pointed to a shelf that had boxes of something
called Instant Darkness Powder, “Came from Peru. Handy if you want to make a quick
escape.”
Hermione wondered if there was a single thing Blaise’s mum didn’t do.
At that, Blaise grabbed five from the shelf. The twins laughed. Ron’s nose twitched.
“And our Decoy Detonators are just walking off the shelves, look,” Fred pointed at several
weird-looking black hooter-type objects that were indeed attempting to scurry out of sight.
“You just drop one surreptitiously and it’ll run off and make a nice loud noise out of sight,
giving you a diversion if you need one.”
Once more, Blaise threw some inside.
The twins gave some to Harry and the boy grinned in appreciation.
They had staff, Hermione was impressed to see, who called them to help with a customer.
George, grinning at her, “Next to the window Hermione, the WonderWitch products, I’d keep
an eye open if I were you.” He winked and followed his brother.
Blaise and Theo found it thrilling and pulled her to check whatever it was. She was wary at
the sight of the array of violently pink products around which a cluster of excited girls was
giggling enthusiastically.
“Love potions!” Blaise grinned and began examining them carefully.
Ginny was there eyeing him suspiciously. “Do you think they even work?”
“Do you not trust your brother?”
“Never,” She replied.
“That's too bad, isn’t it?” Fred asked, having returned already. “They do work. For up to
twenty-four hours at a time depending on the weight of the boy in question the attractiveness
of the girl.”
“But we’re not selling them to our sister,” George, also returned, added. “Not when she’s
already got about five boys on the go from what we’ve–”
“Whatever you’ve heard from Ron is a big fat lie,’ Ginny calmly, not even blushing at the
insinuation. “What’s this?” She asked instead.
“Guaranteed Ten-Second Pimple Vanisher,” Fred explained, “Excellent on everything from

boils to blackheads, but don’t change the subject. Are you or are you not currently going out
with a boy called Dean Thomas?”
“Yes, I am,” Ginny replied. “And last time I looked, he was definitely one boy, not five. What
are those?”
Hermione snorted.
“Pygmy Puffs,” said George. “Miniature puffskeins, we can’t breed them fast enough. So
what about Michael Corner?”
“I dumped him, he was a bad loser,”
“I could have told you that Weasley,” Blaise said with a wink.
“Oh,” Fred said gleefully, getting a bit too close to Theo, “Are we sharing now?”
Blaise’s flirtatious smile became a snarl pretty quickly after that. “No. We are not.”
Theo leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Weasleys don’t seem to realise when someone is
not available.” He told her, and she giggled.
“They’re really cute.” Ginny continued, ignoring the boys.
“They’re fairly cuddly, yes,” Fred conceded. “But you’re moving through boyfriends a bit
fast, aren’t you?”
Hermione bit down her lip and watched as Ginny embodied Mrs Weasley perfectly with the
look she gave her brother. “It’s none of your business. And I’ll thank you,” the girl added
angrily to Ron, who had just appeared at George’s elbow, “not to tell tales about me to these
two!”
Fred, taking notice of Ron laden with merchandise, said “That’s three Galleons, nine Sickles
and a Knut”
“I’m your brother!” He retorted. But not before taking a glance at Theo’s backpack which
was overflowing with things Blaise had thrown inside.
“And that’s our stuff you’re nicking. Three Galleons, nine Sickles. I’ll knock off the Knut.”
His ears got red as he replied, “But I haven’t got three Galleons, nine Sickles!”
“You’d better put it all back then, and mind you put it on the right shelves.”
He swore and scowled at Hermione’s friends, as though it was their fault he didn’t have any
money.
Mrs Weasley had just appeared and Hermione, not in the mood to deal with the woman,
tugged Theo and Blaise towards the cashier. “Pay for your things and let’s meet Remus and
Sirius.”
“Yes, my lady,” the pair echoed.

“Stop flirting with me!” She hissed.
“Oh but Granger, it’s so fun.” Blaise retorted. “It’s cute that he thinks he has a chance.”
“Draco punched him, did you know?”
“He did what, now?”
Theo grinned. “When you were at the Hospital Wing. Draco went there to see you and found
Weasley there. Punched him. Had half a hex out when your dad got to him.”
“My knight,” Hermione said sarcastically.
Blaise paid, a total of seven galleons that would leave Ron Weasley burning in rage.
“All set?” Remus asked when they left the shop and they nodded. “Where’s your brother?”
“Still inside with the Weasleys.”
“I will get him,” Sirius said, “we should better head back.”
Remus asked what they had gotten and Blaise gave inventory. A few minutes passed and then
a few more. Her heart dropped when she saw the very-anxious expression on Remus’ face.
Sirius was returning with Mrs Weasley in toll. “Where is he?” Remus asked.
“Can’t find him anywhere,” Sirius replied, his voice clipped. “We couldn’t find Ron as well.”
“Fuck.” Remus swore and ignored Mrs Weasley's reprimanding look. “I will take them
home,” Remus announced, grabbing hold of Hermione and Theo in each hand. He was
looking so stern that Blaise was smart enough to step closer to him. “Find him.”
Sirius nodded.
Remus pulled them with him back to the Leaky Cauldron. His eyes were golden and she
noticed that he was sniffing around, trying to find Harry with his werewolf senses.
No one dared to say anything when he stopped in front of the Floo and ordered them to go
home. “Stay there.”
They nodded and one after the other Flooed home.
“Fuck,” Blaise swore, “he always has to pull some shit, hasn’t he?”
“Fucking Gryffindors,” Theo muttered.
“Did he have his Cloak?” Hermione asked. “Did you see if he had it with him?”
“Yes,” Theo replied, “He's carrying it around all the time.”
Hermione sighed angrily. “He's so irresponsible.”

It wasn’t long before the Floo flared again and Remus appeared.
“Nothing?” They asked together.
“Sirius has him,” Remus replied. “Took him to Grimmauld.”
“Yell at him without the lot of you around.”
“What did he do?”
“Sneaked off under his Cloak with Ron to spy on your boyfriend,” Remus replied, pointing at
her. “They saw Draco hurrying up towards Knockturn Alley.”
“I will kill him!” Hermione hissed.
“Which one?” Theo asked warily.
“Both of them!” She said, stomping to her room.
Hours later, someone knocked on her door and Harry announced himself. She let him in and
glared at the mere sight of him. How dare he look sheepishly?
Harry told her what he had seen in Knockturn Alley and her glare only deepened.
“And what?” She snapped.
“He’s up to something and I think we should take it seriously.” He told her. Hermione
scowled, “His father’s a Death Eater and–”
“I know exactly what Lucius is.” Hermione bit back.
“Hermione, you didn’t see what I saw.”
“You shouldn’t have seen it!” Hermione reprimanded him, “You shouldn’t have run off!
Everyone there to keep you safe and you throw everyone’s caution to the wind to spy on my
boyfriend? Again?”
“He was being fishy—”
“He is fishy!” She snapped, “And it’s none of your business.”
“So what? Do you think it’s fine to give his mother the slip and sneak off to Knockturn to do
business in the shadiest shop there? Borgin looked scared of him! Why would Borgin be
scared of Malfoy?”
“I don’t know! And most importantly, you don’t know. They are on our side, Harry. All of
them. But we are at war and Voldemort is living under their roof, you don’t get to doubt them
and fucking bring Ron with you!”
“Ron being there was your biggest issue? Not your boyfriend doing business at Borgin and
Burkes?”
“Yes!” She snapped. “Because as it happens, I trust Draco and I most certainly don’t trust
Ronald!”
Harry rolled his eyes, “Ron is—”
“Your best friend. And that’s it. He hates my friends. All of them. He can’t be civil with Theo
and Blaise, he’s openly hostile to Pansy. I want him nowhere near Draco.”
“You saw too, didn’t you?”
“What?”
“The way he didn’t want Madam Malkin to touch his sleeve and—”
“You stop right there.” She warned him. Something ticked inside of her.
He glared at her. “That's what got you all so defensive, isn’t it? You are thinking it too.”
“Harry, I’m being serious.”
“He’s a Death Eater,” Harry said slowly. “He’s replaced his father as a Death Eater!”
“Get out!”
“She didn’t touch him, but he yelled and jerked his arm away from her when she went to roll
up his sleeve. It was his left arm. He’s been branded with the Dark Mark.”
“I SAID GET OUT!"
But Harry wasn’t backing down, “Malfoy showed Borgin something we couldn’t see,” he
pressed on stubbornly. “Something that seriously scared him. It was the Mark, I know it – he
was showing Borgin who he was dealing with, Borgin took him seriously!”
Hermione got her wand and threw a stinging hex at him. Harry jumped and glared at her but
then something he saw made him pause.
“Hermione…” he called tentatively.
She could feel her magic crackling, her heart was pounding in her chest and it made her ears
buzz.
“Get out.” She threw her bedside lamp at him. He swerved and it hit the door next to his
head.
Someone shouted from the living room.
Harry walked towards the door but didn’t turn his back on her. He was angry too, she could
see it clearly in the challenging tilt of his head, “Avis!” She cast and a flock of birds appeared
between them. A warning.
Much like Sirius, Harry didn’t know how to quit. “I hope you know you are defending a
Death Eater.” He said.
“Oppugno!”
The birds flew at him, speeding like bullets after him. Harry yelped and knocked backwards
at the wall across from her room.
“HERMIONE!” Remus yelled, “Finite!” The birds disappeared and she found Harry’s arms
all red and his shirt torn from where the birds had pecked and clawed at him. “Get out of
here,” Remus told Harry, pushing him away from Hermione’s view. She was still seething.
“Did you see what she did?” Harry asked, pointing a finger at her. “I’m bleeding.”
“I see it,” Remus replied, but he had half his attention on her, who was having a hell of a hard
time trying to control her magic. “Go get that cleaned up.”
Harry left with a kick to her door and a scowl.
Remus entered her room and closed the door behind him. He walked towards her and kneeled
on the floor in front of her. “Hey, breathe.” He told her, holding her knees. “Breathe,
Hermione.”
She shuddered and exhaled. She looked at him and he quickly became blurry. She sat back on
the bed. “I guess I’m evil after all,” Hermione said, her voice low.
“No,” he told her. “We've been through this once. You are not evil. You will never be evil.”
“You saw what I just did. To my brother.”
“I did. But that doesn’t make you evil.”
“Maybe not.” She shrugged, “But keeping Rita Skeeter in a jar for months, deforming
Marietta Edgecomb’s face, leading Umbridge to a giant but being glad that the centaurs found
her knowing that they would probably kill her… Those might.”
Remus paused and Hermione wondered if he was rethinking it.
“You can be vicious when those you love are in danger, but you are not evil.”
“He accused Draco—”
“We heard.”
"I just saw him, he—He looked terrible, and I promised him he’d get away from that, I—he
didn’t want it. If he has it—” her voice cracked. Hermione felt her ribs splintering. How
many times had she worshipped Draco’s body? How many times had she looked at him and
thought him to be perfection?
And now Voldemort had branded him.
“Hermione, you better than everyone else knows that the world isn’t split into good people
and Death Eaters,”
“That's Sirius’ quote.”
He gave her a small smile and climbed onto the bed next to her, pulling Hermione to his side.
“Yeah, that therapist of his is quite good.”
“He will hate me for attacking Harry,”
“No, pup.” Remus shook his head, “Sirius could never hate you.”
“Fine.” She snapped. “He will be angry with me then.”
“No.” He shook his head again, “he’s angry at Harry for saying the things he said.” She threw
a confused look at him, Remus chuckled, “You will soon find there’s virtually nothing you
can do to make him angry at you these days.”
“I don’t understand.”
Remus sighed, but he explained. “In the most basic sense of the word, we only get to live
once. We get one life and that's it. But you gave Sirius a second life the day you went back in
time to rescue him. And then you gave him a third one when you brought him back. Sirius
has learned his lesson with you, pup. Well, not to give him all the glory, but it's the same for
any of us, for that matter. You might have literally saved his life twice now, but me, Severus,
Narcissa and Lucius… You saved our lives in different ways, by just touching us. You
changed us with your presence and it changed our lives. The people we became because of
you have changed the course of the war forever.”
“I cause so much trouble.” She whined and he chuckled.
“You do. And we love you even more for it.” He replied. Remus sighed, “What did Regulus
tell Sirius to do when the two of you were with them?” with them, as if they had been over
for a visit.
“To trust Narcissa.”
“Exactly. He said to always trust Narcissa. And besides, he knows what Lucius did for you.
Do you remember the curse Dolohov fired at you?” Hermione nodded, how couldn’t she?
Now she had a monstrous purple scar on her side, “It would have killed you. You survived
not only because Dolohov cast it non-verbally, but also because Lucius’ shield softened the
impact.” Remus said and tentatively added, “Even if Draco has received the mark,”
Hermione shuddered, “Harry shouldn’t have approached it the way he did.”
“Why would they want him?” Hermione asked, tears in his eyes, “he's just sixteen."
Before Remus could reply, there was a knock on her door. Remus kissed the top of her head
before walking towards the door to see who it was.
“How is she?” She heard Sirius ask.
“Fine.” Remus replied, “Upset. Harry?”
“He’s sorry. I bit his head off before we came here and you know his temper…” Remus
nodded, “He wants to apologise.” Remus looked behind him, at Hermione who was still
holding her legs against her chest.
She didn’t react, but Remus turned back to Sirius and said, “Maybe later.”
“All right.” Sirius said with a sigh, “The boys are upset as well. Draco is their best friend too.
I think it’s better if we give them a day?”
Remus nodded, “Are you thinking of taking Harry to the Burrow?”
“Fuck no.” Sirius replied, “We want him to calm down and understand that even if Draco has
the mark, it doesn’t mean he’s automatically evil, not undergo Molly Weasley’s high horse
discourse.”
“Grimmauld?”
“Yeah, with me. Let him talk to Reggie a bit.”
“Okay,” Remus replied and closed the door again.
“He could apologise now,” Hermione said, “I'm not hexing him again.”
“I know. I didn’t say that because I thought you would. But because I think you should do
some thinking of your own before you talk to Harry again.” He told her, “I stand by what I
said, I don’t think you are evil, but you cannot react like this, Hermione. You are a Slytherin,
which means there are no limits to what you can do to protect those you love, but I don’t
want you doing something that you can’t come back from. With neither of them.”
Hermione nodded. She understood his meaning because while her brother was the self-
sacrificing type, Hermione was the ‘I-will-sacrifice-you’ type. Remus had said it himself:
there were no limits to what she could do for the people she loved. And she would not be
hearing any goodbyes, because she had said those back in June and she had hated it.
Remus may have seen something in her expression because he sighed, but his eyes were
fond, “I got you this,” he told her and pulled out a package from his robes. “A better place to
keep everything Severus has been giving you.”
She grabbed it and saw Remus had bought her a roll-up vial holder like those Madam
Pomfrey had. It had several pockets and different compartments for organisation. It was made
of dragon hide leather, it must have cost a fortune. Hermione looked up with wide eyes. She
knew he didn’t have a lot of money and that he hated using Sirius’ money for anything that
wasn’t for their home. He had bought this with his own money.
“Remus…”
“An early birthday gift.” He replied and before she could argue, he left her room.
That night, after she had organised everything yet again, Theo and Blaise sneaked into her
room and the three of them squeezed themselves under the covers in her bed.
They didn’t need to say anything, but Draco was the only thing on their mind.
Harry and Sirius returned by morning. Hermione and the boys hadn’t even left the bed when
Harry knocked on her door.
Sirius was the animagus, but Harry did know how to look like a dog with his tail between his
legs.
“Heathcliff,” Theo greeted in passing and Harry winced. The similarity was indeed
staggering.
Blaise didn’t bother with anything on his way out.
“I'm sorry,” Harry said at once. “Shit, Hermione. I’m sorry. I regretted the moment I said it. I
was just—” he sighed, “scared.”
“Scared?”
“I know I’ve had fewer chances to prove it compared to you, but I’m terrified of losing you.”
He told her. “I trashed Dumbledore’s office, did you know that?” Hermione shook her head.
She was learning that a lot had happened during the time she was in the Hospital Wing. “For
thirty minutes I thought you were dead. You and Sirius. I lost it. I broke everything he owned,
turned desks and chairs and Hermione, had he not told me you and Sirius were alive, I
wouldn’t have stopped. You are in danger as it is because of me because I’m a reckless and
stubborn Gryffindor and I’m always going headfirst into things. But you terrify me,
Hermione, because you do the things you do after thinking and considering the
consequences. You had a hard time hearing bad things about Lucius Malfoy even before he
did the things he did. You defended him knowing what he was capable of. I—Hermione, I'm
terrified that you would take the mark for Draco if it meant he would escape it.”
Hermione looked away.
“You would,” Harry said, his voice very low.
“Voldemort wants my head a little bit less than he wants yours,” she replied, “you don’t need
to worry about that.”
“No,” he replied, “which is worse in a way,” he said. “You took an Imperius and went
through torture to spare me, but when that didn’t work, you took revenge.” At that, her eyes
glinted and he nodded. “I know you. Dumbledore knows to look over his shoulder if you are
behind him. But it’s Voldemort, Hermione.”
“And he has taken too many from me.” She said.

“From us.” Harry amended.
In the end, there wasn’t anything to forgive. Just an agreement to reach.
Their last day together before they had to return to Hogwarts was bittersweet.
Although the war had been a constant topic of conversation during the summer, they had
managed to pretend, to let laughter and mischief carry their days instead of the gloominess
and the whispered conversations they had to pretend to not overhear behind closed doors.
Their trunks were packed and ready by the Floo, Hermione was petting Crookshanks
goodbye, having decided that she’d leave him with Sirius and Remus as they needed
someone to take care of other than themselves. Sirius and Remus were sitting outside, sharing
a cigarette between them, from where the teenagers sat, they could only see their backs and
the smoke. Sirius was leaning onto Remus’ side, who had an arm around Sirius’ waist. It was
a lovely sight.
Hermione wondered who was going to miss the other the most. The ones going to Hogwarts
or the ones staying.
“Come here,” Harry said with a wicked grin, tugging on Hermione’s wrist, pulling her up
from the sofa and motioning Theo and Blaise to follow him.
They did because as much as Slytherin didn’t start the trouble, they loved to follow when
others started it. Quietly, they left the living room and went down the hall, Harry didn’t stop
at any of the first three doors, instead going to the one at the very end. The one Hermione had
yet to enter.
“What are you doing?” Hermione hissed.
“Seeing the three of you this morning gave me an idea.” He said, “I never got to share a bed
before.” Hermione’s eyes softened at the confession,
“You just turned sixteen,” Blaise said, “Are we really going for a sleepover at the parents’
bed?”
Harry nodded. “Well, I got my first bed at twelve, so I am a bit late for a few things.”
And that was enough for Hermione.
Their room was very much theirs. There were books scattered all around: by the bedside
table, on the shelves, on top of the dresser under a sweater. There was a guitar that Hermione
doubted either of them knew how to play. There were two boxes by the corner under the
window with dozens of vinyl inside. Sirius’ leather jacket was thrown over the armchair and
Remus’ favourite brown pair of trousers was on top of it.
They had all stopped to look around, this small part of their home they had yet to conquer.
But now they had. Harry climbed on the bed and Hermione climbed after him. The other two
followed right after.
Hermione placed her head on Theo’s chest, Harry curled around her, hugging her middle
from behind and Blaise squeezed himself between Theo and Hermione, hugging one of her
legs.
“Oh, this is cosy,” Blaise said. Hermione couldn’t quite see him, but she could see his head
and Theo’s fingers cradling his hair.
“See! I knew it had potential.”
“Isn’t it weird, though?” Blaise asked, “If we think about it… Professor Snape is dating my
mum, which makes Hermione my step-sister, I’m dating Theo, who was technically adopted
by Hermione’s godfather, which makes him technically Hermione’s step-brother. And since
Sirius and Remus are together, it also kind of gives Sirius some parental thingy with Theo,
and Sirius is Harry’s godfather, who’s Draco’s cousin, who’s Hermione’s boyfriend. I’m
certain Theo and Draco are somewhat related—”
“Please, do shut up,” Theo said.
They all giggled.
But Harry very softly added, “And if Hermione’s dad is my dad too, that also makes me your
step-brother, Blaise.”
“Thank Salazar only half of us are actually blood-related because it would be even more
incestuous than the Black family.”
“And that’s saying a lot,” The other three said at once.
They laughed again and before they knew it, they were asleep.
There were tears at the platform, hugs, a reminder to not get into trouble (Harry), one to
behave (Hermione), one to not purposely provoke others (Theo) and one to not make people
cry (Blaise). They promised to write and that they’d see each other for Christmas.
Mrs Weasley called for Harry, Hermione and Sirius rolled their eyes at once, and Remus had
to remind her yet again to behave.
Once inside the train, Theo had to report to the Prefects compartment, where they heard
Pansy greet him with a “What the hell are you doing here?”, sniggering, Blaise and Hermione
went to secure a compartment for them. Daphne had found them on the way.
“We are dropping like flies,” Blaise commented as he stretched his legs across the large
bench, unceremoniously dropping his backpack on the table between them. “Pansy and Theo
are at the Prefects compartment, Draco is playing evil with Vince and Greg.”
Hermione rolled her eyes, “They will be back in an hour.”

They were indeed back in an hour, and neither seemed very pleased. “Fucking nonsense, all
of that,” Pansy muttered and dropped on the seat next to Daphne.
“What happened?”
“They want us to mix,” Pansy said with a shiver. “I can’t partner up with Theo for rounds.”
“And by the way, did any of you learn why Draco stepped down?” Daphne asked.
Pansy scoffed, “He said he wanted to focus more on his studies. Utter bullshit, we all know.”
They didn’t have time to talk much, as a third year interrupted them to deliver a piece of
parchment to Hermione and Blaise.
“What now?” Pansy asked.
“Professor Slughorn wants to have lunch with us.”
“What?” Daphne asked, “Why?”
Hermione shrugged.
“The Slug Club,” Theo answered. “He had it during his years. A social club for his favourite
students.”
“Favourite? We haven’t even met him.” Hermione replied.
“But he certainly has heard of you. And of Blaise’s mum.” Theo replied. “He's recruiting. Bet
ten galleons that your brother is going to be there.”
Hermione sighed and nudged Blaise, “Let's go.”
Daphne was sniggering, “Dropping like flies.”
Theo made money with his bet because Harry was there. Alongside Neville and Ginny. There
were two seventh-years as well, a Gryffindor and a Ravenclaw.
Slughorn introduced them all - he seemed ecstatic that Harry knew most of the people there -
and was more than happy to tell them about the many accomplishments their family members
had achieved in their time. Apparently, Blaise’s mum was the reason why Professor Slughorn
still had hair on his head.
He seemed unbothered by the fact he was saying to Harry’s face how much he appreciated
that Lily, his favourite student, had concocted something - Hermione - with Severus, another
favourite of his because those two were unstoppable when paired together.
It was a very long afternoon, with more anecdotes about illustrious wizards Professor
Slughorn had taught, all of whom had been delighted to join what he called the ‘Slug Club’ at
Hogwarts. Blaise was almost dozing off next to her. He didn’t seem much bothered with
whether they were actually good at school, provided that they had the surnames he found
interesting.
The sun was setting outside when he let them go. “So, we all agree he’s a bit mad, huh?”
Ginny asked when they were far enough from Professor Slughorn’s compartment.
They all nodded. “I don’t think anyone sane would agree to teach us.” Blaise added, “See you
at the next Slug Club meeting, my dears. I need to inform my boyfriend that he has yet
another reason to be proud.”
Hermione frowned, “Why's that?”
“He wasn’t invited. Adeodatus was a member of the Club. Tsk, tsk. Theo keeps disappointing
that old fuck.” Blaise replied, faking a disappointed tone.
Hermione snorted. “You do that,” She said, “I’m going to say hi to Luna. I haven’t seen her
since…” She trailed off.
Blaise nodded and Hermione turned to follow the Gryffindors.
It wasn’t like Hermione was friends with Ginny, Neville and Luna, but after going through
what they had gone through at the Department of Mysteries, she wanted to see for herself the
girl, just so she could be assured that she was fine.
Luna was with Ron, who quickly asked them what the whole thing was about. He seemed a
bit put off that he hadn’t been invited.
Ginny was quick to reassure her brother that he wasn’t missing anything by not being invited
and Luna made a comment that was very similar to the one Blaise had made before living,
“Daddy told me that his brother had been on the club. I don’t think there’s a surname more
influential than theirs.”
“I don’t know how influential one can be from the inside of Azkaban,” Ron said with a
scowl.
Hermione was going to follow Remus’ request.
“Very,” Luna said, not noticing or choosing to ignore Ron’s malicious tone. “He's the only
one allowed visitors from the eleven Death Eaters who were sent to Azkaban.”
“Who would want to visit him in Azkaban?” Ron asked.
Harry, who needed to learn to keep his observations to himself, noted, “You are quiet,”
Ron snorted, “Of course, she just found out that her boyfriend is a Death Eater.” He said
meanly.
Hermione wasn’t going to follow Remus’ request.

She didn’t think twice. She flicked her wand at him and cast a hex that’d leave his mouth
glued together for a long while. Or until he got the counter-curse. They still had to learn
nonverbal spells so she knew it’d take a while.
He tried to make noises and his face was as red as his hair, he didn’t need his voice for
Hermione to know that he was irate.
She got up to leave, why did she think that sitting with Ron Weasley would result in a
pleasant encounter? Weren’t the previous five years enough?
Hermione was already out of the compartment when Harry got up from his own shock and
made to follow her.
“No.” She said to him and closed the compartment door almost in his face.
It didn’t take long for her to find her friends, this time, Draco was with them.
“That was quick,” Blaise joked and snorted when he caught her expression. “Let me guess,
Weasel?”
“What do you think?” Hermione replied.
Draco was at the outer side of the bench, so she sidled him and he looked up. She knew his
face well enough to recognise the signs. He was worried about something. Hermione rested a
hand on his neck, pressing her thumb down on the junction between his shoulder and neck.
He leaned into her touch and she dragged her thumb up to the side of his neck up to his hair,
while her hand cupped his cheek. She smiled when he nuzzled her palm. “Can I talk to you?”
She asked.
“Ew!” Pansy said with a fake shudder. “Don’t flirt in front of us and announce it to the
room.”
Hermione merely rolled her eyes.
Draco ignored Pansy completely and turned to reply to her question. “Of course,”
He got up and pulled her by the hand towards the next car, one that was similar to the one she
had been in.
Of course, there wasn’t an empty compartment for them, but Draco didn’t even have to ask
when he saw two small girls in Slytherin uniforms in one of them, they quickly left when he
opened the door.
Hermione closed, locked it and cast silencing spells around them.
Draco raised a curious eyebrow at her.
She got into his personal space and he was quick to circle her waist with his arm, drawing her
in. His left arm was hanging on his side. It broke her heart. Hermione plastered a smile and
placed both arms around his neck, her hands finding grip on his hair. She went on her tiptoes
for a kiss and Draco easily complied. They kissed lazily, tenderly, because they could and
they had time.
They pulled their mouths apart but kept locked on one another.
“Tell me Draco.” She said and saw his face change and the way he tried to pull away from
her. Hermione didn’t let him. “Not the two of us. Remember? Tell me and I will tell you that
it’s still the two of us. We will figure it out.”
He worked his jaw and his mouth twitched. A barely-there shake of his head before he leaned
forward again and kissed her one more time.
He hugged her tighter and hid his face on her shoulder.
“I didn’t want it.” He confessed, “It hurt like hell and it burned and it’s so fucking ugly
because it knew that I didn’t want it.” His voice shook and Hermione noticed that his entire
body was shaking too. “It was a punishment for my father’s failure. It was accepting a
mission or having my mother receive a Cruciatus for every single day my father had spent in
Azkaban and then more for each new day. I couldn’t allow it. Hermione, I couldn’t let my
mum—”
“I know, I know.” She said and massaged his hair. “I know Draco. Is she safe now?”
“I have to believe that she is,”
“What is your mission?” She asked and he shook his head.
“I can’t say.”
“Draco.”
“Hermione, I really can’t say.” He told her. “There was a vow.”
Her arms and hands tensed around him. Hermione exploded when angry, but when there was
rage, oh, Hermione wore it in dangerous stillness, in quietness and tension so deadly and
precise that if she practised, if she nurtured, she’d be able to use it to rip the world apart with
her fury.
“Show me.”
He shook his head and hid his arm behind his back.
“Draco Malfoy,” Hermione warned.
“Why do you want to see it?” He hissed, “It's fucking ugly.” Hermione reached for his arm
and he pulled away taking a step back. He glared at her.
She glared back. “I was going to hold your hand.”
“I don’t want you to touch it.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “So what? Because you have this on your arm, you won't
touch me anymore? I won’t get to hold your hand?”
“Not the left one.”
“Don't be ridiculous.” She snapped. “I won’t have half a side of you.”
“If I didn’t know that you’d hex my balls, I’d keep you away entirely.”
“Try Draco.” She told him. "I'd like to see you try.”
“How can you?” He asked her. “This.” He motioned the covered arm, “How can you even
look at me knowing that I have it in me now? I remember what you said, that you would be
by my side as long as I walked away from it.” He scoffed, “Fucking kneeled for it.”
“You didn’t want it.” She said, simply. “There is not an inch of me who thinks any less of you
because of it. I know who you are Draco and I’m never leaving your side.” She reached for
him again. Once more, he pulled his arm away.
“I don’t want to taint you with this,” he told her.
“Okay.” She said and with a raised eyebrow began untucking her shirt from the inside of her
jeans. On their last train ride, they had been quite desperate and no clothes had been removed,
so he hadn’t seen it yet. She lifted her shirt and showed him the purple scar on her side. At
once, he moved to touch her and she quickly stepped out of reach. “No, I don’t want to taint
you with this.”
He glared at her. “Don't be ridiculous Granger, this was—”
“Inflicted on me. Like yours was on you. It’s a scar. A fucking ugly one at that. Does it make
me ugly?”
“Of course not.” And he reached for her again, this time with both hands and she went
willingly. “You mad, absurd girl.” He hissed against her lips, both hands now holding her
face. “Who did that?”
“Dolohov.”
“I will burn him.”
“I will set the fire.”

pale as a ghost in the afternoon
Chapter Notes
Aaand they are back at Hogwarts!!
Thank you for the comments in the last chapter, I hope you enjoy this one as well!
tragedy has a hold of my mind

but I can see the light between the lines
and I said, "You've got to listen, I'm a songbird with a brand-new track
you underestimate"
Chapter Sixty-Two
Remus’ picture arrived before the train. At the back, a we are fighting for them written in
Remus’ calligraphy. At the front, the four teenagers sleeping together, limbs interlocked and
peaceful expressions on their faces.
It was good that the picture arrived before the train, for the Head Girl had sent an owl ahead
informing him that his daughter had cursed Ron Weasley on the train.
Minerva was next to him, trying to contain her glee about his daughter being such a
tremendous troublemaker.
“Do control yourself,” he snapped at her. Minerva was waiting the first years, while he
waited for Hermione.
“Oh Severus, she is brilliant, but that temper of hers… Are you sure you and Narcissa didn’t
leave a drop or two of Lily’s blood?”
Severus sighed. Sometimes he wondered the same.
He watched as Hermione entered the castle with her friends. Her eyes fell on him quickly,
and she made her way towards him, “Hello Professor McGonagall. Dad.”
“Hello, Miss Granger,” Minerva replied pleasantly.
“Tell me,” he began, “why are you starting the year in detention and losing five points to
Slytherin?”
“A disagreement.” She replied.

“Curious.” He said, “As the report informed me Mr Weasley was unable to speak. I wonder
how he managed to disagree with you with his mouth sealed together.”
Minerva stifled a laugh, disguising it as a cough.
“I believe Remus had a very simple request from you.”
She glared. “Well, Dad, since you are Remus are such good penpals, he might have
mentioned that I was even less agreeable with my brother, so I think that, within my limits, I
followed his request quite well.”
Remus had indeed mentioned it. This was why he had told Draco before the return to not
reveal anything about his mission to Hermione.
“Well, my daughter, detention tomorrow after dinner.”
Minerva coughed. “To attack another student is an infraction that warrants a minimum of
three-day detention.” She reminded him.
Hermione didn’t seem much bothered. After all, her detention was with him. “You heard
Professor McGonagall.”
“See you then,” Hermione said with a nod. “Good evening, Professor.”
“Good evening, Miss Granger,” Minerva replied and when Hermione entered the Great Hall
she patted Severus on the arm. “Good job, Severus.”
“Quiet.”
“She really drawls the dad, doesn’t she?” Minerva commented. “Another one and you would
be awarding her points instead of giving her detention.”
“I am aware.” He replied curtly. Minerva was deeply amused. “Guess who has done the same
already.”
Minerva fully laughed then, “Oh Severus, I see you are as feared as Pomona now.”
He glared at her, “Not everyone is lucky enough to have the entire castle witnessing you
stand against four stunners.”
“It boosted morale, indeed.” Minerva agreed. “Oh, look who’s coming. I will take it from
here.” She said and walked towards Hagrid and the first years.
Blaise found it all very entertaining, “And then you wonder why you didn’t get Prefect!” He
laughed, serving himself some chicken legs, “Three-day detention and five points before
even stepping foot on the castle.”
“Technically, I got all of that when I step foot on the castle.”

“I can’t believe you hexed him when none of us could see it,” Pansy commented, “So much
for friendship.”
“I doubt it that will be the last time,” Theo said. “She's got momentum now. “First Harry,
now Weasley…”
“You hexed Potter?” Some fifth-year asked.
“Thanks, Theodore.” She glared.
And before she could even attempt to explain herself, Dumbledore got to his feet at the staff
table. As always, everyone quieted down to listen to him. “The very best of evenings to you!”
he greeted, smiling broadly and his arms opened wide as though to embrace the whole room.
“What happened to his hand?” Hermione asked lowly, but some students hadn’t been so
discreet at seeing Dumbledore’s right hand blackened and dead-looking.
The Headmaster, who quickly noted the direction their attention had gone, merely smiled and
shook his purple and gold sleeve over his injury. “Nothing to worry about,” he said. “Now…
To our new students, welcome; to our old students, welcome back! Another year full of
magical education awaits you…”
Theo leaned in towards her, “Didn’t Harry say something about Dumbledore's hand being
injured over the summer?” He whispered and she nodded.
“But I guessed he’d have cured it by now, though.” She replied. “And he didn’t say it looked
as if it’s died,” she retorted. Honestly, leave it to Harry to downplay something like that.
“But there are some injuries you can’t cure,” Blaise commented and Hermione thought back
to the purple scar now on her ribs, “old curses and of course, there are poisons without
antidotes.”
Dumbledore had moved on, reminding them of all of Filch’s requests which now included a
ban on any joke items bought at the shop called Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. There was some
scattered laughter around the hall. It was clear Blaise hadn’t been the only one to stock things
up.
“We are pleased to welcome a new member of staff this year. Professor Slughorn,” Slughorn
stood up, “is a former colleague of mine who has agreed to resume his old post of Potions
master.”
“Potions?” Hermione asked, looking straight at her father.
“Potions?” The word echoed all over the Hall as people wondered whether they had heard
right.
“Professor Snape, meanwhile,” Dumbledore continued, raising his voice so that it carried
over all the muttering, “will be taking over the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts
teacher.”
“No!” Harry retorted, so loudly that reached even the Slytherin table where she was. Theo
and Blaise snorted in amusement.
“He was so certain he wouldn’t be seeing Professor Snape this year,” Theo laughed.
Her father didn’t bother getting up, after all, the only ones to applaud had been the Slytherins
- not her. She was incensed, but not for the same reason Harry was. She glared at
Dumbledore. How could he? Everyone knew the job was jinxed. Before, when the rumour
was that Severus applied every year for the Defence position, Hermione thought Dumbledore
refused to give it to him to keep anything from happening to Severus. And given the streak
they had so far, Hermione even found that it was a good thing. Quirrel had died, Lockhart
ended up in St Mungos for life, everyone learned that Remus was a werewolf, Moody had
been captured before he could take the post and just last year…
She glared until Dumbledore moved on to heavier topics, “Now, as everybody in this Hall
knows, Lord Voldemort and his followers are once more at large and gaining in strength.”
The silence fell heavily on top of them like a blanket, “I cannot emphasise strongly enough
how dangerous the present situation is, and how much care each of us at Hogwarts must take
to ensure that we remain safe. The castle’s magical fortifications have been strengthened over
the summer, and we are protected in new and more powerful ways, but we must still guard
scrupulously against carelessness on the part of any student or member of staff. I urge you,
therefore, to abide by any security restrictions that your teachers might impose upon you,
however irksome you might find them – in particular, the rule that you are not to be out of
bed after hours. I implore you, should you notice anything strange or suspicious within or
outside the castle, to report it to a member of staff immediately. I trust you to conduct
yourselves, always, with the utmost regard for your own and each other’s safety.”
Some of her housemates grumbled in a complaint, not only about the restrictions but also in
clear disagreement.
“Stop glaring at the headmaster, Hermione.” Pansy whispered to her, “People are looking at
you.”
Hermione blinked and looked away, she found Draco a few seats down from where they
were, he looked busy floating a fork with his wand. Vince and Greg wore hateful expressions
on their faces and were saying something that from where she sat, she couldn’t hear. Draco
looked bored already.
The good thing about being sixth-year students was that since attendance depended on
whether or not you had passed your O.W.Ls, they could be very small with only top students
present. The next morning, when their Head of House walked down their table handing out
their timetables, he left the sixth-year students for last, as he needed to check whether they
could actually attend the classes they have signed up for.
She was the Slytherin with most subjects in her schedule, with all the six core subjects and
Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. Hermione and her friends shared a small smile when they
learned that they would be the only Slytherins in Transfiguration and History of Magic.
Thankfully, Hermione would only have two classes with Vince and Greg, which made things
much easier for her and Draco.
Their first class that morning was Ancient Runes, followed by Defence. They had many more
free periods this year, between dropping electives and failing their exams. Pansy was happy
to find she had only two classes on Mondays and that she had just one full day of classes.
Hermione and the boys left for Ancient Runes while Daphne scheduled naps during her free
periods.
Since no one had failed the exam, Ancient Runes still consisted of four Slytherins and four
Ravenclaws. Professor Babbling was happy to see that they had all returned to her class. As
always, it was a hard class, but they mainly worked in pairs, so Hermione could have Draco
by her side without any worry. And even with the fifteen-inch essay and the two translations
they had to read by Wednesday, she still found herself smiling after Draco pulled her for a
quick kiss once class was over.
Later, when they met with the others for Defence, Hermione saw quite the queue outside.
“How many are we?” She asked Pansy and Daphne, who were there already.
“I have no idea,” the raven-haired girl shrugged. “Everyone from our year that was in the
D.A. and a few others.”
“Salazar help us,” Daphne muttered, “if Professor Snape has to teach over twenty students at
once I think we won’t survive.”
“Hey,” Harry said, fighting his way through the crowd to where she was. He waved to the
others and even nodded in greeting at Draco. “Did you know this?” He asked her,
“About him teaching Defence?”
“No.” She replied, “I was as surprised as you were.”
Harry groaned. “I think he didn’t say anything on purpose.” He told her, “I even joked that he
wouldn’t have his least favourite student because no way in hell I’d get an Outstanding and
he agreed!”
“You didn’t get an Outstanding,” Pansy commented. “So he didn’t lie.” The classroom door
opened as she spoke and their professor stepped into the corridor, his eyes took quick note of
the number of people outside. Silence fell over the queue immediately.
“Inside,” he said.
Everyone seemed to be taking the classroom in as they entered. Thankfully, it wasn’t as pink
as it had been last year, but it did resemble his classrooms down in the dungeons. Curtains
had been drawn over the windows and the light they had came from candlelight. New
pictures adorned the walls, many of them showing people who appeared to be in pain,
sporting grisly injuries or strangely contorted body parts. Honestly.
Nobody spoke as they settled down, and Hermione opened her bag to remove her book.
“I have not asked you to take out your books,” he said, closing the door and moving to face
the class from behind his desk. Hermione glared at the desk in front of her, dropped her copy
of Confronting the Faceless back into her bag and stowed it under her chair. Honestly! “I
wish to speak to you and I want your fullest attention. You have had five teachers in this
subject so far, I believe. Naturally, these teachers will all have had their own methods and
priorities.” A pause and a very brave Blaise Zabini snorted, “Given this confusion I am
surprised so many of you scraped an O.W.L. in this subject. I shall be even more surprised if
all of you manage to keep up with the N.E.W.T. work, which will be much more advanced.”
Because they didn’t have the fumes of the cauldrons, it was much easier to keep following
him as he walked around the classroom. “The Dark Arts,” he resumed, “are many, varied,
ever-changing and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster, which,
each time a neck is severed, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before.” Hermione
smiled a little at the Greek mythology reference. “You are fighting that which is unfixed,
mutating, indestructible.” A bit less fondness for the Dark Arts would have done great for her
dad, but she listened as he went on, “Your defences must therefore be as flexible and
inventive as the Arts you seek to undo. These pictures give a fair representation of what
happens to those who suffer, for instance, the Cruciatus Curse,” his hand pointed towards a
witch who was clearly shrieking in agony, “feel the Dementor’s Kiss,” this time he showed
the picture of a wizard lying huddled and blank-eyed slumped against a wall, “or provoke the
aggression of the Inferius.”
Hermione stared at the picture of a bloody mass on the ground.
“Has an Inferius been seen, then?’ Parvati Patil asked. “Is it definite, is he using them?” She
didn’t need to clarify who was he.
“The Dark Lord has used Inferi in the past,’ he replied and Hermione thought of Regulus.
Gone, dragged under by the army Voldemort had created to keep his Horcrux safe. “Which
means you would be well-advised to assume he might use them again.” He said and returned
to his desk, “Now you are, I believe, complete novices in the use of non-verbal spells. What
is the advantage of a non-verbal spell?”
Hermione’s hand shot into the air. He made a clear point of ignoring her, looking at the rest of
the classroom before acknowledging her. “Very well – Miss Granger?”
“Your adversary has no warning about what kind of magic you’re about to perform which
gives you a split-second advantage.” She replied.
He raised an eyebrow at her. She knew him enough now to know he was amused, but for
others, he looked non-impressed. “An answer copied almost word for word from The
Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6,” he replied. Draco sniggered and Hermione shot him a
scathing look, “but correct in essentials. Yes, those who progress to using magic without
shouting incantations gain an element of surprise in their spell-casting. Not all wizards can do
this, of course; it is a question of concentration and mind power which some lack.”
He set them into pairs, instructing them that one should attempt to jinx non-verbally while the
other had to repel also in silence. And because he had ignored the explanation on how to
perform spells non-verbally, a lot of cheating ensued.
Hermione could hear people whispering the incantation instead of saying it aloud. It took her
ten minutes to manage to silently repel Neville’s muttered Jelly-Legs Jinx.
Her dad saw it. He ignored her. Oh, but she wouldn’t have it. “Neville, come here for a
second,” she said.
“Oh, Hermione, I think it’s better if—” She didn’t let him finish, but dragged him to where
her dad was currently glowering at Harry and Ron. She had gathered some attention to
herself but ignored all the looks.
“Again,” she said to Neville.
The boy once more whispered the spell, a Stupefy this time, and she blocked it again without
uttering a single word. She looked up at her father. Raised a defiant eyebrow at him.
“I saw it from when you were across the classroom, Miss Granger.” He replied, “But since
the task was to silently repel a silently cast jinx… Here, let me show you.”
He had his wand on her so fast that before she could react, Harry had shouted a Protego in
front of her. It knocked her dad off-balance and he hit a desk.
“Oh, fuck.” Harry grumbled under his breath.
The whole class had looked around and now watched as her dad righted himself, scowling.
“I don’t remember inviting you to the demonstration.” He told Harry.
“You pointed a wand at my sister,”
“And your sister showed twice already she can defend herself.” He snarled, “What is this?
Genetic need to show off?” He asked, which was funny in a way, because James had been a
show-off, and she didn’t have that genetic material. “I told you to practice non-verbal spells,
do you remember Potter?”
“Yes,” Harry said stiffly.
“Yes sir.”
“There’s no need to call me “sir”, Professor.”
Hermione gasped. From the shocked look on Harry’s face, he seemed to not have thought
things through. Blaise and Theo were holding onto each other so fiercely and covering their
mouths with their hands to not make a single sound.
“Detention, Saturday night, my office,” her dad replied. She frowned, he could have given
Harry detention for the same days she had hers. “I do not take cheek from anyone, Potter…
not even the Chosen One.”
The class resumed with a lot more risks, as Harry had truly irked Severus. No one dared to
whisper the jinxes so it was harder to practice the defence when the attack wouldn’t come.
Once they had been dismissed, Hermione pulled Harry to wait a moment outside of the
classroom, the majority of the group left, while Ron, Theo, Blaise, Daphne and Pansy stayed
behind.
Pansy stayed only enough to drape on Harry’s shoulder and whisper something in his ear that
left him red in embarrassment. She dragged Daphne with her, both girls giggling.
Hermione slapped Harry’s arm, “What did she say?”
“Nothing.”
“Please!” She replied, “You look quite pleased with yourself.”
Harry grinned, but completely ignored her, he began walking ahead and she followed him,
“How much do you think he will be angry that I said that?”
“Why did you say that?” She asked him. “Are you mental?”
“I was defending you, you know?”
“He wasn’t going to hex me!”
“I love sibling squabble,” Theo muttered, Hermione turned to him to find that both he and
Blaise had lingered.
“Why are the two of you still here?”
“Dad asked me to keep an eye on you.” Theo replied, “In case you send canaries flying
again.”
“I'm not going to do the same thing twice!” She retorted.
“Oh, thank you, sis!” Harry replied sarcastically.
“You heard Dad. It’s important to have the element of surprise when it comes to spell-
casting.”
Blaise snorted.
“Harry! Hey, Harry!” They looked round, a boy was hurrying towards him holding a roll of
parchment. “For you,” the boy panted. “Listen, I heard you’re the new Captain. When’re you
holding trials?”
“I’m not sure yet,” Harry replied, but Hermione noticed that his focus wasn’t on the
conversation “I’ll let you know.”
“Oh, right. I was hoping it’d be this weekend–“
“Hey, go away,” Theo said. Shooing the boy off with his hand. The boy paused. “He said he
will let you know. Scamper.”
“Don't be rude,” Hermione said.

“Sticky little thing.” Theo replied, “And Harry’s too noble to say it.” He added with a shrug,
“What do you have there, then?”
“Why would he tell you?” Ron asked - who had already read it over Harry’s shoulder.
“Weasley. What do you think we do when we are at home?” Theo asked and his expression
showed that he was genuinely confused. “Hide from each other? The big, bad Slytherins
avoid little Harry Potter? Harry and I are bros.”
Hermione snorted and couldn’t help herself, but she laughed truly at Ron's reaction.
“They know about the lessons, Ron. Don’t worry.” Harry said with amusement in his voice.
“It's Dumbledore, he wants to see me this Saturday at eight at night.”
“I can’t believe him!” Hermione said, annoyed.
“He didn’t give you detention after all!” Hermione replied, already halfway turned to go back
to the classroom. “It’s at the same time you have your lesson with Dumbledore! He just said
it so you could have an excuse to leave the common room after curfew.”
Realisation dawned on Harry then. “That's why he was lingering around the entire class
before that1 He wanted an excuse to give me detention!”
“And you supplied!” Hermione replied.
“Where on earth are you going?” Harry called because she was walking already.
“He gave me three days detention for what happened on the train. And you got a fake one!”
“Hermione, if you get me a detention—”
“You bet I will!”
“I love sibling squabble!” Theo shouted after her.
Of course, Hermione had more than one reason to pay a visit to her dad. He wasn’t the only
one with excuses ready.
He was sitting on his desk when she entered, he looked up from the book he was reading,
“Hermione, hi.” He greeted.
It hadn’t been a shock to see him treat her and Harry poorly during class, because she knew
he had to, that their safety - all of them - were at risk if he didn’t. But it was a relief to see
him without the facade, to see the expressions on the man that was known to be
expressionless. Because when he didn’t need to hide, his eyes would alight at the sight of her
and the wrinkle between his eyebrows would soften, as though he was in constant worry
whenever she wasn’t near.
“Hi, Dad.” She replied, “Can sit down? Are you busy?”
He motioned for her to sit, “Not yet.” He replied. “Trying to find an answer to a problem, but
I haven’t had much luck so far.”
“The thing Reg said?”
“Precisely.” He replied. “He could have been more explicit in his observation from beyond
the veil.” He closed the book and put it aside, “Do you need anything?”
Hermione shook her head, “Just wanted to talk. You gave Harry detention so he could have
that lesson with Dumbledore, didn’t you?”
“Merlin, girl, how long did it take you to figure that out? Five seconds?”
“Approximately, yeah.” She replied with a small smile, he shook his head fondly. “Do you
know what they are doing?”
“Not in detail. Dumbledore wants to tell Harry more about Voldemort’s past,”
“Why?”
“It's easier to destroy a monster when you know it well.”
“The Horcruxes.”
“Yes,”
“How's that going, by the way? No one said anything anymore. But I heard Remus and Sirius
leaving at night more than once…”
“The locket has been destroyed, but we are still not any closer to the others.” He told her,
“They are following some tips about the whereabouts of the Diadem, but it keeps leading
them to dead-ends.”
She hummed and stayed quiet for a moment. Her dad scratched his forearm briefly, as though
he had just gotten an itch. Had Draco felt the same just then?
“Can I see it?” She asked, pointing at his left arm.
He frowned and covered the expanse of his forearm with the other hand, protecting it.
“Why?”
Hermione felt the tears pooling in her eyes, thinking back on Draco’s expression and the way
he shook against her, telling her he didn’t want it. “They branded him.” She said, her voice
small. “He didn’t want to show me.”
“It's ugly, Hermione.” He said but began rolling his sleeves and laid his arm on the desk
between them.
“How much did it hurt?” She asked. Cautiously, she held the sides of his arm, not touching
the mark. Hermione knew how well that would go with him. It looked like a tattoo, but one
that was alive. It was ugly, the skin around it looked a bit raw.
“It was worse than a Cruciatus.” He replied and she felt the first tear escape. “It burned, as
though the mark came from the inside, ripping through the skin.”
“I'm sorry.”
He scowled, “It was a long time ago.” Eighteen, he had been eighteen. Draco just turned
sixteen.
“Either way, I’m sorry this happened to you.” He pulled his arm from her then, his eyes dark
and his expression closed off. “Dad…”
“This didn’t happen to me, Hermione. I chose this. I wanted it.” He told her briskly and
pulled down the sleeve of his robe.
“Well, then I’m sorry you had such awful decision-making skills.” She snapped. He levelled
her a look. “It was a mistake and a terrible one, but still. You should have been able to move
on from it, not carry it on your arm for the rest of your life.”
“I made peace with it a long time ago.”
“I haven’t!” She replied. “I hate that everyone I love is a piece in this chess game we have for
war. I hate that we have to lie and hide and…” Hermione sighed, “I just want us to be
family,” she confessed. “I want what we had for Christmas and summer.”
“We are family.” He said at once. He circled his desk and leaned against it next to Hermione.
“But our family is too precious. We need to lie and hide to keep it safe.”
“When you didn’t tell me Draco had gotten the mark that day you came to visit, were you
lying and hiding to keep it safe?”
“Yes,” he told her. “A lot of things got taken away from Draco, love. I didn’t want to take this
- his telling you - from him.”
Hermione nodded. She sighed and dried the tears that had betrayed her by falling, “Why does
he need Draco?” She asked, “Draco says it’s punishment for his father’s failure. But he was
given a mission, why would he need Draco for a mission if he believes you are on his side?
What could Draco possibly do that you couldn’t if both of you are in the castle for an entire
year?”
“I can’t tell you that.” He replied and she scowled.
She was so sick of secrets.
“It’s something that would put your position as a spy at risk, isn’t it?” She asked. He didn’t
reply. Hermione was certain she was right.
Voldemort could have just branded Draco as punishment for his father. But for a Dark Lord
who believed that he was the greatest thing to ever walk the world, to follow him would
never be a punishment. It would be an honour. The punishment was the mission.
Draco had to do something that if it were for Severus to do, he would lose his position as a
spy. So it couldn’t be something small. It was something dangerous. Something big.
Hermione tasted bile.
“Don’t." He said. His eyes were hard. “Do not try to find what it is.”
“You know I will.” She replied. There was no modesty in her tone, “The stone. The Basilisk.
The werewolf. Barty Crouch. I always find out in the end.”
“Hermione.” He warned her, “You will not get involved in Draco’s mission, do you hear
me?” His voice was cold. Angry and worried. Scared that she would do it.
“Fine.” Hermione snapped and got up. She had no idea what it was, but she knew what it
wasn’t. If her dad worried she would be willing to help Draco, it meant anything related to
Harry was out. And if Harry wasn’t in danger from Draco, then there wasn’t anything
Hermione wouldn’t do to help the boy she loved. Her dad was still looking at her, anxious
and watchful. “I will see you later for my detention.” She grumbled.
“I will be teaching you how to brew antidotes to Veritasserum and some would-cleaning
potion.”
Hermione stopped. “Don’t bribe me.” He snorted. “I will see you then,” Hermione told him.
“But I’m still annoyed.”
“And annoyed you shall remain,” he muttered as she left.
She didn’t stomp, because as a sixth year and two weeks until she turned seventeen, stomping
was something she didn’t do anymore. Hermione went down to the dungeons, feeling weird
that her dad wouldn't be there, but soon saw what five years of Professor Snape’s impossible
standards caused. While outside the Defence class had thirty students, in front of Professor
Slughorn's class there were only a dozen.
She frowned at the sight of Harry and Ron. “What are you doing here?” She asked the pair.
Pansy chuckled. “I asked them the same thing.”
“I did too,” Theo added.
“Me too,” Blaise said.
“And for the fourth time,” Harry began with a roll of his eyes, “Slughorn accepts Exceeds
Expectations.”
“Well, be assured that our expectations have been exceeded, Henry.”

Draco arrived then, completing the five Slytherins who had advanced; Ernie MacMillan was
the only Hufflepuff; Harry and Ron the only Gryffindors and from the Ravenclaws, Terry
Boot, Michael Corner, Padma Patil and Anthony Goldstein.
Before Harry could retort to Pansy’s commentary, the dungeon door opened and Slughorn
waved them in. Hermione noticed how enthusiastic he was to see Harry and Blaise. It was so
weird to be in the dungeon without her dad at the head of the classroom.
“Four to a table, please.” Professor Slughorn said.
The Ravenclaws were quick to share a table, Draco tugged her by her shirt and she winked at
him. Pansy attached herself to Hermione’s side, turning to Blaise and Theo, “While sitting
next to Harry has its perks, I’m not going to spend over an hour with Weasley and
MacMillan.” She announced.
“I will go then,” Theo said with a shrug. But Hermione noticed that Harry’s table was the
closest to the Ravenclaws. Everyone knew Theo didn’t like Blaise close to them.
In front of them, there was a cauldron with a colourless and odourless liquid that Hermione
quickly recognised as Veritasserum.
“Now then, now then, now then,” their professor began, “Scales out, everyone, and potion
kits, and don’t forget your copies of Advanced Potion-Making…”
“Sir?” Harry called, raising his hand.
“Harry, m’boy?”
Hermione frowned. Quite the familiarity for a first class. Especially when the wizarding
world tended to stick to surnames. The only other professor who had called them by their
first names had been Remus. But Remus was Remus. He never looked at Harry like her
brother was a prize to win.
“I haven’t got a book or scales or anything – nor’s Ron – we didn’t realise we’d be able to do
the N.E.W.T., you see –”
“Ah yes, Professor McGonagall did mention… There’s no need to worry, my dear boy. You
can use ingredients from the store cupboard today, and I’m sure we can lend you some scales,
and we’ve got a small stock of old books here, they’ll do until you can write to Flourish and
Blotts…”
Hermione tried to look at the other cauldrons while Slughorn strode over to a corner
cupboard to find copies of Advanced Potion-Making, there was something gold-coloured at
Harry’s table. Sniffing, Hermione could get wisps of cedar and clove. She looked at Draco
briefly and felt her cheeks reddening. It was Amortentia.
A quick look at the Ravenclaw table had Hermione smirking. She knew that one quite well.
“Now then,” Slughorn continued, returning to the front of the class, “I’ve prepared a few
potions for you to have a look at, just out of interest, you know. These are the potions you
will have learned how to brew after completing your N.E.W.T.s. So, even if you have never
brewed any of them, you ought to have heard of ’em. Anyone tell me what this one is?”
Hermione raised her hand, after all, she was finally going to get the points she deserved in
Potions. She smiled a little when Slughorn didn’t pretend to not see her and pointed at her at
once. “It’s Veritaserum, a colourless, odourless potion that forces the drinker to tell the truth,”
“Very good, very good!” Slughorn said happily. “Now,” he continued, pointing at the
cauldron nearest the Ravenclaw table, “this one here is pretty well-known. Who can–?” He
stopped upon noticing her hand back in the air once more.
“It’s Polyjuice Potion, sir,” Hermione said, Draco next to her tensed a bit, but dropped a kiss
on her shoulder. She looked at him briefly and saw regret there, Hermione patted his thigh.
It’s in the past now, she thought.
“Excellent, excellent! Now, this one here… yes, my dear?”
She smiled at Draco before turning to answer, It’s Amortentia!”
“It is indeed. It seems almost foolish to ask,” Professor Slughorn began, he was looking
mightily impressed, Hermione felt giddy, there was a rush every time someone realise just
how smart she was. “But I assume you know what it does?”
Draco had a small smirk, he looked at her like he had just discovered something life-
changing.
“It’s the most powerful love potion in the world!”
“Quite right! You recognised it, I suppose, by its distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen?”
“And the steam rising in characteristic spirals,” Hermione added enthusiastically and then
shot another glance at Draco, “and it’s supposed to smell differently to each of us, according
to what attracts us, and I can smell new parchment, old books and cedar and clove.” She said,
without taking her eyes away from Draco. He smirked. His hand found her thigh - higher
than usual - and he squeezed it.
“Oh my dear,” he said with a proud smile and a far-away look, “Your mother would have
been so proud. I’m certain that your father is.” He chuckled and turned to Harry. “Your
brother too. He told me when we met how you are the best in the year.” Hermione blushed at
the praise, “Well, take twenty well-earned points for Slytherin.”
Draco leaned in close and whispered in her ear, “You look radiant sweetheart, do you like
when they see what a good girl you are?”
Hermione’s eyes widened and she had to disguise the gasp with a cough. The thigh under his
hand gave a little spasm. Hermione was pretty certain he had felt it. She turned to Draco, who
was biting on his lower lip looking genially. His eyes twinkled in amusement.
Oh.
Oh.
Slughorn had moved on, giving more details on the potion, but Hermione had just gotten a
revelation.
“I swear to Merlin if you two don’t stop flirting in front of me…” Pansy threatened.
But Draco was unbothered, he didn’t remove his hand from her thigh, instead, he slid it
down, slipping it under her skirt. Pansy noticed.
“—I will tell Professor Slughorn,” Pansy said. “The two of you will get a detention and then
will have to explain to Hermione’s father why it was so.”
Hermione grabbed his wrist. She glared at Pansy. Draco made a show of placing both hands
on top of the desk.
“And now,’ said Slughorn, ‘it is time for us to start work,” Slughorn said. Hermione realised
they had missed his entire explanation.
“Sir, you haven’t told us what’s in this one,” Ernie Macmillan said, pointing at a small black
cauldron standing on Slughorn’s desk. It was the colour of molten gold, and large drops were
leaping like goldfish above the surface, though not a particle had spilt.
“Oho,’ Slughorn said again. At once, Hermione saw he was waiting for someone to ask about
it. She would have if she hadn’t been side-tracked by Draco’s hand. “Yes. That. Well, that
one, ladies and gentlemen, is a most curious little potion called Felix Felicis.” Hermione
gasped. Draco grew taller next to her. “I take it,’ Slughorn turned, smiling, catching
Hermione’s expression, “that you know what Felix Felicis does, Miss Granger?”
“It’s liquid luck,” she replied. “It makes you lucky!”
The whole class seemed to sit up a little straighter. For the first time since they entered the
classroom, Draco was giving Slughorn his full and undivided attention. He needed luck.
“Quite right, take another ten points for Slytherin. Yes, it’s a funny little potion, Felix Felicis,
desperately tricky to make, and disastrous to get wrong. However, if brewed correctly, as this
has been, you will find that all your endeavours tend to succeed… at least until the effects
wear off.”
Hermione watched as Draco eyed it angrily. Greedily. It was clear he desperately needed an
endeavour to succeed.
“Why don’t people drink it all the time, sir?” Terry Boot asked eagerly.
“Because if taken in excess, it causes giddiness, recklessness and dangerous overconfidence,”

Slughorn explained. “Too much of a good thing, you know… highly toxic in large quantities.
But taken sparingly, and very occasionally…”
“Have you ever taken it, sir?” Michael Corner asked.

“Twice in my life,” Slughorn replied dreamily. “Once when I was twenty-four, once when I
was fifty-seven. Two tablespoonfuls taken with breakfast. Two perfect days. And that is what
I shall be offering as a prize in this lesson.”
Draco was vibrating next to her. Her heart clenched. She had no idea what his mission was,
but there was no doubt that he felt like he needed that potion to succeed.
You will not get involved in Draco’s mission, oh dad, but I am.
“One tiny bottle of Felix Felicis,” Slughorn said, unaware of how every pair of eyes followed
his every moment as he took a minuscule glass bottle with a cork in it out of his pocket and
showed it to them all. “Enough for twelve hours’ luck. From dawn till dusk, you will be
lucky in everything you attempt. Now, I must give you a warning that Felix Felicis is a
banned substance in organised competitions … sporting events, for instance, examinations or
elections. So the winner is to use it on an ordinary day only and watch how that ordinary day
becomes extraordinary! So, how are you to win my fabulous prize? Well, by turning to page
ten of Advanced Potion-Making. We have a little over an hour left to us, which should be
time for you to make a decent attempt at the Draught of Living Death. I know it is more
complex than anything you have attempted before, and I do not expect a perfect potion from
anybody. The person who does best, however, will win little Felix here. Off you go!”
Draco turned to her. Hermione nodded. He didn’t need any words. There was a scraping as
everyone drew their cauldrons towards them, and some loud clunks as people began adding
weights to their scales, but nobody spoke. The concentration within the room was almost
tangible.
The downside of potions was that everything was too out in the open, she could see the others
brewing: where they were or where they should be. Her hair had already begun escaping
from the elastic band due to the fumes, but she wouldn’t care about it. Silently, the five
Slytherins worked. There was a silent and mutual agreement that they needed that Felix
Felicis.
“And time’s up!’ called Slughorn after an hour. Hermione was sweating, her heart pounding
and a quick look at her potion and her friend’s, none of theirs had achieved the paleness the
book instructed. She just hoped none of the Ravenclaws had gotten any better than them.
“Stop stirring, please!”
Slughorn moved slowly between the tables, peering into cauldrons. He made no comments
but occasionally gave the potions a stir or a sniff. He gave Hermione’s potion an approving
nod and Hermione sighed in relief. He hadn’t reacted to Draco’s or Blaise's potion. Harry’s
table was the last one. Hermione saw the moment Slughorn’s expression shifted from rueful’s
at the sight of Ron’s potion to incredulous delight over Harry’s.
No.
No chance in hell.
“The clear winner!” He cried to the dungeon. “Excellent, excellent, Harry! Good Lord, it’s
clear you’ve inherited your mother’s talent, she was a dab hand at Potions, Lily was!”
Hermione’s mouth fell. Never. Not once Harry had brewed anything to ever achieve such a
reaction, Severus’ blatant bias notwithstanding.
“He cheated,” Blaise announced.
“Here, here!” Slughorn said with an amused laugh, “Let's not jump to this accusation. It’s
clear Harry worked hard today. Here you are – one bottle of Felix Felicis, as promised, and
use it well!”
Draco stormed from the classroom the moment they were dismissed. Hermione turned
around her brother. “How did you do that?”
“Luck I guess,” Harry shrugged, so unbelievably insufferable that she had half the mind to
wack him on the head. He turned towards the Great Hall for dinner. She was hot in his heels.
Theo, to Ron’s absolute distaste, pushed his way onto Harry’s other side.
“His book was all written over.” Theo said, “It had different instructions.”
Hermione’s expression became stony. “Harry James Potter!”
Ron scoffed, “Aren’t you the one going on and on about following rules? Well, he did that.
His book just happened to have different ones. It could’ve been a catastrophe, couldn’t it?
But he took a risk and it paid off.”
“And of course, you can’t think of a mind of your own and be on Harry’s side!” Hermione
retorted.
“Knock it off, he did nothing wrong. You are just salty you didn’t win.”
“I'm pretty sure yours was a close second sis,” Harry replied, “And besides you got thirty
points today. You heard him, we took after our parents’ skills in potions, let’s share the
spotlight.” He was grinning, clearly amused at his sudden gift in Potions.
Hermione rolled her eyes but then glared. “Theo.” She said.
“Done, my love.” He said with a smirk and snatched Harry’s book from the backpack.
“Hey!” Harry said, turning around. Theo raised it high over his head. “You are such an
asshole.”
“She's my favourite sibling.” Theo winked and threw the book at Blaise when Harry made it
to snatch it.
Ron tried to grab it from Blaise, but Hermione was quicker. “Avis!”
Everyone froze at the sight of the conjured birds.
“Low blow,” Harry said, eyeing the birds warily. “Go on, check the book. There’s nothing
weird with it. It’s not talking back. They are just notes.” Blaise handed it to her.
Hermione opened the book, flipping through the pages. It was cramped with notes. Not only
that but there were also things crossed out, such as steps and ingredients. Someone had
believed they were better than the writer of this textbook.
And when Hermione recognised the handwriting, she knew he was.
She handed the book back to Harry with a smirk. “Took after our parent’s skills indeed.” She
said, “That's Dad’s book.”
“What?” He asked, flipping through it. “How do you know?”
“How don’t you know?” Hermione asked with a snort. “You’ve been reading the things he
writes on the board for the past five years.” She told him, “I recognised his handwriting. He
wrote me a lot over the summer.”
“So, you did cheat,” Blaise said.
Harry ignored him. He turned to Hermione, “Should we let him know?”
Hermione considered for a moment but then shrugged. “It's just a textbook. He left it behind.
It’s a coincidence you got it though.”
Harry smirked and waved the book, “I guess Potion's prodigy really runs in the family then.”
Hermione rolled her eyes. Blaise and Pansy chuckled. Ron had an odd expression on his face.
But Theo was the one to reply. “I told you can have it.”
“Yeah,” Harry replied with a small smile.
They went their separate ways when they reached the Great Hall, but Hermione could still
hear the Gryffindors when they said:
“He’s not your dad.”
“No, but I can have it,” Harry replied.
Hermione understood then. She smiled fondly at Theo and wrapped her arms around his
waist. “I love you, Theodore.”
He kissed her hair. “And I love you, Hermione.”
“Tell me, Severus,” Dumbledore said amicably, “How's your first week as a defence
professor has been?”
“Unbearable.”
“Now, Severus.” Dumbledore chuckled. “You've been asking for that position for years now.”
“Because you kept hiring buffoons over me.”

“Indeed. My greatest hardship as a headmaster, for sure,” he said. “Over thirty professors in
as many years. I’m certain now it’s finally up to standards.”
“Certainly.” He replied, “But still. I would have preferred to see this year’s NEWTs students
myself. Finally a decent group.”
“Professor Slughorn has expressed his delight in teaching Harry. He has been showering the
boy in praise since the first class.”
“Delusional, I’m certain.” He said. Severus had heard the things Slughorn had said and
Severus would have never applied them to Harry’s skills in Potions.
“He said the boy shows a creative mind to Potions, often doing things differently from what
the book says, adding his flair—” Severus scowled, “Why, Severus, Slughorn even
mentioned how the last time he saw someone so promising in his classroom had been
yourself,” Dumbledore commented. “You haven’t forgotten to mention any extra lessons,
now have you?”
“Albus, if I were to waste my time as to give extra lessons to any student, there would be at
least four others more deserving than the boy.”
“Very well.” Dumbledore said with a nod, “He will be here soon.”
"He will do a detention," Severus reminded Dumbledore. "Next Saturday, same time."
Severus turned to leave, Dumbledore had told him what he and Harry would be doing and
Severus didn’t express his caution regarding showing Harry that the Gaunt family, the last
descendants of Slytherin had all been Parselmouth. Dumbledore wasn’t aware that Harry
knew about the Horcruxes, but Severus wondered how quickly the boy would be able to
make the connection between his skill and the Horcruxes.
Not as quickly as Hermione, that was for certain.
Hermione had given him the silent treatment during her detention and Merlin, he knew she
wouldn’t quit until she learned about Draco’s mission. He could only hope Draco would have
the sense to keep Hermione away once she did.
Severus passed by his new classroom, scowling as he went. Thirty students in his sixth-year
N.E.W.Ts class. Thirty pieces of parchment to grade for homework. He could have had only
ten.
He grabbed the homework pile of all his classes and took it to his quarters. Severus had
barely finished the first three years when his wards announced that his office door had
opened. He checked his clock. An hour. He had been given an hour of silence.
And since only two people felt like they had the liberty to enter without knocking, Severus
got up to see what either sibling wanted.
He found Harry standing in the middle of his office, momentarily at a loss of not having
found Severus in there. Harry was trembling, but not in fear, in anger. Severus wondered
what on earth could have Dumbledore done this time to get the boy like that.
The boy exhaled in relief when he saw Severus coming out of the concealed door that led to
his quarters.
Harry didn’t wait for another second, walking up to Severus and began speaking rapidly,
agitatedly, “He suggested that—He showed me Merope Gaunt, Voldemort’s mother and he
said that there was only one way Riddle Sr would have forgotten his muggle girlfriend for
Merope, that she used Love Potion on him and then ran away—He looked at me and asked
me how a tramp’s daughter like Merope could make someone who was loved by everyone
around him, who was beautiful and with a bright future ahead would betray a perfect match
—But fuck—the way he said it—He said her name—I HATE HIM!”
Severus blinked. The boy’s hair was standing up - not unusual - and the tips were charged
with magic - not usual.
“Harry,” Severus said, holding the boy’s shoulder, trying to get him to stop pacing. He wasn’t
applying any force, not restricting Harry’s movement, just steadying him. “Calm down, you
need—”
“You haven’t understood yet,” Harry laughed, but amusement was not part of the sound. It
was an eery reminder of Harry’s last visit to Dumbledore’s office. “What he suggested, what
he implied.”
Severus shook his head, Harry had spoken so quickly, and Severus had been also paying
attention to his magic, which had caused the books on Severus’ shelves to shake.
“I haven’t.”
“He said mum’s name,” Harry said, his green eyes brilliant and so full of hurt. “Beautiful and
with a bright future ahead like Lily, for example. That’s what he said.” Severus froze. He
understood now. “Yes,” Harry said, taking notice of Severus’ reaction.
“Harry, I wouldn't—”
“I KNOW THAT!” Harry exploded. His magic tipped an entire row of books. “I know,” he
repeated, lower this time. “I read mum’s letters, I know y—He wanted me to think it. I
fucking doubt he believes that, but he wanted me to question it, to wonder. Just like that day,
he wants me to be angry at you, to pull away. Why the fuck does he want me away from
you?”
Because he knows I won’t let you die.
Severus moved his hands from the boy’s shoulders to his hair, trying to calm it down, but
getting sparked instead. “He wants me away from you, Harry,” Severus said.
“Why?”
Because I’d take you and your sister away without a second thought about this war.
“Because I refuse to see you as a soldier,” Severus answered. His thumb went over the boy’s
scar briefly.
“He said I could tell Ron what he told me. That Ron had proved himself trustworthy. But
Hermione trusted people who could never learn of it, so I shouldn’t tell her.” Of course,
Dumbledore said that. “He asked me not to repeat any of this to anybody else. Just Ron. He
means Sirius and Remus, doesn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“But they know already.”
Severus nodded. “I haven't seen the memories.” He told the boy, “But he told me what’s in
them.”
“I can show them if you want,” Harry said. Severus blinked. How easily, trust came to him
now.
“There's no need,” Severus said. “We are further ahead than Albus.”
“Are you?” The boy asked, “The ring in the memory. That was one. Wasn’t it?"
“Yes.”
“Has he destroyed it?”
“With Fiendfyre,” Severus answered.
“But the Locket was Slytherin. The ring didn’t fit the theme. Like the diary.” Harry
commented, “How are we going to know how many are there? If they can be anything?”
“That's why you need to pay attention to your lessons. Dumbledore shows you Voldemort’s
past and what Tom Riddle found significant in his young life. Everything we need to learn is
there.”
“But how many are there?” Harry asked, clearly frustrated.
“Three have been destroyed. You destroyed the diary, Sirius and Remus destroyed the locket
over the summer and Dumbledore destroyed the ring. We know there are three more.” Four,
but Severus was holding that one close to his heart.
And Narcissa, the expert in Runes among them, had told them seven was the number. It was a
powerful number in both muggle and magical beliefs, with the others being three and nine.
Since they were over the number three and Voldemort’s soul was so fractured to the point of
splitting by itself with each new murder, Narcissa found it unlikely that he’d have made two
more intentionally. Since Voldemort himself wasn’t aware of making Harry one, Nagini was
the sixth and final Horcrux as far as Voldemort believed.
She had suspected there was a Horcrux they didn’t know and when Severus told them about
the ring, she knew her suspicions had been correct.
“Shouldn't you tell Dumbledore that you know that the others are?”
“No,” Severus said, because then he will be closer to you and we are not ready yet.
“Why not?” Harry asked with a frown. Severus didn’t reply. “It's that, isn’t it? The thing you
haven’t told me.”
Severus nodded. “I will tell you soon.” He promised.
Chapter End Notes
The title and the quote at the beginning belong to Something to Believe In by Young the
Giant
As always, let me know in the comments what you think! You can find me on twitter
and Instagram it's moonyhoax
written on a tombstone, there is no God in my house
Chapter Notes
Hello!!! How have all of you been?
Some warnings for this chapter: foul language right at the beginning!! and a bit of
NSFW (guess who caved huh) halfway and by the end of the chapter.
The title and the quote at the beginning belong to Zitti e Buoni by Maneskin
Se vuoi fermarmi ritenta, prova a tagliarmi la testa perché

Ma sono fuori di testa, ma diverso da loro
E tu sei fuori di testa, ma diversa da loro
Siamo fuori di testa, ma diversi da loro
Chapter Sixty Three
Daphne quickly realised that she wouldn't be napping during her free periods, but trying to
tackle the vast amount of homework they had. Hermione had to sometimes ask Professor
McGonagall twice to repeat instructions, hard as it was to understand what was going on. Her
dad wasn't the only one asking for non-verbal spells, every teacher expected them to cast
non-verbally. On the day of her birthday, Hermione was glad to go to Herbology, because
dealing with dangerous plants was more pleasant than any other subject, but she was even
gladder for the free period afterwards.
It was her birthday, so she allowed one free period to be actually free. She pulled Harry
along, “Come with me,” she said. She would be celebrating her birthday later in the common
room, but Harry couldn’t attend, so she’d sequester a free period with him.
“Where?” He asked as they left the Greenhouses.
Her friends didn't mind, as they all respected and appreciated some alone time, but Ron
started to follow Harry and she was ready to snap at the boy when Harry jumped ahead. “I
will see you later, okay Ron?”
“What? But I thought about joining—”
“Another time!” She said, knowing quite well that there wouldn't be one if it depended on
her. Hermione knew he was trying to catch her attention and was finding it increasingly
difficult to continue pretending she didn’t notice.
Draco, in comparison, was getting exponentially angry with the whole thing. He had been
next to her during potions when she shared a table with Harry, and the second Ron blurted an
‘I'm tall’ after she told Harry had his growing about a foot over the summer had put him at
the top of the most fanciable boys in the castle, Draco had tipped her face to face him and
kissed her so obscenely that she was surprised Professor Slughorn hadn’t sent both of them
straight to Dumbledore, forget their Head of House.
Ron grumbled something but Hermione didn’t bother to decipher, she broke in a run and
Harry, giggling, ran with her. Hand in hand, they ran past the castle's east wing, crossed the
viaduct bridge and stopped a few feet away from the shallow end of the Black Lake.
They settled on the rocks, Hermione removed her cloak so she wouldn’t sit directly on the
grass and Harry copied her, but laid on his back, crossing his arms behind his head.
“I tried to talk him out of his crush,” Harry told her in amusement, “But he grew red in the
face and told me he doesn’t have a crush and stomped away.”
Hermione rolled her eyes.
“He asked my help today in class and Blaise and Theo had to hold Draco back from tilting
the vase with the Venomous Tentacle over his head.”
“So that’s what happened?” He asked, laughing.
“I've been dating Draco for over a year now, what does he think will happen? I will suddenly
change my mind?”
Harry sighed, “Ron finds it very difficult to see your Slytherin friends as people.” He told her,
“I’ve told him more than once that they are nice people and that sometimes I like them better
than I like Seamus, but he sees the green uniform as though is the Death Eater robes.”
Hermione scowled, “What did he say about you and Pansy, then?”
Harry made a face, “He doesn’t know,” he said, “I didn’t tell him. And besides, she has
allowed me to tug her under a tapestry only once this year.” He said with a smirk.
Hermione chuckled, “You never told me what she whispered in your ear that day.”
“She said ‘That was hot, The Chosen One’.”
“Please, don’t let this name go over your head.”
He chuckled and Hermione decided to lay back as well, she rested her head on his stomach
and stretched her legs perpendicular to his. They talked about everything and nothing. From
silly things like what to ask for Christmas to whether their family would get to destroy
another Horcrux before the end of the year.
Their peace was interrupted before the bell rang. It came in the form of Vince and Greg.
“Heya Granger,” Greg shouted at her, “You went back to sucking your brother’s dick then?”
Harry made to sit up, and Hermione held him back, refusing to get up from her position.
“Ignore them.”
Greg was amused by Harry’s reaction, but she knew he wanted a reaction out of her, so he
persisted, “Draco did well to drop your cunt, Salazar knows what he could get.”
“Shut your mouth about my sister, Goyle.” Harry snapped, getting up despite Hermione’s
instructions and pulling his wand, pointing at the boy.
“Uh-huh,” Greg sneered, “Bothered much, Potter?”
“Get lost Greg,” Hermione said. “Draco might be looking for his lapdog.”
He scowled, “You are not untouchable, Hermione.” Hermione shrugged. “The Dark Lord will
come for you.”
“What did you say?” Harry bit out, advancing on the boys, Hermione held onto his arm,
holding him back.
“It’s a pity we can’t touch you,” Greg said with a sneer looking at Harry with pure hatred,
Hermione felt rattled, unsure from whom that order had come, “The Dark Lord wants to have
you himself. Or I’d finish you off for him right here.”
Hermione had heard enough, she flicked her wand, casting a well-aimed non-verbal leg-
locker curse at him. Vince pulled his wand, she turned to glare at him. “Try, Vince.” She
threatened.
“You bitch!” Greg said from the floor. “Locomotor Wibbly!” he cast, but Hermione blocked it
with ease. “He will come for you too! They will make you scream like the whore you are and
your brother will watch! And I will laugh when they kill him in front of you!”
Harry cast a tongue-tying curse at Greg at the same time she cast a levitating charm on him.
“I hope you know how to swim Greg.” She said and waved her wand, moving him through
the air until she could drop him in the middle of the lake.
She turned to Vince, and a conversation from a year ago crossed her mind. “Still wish me no
harm?” Hermione asked him.
Greg was splashing behind them, and Vince was looking anxiously at his friend. Hermione
didn’t care, if it turned out that the boy didn’t, in fact, know how to swim, Hermione still
wouldn’t care.
“I stand by that conversation, Hermione.”
“Good.” She said, “Threaten me or my brother and you will find yourself next to Greg.”
Hermione picked her cloak from the floor and grabbed onto Harry’s sleeve, “Come on.”
Vince set off to the water, she could hear him trying to cast the levitating spell to get him
from the water.
“Hermione—” Harry began, looking at Greg behind them, “I think he—”
Hermione sighed, “Expecto Patronum!” She cast and watched as her arctic fox burst from her
wand. “Gregory Goyle has fallen inside the Black Lake, someone might have to get him out.”
She told her wolf, “Send it to Professor Snape.”
The silvery arctic wolf barked and left.
She had been reckless, but the things Greg had said had unnerved her. Because it meant he
felt comfortable enough to shout his support and his wishes regarding her and her brother. It
meant that even without the mark, they had been introduced, or were getting ready to be
brought in. Even worse, it showed exactly how eager they’d be to pass on if they ever learned
she and Draco were still together.
“What the fuck happened now?” Blaise asked, catching sight of them entering the castle.
“You are shaking.”
“Oh?” She asked and looked down at herself. “I am.” She said, only noticing that her hands
were indeed shaking.
“I’m pretty sure I’m about to lose at least fifty points.” She said with a shaky laugh.
“Granger?” Theo asked, coming forward and holding her shoulders.
“Goyle said some shit,” Harry said. “Really fucked up shit.” He added, “She threw him on
the lake.”
They were almost at the Great Hall when Madam Pomfrey passed them, rushing outside. The
four of them looked at her go.
“Let's get inside,” Blaise said, pulling her and Theo towards the door. “You two are looking
too guilty.”
“They know.” Harry said, “She sent a patronus ahead. And Crabbe was there as well, he saw
it all.”
“Fucking hell.”
They entered the Great Hall and Harry reached for her, who was still being pulled along by
Theo. Her ears were buzzing and breathing had become a bit more complicated task than it
was a few moments ago. “What did she do?” She heard Theo ask, but he sounded distant,
even though she could still feel his hands around her.
“Sis,” Harry called, “Breath.” He said.
“Wh—what if he didn’t k—know how to swim?” She asked him, her eyes wide.
“He knows,” Harry replied. There was some noise around them. It took a moment for
Hermione to realise it was the other students arriving for dinner. “Get her seated and calmed
down, she’s in shock.”
Hermione took a deep breath, gripping both Theo and Harry.
“What did she do?” Theo asked again, more urgently.
“I cursed Greg. A leg-locker and then I levitated him towards the lake where I dropped him.”
She replied, her senses slowing coming back to her.
“Fucking hell, Granger,” Theo muttered. “Let’s sit. We are drawing people’s attention by
standing here in the middle of the hall.
She nodded and Harry squeezed her arm before going to the Gryffindor table. Walking
between Theo and Blaise, Hermione went towards the Slytherin table. “What happened?”
Pansy asked.
“Later,” Blaise muttered. “Not here.”
The entire hall was soon filled with students. Neither Vince nor Greg returned. The
professors slowly entered the hall, sitting at the staff table. Her dad and Dumbledore were not
present. She caught Professor McGonagall looking at her when the Transfiguration Professor
entered.
The food appeared in front of them, “Eat.” Blaise instructed.
“It might be my last meal.” She mumbled.
“Don't be ridiculous.” Blaise snapped.
Her bracelet burned and she looked down. You okay? Minimally, she shook her head.
Half an hour into dinner, the large doors opened again. Her dad thundered through, Vince was
by his side. Her dad caught her eyes and held them all the way from the entrance to where
she was seated. He looked murderous. “Follow me. Now.” He barked. Everyone around her
winced at his tone.
Hermione nodded and quickly scrambled to her feet.
“Murderer.” Vince hissed at her.
“Silent!” Severus ordered.
Whispers followed them, a few people had heard Vince’s words and they quickly spread them
around the table, by the time they reached the oak doors, the four tables knew what she had
been accused of.
He was taking her to the Headmaster’s office. They walked in silence. Hermione was terrified
of opening her mouth.
Dumbledore was waiting for them inside. It was Hermione’s second time there. She looked
around, trying to see if there were traces of her brother’s trashing. There were none.
“Miss Granger,” Dumbledore said, “I imagine you know why you are here.” She nodded.
“What you did is on the basis for expulsion.” She nodded again. “Mr Goyle could have died.”
Another nod. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”
“He threatened Harry.” She said. “He said they would make me scream and make me watch
as they killed him.”
“Those are very grave accusations indeed, Miss Granger. But you should have brought them
to your Head of House or myself.” Dumbledore said. “Mr Goyle would have been punished
for his words, but now he’s at the Hospital Wing recovering from near drowning.”
Hermione bit the inside of her cheek and picked at the skin on her little finger with her
thumb, but in the end, she didn’t hold it in. She still remembered the cold. “I nearly drowned
Headmaster, I don’t remember you bringing Barty Crouch Jr. for interrogation.”
“Hermione.” Her father hissed.
“I asked him if he knew how to swim.”
She saw the moment her dad lost it. The way his jaw ticked and the vein near his eyebrows
throbbed. “I DON’T CARE IF YOU GAVE HIM FLOATIES!” He bellowed, “You bound his
legs and tied his tongue into a knot! He couldn’t close his mouth nor stay afloat! You sent a
pissy patronus to me out of spite! He would have died if we didn’t get to him in time.”
She turned to him. “Harry and I, we were quiet. We were having a nice break,” she felt tears
pooling in her eyes. Hermione wouldn’t cry. No, Remus had said she was vicious against
those who hurt the ones she loved. But Hermione was worse to those who hurt her. “He
called out to me to ask if I were back to sucking my brother’s dick.” She said, not caring how
foul the words sounded, she wanted them to flinch, to wince and recoil from hearing what she
had to hear. “He told me Draco did well to drop my cunt, because Salazar knew what he
could get from me.”
There was rage in her father’s eyes. His body trembled in barely contained fury. She caught
him looking at the door, she knew he was considering leaving the Headmaster’s office and
going after Greg himself.
“Miss Granger, there’s no need—”
She wasn’t done.
“There is, Headmaster,” Hermione replied. “Because it was then he threatened Harry. When I
told you he said they would make me scream, he actually said they would make me scream
like the whore I was and my brother would watch. And he'd laugh when they kill him in front
of me.”
“I am sorry you had to hear those things,” he said. Dumbledore was now warily eyeing her
father, who was very, very, quiet. “But things are very delicate right now. You attacked
another student, with witnesses present. Mr Goyle's father is not in Azkaban, he will write to
his father once he leaves the Hospital Wing and you will be in danger. You put your father in
a position—”
“Don’t,” Severus said. His voice was dangerously low, as though any louder he’d lose
whatever control he had acquired, “Don’t use me against her.”
“Very well,” Dumbledore said. “Miss Granger, you won’t be expelled, but I will be taking
fifty points from you as well as fifty points from Mr Goyle. You will also serve detention for
a month with Professor McGonagall.”
“Okay.” She said.
“You may go.”
Severus watched her back as she left, the regret he had found in her eyes when he went to
find her was gone the moment she first answered the Headmaster.
“That’s two attacks in twenty days, Severus.”
“I know.” He replied. “The things he said, Albus…”
Goyle had called Severus’ daughter a whore. He wanted to storm inside the Hospital Wing
and make the boy pay. He wanted to hold her and promise her no one would ever hurt her,
that he’d die before anyone made her scream.
“There are weapons against girls that you and I will never fully understand how hurtful they
are,” Dumbledore said. “She defended herself and her brother, but she was almost a step too
far.”
Gregory Goyle could have died.
A part of Severus now wished he had.
“Do you realise now, Albus, why I can’t reveal Draco’s mission to her?” He asked the
Headmaster, remembering that Dumbledore had enquired about it when Severus told him
about Draco’s mark.
“I’m quite certain she’d finish me off in a blink,” Dumbledore replied.
“Me too,” Severus muttered. And if she learned about Dumbledore’s plans to have Harry
sacrifice himself, Hermione would be faster still.
When Dumbledore didn’t reply, Severus sighed and left. Mr Goyle wouldn’t be writing to his
father, because Mr Goyle wouldn’t have the full memory of the events. Severus quickly went
back to the hospital wing, the boy was sleeping and Madam Pomfrey wasn’t anywhere to be
seen, so Severus worked on modifying the boy’s memory. He watched the altercation.
Hermione hadn’t lied. They truly were enjoying their break in peace. Severus erased
everything after and including the memory of his daughter asking whether the boy knew how
to swim. He left a deep fear of water instead.
Next, he went after Mr Crabbe. The boy was still at the Great Hall, now much less crowded.
Hermione and her friends were gone. He doubted she had returned here after leaving the
Headmaster’s office.
He asked the boy to follow him, and once they were inside his office, he set to work. He
checked whether he had already told anyone about what had happened, but besides answering
that he hoped she’d get expelled, he hadn’t told anyone about the Lake. Good. Less work for
him. He erased the Lake completely. Severus paused minutely at the conversation between
Mr Crabbe and Hermione, noticing that while there was no friendship anymore between
them, there was a reticence from Vincent Crabbe.
Severus all but dropped his body onto his sofa once the boy left. He remembered thinking
Hermione had a growing affinity to violence at the end of last year, but the speed at which it
escalated was alarming. His daughter needed an outlet. A healthy one. There was too much
going on in her life. And for a girl as obsessed with control as she was, the colossal loss of
control she had undergone in the past year was showing its symptoms.
He picked up a piece of parchment and set down to write a letter. Thankfully, there was
someone who was an even worse control freak than Hermione. His pen pal, as Hermione had
so lovely called.
It was only when he signed and sent the owl away that he remembered Hermione’s birthday.
Hermione knew her dad had done something because Vince and Greg weren’t as angry as
they should be with her. Draco confirmed her theory when he told her the boys had no
recollection of forced swimming activities.
Remus wrote. She ignored every single letter he sent in the passing weeks, refusing to open
them. Hermione couldn’t bear to find disappointment there. Sirius wrote too, she did the
same.
To make matters worse, halfway through October, Draco had successfully made himself
scarce. He’d bolt from the classrooms the moment classes ended; skip meals in the Great Hall
and only return to the common room late at night. She was partially furious with him because
his chosen method to keep her from arguing with him or asking questions was to keep her
mouth busy with other sounds.
And that was exactly how they found themselves on the morning of the first Hogsmeade visit
of the year. Hermione pressed up against the wall, Draco’s mouth on her throat and his hands
burning trails on every inch of skin they touched. She had a leg wrapped around his waist and
he held onto her thigh possessively, his big hand squeezing her flesh, pulling her closer to
him. “You have to be quiet, love,” he whispered in her ear and she bit down on her lower lip.
“Or they will hear you.”
“Draco,” she moaned and pulled him by the hair to kiss his sinful lips. Draco had his other
hand under her sweater, pulling down her bra and brushing her nipple with his thumb.
“Please.”
“What do you want, Granger?”
“You.”
He bit her lower lip, pulling it playfully with his teeth, and her grip tightened on his hair.
“You have me.” His hand left her breast and he dipped it inside her jeans, “Are you wet for
me?” She nodded, her legs shaking and unable to string a sentence together. His fingers
touched her through the fabric of her knickers and he groaned when he found that she was
indeed wet for him. “Such a good girl.” He whispered against her ear, and she shook against
his arms. Draco was having the time of his life since discovering how much she enjoyed
being called a good girl.
While his fingers worked inside of her, he showered her in praise, “You take them so well,
love,” he mouthed against her throat, “You always feel so good, Granger,” he whispered
against her lips.
“I’m—” her body reacted faster than her mouth and she shuddered against his fingers.
“So lovely,” he told her and kissed her lips greedily. Draco pulled away, letting go of her
thigh. He held onto her, as her body still shook. “You are so beautiful, Granger,” he told her,
tucking her wayward hair behind her ear. There was something about Draco’s touch, when
they were like this, coming down from the high, his fingers would be startling delicate when
they touched her, no matter how rough he had held her just moments prior, he’d trace
mindless patterns on her skin, his touch unbelievably tender, “I hope you know you hold my
entire heart.”
She touched his cheeks, the hollowed ones now and traced the curve of his jaw and the
perfect bridge of his nose. There was a more prominent curve to his waist that wasn’t there
last term, and he still was utterly perfect to her. “Don’t hide from me, Draco.” She asked him.
“Please,”
He kissed her again, briefly, softly, “I’m not.” He told her, “I need to do this on my own.”
“Draco—” she stopped because voices were approaching.
“I will see you later, okay? Enjoy Hogsmeade.”
“Are you not going?”
“No. I have a detention with McGonagall.”
He quickly left and Hermione sighed, another conversation evaded. She set out to find her
friends, knowing that they would be almost ready to go to the village.
She didn’t see Harry on the way, but technically she didn’t see much with her scarf wrapped
over her face to protect her from the chilly October wind.
Pansy walked next to her, Daphne on her other side, the three girls had their arms interlocked,
with Blaise and Theo bringing up the rear. Zonko’s had been boarded up, but Honeydukes
was open and looked crowded when Hermione saw it through the window. The street was not
very busy; nobody was lingering to chat, just hurrying towards their destinations. “Let's get
somewhere warm, please,” Daphne asked and they all eagerly nodded in agreement.
They quickly found a round table for the five of them and Blaise went to secure them some
Butterbeer. Hermione caught sight of Tonks and another two wizards who looked like Aurors
in disguise.
Blaise had barely returned with their drinks when the door opened again and Harry and Ron
strode in, just as bundled up as she had been. Pansy took a long gulp of her drink and got to
her feet.
“Where are you going?” Hermione asked.
“After your brother.”
“What? Why?
“My sources have informed me that he has grown fond of ginger during the summer. I may
have to investigate.” Pansy replied and went after Harry.
Hermione glared at Theo and Blaise, knowing full well that sources had been either of them.
“Stop enabling her!”
Daphne laughed and shook her head, smirking when she shared with the group, “She kissed
Neville the other day.”
“What?” Hermione and the boys asked at the same time.
“He’s been helping her in Herbology,” Daphne replied and Blaise was smirking already.
“Truly. But she finds his new confidence attractive. He’s very different since you guys came
back from the Department of Mysteries.”
“So why is she bothered by Harry looking at Ginny?”
“She's an only daughter. Never learned how to share,” Daphne shrugged.
“But,” Theo began, “Have we established whether she really fancies Harry or she’s just
making her round at the Gryffindor's fifth-year dormitory?” He asked, “That's why I told her
Harry seemed interested in Ginny.”
“She's certainly not making her rounds,” Hermione replied with a snort, looking over at
Pansy talking to Harry. Ron next to him was glaring at her, almost willing the raven-haired
girl to leave with his eyes only. “And I haven’t heard anything from either of them since my
birthday. I’m not even sure they are still hooking up.”
“They aren’t,” Blaise replied. They turned to look at him. “She likes him. A bit too much, if I
say so myself, so she’s pulled back.” He told them. “Her family managed to stay neutral until
now. They’ve been hiding for over a year already, she won’t put them at risk by being
connected with Harry.”
Hermione sighed and looked at her friend and brother. She understood Pansy and a part of
her agreed with the girl’s decision. After all, keeping a distance to keep another safe was now
Hermione’s speciality.
They finished their butterbeer and shouted for Pansy, indicating they were heading back to
the castle. Harry waved at them, and they all waved back. Pansy sauntered back and drank
her entire glass in one gulp. “Merlin Parkinson, is there a draught somewhere?” Blaise asked.
“There will be soon.” She replied, without bothering to elaborate. “Let's go.”
The walk back to the castle was even worse, they were thoroughly wet once they got to the
dungeons. Pansy decided to take a bath in the Prefect’s bathroom, and Milli and Tracy hadn’t
returned yet, so it was only Daphne and Hermione there.
“Merlin, Hermione! What’s that?” Daphne asked, her blue eyes wide.
“What?” Hermione asked and looked down at herself. “Oh.” She said, noticing that she had
pulled her pullover and her ugly scar was showing. “I got this at the Department of
Mysteries.”
“I didn’t know,” Daphne mumbled, “Does it hurt?”
“No.” She replied, “But I will have this forever.”
“Do the boys know?” Daphne asked, “I can imagine they didn’t react well.”
“No.” She said, “I was casting concealing charms on it during the summer. I didn’t want
Theo or Harry to feel guilty.” Hermione explained.
“And Draco?”
“He knows.” She said, “I showed it to him.”
“Merlin.” Daphne said, “Who did it?”
“Dolohov.”
Daphne nodded. “I’m glad he’s in Azkaban.”
“Me too.”
“Can I hug you?”
Hermione smiled. “Of course.”
Daphne hugged her tight, squeezing her. “I wish I could trade it with you.” She repeated and
Hermione squeezed back.
“This hug is enough, Daph.”
They went to bed early that day, and Pansy returned when Daphne was exiting the shower.
“Something happened,” Pansy told them. “Your brother was involved.”
Hermione groaned and dropped her body on top of the bed, “when does something happen
and he’s not involved?”
“Genetic need to get into trouble.” Pansy joked and Hermione threw a pillow at the girl. “But
this time I think he was just a witness. Katie Bell is in the Hospital Wing.”
“Do you know what happened?”
“No.” Pansy shook her head, “I caught the portraits gossiping.” The girl threw Hermione’s
pillow back.
“I will ask him tomorrow.” She said, fluffing her pillow and getting ready for bed.
The story seemed to spread during the night because by morning everyone was talking about
it. There was a startling lack of details but with the news of Katie being moved to St Mungo’s
Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, there was no absence of storytellers.
Katie had been cursed. Someone had given her a necklace and she had begun to scream and
then collapsed. Hagrid had quickly taken the girl to Madam Pomfrey. Harry and Ron had
been coming back to the castle, a bit behind Katie and Leanne when everything happened and
they were the ones to take the cursed necklace to Professor McGonagall.
Harry found her before lunch, “I need to speak to you.”
He pulled his cloak from the inside of his pocket and threw it over both of them. They
manoeuvred through the corridors, being careful to not run into the other students. With the
chilly weather, the entire school was inside and it took them three floors to find an empty
classroom.
Harry pulled the cloak and locked the door. “You need to find out what Malfoy needs to do.”
“What?” She asked, taking a step back.
He raised both hands in peace, “I’m not attacking.” He promised, “But I recognised the
necklace,” Harry told her, “It was in a case at Borgin and Burkes four years ago, I saw him
having a good look at it while I was hiding from him and his dad.”
“Do you think this was what he bought that day you followed him?”
“Yes.” He said. “It’s too much of a coincidence, Hermione.”
“But Draco wasn’t in Hogsmeade today.” She replied, remembering what he told her.
“Detention with McGonagall?”

Hermione nodded, “How do you know? You are not stalking him again, are you?” She
frowned.
“No. McGonagall told me.”
“You told her you suspected Draco? Harry!”
“Hermione! She almost died. You didn’t see what happened. She rose in the air and began to
scream, we couldn’t get her down. Ron, Leanne and I were trying to pull her down, but she
wouldn’t budge and then she collapsed, and began trashing on the ground.” He told her,
"Forced or not, he almost got Katie killed.”
“How did she get the necklace?”
“We don’t know for certain. Leanne said Katie went to the restroom and returned with it.
Someone gave it to her.”
“Where was the necklace?” She asked.
“Wrapped in a package. It tore when she carried it.”
“That’s shoddy work,” Hermione said. Harry raised an eyebrow at her. “Draco’s not stupid.
That was sloppy and not well thought.”
“Are you going to advise beginner Death Eaters now?”
“Shut up.” She snapped. “I’m just saying anyone could have gotten that necklace and the
person carrying it had a narrow escape. No one could have opened that package without
touching the necklace if a tear sent Katie to St. Mungos.”
“So who do you reckon Katie was supposed to give the necklace to?”
“I know it wasn’t to you.” Harry tilted his head to the side. “I tried to get Dad to tell me. The
way he reacted… He’s worried I’m going to help Draco, it can't be anything to do with you.”
Harry chuckled. “Then it’s easy, isn’t it?” He said, “There’s only one person whom you and
Voldemort wouldn’t mind seeing dead.”
Her eyes widened. “Harry…” It made sense, didn’t it? A mission that was doomed to failure.
A mission that if her dad was the one to do it, he’d lose the Order’s trust.
“What?” Harry asked, “You don’t really think Malfoy has to kill Dumbledore, do you?”
When Hermione didn’t reply, he looked at her like she had lost her mind. “Hermione, you
just said your dad knows what it is. And if he knows, Dumbledore certainly does! I don’t
think Dumbledore would allow Draco to attend classes in the morning and plan his murder in
the afternoons!”
“Harry,” Hermione called, “that's exactly what he’d do.” She retorted. “That's what he does!
Remember Quirrell? Barty Jr? They were both teaching Defence and planning your murder in
the afternoons!” She reminded him, “And besides, between you and I, we know Dad is not
telling Dumbledore a lot of things.”
“We have to find out who your boyfriend’s out to kill.”
“I will find out.” She snapped, “You stay out of it.”
“Yeah?” He asked, “And when are you going to do it? When you are so over him that I can’t
separate your name from his on the map?”
She slapped his arm. “Stop stalking him!”
“I’m not!” He replied, cradling his abused arm.
“Leave it to me.” She said. “I'm serious, Harry. You focus on your lessons with Dumbledore.”
Before Draco attempts to kill him again.
As though Draco knew she would come after him, the boy doubled his efforts to evade her.
He was not even risking his other tactic now, which left Hermione both frustrated and
annoyed. But Hermione now had an Invisible Cloak and the Marauders Map with her,
borrowed from her dear brother, so when everyone was out on the Quidditch field to watch
the first match of the year, Hermione opened the map only to see her boyfriend nowhere to be
found. Frowning, she looked everywhere again. Everyone else seemed to be accounted for.
The professors, the Headmasters, all of her friends and Vince and Greg. Wherever Draco
was, he was by himself.
Hermione went to the boy’s dormitory. He would have to return there sooner than later. She
hope it would be before any of the other boys, but still, she had the Cloak. Hermione sat
cross-legged on Draco’s bed, the curtains pulled around on the bed and she kept the map
open in front of her. The Slytherin common room and dormitories were under the lake, so she
couldn’t hear the game and had to contend to watch the hundreds of names pilled together
around the Quidditch field. She had to admit it was quite entertaining ‘watching’ the game by
the names.
It was over an hour when she saw his name pop up on the fifth floor. Hermione could swear
he hadn’t been there before. She checked the field, the match was still going. Draco seemed
to be coming back to the dungeons and Hermione smirked to herself. Well, a girl always had
more than one weapon.
Quickly, she undressed until she was only in her underwear and hid her clothes under his bed
to not give herself away. She heard him opening the door and a few seconds later he opened
the curtains.
Draco staggered. “What on—” His eyes slid from her face to her chest and her legs.
“Merlin,” He gasped. Not one to be slow to move, Draco chugged his shoes off and pulled
his shirt from his belt, quickly undoing it.
Hermione chucked the map to the side as he climbed on the bed on top of her. Before he
could kiss her, she stopped him with a hand to his chest. “Where were you?" She asked.
Draco made to pull back, but she had locked her legs around his waist. He looked down
between their bodies and up at her.
“Hermione…”
“That's my name.” She replied. “Where were you?” She asked again.
When he didn’t reply, she tugged him by the waist, pressing his length against her belly. “You
are evil, my witch.” He murmured, closing his eyes and breathing through his nose.
“It was a simple question,” Hermione replied, running her fingers through his chest, eliciting
shivers from him.
“The Room of Hidden Things.” He said as she allowed him to kiss her. Well, wasn’t this a
lovely method of conversation?
Hermione pulled off her bra herself, watching in amusement as his eyes darkened and his
cheeks grew flushed. Draco kissed his way down, pecking her lips, moving to her chin, the
hollow of her throat when she arched her head back, her collarbone, and the valley between
her breasts. The moment he stuck his tongue out to lick at her nipple, Hermione pulled his
head back by his hair, his eyes were wide, “What were you doing there?”
Draco looked between her tits and her eyes, finally realising what was the price. He smirked,
“Oh, my cunning, resourceful little Slytherin,” he said, “I brought this out on myself now,
didn’t I?”
“You did.” Hermione grinned and tugged a bit harder on his hair, “What were you doing
there?”
“Getting something to work.”
Hermione let go of his hair and he descended upon her nipple, lapping his tongue a bit more
enthusiastically than usual. She hadn’t failed to notice how hard he was against her. He
wasn’t the only one making discoveries in bed.
She was getting worked up because Draco had a talented tongue, but she still had some
questions. Hermione waited until he moved down, licking and pressing kisses to her belly,
paying extra attention and care to her scar, it always made her shiver and her heart race. His
hands reached for her knickers and Hermione stopped him. He actually groaned against her
hipbone. “Is it dangerous?”
“Not once I fix it.” He replied and leaned down, she tried to stop him but he resisted. “No,
you asked your question. I will have this now.”
“But—”
“You have to work on your interrogating questions, love.” He replied and threw her knickers
over his shoulder.
Hermione moaned when he gathered the moisture with his thumb and coated her inner lips
with it, barely brushing her clitoris. He licked her and they groaned together. She grabbed
onto his hair again, “Why do you need to fix it?” She asked, surprised her voice was still
cooperating with her.
“I need it as a way out.” He replied and circled her clit with his tongue, “Don’t ask any more
questions, Granger, I don’t want to lie to you but I can’t tell you the rest.”
I need it as a way out. An escape plan. He couldn’t quite kill Dumbledore and remain in the
castle to be arrested.
That afternoon, they fucked with a barely veiled desperation, as though Draco would be
making his escape any second now, as though they didn’t have any more time and were
already on borrowed one. And of course, Hermione managed to snag a few more questions
out of him.
Chapter End Notes
how obvious is it that I read Debt of Time recently??? the "Do you know how to swim?"
scene is a homage to the one and only Mia Potter in her most iconic form.
There's also a bit of Pansy and Harry for those who've been missing the iconic duo. I
have so much fun writing them, I always want to include more of them in the story.

I already have the next one halfway done, so I might update it again during the week if I
have the time.
As always, you can find me on twitter and instagram it's moonyhoax

a song that echoes like morning bells
Chapter Notes
Hello!! Thank you so much for waiting patiently for the update! I have finally
graduated! I had to prepare my master's thesis defence, that's why I missed the updates
for the last two weeks, but now that's all over and done with! I can't say how relieved I
am that this part of my life is finished.
And if you are following this fic since the first chapter, you have followed my master's
journey as well! I remember posting the first chapter while in quarantine after having
just arrived in the country to begin my studies. So, thank you for that as well <3
The universe becomes a wave

and crashes down
forever's not enough
and under new conditions
you are not alone
Chapter Sixty-Four
November quickly eased into December and with it, the snow and the ice covered the
windows. Soon the Great Hall had its usual twelve Christmas trees and garlands of holly and
tinsel had been twisted around the bannisters of the stairs. Despite the clear festivity in every
corner of the castle, from everlasting candles glowing from inside the helmets of suits of
armour to great bunches of mistletoe hanging at intervals along the corridors, Hermione
couldn’t feel it. Their workload was so intense, their homework was always piling up that
Hermione couldn’t gather a plan past the following day. Harry was busy with Quidditch and
avoiding the gaggle of girls converging underneath the mistletoe bunches every time Harry
went past. Hermione giggled and more than once she found herself pecking her friends on the
lips to be released by the spell. Pansy, always eager to help in the most questionable causes,
always jumped to Harry’s rescue if she was near.
Ron, as Hermione learned from Harry after the Quidditch match, had found himself a
girlfriend and for Hermione that meant he was more than often absent when she went after
Harry. Hermione sent Lavender a box of chocolate and signed with Ron’s name, the girl
deserved it.
“I thought she was being careful?” Hermione wondered out loud after another save.
“Romilda Vane is planning a love potion. I overheard her in the bathroom the other day.”
Daphne replied, “This is a war effort.”
The girls glared at Pansy, but the raven-haired commanded enough fear that no one dared to
say a word to her. The first time Pansy had kissed him under the mistletoe, Harry had barely
reacted, but now, he was ready for her and his hands would grip on the Slytherin’s waist a bit
too reminiscent of a boy who didn’t want to let go.
“Can I talk to you?” Hermione asked, amused at the glazed look on her brother’s face. “Or
are you going to snog anyone else?” She motioned to the girls who were still lingering.
“No more kissing.” He replied and walked to her. “What is it?”
“We have a thing to do.”
“We do?” He asked, his head cocked to the side.
“Yeah. My investigation.” Hermione replied and understanding dawned upon him.
“Let's go,” he told her and with a surprising cockiness, he winked goodbye to Pansy and
waved at Daphne.
Hermione led him to the fifth floor, in front of the well-known door that led to the Room of
Requirement. “We need to ask for the Room of Hidden Things.” She explained and he took a
step back to allow her to ask what she needed from the room.
When they entered, they were standing in a room the size of a large cathedral, whose high
windows were sending shafts of light down upon what looked like a city with towering walls,
built of what clearly were objects hidden by generations of Hogwarts inhabitants.
“Fucking hell,” Harry said upon seeing it.
Around them, there were alleyways and roads bordered by teetering piles of broken and
damaged furniture, there were thousands and thousands of books, no doubt banned or
graffitied or stolen. There were winged catapults and Fanged Frisbees, some still with enough
life in them to hover half-heartedly over the mountains of other forbidden items; there were
chipped bottles of congealed potions, hats, jewels, cloaks; there were what looked like
dragon-egg shells, corked bottles whose contents still shimmered evilly, several rusting
swords and a heavy, blood-stained axe.
“That sneaky bastard,” Hermione muttered.
“Let me guess, he didn’t tell what he hid here?”
“Of course, not.”
Harry huffed. “Well, what did he say?” Hermione’s cheeks flushed and Harry made a face. “I
do not want to know how you got answers out of him, do I?”
“Probably not,” Hermione replied. “Let's think.” She said, “Tell me again what you overhead
at Borgin & Burkes. And look around. Whatever looks…Dark or…I don’t know… That isn't
supposed to be here.”
Harry retold everything he had heard and Hermione nodded along while paying attention to
the room around her.
“Okay,” she said after, “I don’t think he managed to sneak anything inside the castle, with all
the safety measures in place. And before you say anything, I don’t think the necklace was in
the castle and he sneaked to Hogsmeade and managed to give it to Katie. I think he used
Katie to bring it inside.”
“So it’s something that was already in here,” Harry nodded.
“And that needs fixing,” She concluded.
Harry snorted. “A lot of things here need fixing.” He said, pointing at the broken Vanishing
Cabinet in which Montague had got lost the previous year.
Hermione paused, “Harry. I need to trust you that you won’t tell anyone.”
He nodded. “I won’t.”
“He needs something to leave the castle,” Hermione told him. “That's what he’s been doing.
He’s fixing something that will get him out of the castle.”
“After he…” Harry trailed off. Hermione nodded.
They turned left, and kept walking around, being careful to not trip on anything or jostle the
piles of objects, afraid to send them down. Harry stopped suddenly, his eyes glued to a
cupboard. “Harry?”
“There’s…” He hesitated before reaching for one of the doors. “Something is hissing inside.”
“What do you mean? Hissing like…”
He opened the door and it creaked with disuse. Inside, there was a chipped bust of an ugly
old warlock. Hermione gasped. “Hissing like the locket.” Harry finished because, on top of
the statue’s head, there was a dusty old wig with a tarnished tiara. A tiara that looked exactly
like the descriptions of Rowena Ravenclaw's Diadem.
Harry made to touch it and she stopped his arm, pulling him back. It wasn’t hissing, but
Harry looked at it like somehow it spoke to him. Hermione felt chills down her spine. “We
need to find something where to put it inside.” She said, her voice low. Hermione was afraid
to speak louder and somehow trigger something. Anything.
“This is it, isn’t it?” He asked, his eyes still fixed on the diadem.
“I think so.” She said she didn’t say his reaction was odd enough to be anything else. “Come
on, help me find a box. We need to take it to Dad.”
Harry nodded and blinked, seemingly coming out of his trance.

They found a box not very far to the side and Hermione levitated the wig with the diadem,
too afraid to levitate only the thing. She stored it inside and locked it with a spell.
“Let's go,” she said. With matching thumping hearts, they turned back towards where they
came from, passing through the alleyways of hidden things. There was a skip on their step,
both too anxious to get to Severus but at the same time too nervous to break into a run.
“This leaves the cup and the snake,” Harry whispered. “Two more.”
Hermione nodded.
They reached the dungeons without another word and in their nerves, both knocked on
Severus’ door together. The pair waited in bathed breath for Severus to open the door.
“What did the two of you do now?” He asked upon seeing them, undoubtedly taking their
expressions.
Hermione showed him the box. “We found what Remus and Sirius have been looking for.”
Her dad blinked. He took the box from her and opened it. A moment later, his eyes widened
and he ushered them inside.
“Follow me.” He said and took them to the door that led to his quarters. Hermione looked
around briefly, it vaguely reminded her of her dad’s house in Spinner’s End. The walls were
filled with books and two counters with potions on stasis. Hermione was surprised to see the
photos that once adorned his mantelpiece were now there. There were three doors to the side,
Hermione guessed it led to his bedroom and the bathroom and maybe another room.
“Explain.”
Harry looked at her. “We were looking for something in the Room of Hidden Things.” She
said, being as vague as possible. He would not like to hear she was trying to find what Draco
was doing. “We came by a cupboard and Harry…” She hesitated, how could she explain?
That Harry had felt the Horcrux?
“I heard hissing.” He said, picking up from her hesitation. “I opened the cupboard and it was
there. On a bust, with the wig.”
Hermione watched her dad. There was nothing on his face. Occlumency.
“And what did it… hiss?” Her dad asked.
“Just… It wanted to be together.”
Her dad looked at the Horcrux in his hand. Hermione looked at Harry, at his scar that was
always too red. She looked at her dad again. He had heard hissing from the Locket as well.
Hermione knew to assume he meant Parseltongue.
Objects weren’t meant to speak parseltongue, so the hissing had to be the soul inside. A part
of Voldemort that was aware even in objects, okay, they were very powerful objects, Salazar
Slytherin’s locket and Rowena Ravenclaw’s diadem, personal belongings of two of the
founders. But still.
Harry had told her about his first lesson with Dumbledore, and how he saw the Gaunt family
talk to each other in Parseltongue. They were descendants of Slytherin, Harry wasn’t. They
all spoke Parseltongue, and Harry did too, like the things with pieces of Voldemort’s soul
inside.
Harry’s scar hurt whenever Voldemort was close or whenever he felt any stronger emotion.
Harry could see into Voldemort’s mind.
Harry could speak Parseltongue.
Hermione looked at her dad, her heart rabbiting inside her chest. She swallowed the panic
and the tears. She occluded and hid her fear and the hundreds of scenarios her mind was
trying to give her.
But there was one that she couldn’t hide, no matter how much she tried: It wasn’t two more.
“Are you going to destroy it?” Harry asked, unaware of Hermione’s turmoil. Her father was
not looking at her and Hermione realised he knew too, he had known, from the moment
Sirius kicked them out of the room that day when they learned about the Horcruxes. They
knew, all of them.
She was going to be sick. Bile came up and the acrid taste filled her mouth.
“Yes.” Her dad replied. "But not in here, not with the two of you present. It fought against
Remus and Sirius. It’s too risky…” Harry nodded.
Hermione’s mind was whirling. Dumbledore knew it too, didn’t he? Last year… He had
refused to look at Harry, afraid Voldemort would see through Harry’s eyes… he knew there
was a connection and he knew about the Horcruxes, so it could only mean he knew exactly
what Harry’s connection with Voldemort was. This meant he was teaching Harry about the
Horcruxes with the knowledge that Harry… Hermione shuddered.
“Are you okay?” Harry asked, turning to her. “You are looking a bit green.”
“I might have eaten something bad.” She lied. Hermione hid her hands inside her pockets,
they were shaking.
“I can give you something.” Her dad said, watching her carefully. “Harry, go back to your
common room, it’s almost curfew.” He instructed. “I will see to Hermione.” Harry just
nodded, blissfully unaware.
Harry left and Hermione and her dad stared at one another. He put the box away without
taking his eyes off her.
“Tell me you have a plan.” She said, gasped really. “Tell me you are going to save him. Tell
me you have a good reason to not want me to help Draco kill Dumbledore.”
“You know everything.” Her dad said, resigned. He was still occluding.
“Tell me I’m wrong.” She begged him, “Please Dad, tell me I’m wrong.”
He shook his head and Hermione let an instant sob. Her legs gave out and he was there,
keeping her from falling and holding her to his arms. She shook as she cried. She held onto
him desperately. She had never endured pain so terrible, not even when Sirius confessed to
having wanted to die. She felt her chest burn like her heart was scorching its way out.
“I won’t allow it.” He told her and his arms around her were the only thing holding her
together. “Nothing will happen to him.”
“Promise me, Dad.” She asked because she knew. If there was one thing her father never did,
was breaking promises.
“I promise, love.”
She didn’t know how long it took for him to calm her down or for her to stop crying, but
when she finally did, her dad walked her back to the common room. Hermione didn’t bother
going to her dormitory, she went straight to the boys’.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Greg asked from the door when he opened it.
“Clearly, not here to talk to you,” Hermione replied.
“Granger,” Blaise said, appearing behind Greg and pushing him to the side. “Is there
anything you need?” He asked.
“Yeah,” she nodded and sniffed. “Theo.” She couldn’t have her boyfriend, but her best friend
was more than enough.
Blaise invited her in and she ignored the two boys who scowled at her. Hermione would not
fall for their provocations again.
Draco had probably been exiting the bathroom when she knocked and was now standing by
the door, quietly watching her.
“I'm here,” Theo said. He was already in pyjamas, his hair damp from a recent shower.
“Can I sleep with you?” She asked, lowly and uncertain.
“Of course.” He replied, no questions asked.
Greg snorted, but whatever comment he was about to make was cut off by both Blaise’s and
Theo’s glare.
“Sleep on my bed,” Blaise said, still eyeing Greg in a warning. “So your backs are safe.” He
picked up his pillow and switched with Theo.
Blaise’s bed was the one next to Draco, which not only put her further away from Greg, but it
also let her closer to her boyfriend.
Theo pulled the curtains around the bed, leaving just the one facing Draco’s bed not drawn.
“Let me get you something to wear,” He told her, turning to open his trunk. But Draco, who
had moved from the bathroom the moment she climbed on another boy’s bed, was faster and
silently handed her one of his shirts. Theo snorted. “Have the boxers then,” He said, handing
her a pair of boxer shorts.
Draco glared until Theo turned his back so Hermione could change. “You okay?” He
mouthed. She shook her head.
“Tomorrow.” She promised him and he nodded.
Hermione folded her things and placed them on the floor on top of her shoes. Draco too,
pulled his curtains but the one facing her. He laid down on his side, looking at her.
She pulled the covers and Theo moved behind her, with Draco following Theo’s every
moment with judgmental eyes. They squeezed on the bed, Theo ignoring Draco’s glares and
hugging her from behind, pulling her against his chest.
Hermione extended her arm and Draco held her hand briefly before letting go. “Good night,
love” He mouthed and she smiled at him.
“Good night.” She said.
“Tell me a number, Hermione,” Theo whispered against her neck.
“Too many to count, Theo.” She whispered and a tear rolled down, wetting the pillow.
Draco’s brows furrowed in worry and she turned her back to him, hiding her face and her
tears in Theo’s pyjamas.
She heard some rustling behind her and for a second she thought Draco would throw caution
to the wind. But Theo’s voice was firm when he said, “No. I got her.” Curtains were pulled,
and they were hidden from everyone. “Let me hold onto one, then.” He asked her.
Hermione shuddered but gave him one. “Dumbledore expects Harry to sacrifice himself for
the war.”
Theo’s arms tightened around her, “He will be wholly disappointed,” he said, “No one will
touch your brother.”
The following morning, Draco cornered her to ask what had happened and she lied to him. It
left a bitter taste on her tongue and an acid feeling in her stomach. Hermione hated it. She
wondered how many more lies their relationship would carry through this war.
She knew her dad was keeping a close eye on her. A part of her knew it wasn’t because he
expected her to murder the headmaster, but another was thrilled to know he worried she’d try.
They had an extra Hogsmeade visit before their Christmas break. Once more, she found
Tonks patrolling the village, this time she decided to strike up a conversation with the Auror.
Tonks told her about how chaotic things were at the Ministry and that the Order had officially
moved to the Burrow, as Dumbledore didn’t want to continue having meetings in a place
where now Narcissa Malfoy had free entry.
The mention of Narcissa made her think of Lucius and Hermione asked if Tonks knew
anything about the new and returned prisoners. “They are saner than the previous ones, now
with the Dementors gone.” The woman replied, “In turn, they are making the guards lose
their minds with their provocations.” And with a quick look, she realised what Hermione had
really asked. “He’s quiet. Hasn’t said a word since his arrest.” She hesitated, “Well, that’s a
lie. He spoke to me when it was my turn to work a shift there.”
Hermione’s interest immediately peaked. “What did he say?”
“He asked me about you,” Tonks replied. “He wanted to know if you had survived. The spell
Dolohov threw was supposed to kill you.”
An idea came to her. A terrible one. One that no adult around her would approve of, but she
was officially of age now. “Can I—” Hermione began, but the words caught in her throat.
“Visit him?” Tonks concluded. Hermione nodded. “He is allowed one visit. Narcissa hasn’t
gone. I can get you there if you want.”
“I do.” She said.
“Hermione…” Tonks began, “As I said, I can get you there, but I don’t recommend it. It’s a
terrible place. The Order will certainly be opposed to it. Your father and godfather, even more
so.”
“Can you get me there without them knowing?”
Tonks smiled ruefully. “Kingsley is the one approving the requests. He will know.”
“Okay. Can you get me there before he tells Remus?”
“Certainly,” Tonks smirked. “I will put the request for the next Hogsmeade visit, this way I
can accompany you there and you don’t need an excuse to leave the castle any other time.”
“Thank you, Tonks.”
“Just make sure Remus doesn’t get too angry at me.”
Hermione grinned, “You do know he and Sirius are together, don’t you?”
Tonks laughed. “Oh, I know. My cousin keeps reminding me. He purposely snogged Remus
against Molly’s kitchen counter a few weeks ago because my hair matched Remus’ again. I
can’t help it. He’s quite handsome.”
Hermione laughed. “I think it’s a Black family trait.” She confessed, “Draco did the same
back in October during Potions.”
Tonks found that piece of information so hilarious that her hair became an explosion of
colours while she laughed.
“Merlin, Hermione. Just for that, I will make sure you see your Death Eater protector.”
“He truly saved my life, Tonks.”
“I know. And the others as well. That’s why I’m willing to help.”
“Thank you.”
“HERMIONE GRANGER!”
Hermione stopped dead on her feet. Tonks did the same and it wasn’t even her name being
shouted through the village.
“Oh shit.” She said, finding Remus coming up from the Hog’s Head.
“He's angry, angry,” Tonks commented.
“I’ve been ignoring his letters since September,” Hermione told Tonks.
“What did you do?” Tonks murmured. “Should I be worried?”
“I threw someone at the Black Lake,” Hermione replied. “No. It’s fine, he—huff”
Remus had caught up to them and gathered her in his arms, squeezing the life out of her.
“Merlin girl,” He said against her hair, “A dozen letters. Do you really think I was angry at
you for twelve letters?” She nodded, squeezing him back. “Pup, I stopped being angry
halfway through the first one.” He told her and she let out a choked-up laughter.
“I thought it best to not risk it.” She replied and he snorted.
“I had to come up here. Severus told me you’ve been ignoring him as well,” he shot her a
pointed look, “We have a Christmas dinner planned. A family one. I needed to make sure you
will be taking the train home in two days.”
“I'm not ignoring him. He teaches Defence.”
He rolled his eyes and only then noticed Tonks next to her, “Oh, hello Tonks.”
“Hiya Lupin,”
He looked at the pair and suspicion coloured his features. “You smell trouble.”
“You can smell us?” Hermione asked, slightly terrified.

“You, yeah.” He replied with a smirk. “You are my pack. And you are up to something.”
“I'm not,” Hermione replied promptly.
“Oh, yes, very convincing.”
“Cute.” Tonks blurted. Hermione turned and caught the blush in Tonks’ cheeks, “That you
call her pup, I mean.” She quickly added and Hermione bit down her lip so she wouldn’t
laugh. Hermione looked around just in case Sirius didn’t burst out of the snow to piss around
Remus. “I will be going now. Patrol, yes.”
“See you around, Tonks!” Hermione called, highly amused.
“So,” he began, throwing an arm around her shoulders, “since you are not up to anything, tell
me how your semester’s been.”
Slughorn’s office was always already more extravagant than the other ones, but for the
Christmas party, he had clearly tried to outdo the castle’s decorations. The ceiling and walls
had been draped with emerald, crimson and gold hangings so that it looked as though they
were all inside a vast tent. The room was crowded and stuffy and bathed in the red light cast
by an ornate golden lamp dangling from the centre of the ceiling in which real fairies were
fluttering to Hermione’s great annoyance. The moment she spotted the house elves bearing
heavy silver platters of food, Hermione opened her mouth to complain. “Mi amore, behave,”
Blaise told her, getting into her line of vision. Well, he was quite a vision in his velvet green
suit. Theo, next to him was looking quite dashing with his black suit and a velvet green tie
matching Blaise’s outfit.
“He got the Hogwarts’ elves for his extravaganza!” Hermione said.
“Don't look below everyone’s knees and you will be fine,” Blaise instructed with a smirk and
Hermione glared at him. He offered his arm and she took it. Since she couldn’t invite her
boyfriend to come with her, Hermione was also matching with the boys, with her own velvet
green dress that hugged her body a little too nicely according to Pansy and Daphne.
“Harry, m’boy!” boomed Slughorn from across the room, almost as soon as Harry and Luna
had squeezed in through the door. “Come in, come in, so many people I’d like you to meet!”
He told her brother and Hermione felt pity as she watched him grip Harry’s arm and lead him
purposefully into the party.
“Let's find something fun to do,” Blaise suggested, tugging Hermione and Theo - one in each
arm - towards the beverage table.
“Look! My dad’s there!” Hermione pointed out.
“Granger, it’s a party. Going after your dad is the antithesis of fun.”
Theo snorted and served Hermione and himself from the bowls that contained alcoholic
drinks. Blaise was still sixteen, so he would have to sip from Theo’s cup, as the magic only
allowed him to grab anything from the non-alcoholic table.
Both boys had grown up with events like this one, so they knew how to circle the party in
perfect time to avoid Slughorn without looking like they were avoiding Slughorn. It helped
that their Potions professor was more interested in Harry than anyone else.
But when they watched Slughorn throw out the arm not already possessively around Harry
around Severus Snape, they had to witness it from up close.
“Stop skulking and come and join us, Severus!” Slughorn hiccoughed happily, he sounded
quite drunk. Her father looked miserable. Hermione and the boys giggled into their cups. “I
was just talking about Harry’s exceptional potion-making!”
“Oh boy, this will be so good.” Theo chuckled, circling the table to watch the scene from the
side.
“Some credit must go to you, of course, you taught him for five years!”
“Funny, I never had the impression that I managed to teach Potter anything at all.” Her dad
replied.
“Well, then, it’s natural ability!” Slughorn shouted. Her dad winced at the sound. “Family
talent! Oh! Speaking of family—”
“Oh no!” Hermione muttered and got ready to hide, but Blaise pushed her directly towards
Slughorn, laughing.
“There she is!” Slughorn said happily. Thankfully for Hermione, Slughorn had both arms
occupied “Such talent, Severus! Your kids keep brewing excellent potion after excellent
potion, you should have seen what he gave me, first lesson, the Draught of Living Death –
never had a student produce finer on a first attempt, I don’t think even you, Severus–”
“Really?” Her dad asked quietly, his eyes still boring into Harry. The boy shouldered it with a
proud smirk. He had learned Occlumency after all. And she knew Harry must be thoroughly
enjoying Slughorn saying Harry was better than Severus when Harry was using Severus’
book.
“Really!”
“Potions are my favourite subject,” Harry said with the worst smile. Either Theo or Blaise
choked on their drink behind them.
“I'm sure it is!” Slughorn said, unaware that her dad seemed to be seconds away from wiping
Harry's smirk away.
Their conversation was interrupted by Draco, being dragged by the ear towards them by
Argus Filch. “Professor Slughorn,” Filch wheezed, sounding overly satisfied with himself for
catching a student lurking in an upstairs corridor. “He claims to have been invited to your
party and to have been delayed in setting out. Did you issue him with an invitation?”
Draco looked furious. “All right, I wasn’t invited!” He replied, “I was trying to gatecrash,
happy?”
“No, I’m not!” Filch replied, which was clearly a lie, as he looked quite gleeful. “You’re in
trouble, you are! Didn’t the Headmaster say that night-time prowling’s out, unless you’ve got
permission, didn’t he, eh?”
“That’s all right, Argus,” Slughorn said, waving a hand. “It’s Christmas, and it’s not a crime
to want to come to a party. Just this once, we’ll forget any punishment; you may stay, Draco.”
But Draco’s expression showed that he had no intention to stay nor that he had been around
trying to gatecrash. She knew he would have used the opportunity to go to the Room. But
Draco was quick to smile and thank Slughorn, who preened at the compliments and mention
of his generosity.
“It’s nothing, nothing,” Slughorn replied, “I did know your grandfather, after all…”
“He always spoke very highly of you, sir, said you were the best potion-maker he’d ever
known…”
Hermione had to look away, under this light, Draco’s face looked even more ill. His face had
a greyish tinge which only highlighted the dark circles under his eyes. “I need another drink.”
She said and turned around, her chest heavy.
If Tonks got her that visit to Lucius, the first thing Hermione was going to do would be to
yell at the man for what he had caused Draco.
“I’d like a word with you, Draco,” she heard her dad say and turned to look at them.
“Oh, now, Severus,” Slughorn slurred, “it’s Christmas, don’t be too hard—”
“I’m his Head of House, and I shall decide how hard, or otherwise, to be. Follow me, Draco.”
Hermione looked around. Harry had disappeared.
That fucking Cloak.
Rushing, she left the party and walked briskly down the corridor, when she bumped into
something invisible, she knew she had found her brother.
“What the fuck, Hermione?”
“I told you to stop stalking him!” She hissed at him, pulling the Cloak so she could get under
it as well. “Now we can go find them.”
Harry rolled his eyes, but they moved quickly, door after door, trying to hear anything from
the other side. Her dad’s voice came from the last classroom in the corridor.
“You have been avoiding me this term. Why?”
She silently cast the spying charm and they crouched down to see what was happening.
“You damn well know why!”
“Language. And you realise that had anybody else failed to come to my office when I had
told them repeatedly to be there, Draco—”
“My girl—”
“She has a name.” Severus hissed. “For Merlin’s sake use it.”
Draco rolled his eyes, “She’s avoiding you as well. I don’t see you rounding her around the
castle!”
“That's it, then? You’ve told her.”
“I didn’t.” Draco hissed. “You know, I didn’t. But—”
“No buts!” Severus snapped, “Whatever she got out of you it’s already too much.”
“And that’s because she has more brains than half of the school put together!”
“Listen to me,” Severus said, his voice so low now that they had to push their ears very hard
against the keyhole to hear. “I am trying to help you. I swore to your mother I would protect
you. I made the Unbreakable Vow, Draco—” Hermione tensed. The Unbreakable Vow meant
death if broken.
If Draco failed… Then her father would die. Oh, but Lucius would get an earful for
Christmas and New Year’s.
“Looks like you’ll have to break it, then, because I don’t need your protection! I know why
you are doing it and there’s no need. She will stay out of it. I promise you.”
“It's not only that, Draco.” Severus argued, “I worry about you, I see you wasting away. Tell
me your plan and I will assist you.”
“No,” Draco replied, shaking his head. “He will find out I had your help. I can’t. It will be
worse for my mother. I—Uncle, you need to let me do this.” Draco asked, “My father is still
in Azkaban, Mother is alone, I have to work with fucking Greg after all the horrible things he
said to the love of my life, please, I need to keep my family safe.”
“Your family is my family too, Draco.”
“I don’t inquire about what you and Mother do together with my cousin and Lupin.” Draco
retorted and Hermione had no idea that Draco even knew about that, “So don’t inquire about
this.”
They had barely a second’s warning; they saw Draco move on the other side of the door and
flung themselves out of the way just as the door burst open. Draco strode away down the
corridor, away from them. Severus came right after and stopped at the exit.
“Get out of that cloak right now if the pair of you don’t want me to confiscate it until
graduation.” He barked at them.
Harry did as told and her dad could now glare at them without the cover of invisibility.
“How did you know?” Harry asked.
“I have wards against the spell she cast,” He told them and Hermione made a face. “I knew it
was her and since I couldn’t see anyone, I knew you were here as well.” He explained.
“Follow me.”
“You are not going to give us detention, are you?” She asked.
“No, Hermione. Not today.” He replied, he sounded tired. “It’s Christmas.”
He took them to his quarters, now that they had been there once, it seemed he had no problem
with taking them there every time he wanted to talk to them about non-school related stuff.
Hermione loved it, it felt like a home away from home.
Harry clearly felt the same because he shrugged off his shoes and found a place for himself
on the sofa. Her dad not even batted an eye at it, so quickly, Hermione did the same, her feet
were hurting from the heels. “Do you know how to give a massage?” She asked, thrusting her
feet on top of Harry’s lap.
“Get off,” he said, pushing her legs away.
“Theo would do it,” She replied, showing her tongue at him.
“Get Theo to do it, then.” Harry retorted, doing the same back at her.
“Behave,” Severus said. “You are too old for that.” He offered them hot chocolate and they
both grabbed it with eager hands. “I know Remus told Hermione, but in case you haven’t had
the time to update your brother… We are going to have a Christmas dinner at Grimmauld
Place on the evening after tomorrow.”
“Who's we?” Harry asked.
Severus made a face, “You will find out.”
“That sounds ominous,” Hermione said. “Remus said it would be a family dinner.”
“He would say that.” Her dad replied, “But before you two get too comfortable, I have to
address your unbearable penchant for overhearing conversations that are not meant for either
of you.” He watched the pair and when neither of them replied he glared, “I don’t want you
following me or Draco around the castle, do you hear me? The two of you are not entitled to
every piece of information going on in this castle.” He turned to Hermione, “I remember
quite vividly me telling you to stay out of it.”
“I know,”
“So?” He asked, “What did you find?”
“What?” She asked, confused.
“You clearly heard the conversation. Draco won’t tell me. What is his plan?”
Harry snorted and Hermione heard him mutter ‘Slytherins' before taking another sip of his
chocolate.
It was probably the most awkward assortment of people Hermione had ever been with. The
only one who seemed ecstatic with the entire thing was Kreacher, who had been overjoyed
since Regulus' portrait had been discovered, as Sirius had said. As it was, the portrait was
now hanging on the wall behind the dining table and Hermione and Harry waved at him
when they entered. Hermione understood why no one wanted to tell them who was coming to
the dinner.
Sirius sat at one end of the table, while Narcissa went straight to the other as if being
members of the Black Family gave them automatic places at the head of the table. Harry sat
on Sirius' left side and Remus on his right. Next to Remus was Theo and next to him was
Draco, who was on his mother's left side. Her dad was on Narcissa's right side and Hermione
was in the middle between her dad and Harry, facing Theo.
Kreacher was setting the plates and wiping his tears with the fabric he used to cover himself,
muttering about finally having guests worthy of Grimmauld Place. More often than not, he
would let out a sob that was strangely close to Regulus' name.
The adults were tense, which was slightly ridiculous, as Hermione knew they all worked
together. Maybe the problem was that they intended on keeping a civilised tone throughout a
three-course meal. Or maybe was something else entirely.
Hermione shot a look at Theo, who was breathing rhythmically through his nose, in an
attempt to not laugh. She had been bewildered upon seeing Draco arriving with Narcissa
through the Floo, and by Draco’s expression, it had been clear his mother hadn’t told him
where they were going.
Narcissa was currently inspecting the choice of silverware and Kreacher's layout, her lips in a
tight line. This entire thing had been her idea - Sirius had grumbled when he handed each of
them their new set of dress robes, Narcissa had wanted all of them to wear black - her
husband was in Azkaban, her deranged sister was living in her house alongside several other
deranged Death Eaters. She refused to throw a ball without Lucius, insisting that she would
have a family dinner instead. Family which apparently consisted of her son, her goddaughter,
her goddaughter's father, her goddaughter's half-brother who was her estranged cousin's
godson, her estranged cousin's werewolf boyfriend and their new adopted son. Hermione was
pretty sure Narcissa would be strangling herself by pudding. At least everyone had followed
with proper attire. Even Kreacher seemed a bit cleaner.
Draco was the one to break the silence. "This is not awkward enough," he said in amusement,
"why didn't we invite your estranged sister and the cousin I never met? What's her name?
Nymphadora, wasn't it?"
Harry snorted.
"It's Tonks,” Remus replied.
Sirius at once replied, "No."
Narcissa glared at him and Hermione sighed. There was no saving dinner. "Do you have a
problem with my sister?" She asked Sirius.
Harry was trying and failing to keep his laugh inside. Sirius was throwing him a warning
glance and by the sudden jump, either Remus or Sirius had kicked him under the table.
"I have no problem with Andy,” Sirius replied curtly, clearly annoyed by the topic. Hermione
had to look away again so she didn't laugh.
Harry lost it then. “He doesn't have a problem with Andromeda, Mrs Malfoy,” Harry said
between chuckles.
"Harry, don’t,” Remus warned, but he too was amused at the entire thing. And looking at
Sirius quite fondly.
Sirius began, "Don't you da—”
But Harry continued, his green eyes glimmering. "It's with Tonks he has a problem with.”
Narcissa frowned, "Isn't she a child? Why on Merlin's name do you have a problem with a
child?”
Sirius' ears grew red and the new blush quickly spread through his cheeks. “I don't have a
problem with Tonks,” he mumbled.
Remus laughed, "She’s twenty-two, she's not a child,” he replied.
Sirius whirled at Remus, “Oh, now she's not a child?”
“Tonks has a crush on Remus.” Harry burst out, his shoulders shaking and he didn't seem
even slightly bothered by the look of betrayal Sirius gave him.
Severus groaned on her other side, “Oh lord, bad taste must be a Black family trait.” He
muttered under his breath.
“Excuse me?” Every Black family member echoed in horrifying levels of similarity.
Hermione and Theo joined Harry as they laughed. Even Regulus' portrait on the wall was
offended.
“I apologise Draco, you have the perfect taste, of course, must be the Malfoy side of the
family.” her dad added and she felt her own cheeks reddening as she smiled at him. “But the
rest of you…” he continued with a disappointed shake of his head, “Cissa, your husband is in
Azkaban,” Severus pointed out and Sirius and Remus snorted, “Bella chose Rodolphus, not
even Bas, Andy chose the plainest Hufflepuff that he could even pass for white bread,” he
pointed at Remus then, “and well, do I even need to explain myself regarding Sirius and
Tonks?”
“I had good taste.” Regulus quipped.
Severus shuddered, “Merlin's beard, don't let me get started on you."
Regulus completely ignored him and her dad didn't bother. There was no dissuading the dead.
“James apart, Sev has a point of course,”
“Reggie!” Sirius and Narcissa exclaimed, both profoundly offended.
“Not Remus, of course,” Regulus added hastily, “Remus was my first crush.”
“REGGIE!”
Remus was having a blast, Hermione had never seen him laugh so freely. “Cheers Reg,” he
said with a raised glass towards the portrait. “You should have told me.”
“Stop flirting with my family members!” Sirius screeched.
Remus smirked and turned to Narcissa with a raised eyebrow, but she was faster, “Open your
mouth Lupin and I swear I will throw this knife.”
“Anyway,” Regulus continued, not caring that Narcissa was twirling one of the knives quite
expertly. “I merely meant about Malfoys having good taste. That was my agreement with
Sev. Draco obviously has good taste, Lucius clearly had good taste,” he added with a wink at
Narcissa, “And Xenophilius married Pandora.” Regulus concluded softly.
They had learned that Luna's late mother was one of Regulus' best friends in one of the D.A.
meetings last year.
Sirius, still feeling wronged by all of them, threw at Harry, “I don't know why you are
laughing so much, you are just as terrible!”
Theo snorted and Remus let out a long-suffering sigh.
“What did I do?”
“Hook up with your sister’s best friend!”
"Merlin's sake Sirius let it go." Regulus groaned.
Sirius wasn't going to, he pointed at her dad, “And you!” He said, “You have the same taste
in women as James!”
Severus' face twisted slightly in discomfort and it was enough to set them all off again. Even
Narcissa was chuckling and Draco, for once since getting the mark, was smiling, almost like
he could taste happiness once more.
Hermione knew she was the only one who loved every single person at that table. That
despite their many connections and different degrees of relationship, she was the one who
they all also loved. They were her family. Her dad and her brothers, her godparents and her
boyfriend.
“I love all of you,” she said softly, smiling at every single face around her.
They all returned the smile and repeated, "I love you too.” So easily.
Dinner was an overall pleasant affair. There had been a silent agreement to only talk about
the past, as the future ahead of them was uncertain. No one wanted the mood to grow tense or
bleak, so Narcissa told them about the time she played Seeker for Slytherin and even laughed
a little when Sirius told them about their brief and tumultuous engagement. For once, Sirius
didn’t tell them about their pranks, as Severus - the main focus of them - was seated among
them.
The young ones told stories as well, the Slytherins didn’t have as many adventures as Harry,
but Hermione noticed how Draco was attentively listening to Harry’s tales. When Draco told
the Gryffindors about the time they had a duel in the manor during the summer of their
second year, Harry laughed upon learning that Hermione had transformed Vince’s head into a
tentacle.
Theo told them that Hermione had kept Rita Skeeter in a jar for an entire summer and how
they had gotten the woman to stop writing about Harry and her. Her dad raised a
disapproving eyebrow at her, but Narcissa found it brilliant and congratulated Hermione.
Quickly, the entire thing turned into ‘let's see how many times Hermione didn’t get caught’
so she decided to call for dessert and presents.
Later, when the adults had retreated to another room for adult talk and the teenagers moved to
the living room to play games, Hermione found herself on Draco’s lap, her boyfriend’s hands
wrapped around her middle while the four of them played Mau-Mau.
Harry was losing and he blamed Draco, “I would focus more on my cards if I wasn’t paying
attention to his hands.”
Draco scowled, “Potter, I’m behaving.”
Theo snorted, “He truly is.”
Hermione chuckled, “Besides, you weren’t as bothered by walking in on Theo and Blaise all
those times during the summer.” Harry made a face at the reminder.
Theo laughed and drew his last card, winning the round. “Well, I’d say he wasn’t bothered at
all by us.” He winked at Harry who only got red in the cheeks.
Hermione’s eyes grew wide at the implication. Draco snorted and hid the sound against her
hair.
“Anything you’d like to share with the group?” She asked.
“Do you really think this is something I want to talk about with him here?” He asked,
pointing at Draco, who only smirked.
“Potter,” he said with an exaggerated sigh, “We are family, and it’s not like all of us has never
been there before…” Hermione turned around, raising an eyebrow at her boyfriend. Draco
chuckled and kissed her briefly, “You do look like your dad when you make that face.” He
told her and then explained, “I share a dormitory with them, I have seen plenty.”
The cards were left forgotten between them. Theo was ridiculously proud of the whole thing.
Draco caught Theo’s expression and flicked a card at him, “Certainly you know I speak of
Blaise.”
Harry got even redder in the face.
Hermione giggled, “Everyone had a Blaise thing.” Draco laughed but pinched her side all the
same.
Theo remained unbothered, after all, he was the one dating Blaise.
“All right,” Harry said, his cheeks crimson, “Blaise is quite enlightening,” he confessed and
they all laughed, “but he’s expected, no one looks at him and remains the same—” another
round of laughter, “—but I’ve shared a dormitory with Neville for six years now and it took
me seeing him balls deep in Pansy to make me truly question things.”
“OH MY GOD!” Hermione screamed, taking her hands to her mouth.
Theo had fallen backwards, his laughter uncontrolled and tears rolling down his cheeks.
Draco was much the same, but against her shoulder, her own body shook with his laughter.
“You caught them doing it?” Theo asked, from his new place splayed on the floor.
“Yeah,” Harry said seriously, “She did it on purpose. Planned the entire thing—” The three
Slytherins were beside themselves now, because, of course, Pansy would do something like
that. “Held eye contact with me while he—you know—”
“Please,” Theo wheezed, “I can’t breathe!”
“—and then had the balls to ask if I wanted to join.”
“Well she did have the balls,” Draco commented and they went off again.
“Thankfully it happened right before the Christmas break, so I have two weeks before I have
to look Neville in the face again.”
“Or not in the face.” Theo reminded him.
Harry punched Theo’s leg and Theo retaliated by kicking him, toppling Harry to the other
side.
“So,” Hermione said, “Are you going to join?”
Suddenly, it seemed the most important question. Theo sat back up and was curiously
watching Harry. Even Draco had unhid his face from behind her to wait for Harry’s answer.
He looked at them, green eyes sparkling at the possibility that he seemed to just now be
considering.
“How would that even work?” Harry asked.
“If one thing, Pansy is inventive, she will find a way,” Draco commented and this time she
was the one to pinch him, but on his thigh. He kissed her shoulder, “Worry not, my love. You
keep me too busy.”
Harry threw a pillow at Draco, “We are definitely not that close for you to say that in front of
me.”
Draco was unperturbed, “Suck it up Chosen Boy,” he said, “This is only the first Christmas
together.”
Hermione smiled, her heart suddenly twice its size in her chest, she squeezed his hand and
leaned to kiss the side of his jaw. Harry looked at her, a fond look in his eyes and she realised
then, that he was okay with the entire thing, with Draco, with the ever-growing number of
Slytherins in his life.
“Should I call you Draco, then?”
“Never in public.”
Harry agreed. “No, never in public.”
“I spend too much time pretending that my best friends and my girl are not what they are to
me and that pretending I wasn’t present for your bisexual awakening will be easy.”
Theo laughed again and they all quickly followed, Harry shook his head in tired acceptance.
“Truly the fastest way to create a bond,” Theo said.
Their laughter would interrupt their conversation and make it all the more unbearable. They
were happy. They were laughing and having fun. Severus could see how the sound of Draco’s
laughter was draining years from Narcissa, how Theodore’s scandalous peal of amusement
and Hermione’s lovely giggles twisted at Remus’ heartstrings.
Because while the teenagers were being teenagers, the adults were going through their plan to
get the Horcrux from Bellatrix’s vault. Because soon, one of them would have to go out there
and call Harry. And they would have to ask something of him. And then, they would have to
take something from him.
Sirius was sitting with his head between his hands, “Do we have to do this today?” He asked
just as they heard Harry laughing, “Listen to them—”
“We can only do it today.” Narcissa pressed, “The goblins are waiting for me. And besides,
we can’t afford to wait, he gets strong each day.”
Severus agreed. “We are lucky that he hasn’t realised half of his Horcruxes are gone,” he
said, “We still have the diadem to be destroyed. Once we destroy it, there’s no saying he
won’t feel it. We need to have the cup with us once we do it, we can’t risk him moving it.”
Sirius sighed and nodded. “Then there’s nothing else to discuss. Get him here.”
Remus got up, “I will go.”
Narcissa removed a small folded piece of cloth from her pocket and placed it on the table.
Draco’s hair. Severus removed the vial from his breast pocket and placed it next to it.
Polyjuice potion.
It didn’t take long for them to return. Severus watched as the boy entered: his eyes alert and
his expression resolute. Always ready to fight.
The boy looked at the things on the table and glanced a Severus. He noticed Harry taking a
small step in his direction.
“Come here pup,” Sirius said, getting up and pulling Harry to his side before sitting back
down, bringing Harry with him. Harry looked at Severus again. He thought back to a
conversation they had at the beginning of the term.
It's that, isn’t it? The thing you haven’t told me.
I will tell you soon.
He knew Harry was thinking it too.
“We are removing the Horcrux from Bellatrix’s vault today,” Severus told him. The green
eyes grew wide. “The Goblins are expecting Narcissa for a first-class business meeting. That
means Goblin-made artefact. That’s the only reason we have an after-hours appointment.”
Remus showed the locket, “It’s not in perfect state, but we believe that they will find it to be
less offensive now that there isn’t a dark spell on it.”
Severus nodded, “The Goblins believe that any goblin-made artefact is rightly theirs and once
the wizard or witch they were made for died, it should be returned to them. Narcissa will
return the Locket in exchange for an unregistered visit to the Lower Vaults.”
“Do you have the key?” Harry asked Narcissa.
“The Lower Vaults have their own security measures. They don’t need a key like the one you
have for your Potter vault.” She explained to him. “During the first war, once my sister and
her husband and her brother-in-law were sent to Azkaban, I was designated as the ‘key
holder’ as a matter of speaking, because I was the closest family member not in Azkaban. A
quick enquire and we learned that I still am the key holder, neither of them has reclaimed the
title since their release.”
“Because they escaped, not gotten released.” Harry pointed out.
Sirius chuckled. “The Goblins couldn’t care less about wizard affairs,” He said, “I managed
to send a request to have money withdrawn from my vault while on the run to get you a
broom.” He reminded them, “Especially when the vaults in question are the biggest ones.”
“So they will just let you walk in?” Harry asked.
Narcissa nodded, “The vaults from the Malfoy, Black, Lestrange and Nott families are all in
the Lower Vaults.” She explained, “I happen to have a blood connection to two of the biggest
vaults in Gringotts and an authorisation for the third.”
“We need your help with something.” Sirius began, “And it’s just that. Help. You can say no
and we will still do it without you.” Harry shot him another glance, and Severus nodded.
“You can—sense— the Horcruxes and we believe that the Hufflepuff Cup is not merely
sitting in the middle of the vault. You would make the search faster.”
Harry nodded. “I'd go with Mrs Malfoy?” They confirmed it, he then pointed at the hair and
the potion. “I'd go as Draco, right? That’s Polyjuice Potion.”
So he was actually learning Potions, Severus thought.
“It's nine in the evening on Christmas, likely, there won’t be anyone at Diagonal Alley, but if
there are… they won’t be the sort of people we can have witnessing Narcissa Malfoy and
Harry Potter.” Sirius said, “Not that we would let that happen during any time of the day.” He
added, “but it’s safer if she’s accompanied by Draco. He’s in a… higher position now.”
Harry understood the meaning but thankfully didn’t comment on it. “I will do it.” He said as
they all knew he would.
“Harry,” Severus called and the boy turned to him, “I won’t lie and say there are no risks
because there always are. The Goblins might suspect something or not accept the locket.
They might even not allow the cup to be retrieved.” Harry nodded, “You will have to trust
Narcissa and listen to her, do you understand? This is a retrieval mission—”
“Don't call it mission.” Sirius hissed.
Severus ignored him, “Not one of your adventures or your we-figure-as-we-go thing. You
will follow Narcissa’s words and if she says you leave without the cup, you will leave
without the cup.”
“Okay.”
“Promise me.”
Harry nodded, “I promise.”
“Now repeat what you have to do.”
Sirius rolled his eyes, “He's not a child.”
But Harry was still paying attention to him and Severus realised in a swift clarity that Harry
saw Severus as the authority figure between him and Sirius. “Harry.”
“Listen to Mrs Malfoy. Trust Mrs Malfoy. If she says we are out of there, we are out of
there,” Severus raised an eyebrow and Harry added, “with or without the cup.”
“Good.” He said and pointed to the table in front of them, “You will take the potion before
leaving, but you will also have another vial with you in case you need more time.”
Harry nodded and grabbed the vial from the table. “Are you ready?” Sirius asked and the boy
assented, “Call me if you need help.” Sirius placed a hand on the boy’s chest. “Do you have
your Cloak with you? Good. Take it."
“All right.” He said and Sirius dropped Draco’s hair inside.
They watched as Harry drank and Severus had to hide the amusement at the surprise on the
boy’s face. He clearly was expecting a foul taste. The transformation was quick: the boy grew
a few centimetres, the shoulders became a bit wider, the hair changed from dark black to
white-blond and of course, the eyes. Lily’s green was gone.
Harry removed the glasses and pocketed them. Narcissa was staring at the copy of her son.
“You need his attitude,” She commented. Automatically, Harry raised his nose and donned
the air of superiority Draco carried with him. Sirius chuckled, Remus had to look away so he
wouldn’t chuckle. “I cannot say it didn’t work.” She said.
They left the room to find the other three anxiously waiting.
“What the fuck?” They said at once. “Why is he me?” Draco added.
“I am going to Gringotts and Harry is accompanying me,” Narcissa said. “He can’t exactly go
as himself, now can he?”
“The vault,” Hermione said. "You are going to the vault.”
Theodore seemed more interested in observing Harry. He was circling the boy and went as
far as poking a finger on Harry’s ear. “Get off me.”
Theodore smirked. “Tone it up a little bit more.” He suggested, “Like you’ve had every
possible privilege in your life but still found it within yourself to be unbearable.”
The original Draco Malfoy glared at his friend. Remus was heavily breathing through his
nose.
“Draco, dear. You know what we need.” Narcissa said and the boy’s expression looked
pinched.
“I do. But I also know that no one thought to ask me anything first.” He replied. Harry
mimicked it to perfection.
“Well, we don’t have time for it now.” She said, not leaving space for her son to argue.
“Draco, if you please.”
The boy glowered but reached for his wand inside his pocket and offered it to Harry. “Don't
lose it, Potter.”
“Do you want mine in exchange?”
“No,” Remus said before Draco could agree or disagree. “Harry needs it to verify his identity
at the bank, but in case he ends up needing to use a wand, he can’t risk Draco’s wand not
answering him.”
Harry shrugged at Draco and it was so odd seeing it in Draco’s skin. Hermione made a face,
“Don't do that. Don’t slouch either. Try not to speak too much, you are too polite.” Draco was
offended next to her, but Hermione wasn’t done, “Goblins are beneath you and you have the
biggest vault in there, they work for you. If they try to argue with you, the first thing you do
before replying is to scowl.”
Remus had to leave the room then and Theo was stifling his chuckles behind his hands.
“And you voluntarily chose to date him,” Harry commented. “Okay then.”
“You have my face Potter, respect it.”
Harry scowled.
They all snorted.
“Let's go,” Narcissa said and offered her arm for Harry to grasp.
The moment they entered the Floo, nervousness fell upon the room. Harry nodded to himself
and they silently watched Narcissa call for Diagonal Alley and swiftly disappear among
green flames.
“And now we wait,” Sirius sighed.
“Am I really the only one who doesn’t know why you needed him and my mother to go to
Gringotts together?” Draco asked.
Hermione held the boy’s hand and squeezed it, but she didn’t reply.
“Not everyone needs to know everything Draco,” Severus replied, a small bite to a
conversation they had where Draco claimed the same thing.
The boy sat back down, his arms crossed in front of his chest. Hermione sat down next to
him, but her eyes were searching between the three adults.
Remus smiled softly at her, “It’s going to be fine, pup.”
They all spread around the living room to wait. The teenagers were all on the sofa, with
Hermione in the middle. Sirius was in an armchair to the right while Remus stood with his
back leaning against the ancient grandfather clock. Severus also stood, behind the sofa,
facing the Floo and right behind his daughter.
When an hour had passed and Harry and Narcissa didn’t return, anxiety took place. Sirius got
to his feet and began gripping the upholster of the armchair tightly. Hermione held Draco’s
and Theo’s hands in her lap.
Severus and Remus were still unmovable but clear signals of stress could be seen coming
from the wolf, so Severus knew he probably looked the same.
They stared at the Floo, a group effort to will it to life and bring the other two back.
Sirius began pacing when they reached the hour-and-a-half mark.
“I think I truly lost my mind,” Sirius said, making everyone more nervous. “Why did I trust
my cousin again? I stopped doing that at thirteen! Merlin, they could have run into a Death
Eater or the goblins might realise something is off—Fuck! How could I have forgotten it?
The Thief’s Downfall! It’s one of the measures in the Lower Vaults! Harry’s Polyjuice would
have gone off and—”
“For fuck’s sake stop, man!” Severus barked, forgoing his own constant reminder to keep a
civilised language.
Because if it was true that the vaults were protected by the Thief’s Downfall, alarms would
be ringing around the bank the moment their cart passed through with Harry under the
Polyjuice. The possibility made him shiver.
Hermione looked up at him and he placed both hands on her shoulders, squeezing them and
keeping his hands there. Maybe in support of her. Maybe it was to himself. “Narcissa knows
what she’s doing.”
“Yeah, but she’s still my cousin and I know how my family members are! She could change
her mind! She could realise that saving her family will be easier if she just takes him straight
to Voldemort!”
“She wouldn’t. Her son is here.” Remus commented.
“Excuse me?” Draco asked, his entire body tensed next to Hermione. “What’s that supposed
to mean?”
“Nothing, I—”
“Am I a hostage now?”
“Of course not, Draco,” Severus replied. Hermione glared at Remus and squeezed Draco’s
hand tighter. “Classy, wolf.”
Remus just shrugged.
“Your godfather just threatened me, Granger,” Draco murmured to Hermione, pulling her
almost on his lap, clearly using her as a protective barrier.
“He wouldn’t—”
“He made you cry once.” Remus replied and winked at Draco, “I couldn’t let it pass.”
Severus behind her swatted at Draco’s ear, “Remove your hands.”
Draco rolled his eyes but allowed Hermione to return to her original position next to him.
They waited for almost another half an hour before the Floo flared and Narcissa and Harry
stepped out. Thankfully, Harry still wore Draco’s face.
Sirius was on Harry at once, pulling him into his arms. The boy’s hair began turning black
again mid-hug.
“Don’t be such a Gryffindor.” Narcissa scowled and then pulled a small golden cup from her
purse and put it down on the table between them.
“That’s it, then?” Remus asked.
“What else could it be? I told you I’d get it done.” She replied. There was something in her
tone, an edge, something had happened.
He watched her. Narcissa ignored his look.
Remus got to his feet, “Do you want to be the one to destroy it?” He asked Narcissa.
“I already was the one to fetch it.” She replied with disdain, “Do I have to do everything
now?”
Remus raised his hands in a clear ‘You know what? Never mind’ gesture and walked towards
Harry, going to check on him as well.
Narcissa turned to her son, “Let’s go Draco. The sooner we return, the less we might pay.”
“Yes, Mother.”
Hermione grabbed the boy desperately, looking terrified of letting him go. “Draco—”
The boy kissed her, holding her cheeks in his hands. Too brave for Severus’ tastes. “Don’t
worry about me, love.” He told her. “I will see you again in the castle.”
She nodded and kissed him again, “I love you,” she whispered against his lips.
“I love you too.” He replied and pried her hands away from his dress shirt.
Severus noted how quickly Theodore was to hold her hands in exchange.
Harry returned Draco’s wand to him and the pair nodded to one another before he and
Narcissa stepped inside the Floo.
“That was a hasty exit from Narcissa,” Severus commented, finding space to check for
himself that the boy was okay. “What happened?” He asked.
The boy chuckled and shook his head, “She changed the plan the moment we arrived at
Diagonal Alley.” Severus tensed.
Sirius swore, “That lying, conniving, slippery—”
"You made me promise to listen to her," He said. Harry was amused and too unbothered for
something bad happening that it eased Severus’ nerves. “There's something called the Thief’s
Downfall,” Harry said and Sirius swore a bit more. Because of course, Narcissa hadn’t
forgotten that. “She explained what it did and that we needed to wait for the Polyjuice to
wear off. I entered the bank as Draco and we went to a private room so the goblin with us
could analyse the Locket. When the goblin accepted her terms—she promised the diadem as
well, by the way—We revealed my identity, using my wand to prove it and answering some
questions that only I could know.” Harry told them and then he smirked in a way that Severus
almost thought there were remains of the Polyjuice in his system, “They might not care about
wizard affairs, but they do care about the Chosen One and his Potter vault.” He said with a
satisfied grin, “The goblin took us on the cart and stopped it in the middle of the ride to wait
for the potion and then we crossed it with no problems.”
“And the Horcrux? How did you find it?”
“That almost went sideways.” Harry confessed, “Mrs Malfoy was smart enough to cast for
existing spells inside and it revealed a Gemino and Flagrante Curse on every item moments
before I picked something up out of curiosity.” He told them.
It was Hermione who scolded him, “How many times have I told you to not just touch
things!” She snapped.
The boy shrugged sheepishly, “But anyway, we kept our hands to ourselves and it took us a
while to find it, there is a huge ton of shit there—”
Severus sighed, “Language.”
“—but I remembered how you told me to ask for stairs in Parseltongue that time when we
went down the Chamber and I guessed that I could actually actively speak to it instead of just
passively waiting for the thing to notice me.” He told them and despite Severus feeling a bit
of pride at Harry’s resourcefulness, it also unnerved him to have the boy freely speaking
Parseltongue. “I asked where it was and I followed its ‘here' and ‘I'm here, Master’.”
Master.
The three adults were unsettled by it, but it was Sirius who hugged the boy again and
whispered that he had gone a good job.
Harry kept his eyes on Severus while he let himself be hugged by Sirius and the moment the
man pulled back, Harry asked, “This is what you are hiding, isn’t it?”
Severus took a deep breath before nodding. Hermione made a small noise of surprise and
Harry turned to his sister. “Did he tell you or did you find out?”
“I found out. The day we found the Diadem.”
Harry chuckled, but there was an edge of desperation in his tone, almost as though the
knowledge hadn’t fully been processed. “You are way too smart, Sis.”
“Hermione, Theodore,” Severus said, “leave us for a moment.”
“She already knows.” Harry retorted.
“What's happening?” Theodore asked, confused.
“But you deserve the right to react how you want without an audience,” Severus replied.
“You can tell them later.”
Hermione nodded before Harry could and tugged Theodore’s hand and the boy went quietly.
She kissed her brother on the cheek and Harry, clearly surprising her, pulled her into a hug.
The siblings squeezed one another. Everyone else turned to look away.
They pulled apart and Hermione and Theodore left the room. Harry turned to Remus then,
“Can—Could you—” his voice broke and Remus just nodded. “Explain to Theo.”
“Of course.”
Severus knew what Harry would do before he did, so he watched Sirius for his reaction. The
moment Harry turned to the other man to ask the same, a myriad of feelings passed through
the man’s face. “Harry—”
“You already know, don’t you?” The boy asked, Sirius nodded. “So let me have it.”
“I would never judge you or your reaction.”
“I know,” Harry said. “But I still feel the need to not disappoint you,” The boy confessed. He
was communicating. “If I'm about to learn that I have to die, let it be on my terms.”
Sirius flinched instinctively, “You won’t have to die.” He said but nodded at the boy, getting
ready to take his leave as well.
Then it was only the two of them in the room. Severus and three Horcruxes.
Severus circled the sofa and motioned that Harry sat on it, the boy moved silently. Instead of
sitting next to him, Severus kneeled by the boy’s legs and held onto Harry’s knees.
“Harry, I need to tell you something very important.” He began and Harry at once reached for
one of Severus’ hands. He let the boy hold it. “I think it’s the most important thing of all.”
“I know.”
“You are the last Horcrux.” He told the boy, his heart breaking, splintering on the carpet
around them. “The one Voldemort never intended to make. The one he doesn’t know he has
made.”
“That's why I speak Parseltongue, right? The reason I feel them and they hiss they want to be
together.”
“Yes,” Severus replied. “His body was already too weak from making the other six and when
he attempted to kill you, a baby, someone completely innocent and defenceless, his soul
splintered on its own and latched onto one of the only living things in the room.”
“Me.”
“Do you remember the prophecy?” Severus asked and the boy nodded, “He only had half of
it, that’s why he went after you, and by doing that he fulfilled the second part of the prophecy
himself.”
“He marked me as his equal.”
“Indeed. That was his first mistake.” Severus told him. “The second one was the choice of
ritual to restore his body.”
“Why?”
“By creating his body from your blood, he created the connection between you. Your
mother’s protection not only has access to your powers but to Voldemort’s as well.” Severus
explained, “Which means he can’t kill you, because killing you would mean to kill himself.
Your blood will endeavour to keep you tethered to the mortal plane as long as it has access to
a source of magic to power it.”
“But the prophecy… The 'either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while
the other survives’ thing… What does that mean, then?”
“That while he has Horcruxes, you can't be killed,” Severus told him, “because his power is
also yours.”
“I could use one of his Horcruxes?”
“Yes, but the most important thing Harry, is that Voldemort doesn’t know that. Voldemort
believes something completely different regarding this specific part of the prophecy.” Severus
clarified, “He believes that only he can kill you. That’s why all of his Death Eaters have
orders to not kill you.
“So where does this leave me?” Harry asked, “I can’t die, but as long as I live, he will have a
remaining Horcrux.”
“Harry,” Severus squeezed the hand holding his, “I need you to trust me. I need you to trust
me that the last thing I want is to put you in danger or harm you. My goal in life is to keep
you and your sister safe. Alive.”
“I know that.”
“I’ve created something that I believe will destroy the Horcrux inside you without killing
you,” Severus told him, his heart thundering in his chest.
“And I’m the only trial run to see whether it works or not,” Harry concluded.
Severus nodded. He needed to believe that it would work, the possibility otherwise was
unimaginable.
“Dumbledore has a different plan,” Severus told him. “Another way.” He finished with a
scowl.
“Let me guess, it involves my death?”
“Your sacrifice,” Severus corrected. “If all Horcruxes are destroyed save yourself before him
trying to kill you, there won’t be a Horcrux for him to come back. Dumbledore believes that
if you willingly sacrifice yourself, Voldemort’s killing curse might destroy his own Horcrux,
allowing you to survive it one more.”
“Because my mother’s sacrifice saved me once.”
Severus nodded. “It’s up to you.” He told the boy, hating every syllable. Because he’d rather
die than allow Harry to sacrifice himself, however, the alternative lay on his creation. And
being wrong would kill him just as much. “You choose what you want to do.”
Harry bit down on his lip and raised his knees to his chest, a move that showed exactly how
young the boy was. This time Severus moved up to the sofa next to him.
“So, my choices are between trusting that Dumbledore’s right and I will survive the curse yet
again if I sacrifice myself or trusting that what you created will kill only the Horcrux inside
of me, not all of me.”
Severus closed his eyes and let the pain in his chest burn. “Yes.”
“At least the result is the same if both of you are wrong.”
“Son,” Severus gasped, terrified of the idea.
“It's the third time, you know?”

“What?”
“That you say it.” Harry explained and Severus frowned, the boy’s lips lifted into a small
smile, “And every time you don’t seem to notice.”
His expression cleared and he realised what the boy had meant. Son. Was it really the third
time? He couldn’t remember. But of course, Harry would. “I'm sorry,” he said. “It's not my
place.” But gods, he wanted both of them.
“I trust you more than I trust Dumbledore,” Harry said instead. “I trust you to keep me alive.”
Severus nodded, “Thank you.”
“Theo said I can have it,” Harry said lowly and Severus only understood the meaning
because he had overheard their conversation over the boy’s birthday. “And when I called you
a grandpa you told me to stick with the other one.”
“I did.”
Harry nodded, “Make sure you don't kill me and I just might.”
Chapter End Notes
The title and the quote at the beginning belong to The Walk Home by Young the Giant.
As I said a few chapters ago, things would divert from canon from year six and this is
one of them. they have all of the Horcruxes sans the snake. That's why we say team
work makes the dream work, huh?
Please leave in the comments what you guys think!!
The next update will probably come next weekend, but if anything comes up I will say
something on twitter, it's moonyhoax
two hearts in one home
Chapter Notes
Hello!! Firstly, sorry about the immense delay!! I had to pull some extra hours at work
this week and also had my graduation so I couldn't find the time to sit down and get this
thing written!
As always, thank you for all the lovely comments! I can't believe this fic has surpassed
the 260k hits mark! feels surreal to me.
Had another talk about where it's going wrong

But we're still young
We don't know where we're going
But we know where we belong
Chapter Sixty-Five
Surprisingly, Theo was the one who took the news the worst. It had been disheartening for
him, a boy who grew up with Death so close behind and who believed he had finally outrun
it, to find it catching up again.
Harry, who had taken to a very morbid sense of humour after the news, had decided to live
life to the fullest given his imminent death (he had three different adults scolding him for
saying that) and was now getting the scolding of his life from Severus after almost coughing
up a lung after stealing one of Sirius’ packs and smoking on the roof with Theo.
She and Sirius were watching the scene happening on their side porch from the window.
Theo and Remus were probably having a similar conversation in Theo’s room.
“You keep an eye on him when you return, won’t you?”
Hermione nodded, “I always do.”
“We don’t want his rebel phase to get Severus stepping down from being a father to him,”
Sirius said. “Not when he needs it the most.”
Hermione frowned, “Parents don’t give up on their children just because it got hard.” She
said and Sirius winced, “And besides, Dad chose to fill that role for him, knowing everything
that it entails when it comes to Harry.”
“I guess you are right, kiddo.” He replied with a small, sad smile. This time it was Hermione
who winced. Walburga and Orion had. Not once after Sirius left home at sixteen did either of
them go after him. And yes, Sirius had been better off, but still. Hermione can’t imagine how
much it must have hurt.
She hugged him from the side, squeezing his middle and staying there. “We are all family
now. Only partially biological, but fully loving.”
He snorted and dropped a kiss on her hair. “I like this. Fully loving indeed.”
Severus stomped back inside, with a glowering Harry after him. Hermione and Sirius gave
the pair a wide berth when they entered the house.
“LUPIN!” Severus thundered. Hermione and Sirius exchanged a look.
Remus appeared then, with Theo behind him. “Am I suddenly deaf and no one told me?” He
asked.
Her dad ignored the comment, “We are destroying the Diadem today.”
They all grew tall at the announcement. “We are?” Sirius asked.
“Well, Harry here seems to take it as a joke when I say that Horcruxes don’t actually want to
be destroyed and that one inside a human being for fifteen years is certainly strong enough
already and will surely feast on his destructive behaviour!”
“It was one cigarette.”
Severus ignored him.
“I see my talk with Theo went better,” Remus commented with a sigh. “Where are we doing
it? Outside?”
“Are we really doing this now?” Sirius asked, “With the three of them here?”
“Yes.”
“And the cup?” Hermione asked, “Is it going to be destroyed too?”
“We might as well,” Her dad replied.
Sirius took the three of them outside, “What did you say to him?” He murmured to Harry.
Harry rolled his eyes, “That at least when I felt bleak about my future I took up smoking
instead of joining a racist cult.”
Sirius snorted, “Yeah, that would do it.”
“How did it go on your end?” Harry asked Theo.
The boy shrugged, “He said I’m of age. I can smoke if I want but he wouldn’t recommend it,
it’s a terrible vice. And that I should have communicated with him and he’d have preferred to
be present if I really wanted to try.”
Harry groaned. “He’s so… understanding.” He said, “Why did I get the sergeant one?”
Her dad and Remus had come up to them and Harry grew red in the cheeks after yet another
glare from Severus.
“Well, your bad influence got me up that roof,” Theo replied with a cheeky grin.
“I honestly don’t know which one is a worse influence on the other,” Severus commented
without sparing a glance towards them.
“Please,” the boys said at the same time, “We are bros.”
Hermione wished she could joke at the present moment, but considering they were moments
away from destroying a Horcrux, leaving them closer still to the one inside Harry, she could
only pick her nails and bite her lower lip to keep from snapping at them to be quiet.
Remus placed the box which contained the diadem on a rock. He turned to Sirius, “Get them
behind a shield.” Sirius nodded and cast one, but also pulled them farther away from the
thing. “Severus will do it, but…Well, we needed help that time.”
Her dad flicked the box open with his wand and for a moment nothing happened. He
removed the dagger embedded with basilisk venom from his pocket and held it in his hand.
They waited. He took a step closer. Harry next to her took a step back and took his hand to
his scar.
In front of them, an uncannily Lily Evans stood.
“Mum…” Harry gasped and tried to get closer, but Sirius kept a hold of him.
“It's not her Harry,” Sirius said, his voice odd and distant.
“Just do it, Severus,” Remus said, “Don't let it start speaking.”
But her dad still seemed in shock at seeing Lily again and the vision or whatever the hell was
smarter and spoke, “You failed me, Sev.”
“Fuck,” Remus cursed, Sirius was trembling next to them. The voice. It was the voice she
heard when Dementors were near and the voice she heard when Sirius crossed.
“I knew you would.” Horcrux-Lily said, “I knew you would fail me.”
“Lily—”
“All those years… Suffering, starving, being beaten… And you? Didn’t bother to check. Was
this your promise?” Her dad staggered as the Horcrux-Lily got nearer, “Do they look safe to
you?”
The vision changed and Hermione gasped. Because on the grass on each of Lily’s sides, lay
Harry and Hermione, dead. Open eyes and frozen eyes. Severus fell to his knees, a sob tore to
his throat and he screamed. Remus too, rushed forward, tripping on the way as he threw
himself over Hermione’s dead body.
“No,” he cried, “No, no, no.” Hermione closed her eyes, gripping Harry’s hand strong enough
to draw blood from his palm. He didn’t seem to care, he was holding her hand just as tightly.
“My girl,” her dad cried, “My—”
“You killed her,” Horcrux-Lily said, “you promised to protect her but you killed her instead.”
Harry tried to rush forward, but only then he - and Hermione - realised that Sirius was
holding them in a vicious grip, his eyes dead watching the scene.
“Any closer and you will be pulled into the scene.” He said, but Hermione doubted he was
even aware of it.
The Horcrux-Lily had leaned over them and from where they were, they couldn’t hear what
she said, but it couldn’t be good, because it wrangled yet another scream from Severus and
Remus.
Her godfather’s pain pulled on their bond and she remembered how he hadn’t felt it last time,
how she’d called and gone unanswered because they had been trying to destroy the locket.
Feeling the tsunami of pain coming from him in waves that left her gasping for breath, she
shouted, “It's not real!”
At the sound of her voice, the pair of them turned around, their eyes red and glassed,
“Hermione?”
“I'm here.” She said, trying to get closer but unable to fight against Sirius’ grip. “We are
here.”
“Look at what you’ve done.” The Horcrux-Lily said, “Did you really believe you would be
able to save them?” and the last thing Hermione could see before a mist blanketed their view
was her and Harry on their knees pleading for her dad to spare her.
“Fuck!” Sirius shouted.
“We can’t stay here!” Harry said, “They need help!”
“There's no guarantee we won’t see something awful the moment we go through the mist.”
Sirius hissed and then, “Stab the fucking thing!” He shouted.
Sirius' shout made all of them start shouting.
Kill it!
Stab it!
Don’t listen to it!

It’s not real!
They continued to scream and Hermione tugged at her and Remus’ bond fiercely.
Remus tugged back a moment before the mist disappeared.
The vision was gone and both men were kneeling side by side on the grass with hunched
shoulders. Sirius dropped the shield at once and they all ran towards them.
“I’m here,” she said, jumping on her dad’s side, “I'm here Dad,” she repeated. He shuddered
at the sound of her voice and pulled her to his chest.
He looked around and found Harry hesitating next to them. Severus grabbed onto Harry’s
sleeves and pulled her brother down, desperately trying to fit him in the hug.
“I'm alive.” Harry said, “I'm all right.”
“I'm so sick of these things,” Remus muttered and Hermione looked up to see the other three
all had arms thrown around one another.
“I'm sorry,” Harry mumbled, his green eyes shining with unshed tears as he looked up at
Severus, “I’m sorry.”
“Oh, Harry,” He said, holding Harry’s face, “Never your fault.”
“But…What if… What if I say…”
“Don't worry about it now.” He said.
“Fiendfyre can destroy a Horcrux, right?” Theo asked, out of nowhere. Remus nodded.
“What if…no one gets too close to the cup to destroy it?”
“Fiendfyre is a very powerful spell. Few wizards know how to control it.” Remus said, “It's
too risky.”
“I know,” Theo said and his face took a mournful expression, “But… There’s a room at Nott
Estate.” He said, “It could hold the flames. Adeodatus used to… He…” Theo shuddered and
took a deep breath, “He enjoyed watching them burn.” He said.
Hermione felt like the entire air around her was now inside her lungs. Her chest hurt and
Remus seemed horrified at the thought. Of them.
But her dad was nodding, “We can look into the spells in place.” He said, “I believe we will
be able to find how it can be done—”
“Likely there’s something in the grimoire.” Sirius said, “Mother loved herself a torture room.
Hermione winced.
Severus nodded and with another squeeze on both her and Harry’s arms, he got to his feet,
taking them with him and keeping them close. “I’d better go,” he said. “I will see the three of
you back in the castle.”
No one forgot the destruction of the Horcrux for the rest of the holiday and the things they
saw and heard would often become the topic of the conversation.
They also dealt with it in different ways. There had been no more smoking attempts, but a
dummy Remus conjured from a tree had ended up in singes after Harry had finished with it.
Hermione had her nose buried in the Black family grimoire while Theo sat next to her
reading tomes of books on Runes because the only thing he remembered from that room was
a rune pattern on the door that kept him from even coming closer to it.
When they went to Grimmauld Place to meet the escort that would accompany them on the
train ride to the castle in early January alongside the Weasleys, they got surprised by a visit
from the Minister of Magic. He wanted to speak to Harry, of course, but Sirius thankfully was
stubborn enough to let Harry go by himself.
Afterwards, Hermione pretended she didn’t see how Harry almost cried saying goodbye to
Sirius and Remus.
“We will see you at Easter,” Sirius promised.
“And then in the summer again,” Remus vowed.
Harry nodded.
They got inside the train together, but Harry decided to share a compartment with Ron,
Ginny, Luna and Neville, Hermione and Theo kept going to find the other Slytherins.
As they began talking to Blaise, Pansy and Daphne, Theo and Hermione exchanged a glance
that clearly translated into ‘it was only two weeks , because it certainly seemed that between
the Christmas dinner with the Malfoys, the bank robbery, the diadem and all the reading,
aeons had passed since they last saw the others.
Pansy and Theo left the compartment half the journey to attend to their Prefect’s duties.
When they returned almost an hour later, Pansy had the widest smile on her face and the most
brilliant green eyes. “You won’t guess the conversation I just overheard between your brother
and his pet weasel.”
Blaise snorted, “Overheard, sure. More like snooped.”
“I didn’t know there was a difference,” She said, “Anyways. Weasel wasn’t happy about
Christmas arrangements.” Pansy told them, “He was complaining that Harry spent the entire
break with you and not at the Burrow with his family. And then Harry said ‘They are my
family’” - and here she copied Harry’s tone - “but Weasel of course had to put his foot on his
mouth again and said that he understood Hermione and Sirius, since they were his sister and
godfather. But not Professor Snape or Malfoy. What does Malfoy have to do with all of this?”
“Draco and Narcissa had Christmas dinner with us,” Hermione explained.
Pansy whistled, “That explains why he had his knickers in a twist during the Prefect’s
meeting.”
“And why he was glaring at me the entire time,” Theo added.
“That was because you used ‘brother’ to talk about Harry twice.” She replied.
Theo smirked and shrugged. Pansy shook her head.
“He already has ten siblings, why is he so bothered that his best friend gets a half-sister and a
step-brother.”
“Technically,” Blaise raised a finger, “Hermione and I are step-siblings now. Theo and Harry
are whatever ‘my adopted father is in a relationship with his godfather’ are.”
Daphne sighed in exasperation, “Hardly step-siblings when your mother’s newest

engagement was announced over New Year’s.” She said, “Unless Hermione’s father is yet
again another man.”
“That's why I began my sentence with technically.” Blaise retorted.
“Anyways!” Pansy said, calling the attention back to her, “Most importantly, our favourite
Chosen One said that Hermione’s friends had all accepted him and become friendly with him
—”
From Blaise, “Define friendly, Pansy.”
“—he even added that Draco was— his words— ‘a nice enough bloke when he has his
girlfriend on his lap’—”
From Hermione, “Charming,”
“—while Weasel still insisted on treating us like we are nothing more than Death Eater’s
scum—”
From Daphne, “Well, you do curse him at every given chance.”
“—and the only one of Harry’s friends who didn’t make an effort to try with us.”
From Theo, “Define effort, Pansy.”
That got her stopping. “What is that supposed to mean?” She asked. Her perfectly plucked
eyebrows frowned.
“An honest question,” Theo said, his face didn’t show a hint of amusement, “Is effort here
being defined as Ginny Weasley playing Quidditch with Blaise and me or as Neville being
both long and a bottom?”
Pansy grew red in the face and Hermione choked on her saliva. Daphne had to whack her
back to get Hermione breathing again.
“What did we miss?” Blaise asked, already smirking and looking between Pansy, Theo and
Hermione.”
Pansy quickly recovered, “Interesting.” She said, “He shared with the group.”
“I think he shared a bit more with Theo than what he shared with the group,” Hermione said.
Theo smirked, “Oh boy, that he did.”
“What?” Blaise asked, getting too curious.
“That's between bros, love.”
“I'm your boyfriend!”
“Bros before hoes.” Theo shrugged.
Hermione fell into a fit of giggles as Blaise expressed his indignation.
Finally, as the train began to slow down as they arrived in the Highlands, the dark cloud
around Hermione and Theo thinned.
Dumbledore called for Harry almost as soon as they returned from the Christmas break, and
later Harry told him about what he had learned about Voldemort’s past, the true reason why
Dumbledore had wanted to hire Slughorn in the first place and what he wanted from Harry.
But the boy was smart enough to use his place as Slughorn’s favourite student to try and get
the memory out of him. And despite having failed at that, Severus thought Harry had gained
something much more valuable afterwards.
By retelling his conversation with Dumbledore, Severus learned that Fawkes was extremely
taken with the boy - Severus even awarded Harry five points after telling Dumbledore he told
the Minister he was ‘Dumbledore's man through and through’. It was amazing how far they
could go when they stroked the old man’s ego. Severus was proud to see that Harry had
realised it as well.
Because they needed Fawkes. Better than buying a vial of phoenix’s tears, it would be to
have willingly shed tears, especially for Harry. And Severus was willing to barter more of his
freedom with the headmaster if it meant they got an extra addition to their only chance at
saving Harry.
Coincidently, on the anniversary of the day Lily wrote Severus about his fatherhood, Sirius
Black wrote him that one of the rooms at Grimmauld Place could now contain Fiendfyre.
Severus wrote back asking that they waited a bit more.
According to Narcissa, who had been in the room with Voldemort the moment Severus and
Remus had managed to stab that cursed Diadem, Voldemort hadn’t shown any indication that
he felt his Horcruxes being destroyed, much less that he knew he only had three left.
As it was, he still left the snake to stroll around the Manor unattended or would send it to
Merlin-knew-where. He didn’t seem more careful or protective of the monster, which was
another tip on their side.
Narcissa even wrote that if she wasn’t certain Draco would become an orphan if she tried, she
could kill it. Severus understood it as Voldemort purposely sending the snake around the
Malfoy Matriarch. A reminder and a warning.
Harry continued to out-perform everyone in Potions to Severus’ rising suspicion and

Hermione’s growing annoyance. He would have to stop either of them to inquire about the
boy’s newfound brilliance in Potions.
At the beginning of February, the sixth years had their first Apparition lesson at the Great
Hall and he - as well as all the other Head of Houses - had to be present to supervise the
entire thing. He watched his students, glared at Minerva for calling Draco out and then
watched as Harry moved across the hall to stand next to Draco Malfoy.
Honestly, not a moment of peace.
Thankfully, the first lesson ended with just one student getting splinched and Severus decided
it was a good day overall.
But it was on Valentine’s Day that Severus considered packing up his things and leaving
everything behind. Both his kids included.
“I want to do it.” Harry had said as a greeting. The boy was supposed to be in Hogsmeade.
Severus kept brewing but took notice of the barely buttoned shirt and the
extra mess on top of the boy’s head. His cheeks were pink and he sounded breathless, like
someone who had just run a marathon.
“What?”
“The Not-Killing-Me thing,” Harry explained. “I want to do it soon.”
Severus frowned, “Why?”
“Because I just had a threesome.”
Severus’ very steady hand shook and for the first time in years, he messed up a potion. Not a
marathon, then. He blinked. And then blinked again. As the wrong-coloured fumes spiralled
from his cauldron, he could only blurt, “That bad?”
“What?” Harry asked, “No!” He said, “The opposite.”
“I don’t understand.” He said, truly, honest to Merlin, Morgana and Nimueh together
befuddled at the turn this conversation was taking.
“Isn't this how the saying goes?” The boy asked.
“I dread to hear what saying are you thinking about.”
“After something good or that you really wanted happens? We say, ‘I could die happy now.’”
Severus blinked again.
Certainly, James Potter was alive and the past sixteen years had been a long-standing prank to
get Severus to this exact position and hear with his very ears, Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-
Lived, the Chosen One say he could die now because he had had a threesome. Severus was
certain James Potter would cross the door and shout ‘Merlin! Your face Snivellus! You
should have seen it!’
“Your…sexual enterprises notwithstanding, we are actually doing it soon.” He told the boy.
“We are?”
“Yes,” Severus replied, “Your godfather wrote to me that the cup has been destroyed as of
yesterday.”
“Really?” Harry asked, his eyes wide, “He didn’t tell me.”
“We didn’t want you to get anxious.” Severus said, “Clearly, that wasn’t necessary.”
Harry nodded, “I know I just said it, but I’d appreciate it if I didn’t die though.”
Severus was tired. “Why? So you can repeat your threesome?”
Harry only smirked. “Maybe.”
Severus exhaled. And then inhaled deeply. And exhaled once more. “I hope you are at least
using protection.” Harry cocked his head to the side. Severus sighed. “Get your ass in the
chair right now.”
Azkaban was really cold. Hermione hated it. And she was still only standing on the other
shore.
“We can turn back,” Tonks said.
“No,” Hermione said. She would do this.
“Okay,” Tonks said, squeezing her shoulder. “You have one hour. Maybe less if Shacklebolt
gets that notice to them faster than we hoped.”
Hermione nodded and took a step forward. Tonks followed her. They got inside the boat and
crossed in silence.
Tonks cast her Patronus halfway into the cross, and Hermione followed suit.
“He will have been moved to the visitor’s cell,” Tonks explained, “I will be standing outside
the door. If you need anything, you just shout.
Hermione nodded again.
The process to enter the prison was simple, as there were not many people who wanted to
visit the prisoners inside. Hermione had to register her wand and sign her name. One of the
guards ran a series of rules as they took her and Tonks to where Lucius was waiting.
“Ready?” Tonks asked.
“Yes.”
“I'm right outside.”
Hermione opened the door and stepped inside. She wasn’t afraid of him, because she had
never been and seeing him behind bars wouldn’t make it the first time. But she was worried
about how she would see him.
Sirius had looked terrible and he had been out for almost a year when they saw him.
“When they told me I had a visitor, you were the last person I had in mind.” Lucius Malfoy
said upon seeing her. It was true, she could see in the rare display of surprise in his eyes.
He looked filthy. He didn’t look like Lucius Malfoy at all. His face had a crazed look, and his
long hair was grey and in disarray.
She felt pity. She felt sorry for him. Hermione knew Lucius deserved it. This cell was exactly
what he deserved for what he had done. A part of her felt vindictive. Avenged. He had kicked
her out of his house and now he was the one locked up away from his ancestral home.
But he had saved her.
“Do you know why I came?” She asked him and surprised him yet again by coming closer to
the bars, wrapping her hands around them and almost pressing her head in the middle.
Hermione was well aware this behaviour was frowned upon in a high-security prison.
He got closer as well, coming to stand right in front of her, resting his hands just above hers
on the bars. It was probably the closest the two of them had ever gotten. If one forgot that
small hug incident in her third year. “I could never even begin to understand your mind,
Hermione.” He said and maybe it was the imprisonment, maybe it was the absolute cold in
that prison, but she could swear his voice came out soft.
“I learned something about your Lord.” She told him, her voice low so it wouldn’t carry.
“Did you know that he’s more half-blood than I am?” She asked him and because they were
that close, she saw the exact change in colour and how the black grew and stole space from
the exact same grey as Draco’s. “You are sleeping on rags on the floor because of a man
whose father was a muggle.” She told him, not kindly. Her voice was as icy as the wind that
howled around them. “Your sixteen-year-old son has a horrendous mark on his arm because
you chose to follow a deranged half-blood.”
His eyes widened and pain flashed through his features. “No,” He gasped, “Draco—”
“Draco is paying for your mistake.”
“And my Cissy, how’s—”
“You left her alone under the same roof as him, Uncle.” She said and hated herself for
slipping out that word. He didn’t deserve it anymore. Maybe he never did. Her relationship
with Lucius Malfoy was the most complicated one.
“Uncle,” he repeated, seeming as surprised as her. “I thought I had lost that.”
Hermione didn’t dare to say how much he had lost. “It’s flimsy now.” She said instead and he
chuckled. He looked so much like Draco. “I will do my best to protect him.” She told Lucius.
“I will protect Draco from what you did, Uncle. Because you saved my life then. Twice. But I
won’t forgive you for what you did to him. For what you did to Narcissa. I don’t think it’s
fair that you don’t get to witness the aftermath of your errors on your family.” He looked
down, but Lucius looked saner than he looked when she arrived. There was a new resolution
in his eyes. “If you get out of here. If you get a second chance go back to your home, the one
you took from me—” she accused, voice shaky. Hermione didn’t need to tell him she hadn’t
forgiven him for that either. He knew. “If you get a second chance with your family, do not
throw them away for a lying bastard that calls himself a Lord but is far beneath any of his
closest followers in this stupid nonsense you like to call blood purity.”
“He's not—”
“But he is.”
“Salazar—”
“His mother was a descent of Slytherin, yes, but his father was a muggle in the village. She
was so in love with him that she used a love potion on him. A love potion on a muggle.”
Lucius looked disgusted. Good, she thought.
“How?”
“I’m not telling you that.”
She said and backed away a bit, ready to give the last blow. The one she was fairly sure it
would be it. The one she hoped would be it. Hermione shrugged for effect, “He has taken
over your ancestral home, maybe he’s a Lord after all.”
Lucius’ eyes widened, she saw panic. Real fear as his hands tightened around the bars. His
mouth opened and closed around the letters of Narcissa’s name.
“Hermione, you need—”
“You kicked me out Uncle, remember?” Her voice shook. “I can’t get her out.”
“He—She—My Cissy—” he was desperate.
Hermione got closer to the bars again and whispered. “Sirius Black managed thirteen years
without losing his mind. He kept his wits because he knew he was innocent. He gained
strength because he found conviction in making it right after leaving. It’s been months,
Uncle.” She snapped. “Get it together. You have to be the husband and father I know you
are,” Hermione snarled. “Stop wallowing in misery and find a way to make the right choice
for them when you get the chance.”
Slowly, Lucius uncurled one hand from the bar and reached for her. She didn’t flinch and
watched frozen as he rested it on her wet cheek.
“You are an exquisite thing, Hermione.” He told her. “Thank you, my girl. I will.”
“Promise me,” she cried.
“You and I, we are the same.” He told her with a small smile. “We can't bear to lose them.”
He said and Hermione heard the promise in his voice. Lucius let his hand fall and Hermione
nodded.
She had done what she had come here to do.
And when she left the prison, she found an irate-looking Remus Lupin on the other side. She
saw him cast his patronus and send it away with a message before their boat reached the
shore.
All the disappointment she had tried to escape from his letter was now standing in front of
her. There, with his eyebrows pulled down, in the downward curve of his mouth and the drop
of his shoulders.
Tonks stepped forward, “Lupin, I—”
“You’ve done enough,” he cut her off. “I will be taking her back to the castle now.”
Hermione turned back to Tonks and offered her a small smile, “Thank you, Tonks.”
She nodded but seemed a bit reluctant to allow Hermione to take the blame alone. “It really
was my idea and—”
“I doubt it,” Remus said and offered his hand to Hermione, who took it and didn’t get a
warning before he Apparated away with her.
Hermione felt dizzy when she arrived and he steadied her. He waited for her feet to grow
accustomed before he turned on her, “What the hell were you thinking?”
“I wanted to see him.”
“You were supposed to be in Hogsmeade!” He said and Hermione noticed that he had
Apparated them to the edge of the village, where the Hogwarts’ wards ended. “None of your
friends knew where you were!”
“It's Valentine’s Day, I didn’t think they’d notice…”
“You are all obsessed with one another,” Okay, that was an exaggeration. "How could you
think that?”
“I—”
“Hermione, you can’t do things like this. I honestly thought you were more responsible than
that,” She lowered her head, “Not only Azkaban is a terrible place to be - and one you know
that none of us would allow you to go there -, do you have any idea how worried everyone
got when they realised you were gone? That our first thought was that some Death Eater had
gotten you?”
She hadn’t.
“I'm sorry.”
“What happened to the girl who wrote to me the moment her brother’s name came out of the
Goblet of Fire? To the girl who desperately called for me before following Harry to the
Ministry?” He asked her, and Hermione would have preferred if he had gone through the
screaming route.
“People are trying to take everyone she loves from her.” She murmured, “I—I knew I could
have asked, told you or Dad, but I didn’t want to risk getting a no. I didn’t want the
opportunity to be taken from me. When Tonks said she could get me there… I took it.”
“You can’t take everything you want, Hermione.” He replied. Merlin, he sounded so
disappointed, it was like every word of his cut deep inside of her. “You can’t find yourself a
trip to Azkaban without considering the consequences. What if someone had seen you? We
don't know how much control the Ministry have over the prison, what if word got out that
you went there to see Lucius Malfoy? Did you stop to think about how that could affect
Narcissa or Draco? That Voldemort is one request away from asking Severus to bring you to
him? That he could do it if he suspected even slightly that any of them held any feelings for
you? Forget all of them!”
Her eyes burned and the panic seemed to settle inside her chest. She didn’t think. She found a
way in and she took it. Hermione considered that all of her friends had dates of their own for
Valentine’s Day, and her boyfriend had yet another detention. She figured she’d be back
before anyone realised she was gone.
“I didn’t think.”
“Your behaviour worries me,” he told her. “I told you during the summer that you must be
careful not to do something you can’t walk away from. You are brilliant, pup but you are not
invincible.”
“I'm sorry.” She said and the tears rolled down her cheeks, and her throat hurt, “I—
Everything is slipping away,” Hermione confessed. Her heart was a stone inside her chest,
“How can I go to classes, focus on my studies, do my homework when on my right Draco is
flailing with his mission, eating less every day and getting sick over it, and on my left, Harry
has to pretend that death isn’t his shadow, that he isn’t terrified of it. And in front of me?”
She let out an exasperated laugh that quickly turned into a sob, “Dad is being pulled in so
many directions, he’s playing so many parts and it’s on his hands—” another sob, “my
brother’s and my boyfriend’s lives are on his hands, literally and there’s nothing, nothing I
can do. I can’t help them. I can’t—” she was beginning to feel overwhelmed now, her
breathing coming erratically and her tears blurring her vision, “I can’t face Voldemort for
what he’s putting the people I love through, but I could face Lucius for what he caused
Draco.” She said, this time firmly. “And I took it.”
Remus nodded.
“Did he get your piece of mind then?” Remus asked. Hermione nodded. “I took it too,” he
said, “years ago, I was a bit older than you when I discovered who had bitten me. I took it
then.”
“Did it help?” Hermione asked.
“A bit. For a while.” He confessed, “I didn’t know the worse was yet to come.”
“I need this to be the worst, Moony.” She cried and walked towards him, he hugged her and
she breathed in against his shirt, he smelled like home. “I can’t handle it if it isn’t.”
Remus squeezed her but didn’t make any promises.
Her friends were - rightfully - angry at her. She had frightened all of them with her
disappearance. Theo had straight up stopped talking to her. Pansy had lasted five days before
she gave up and said she could be angry later but she just really wanted to tell Hermione
something. And honestly, with the amount of details Pansy supplied, Hermione preferred to
remain in the dark.
Her dad was furious and he removed her Hogsmeade rights until graduation. Harry laughed
and said he had gotten the same thing last year but it was revoked. Hermione was quite sure
her father wouldn’t change his mind.
Draco and Harry were the only ones not angry at her. The latter because he usually partook in
questionable behaviours as well and didn't have the moral ground to be angry at her and the
former because he didn’t have any choice. Draco had broken down a few days after
Valentine’s Day, cornering her with dark circles under his eyes and cheeks so sunken
Hermione was certain she could see all his bones. He hadn’t even finished asking for her help
when she said yes.
In the end, it turned out that Harry had been right. It was the Vanishing Cabinet they spotted
that day when they found the Diadem that needed fixing. The one where its pair was sitting at
Borgin & Burkes.
Because Hermione was still very sensible, she started by picking up where he was failing in
class. She did all of his homework and assignments, which allowed him room to breathe and
an escape from the numerous detentions he had been getting for keeping missing deadlines.
For a terribly short month, however, February wasn’t yet done. The last days of the month
brought the news her family was both anxious and dreading: her dad would try to remove the
Horcrux from Harry.
Her brother wanted all of them with him - Hermione, Ron, Theo, Sirius and Remus -, just in
case, he had said. No one dared to say the rest out loud.
They found a way to be dismissed from classes in a believable way. Theo, who was still not
speaking to her, found it all too easy to use his anger to cast a well-aimed spell at Ron during
Defence and they were all very quick to get the situation to escalate. Harry defended Ron by
firing at Theo, and Hermione defended Theo by firing at Harry. Quickly, the four of them
were jinxed and hexed enough to be sent to Madam Pomfrey and later collected by one
Severus Snape.
Her dad was the Secret Keeper for Remus and Sirius’ place, so Ron was now able to Floo
with them. Hermione stayed quiet, but it thoroughly annoyed her that Ron now could go to
their home. Until then, it had been a place that was only theirs. Their family.
But it was about Harry and Hermione would save her comments to herself. She silently
watched him as he observed the living room. After the first photo Sirius had taken when their
O.W.Ls results came, he became obsessed and began snapping pictures of them at every
chance he got, and now they were everywhere. Ron was trying very hard to pretend he wasn’t
looking at them.
Ron had asked why Theo was coming too, and now he was seeing why: sprawled shirtless on
the grass after swimming in their pool, racing each other on their brooms, trying to memorise
Trivia cards while still in their matching pyjamas. Various glimpses of a life they shared
outside Hogwarts, a life Ron hadn’t touched.
Her dad had been speaking, but she didn’t hear much, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts and
worries, but the adults were moving and Hermione snapped her attention just in time to see
Sirius returning with a blindfold and Harry sitting down on the sofa.
“—Better to not chance him seeing any of us.” Her dad said.
Harry nodded because he had been paying attention and he grabbed the piece of cloth from
Sirius and held it in his palm.
“How do you want to do it?” Sirius asked, kneeling on the floor in front of Harry.
Green eyes met hers, “I want you with me,” he said. “You were holding me when he arrived,
right? I want that.”
She vowed not to cry and used her Occlumency to make sure it didn’t happen. Hermione
nodded and moved to the sofa. She sat down, cross-legged and her back to the armrest, Harry
laid down with his head on her lap, he looked up and gave her a small smile. “I think you
were smaller then.” She joked and he grinned. Hermione buried her fingers in his hair and
massaged his scalp. “That's nice,” he said and closed his eyes for a moment.
They were all circling him, Theo and Remus were standing a little to the back around Harry’s
shoulders, while Ron was sitting at the edge of the sofa by Harry’s feet. Both Sirius and
Severus were kneeling, Sirius had one of Harry’s hands on his and Severus was waiting by
Harry’s head.
Her brother looked up at her dad, “I do trust you,” he said, “so this will just be cringe
afterwards but—” he looked to Sirius, “I love you, thank you for everything.” Sirius nodded
and he was also doing his best not to cry. Harry looked at Ron next, “Thank you for being the
best friend a guy could ask,” Ron nodded, squeezing Harry’s calf. Harry found Theo and
Remus next, “You were the first one to tell me something real about my parents, I never
thanked you for that. Thank you for making a family real to me.”
“Don't get sappy on me,” Theo warned when Harry looked at him.
Harry only chuckled, “You are not my favourite sibling, but thank you for having me.” Theo
nodded and Hermione saw how Theo gripped Remus’ hand a bit tighter. Severus was next,
“Thank you for everything you did and keep doing for me.”
“Always.”
Harry looked up and then, found her eyes again, “I love you so much, sis.” He told her, “I’m
so glad to have you.”
“I love you too,” she said and lowered her head to drop a kiss on his forehead.
“Harry,” Dad called, “Remember the lessons. Try to clear your mind and keep only the
positive things. Push away your fears, don’t let them come to the surface.” Harry nodded,
“put the blindfold now.” Hermione helped him do it, fixing it for him and then gripping one
of his hands in hers, while the other remained in his hair. “It might hurt,” Dad said, Harry
gave a sharp nod, and Hermione squeezed his hand.
“I'm ready.”
“Okay. I will drop it now. We are here with you, son.”
She could feel how much tenser Harry got, but he didn’t say anything, just held tighter to
both her and Sirius.
The vial was small and the liquid inside was silvery, he tipped a drop onto Harry’s forehead,
right against the scar and Harry screamed. Hermione kept her hold on him as he trashed, her
gaze fixed on her brother. She knew the others had reacted because she could hear the
anxious ‘What's happening?’ and ‘What’s wrong?’ from around the room but she didn’t look
away.
Her dad kept muttering incantations, a song-like thing that she couldn’t understand the words.
It could have been Latin, but also any other ancient language. The ring on his finger, the one
she just then noticed was a family ring, seemed to be vibrating with magic. Harry still
screamed and his words came in Parseltongue. She was partially glad because it meant none
of them could really understand what he was saying.
Sirius was trying to soothe him, a mantra of ‘we are here, you will be fine, we got you’ that
Harry seemed unable to hear. Hermione kept running her fingers through his hair, a silent
prayer very similar to Sirius’.
Harry’s scar was bleeding, the blood dripping down and under the blindfold. Harry’s voice
was getting rough from all the screaming and even Ron and Remus had moved to help hold
Harry still.
Her dad was beginning to sweat under the effort the spell must be having on him, but he kept
singing the words, his wand poised on top of Harry’s scar.
Harry screamed and trashed until a dark, slimy substance began oozing out of his scar in
place of blood. Then he fell silent and unmoving. Hermione was acutely aware of how silent
it had gotten. Everyone was looking at Severus, waiting and anxious, but Hermione kept her
gaze down because she could feel her brother with her. She guessed Sirius could too because
he was waiting very still.
Severus removed another vial and placed it under, scooping all the liquid. They waited for a
moment until the very last of the substance seemed to leave Harry’s body. Only when the
black substance became a pearly liquid, did Severus sigh and drop his shoulders.
“Harry?” She called, her voice barely louder than a whisper, “Can you hear me?”
He squeezed her hand weekly and she gasped, “It hurts.” He said, his voice rough after
abusing his throat so much. But it was English and not Parseltongue.
There was a collective exhale and she carefully removed the blindfold of him and used it to
wipe the blood that had smeared his face.
“How do you feel?” Her dad asked, examining Harry with hundreds of diagnosis spells.
“Like my head was split open,” Harry replied, and Hermione immediately dropped her
forehead against his. Finally able to breathe properly again. “I have a terrible headache, but…
at the same time I feel… well, now wetter.” He finished with a chuckle and Hermione half
sobbed half laughed because she was crying on him.
“It was expected,” Severus replied, his voice was controlled and Hermione could hear how
much he was holding his emotions in check. “We didn’t know how deep the Horcrux had
gone, but I guessed it had to be far if you had the Parseltongue skill.”
“How do we know for sure?” Ron asked, “That it worked.”
“The first thing we—Hermione, could you please stop crying on top of your brother, I need to
check his vitals.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She said and sniffled, pulling away and allowing Harry to sit up. Looking
around she realised the Sirius didn’t look much better than her. She got to her feet, giving
space to her dad cast the necessary spells. Instinctively, she went to stand next to Theo and
when he put a distance between them, she remembered.
She pretended not to notice.
If you pull that again Hermione… we are done. He had warned her at the end of last year.
And he reminded her after she returned from her visit to Azkaban.
Severus continued, “The first thing we can do is to check if he can still speak Parseltongue,”
He said. “Then, watch for any signs of emotions that Harry doesn’t recognise as his own, or
if he still has any dreams.
“But the risk is gone, right?” Theo asked, “Like, he's not going to drop dead any second
now?”
“Yes, the risk is gone.” Her dad replied.
“Thank fuck,” he said, sitting down on the armchair. “Fucking stressful the whole thing.”
“Theo,” Remus sighed, “What did I say about cursing like a sailor in front of Severus?”
“Fuck sorry, to not do it. Yeah—shit. Did it again. Sorry, Dad.”
But Harry was already grinning and that was the only thing they cared about. “So, get me a
snake, let’s see if I still have it.”
“Serpensortia!” Dad cast and the snake appeared on the floor. Theo jumped and cursed a bit
more.
Sirius jumped to the side and then up on the other armchair. Ron got his legs up, almost
perching up on the sofa.
The creature hissed at all of them.
“A warning! Maybe?” Sirius barked.
But Harry was looking at the snake, “Hi?” Harry said, tilting his head to the side.
“No, mate.” Ron said, “That's English.”
“Hm,” Harry smirked, and then said, “Go after Theo.”
“Hey!” Theo called, “Still English, dickhead.”
He then hissed something, surprising everyone. The snake turned to him and seemed to pay
attention. It showed its fangs to him and then hissed something back, but Harry pouted,
“Sorry, I can’t understand you anymore.”
“But you said something just now.” Sirius pointed out.
Harry nodded, “Some things I have memorised, I just said ‘open’, that’s why it did that and
—”
“No, truly. Can someone get this snake?” Theo asked. “He lost his crazy shit, now get this
thing because it’s coming for me.”
“Aren’t you a Slytherin?” Ron asked, “I thought they were all your friends.”
“Oh yes,” Theo replied sarcastically, “Our common room is a snake pit. We have tons, just
slithering around. Me, particularly, I share a bed with a python.”
Hermione snorted.
“Theodore,” Remus warned.
Harry was smirking and Hermione could only guess the comment he was going to make.
Severus was faster, “Do not.” But he did take care of the snake.
“Oh, come on da-then,” Harry said, quickly saving what Hermione was pretty sure would be
a slip of ‘dad’ if the blush was any giveaway. “He did it on purpose.”
“I know he did,” Dad replied, “You don’t need to reward his behaviour. Remus, however,
should be firmer.”
Remus rolled his eyes, “Oh, yes, because you are so very strict with yours.” He said.
Severus sighed, but placed his hands on Harry’s shoulders, “How are you feeling?”
“The same as fifteen minutes ago.” Her brother replied cheekily.
He gave Harry a look, clearly not impressed. “We should return to the castle, then.”
Sirius hugged Harry and Hermione took the small distraction to run to her bedroom to take a
second for herself.
Harry was fine.
The Horcrux was gone.
The snake was the only one left.
She didn’t need to worry about that anymore. She could focus on Draco now.
And Theo… Well, it was her fault. He did tell her what would happen if she pulled something
like that again.
Hermione came out to the corridor and heard Remus’ voice coming from Theo’s bedroom
further down, “—what was that? I saw the way you pulled away.”
“Nothing.”
“Theo.”
“I'm angry at her,” Hermione’s breath caught when she realised they were talking about her.
She left before she could overhear just how angry Theo was.
Harry and Ron were in the first room, and Hermione lingered in the doorway just enough to
be assured that Harry was fine.
Crookshanks appeared between her legs and she picked him up and snuggled him. "I missed
you Crooks,” she told the animal.
“He keeps bringing dead rats to me,” Sirius told her with a scowl, “He is trying to provoke
me.” Her dad rolled his eyes. Hermione put the cat down and walked over, snuggling with
him instead. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and dropped a kiss on her head. “A
soft Severus Snape.” Sirius commented, “The world has changed indeed.”
The boys returned and after the goodbyes, they all took the Floo back.
Theo was the first to leave once they returned, sparing only a nod towards her dad and a light
pat on Harry’s shoulder.
“I want to keep an eye on you overnight.” Her dad told Harry, who had already begun making
a face in annoyance. Severus completely ignored it, “This has never been done before, I want
to be certain that you are all right. The Gryffindor Tower is too far for me to get there in time
if needed.”
“All right,” Harry said, despite dragging the word, he didn’t seem much bothered by it. And
Hermione knew how much he loved the concern. He looked at her and his face grew brighter,
if possible, “Sorry, do you mind sharing?” He asked, eyes twinkling and waiting.
She needed a moment to place his sentence and when she remembered her eyes teared up. It
was the first thing he had said to her all those years ago when they met each other on the
train.
But he wasn’t asking about a compartment this time. No. His green eyes were turned to her
dad.
“Not at all,” Hermione replied.
Their dad.
Chapter End Notes
the title and quote belong to Sweet Creature by Harry Styles

If you want to know when the next update will be posted, I often give updates on my
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takin' their time right behind my back
Chapter Notes
Hi!! Sorry for the delay!!
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The title and quote at the beginning belong to Seven Nation Army by The White Stripes
And if I catch you coming back my way

I'm gonna serve it to you
and that ain't what you want to hear
but that's what I will do
Chapter Sixty Six
Hermione knew Ron’s birthday was on the first day of March, which she suspected had to do
with him handing out invitations to a party during breakfast. But she learned the details about
the entire thing when he came up to her at the beginning of Potions.
Draco’s hand snaked around her waist from behind so fast that Hermione was impressed. Ron
hesitated at the possessive show, especially because Draco had decided to splay his hand on
her belly.
“I'm having a party to celebrate my birthday tomorrow night,” he said, still keeping an eye on
Draco’s hand, which now he had managed to sneak a finger between the buttons of her shirt,
touching her skin with the pads of his finger. “I'd like you to come and—” Hermione let out a
small sound because Draco had pulled her back, closer to his chest. If his jealousy didn’t do
wonderful things to her, she’d be tempted to stop him, “—celebrate it with me. Us— I mean,
it’s for Harry too, you know— the thing.”
She nodded, having no intention of going. “I might have some plans already but if I don’t, I
will come.”
Hermione felt Draco’s hot breath against her ear, “I have plans of making you come on
Friday,” he whispered and she felt goosebumps all over her skin. The bastard smirked against
the side of her neck.
She knew Ron must have heard it - and Pansy and Blaise also on their table certainly did -
because the boy’s face got to a deep shade of red and he almost threw the invitation on
Hermione’s lap before rushing back to his table with Harry, Theo and Macmillan.
“We can’t deny the boy is brave.” Blaise snorted as Slughorn said his greetings to Harry and
the rest. “Stupid, but brave.”
A ball of paper flew in their direction and Draco caught it easily. He opened and on Harry’s
messy scrawl a single sentence: ‘Get your hands off my sister’. She looked up to find her
brother glaring at her and Draco.
“Everywhere I turn, I find the hand police,” Draco mumbled but complied. Hermione found it
cute how he usually ignored Pansy's or the other boys’ complaints but tended to acquiesce to
Harry’s. She pecked him on the cheek for that.
“Because you keep behaving improperly in public,” Pansy commented.
Blaise snorted, “Spoken like the true Queen of Property.” He said sarcastically.
Hermione shook her head amusedly but allowed the conversation to die down as Slughorn
had finished putting the instructions on the board. Sighing, she set to work and to be second
best to her brother and his fucking book. She would so rat him out sooner than later.
After class, when they all had a break, they all got together at the library, either to study,
review or work on their homework. These moments filled her with sadness and melancholy
because they reminded her of the time Theo would be quiet and keep his distance in their first
and second year. How she’d always catch him looking but never saying anything. Hermione
now knew what he had been searching for then, but now she felt like she had been
transported back in time.
Hermione had finished her schoolwork and was taking notes from one of the books she had
gotten from the Restricted Section - with the aid of the Cloak, of course. It was a book on
poisons: untraceable and lethal. It wasn’t as difficult as it should be to brew a poison or to
find ingredients for those around the castle. And honestly, Hermione thought it was a long
time coming if the Headmaster passed away from something that grew in his backyard. Very
serious negligence in school security if you asked her.
And besides, he had kept Moody employed even though he knew he had used his house elf to
slip something in her food before she got dumped in the freezing lake. It was time he tasted
his poison… well, literally. Hermione was not forgiving.
She was so focused on writing things down that the sudden movement startled her. Hermione
looked up to find Theo grabbing his things and his blue eyes looking very angry before he
left them.
Blaise and Pansy looked at her and somehow she just knew it was her fault. “What did I do
now?” She asked, her voice smaller than she intended. Not having Theo hurt so much. It was
like a limb had been taken away from her abruptly and the phantom pains only got worse
with time.
Blaise shrugged, “He muttered ‘going to get herself bloody killed’ and jumped.”
Hermione looked down at her book and notes. He must have seen it.
“So you did it,” Albus said when Severus made his way to the Headmaster’s office on the
next day. He hadn’t slept a blink after they returned from Remus’ place. Watching Harry and
Hermione sleep on the charmed sofa. His daughter was cuddled next to Harry, her head on
his chest and an arm was thrown around his middle. They looked peaceful. At last. For a
moment.
Severus had cast hourly diagnosis spells on the boy, checking vitals, brushing the forefront of
his mind when he showed signs of dreaming, just to make sure Voldemort wasn’t present in
any of them.
“I did.” He replied and placed the vial which contained the substance he removed from the
boy on top of Dumbledore’s desk. He watched as the man picked up and analysed it.
“You’ve risked a lot doing it,” Albus said, “There are still many Horcruxes to be destroyed
and Harry was our—”
“No, Albus.” Severus replied, “I didn’t risk him.” He said. “Harry should have never been an
option. The boy is not a weapon in this war.
“You care deeply about him.”
“I do,” Severus confessed.
“I worry about you Severus,” Albus said, “I never intended for you to be this stretched thin.
Of course, when you promised me to protect the boy, I didn’t know you were already
protecting one. And now, Narcissa Malfoy has tangled you with hers as well.”
“Draco is my godson.” Severus said, “I've always been tangled with him.”
“Still. You are taking responsibility for the life of three teenagers that are all connected with
this war in one way or another. A triangle of sorts. Each edge an interesting point: one
branded, one promised and one holding the other two in vicious hands.”
“I'd gladly give my life for any of theirs.”
“I know, Severus. But how can you give your life for each of theirs?”
Severus fought the urge to glare at the headmaster. Sometimes he wished he could accelerate
things and get his death over and over with.
But the Order wasn’t strong enough. They needed more time, more recruits. With
Dumbledore gone, the fight would be over before it began.
“We have to keep protecting them.” Severus said instead, “There is no lack of people willing
to risk their lives for Harry and Hermione. Even Draco,” he added. “There’s no limit to how
far Narcissa would go for her son.”
“Indeed.” Albus agreed, “But when my death comes, you will lose your position as my spy,”
the man said, “The Order won’t trust you anymore. Do you think they will allow you to be
near Harry?”
“I don’t need them to allow me anything, Albus.” Severus retorted. “And besides, I am fully
aware of how my position will change once your time comes to an end. Harry won’t be the
only one I will lose contact with.”
He knew that once Dumbledore was dead Voldemort would expect him to be fully on his
side, most likely to take over the castle. He would resume his appearance on skirmishes and
other bothersome things with the other Death Eaters, at least during the summer. And with
Dumbledore gone, the castle wouldn’t be a safe place for his kids, Hermione and Harry
would have to leave and hide. Merlin only knew when he’d see them again.
“No.” He said and let out a small chuckle that almost had Severus throttling him. “You,
Remus and Narcissa might need to hide her again. She will be a liability to both sides.”
“Remus and Sirius will take care of her.” He replied, ignoring the way the word liability
made his inside twist and bile rise up to his throat. Severus knew how much Hermione’s
safety dangled on Voldemort’s whim. And if became public knowledge that Severus killed
the Headmaster, one of the Greatest wizards that ever been… He shivered to think that the
Order could hold her to make him come forward. He would have to trust that Remus, Sirius
and Harry would raise hell if it happened.
“I’m certain.” Albus nodded, “It’s March already. We don’t have much time. I, particularly,
have only four months left at most. And because you destroyed Harry’s Horcrux and
removed the immortality it carried, there’s very little time to find the others as it would be
preferable if Harry were still within these walls safe.”
“Albus,” Severus spoke keeping to himself that the others were all gone already. It gave him
a delicious pleasure to withhold this knowledge, “He is safer now. The last part of the
prophecy can’t be fulfilled anymore. They don’t need to die at the hand of the other because
the thing that connected them is now sitting at your desk. Harry doesn’t need to be the one to
kill him at all.”
“You can’t know this, Severus. As tempting as it is to believe it.”
“We can make it be so. Wasn’t you the one who said that prophecies are not set in stone?” He
asked, “And nevertheless Albus, there’s something that I doubt hasn’t crossed your mind. If
Voldemort realises his Horcruxes are being destroyed and make the connection between him
and the boy as we did? He would no longer seek to kill the boy, he’d be obsessed with
capturing Harry and keeping him alive. With him.”
“I have yes, thought about it. I’m not proud to admit that I considered it to be the worst turn
of events, but ultimately one that Harry doesn’t die.”
Severus felt slapped. He took a step back and stared wildly at the headmaster. “You would
have it? The boy as a prisoner?”
Albus looked away, “When I was still looking for ways to keep Harry alive before I accepted
he must die. I knew you would be able to stay around.”
He hissed, “Not anymore. I swear Albus, that boy will reach old age even if I have to drag
him through the years myself.” He vowed, “We focus on destroying what’s left and leave the
boy alone.”
The snake.
They only had the snake left.
“Let that be so.”
Severus took it as a dismissal and turned to leave.
Not surprisingly, he found Theodore Nott on his way down. Perched on a windowsill, his legs
raised and arms wrapped around them, a forlorn look on his face as he rested his head against
his knees.
“Theodore,” he called and the boy only turned his head, not removing it from his knees.
Severus found that Theodore’s lack of manners with him no longer bothered him. Not when
the boy was family to Hermione and Harry even called him sibling. For someone who had
been alone for so long, what a strange, large family Severus had found himself in. “Is
everything all right?” He asked.
“You tell me,” the boy replied, “with your daughter taking notes from Moste Potente Poisons
as though she will take a N.E.W.T of it.”
Fucking hell, Hermione..
The boy turned then, getting to his feet and standing in front of Severus. The kids were
getting so tall. “She’s disappearing with him more often than ever and it’s not for the fun
kind. She’s helping him. I know her, I—” the boy shook his head, “She used to promise him
he’d never take the mark, but now he has it and—that’s why she went after Mr Malfoy. I
don’t doubt he suffered more an hour with her than these past few months alone in that
shithole.” He said and Severus didn’t voice his agreement. “But she’s fucking helping him.
And poison?” Theodore asked, his blue eyes flashing, “Katie Bell at the beginning of the
term, that was him, wasn't it?”
Severus gave a small nod and Theodore cursed. “Voldemort has asked Draco to kill
someone.”
“Someone,” Theodore scoffed, “As if there’s any person inside this castle that Hermione
would be willing to help kill other than the one.” He said and Severus once more didn’t voice
his agreement. Clearly, it was no surprise how much his daughter despised the Headmaster.
“They won’t do it,” Severus told the boy because now he understood why Theodore was
often caught frowning at Hermione and the true reason why he had yet to speak to Hermione
after she visited Azkaban. “Albus is… aware… of this predicament and he has a plan.”
“Of course he has, bloody fucker has orchestrated even his death.”
“Language, Theodore.” Severus said, and then added, “He won’t need to do it. Albus doesn’t
want Draco to have murder on his hands.”
A chuckle, “He's not aware that she’s involved then?” Severus shook his head, “No one ever
sees her coming. Draco told me he once told her how Voldemort would learn to fear her…
The time is coming.”
“It would be in our best interests to keep him from fearing her. As Voldemort tends to get
destructive with the things he fears.” Severus said.
“If you know Draco won’t have to do it… Why haven’t you told him? Why let them…”
“I tried talking to Draco. He won’t listen. He believes he has to do it, otherwise, his mother
and father will suffer from yet another failure.”
“It's you, isn’t it?” The boy asked, “You will do it. Kill him.”
“He's already dying,” Severus confessed. Because even after all these years and how much
his feelings for the headmaster had festered, he still begrudged Albus for asking him that.
“The hand,” Theodore concluded. “It is spreading. I noticed him using his other arm to clink
his glass the other day.” Severus nodded. Theodore had always been observant. Accurately
so.
“So what? You just have to watch them read and plan the entire thing and get ahead of them
once they go for it?”
“Technically.”
“It’s eating at them! She— Merlin, he’s—a fucking ghost! And now I will have to just watch
them? Knowing that they are losing pieces of themselves just by accepting that someone will
be dead by their hands?”
“Don’t walk away from her,” Severus said. “You said it yourself. Don’t let her think she will
lose you for this too.”
Theodore looked away and worried his jaw. “She keeps leaving me behind.”
“You would have done the same in her position.”
“I wish I could have spat at Adeodatus’ face.”
“He won’t be there forever,” he said, You may still have a chance, but didn’t add.
“How do you do it?”
It wasn’t a surprise that Theodore asked him the same thing Draco did months ago. How do
you do it? How do you keep your wits about when she’s like that?.
He gave the same answer he did then. “I focus my anger on the one who deserves it the
most,” Severus replied. “I will make him pay for all of this.”
Hermione had taken Harry's map, deciding to corner Theo and get this over with. Have him
scream at her, let it all out or whatever they needed. She couldn’t be done with him. He had
disappeared after that break, missing classes and meals. He wasn’t in the Common Room, so
the map would lead her to him.
Even if that meant climbing every single step up to the Astronomy tower.
He spoke the moment she opened the door, almost as though he was waiting for her. And she
guessed he probably was, with how well he knew her. He would have suspected she’d go
after him after he vanished and he knew she had the means to find him wherever he went.
“I’m not angry at you,” he said and turned to watch her. Hermione silently closed the door
behind her and walked up to him. Standing next to him. Both of them looked at the view in
front of them. It was dark and the moon shone above them. Not a full one. Remus had a few
more days. “I’m—do you remember that time at the beginning of the fourth year, when I
pushed everyone away?” Hermione nodded. “It’s like that.” He said, “I pushed everyone
away because I didn’t want to feel it when I lost you.”
“Theo…”
“I’m terrified of losing you. And the things you’ve been doing lately… I fear that I might.”
“I’m not doing—”
“But you are.” He said with a sad sigh, “You know you are. And Merlin, Hermione. You are
my best friend, my sister, my favourite person in this entire world and I couldn’t bear to lose
you.” He confessed and Hermione felt her throat burning, the tears threatening to escape. “I
know you are helping him. I know you are considering doing it for him because I know you. I
know you take everyone’s burden and make them your own. I know how much you love him
and that it’s killing you to see it destroy him. So you will kill it for him.”
She gulped and looked away, but he chased her eyes and they met on the reflection of the
window. “They branded him. It wasn’t his choice. They gave him a mission. They have
forced him to take a life. I won’t have it.”
“So you will take a life instead?” He asked, and not for the first time, Hermione realised just
how much Theo was the one person she admitted her worst sins.
“It will be my choice.”

“You can’t walk away from it.”
The same thing Remus told her over the summer. More than once she wondered if this is
what he meant. That he knew then, that she’d do it in Draco’s place.
“No. But I can walk towards it,” she said. “Dumbledore wanted Harry to sacrifice himself
and he hoped that by doing it, he’d live. I am willing to sacrifice my soul for Draco.”
Theo nodded, “In the hopes you won’t lose it.”
She thought back to Dumbledore’s blackened hand, looking worse and worse with every new
day. “He’s already dying Theo,” Hermione said. Maybe it was an excuse, an attempt to prove
to him and perhaps herself, that she wasn’t truly evil.
“I know,” Theo said and Hermione looked back, finding his eyes again.
“You know.” She repeated.
He nodded, “I spoke to your dad earlier… He told me.”
“Does he—” Hermione swallowed, unable to finish it. Did her dad know his dear daughter
was planning on killing the Headmaster?
“He will do it instead,” Theo told her and Hermione frowned. “That’s his Unbreakable Vow
with Narcissa. He and Dumbledore have agreed that Draco will not need to kill anyone, he
asked your dad to do it.”
It only made Hermione’s blood boil more. Another one. Another request. Not a choice. How
much more would Dumbledore ask from her dad before he was gone?
Hermione swallowed, “Theo,” she said, her voice very low, “I—”
He finished for her, “You want to do it.”
She didn’t nod, they just stared at one another. Hermione watched as Theo processed the
information.
“I’m sorry.”
Theo shook his head, “No need.” He took a step closer to her, cupping her face in his hands.
“Since I’ve just knocked at least three secrets from you, I believe I have to give you one,
then.” He rested his forehead against hers, “You are the most important person in the world to
me. If you want to do it, then I will be here, I will be your soul if you need it.”
She wrapped her arms around his torso, desperately. “I love you, Theo.”
“I love you too.” He repeated. “The thing you and Draco say to one another all the time…
Not the two of us.”
“Not the two of us.” She agreed.

They walked together back to their common room a while later, both feeling much better than
they had in weeks.
“Oh thank Merlin!” Pansy said as she spotted them arriving, Hermione rolled her eyes and
dropped down on the sofa next to the raven-haired girl, “When the two of you break up is
actually worse than when you break up with your respective boyfriends.”
Daphne laughed and voiced her agreement, “True. Because while Blaise turns his problems
into everyone’s problem and Draco resorts to acting like a jerk making it very easy to side
with Hermione, the two of you get so creepily silent it’s unnerving.
Blaise was affronted, “Theo and I never broke up!”

“Please! The entire thing at the start of our fourth year! The two of you were unbearable!”
“We weren’t dating then,” Theo pointed out.
“Which was the entire problem if you ask me,” Pansy said with a shrug. “That's why I like
being single.”
“So you can choose which Gryffindor to have for the week?” Blaise asked.
“I will have you know that March has been entirely Neville’s month.”
“Pansy, we are three days into the month.” Daphne reminded her.
Pansy shrugged again.
To no one’s surprise, Hermione didn’t go to Ron’s party instead, she and Draco spent almost
the entire night working on the Vanishing Cabinet. It was a temperamental, tricky piece of
furniture. They had managed to stabilise the connection between the two cabinets, but the
trips between them were shaky at best: at times they got things to travel back and forth, but
anything had yet to return in one piece. There were times nothing returned at all.
She almost broke down crying in frustration and she knew Draco must have been feeling
much the same, after all, it was his life on the line.
“I don’t know what else to do!” She said, “I've read every possible book there is about the
subject and—”
“Let's stop for tonight,” Draco said defeatedly, “We can continue during the Quidditch
game.”
“No!” She said, “Draco, the term is almost over, he’s sending you reminders—”
“I know!” He shouted, “I know we have very little time left and—”
"We can’t waste any more time!”

“—We should just accept the possibility that I might—”
“Continue that sentence, Draco Malfoy. I dare you.”
He looked at her, there was no more spark in his eyes. The grey was cold and unrelenting.
“Tell me you haven’t thought about it.”
“I haven’t.” She said vehemently. “Not for a single second.”
“So you better start.”
Hermione pushed him, placing both hands on his chest and pushing him away forcefully, he
almost tripped on the mess that was everywhere around them.
“Fuck you,” She said, “You are not giving up.”
“Look around!” He said, “This fucking thing is a broken piece of shit that will most certainly
get me killed if I travel on it! And why are we even bothering anyway? It’s not like
Dumbledore is making himself available around the castle!”
“I'm working on it—”
“I don’t want you to work on it! Fuck Hermione, I never wanted you involved in any of this!
I hate myself for making you my accomplice, making you fucking guilty of my sins.”
“You didn’t make me anything Draco.”
“Yeah, right,” he scoffed, “Fucking cried on your skirt.”
“There's nothing wrong in asking for help!”
“Help? I fucking asked for murder, Hermione! Is this what we are?” he asked her, “I don’t
want it. I’m going down for this and I won’t take you with me. I refuse.”
“Draco—”
“You need to listen,” he said, coming closer and placing his hands over her shoulders, “Once
Dumbledore’s dead, there’s nothing left for me.” She opened her mouth to disagree, but he
kept on, “There are two possible ends for this war. If Voldemort wins, I have a lifetime of
servitude on his side and you and I are done. I don’t care, Hermione, how much is going to
hurt, but if Voldemort wins I swear, I will make sure you never see me again just so I can
keep you safe. And fuck,” he let out a small unamused laugh, “if the other side wins, the
mark on my arm will only ever give me a cell next to my father.”
“So what is this?” She asked, her eyes red, both in anger and heartache. “We are doomed,
that’s what you are saying?”
“Pretty much.” He said and cradled her cheeks in his palms. “But I will raise hell for you all
the way to doomsday.”
She kissed him, almost desperately, pressing his back against the damned cabinet. He got
their kiss to slow down like they have decades, pulling back to look at her. Hermione took the
moment to commit him to memory, every line, curve and speckle on his skin. Draco leaned
down to kiss the spot where her shoulder met her neck and inhaled. His hands were almost as
delicate as his lips, feathery against her skin like she was a masterpiece and he was touching
her with the utmost care. The moment their lips touched again, there was no doubt in her
about how much all of this was worth, how much he was worth it. Everything. Her
goddamned entire world.
Draco’s hand trails up from her sides, over her arm until he can grip her neck, and it felt so
good; so grounding. Neither seemed to care when their clothes find their way to the floor and
an eternity passed until they both crash down heaving.
“Professor Snape is possessed looking after the two of you.” Theo and Pansy told them when
they met near the dungeons.
“What? Why?” She asked and quickly exchanged a confused look with Draco.
“I don’t know.” Pansy said, “But something happened. Something serious. Your brother was
calling you through that mirror of yours. He sounded both angry and terrified.”
“He wants to sew both of us?” Draco asked.
“Yes,” Theo answered, “He looked quite angry as well.”
“Shit,” she said. “Let's go then.”
Neither Pansy nor Theo had exaggerated. Her dad did look possessed when he saw them
entering his office.
“Who was it?” He asked them.
Hermione frowned, “What?”
“Don’t even try to lie to me, Hermione.”
It was the middle of the night. Hermione had no idea what he was talking about. “I'm not.”
She said, “I honestly don’t know what you are talking about.” He told him.
“Ronald Weasley is currently at the Hospital Wing.” He told them, Hermione’s eyes widened
in surprise. “His parents were called. He almost died, poisoned.”
“You think I did it?” She asked, insulted.
“You are the one reading about poisons.” He said and Hermione narrowed her eyes. Fucking
Theo. “And no one knew where the two of you were since early afternoon.”
She felt her cheeks reddening. If her dad didn’t look so angry, she’d risk being really
straightforward in her answer, but as it were, she stuck with the “We were at the Room of
Requirement,” she said and let him fill the gaps as he wished. “Why would I poison Ron?”
She asked. “I might not like him, but that’s not a reason for me to poison him.”
Her dad turned to Draco then, raised a single eyebrow. “He flirts with Hermione in front of
me, I punched him once, I could easily punch him twice,” Draco replied coldly. “To poison
him for it would imply I'm insecure.”
Her dad didn’t find it funny. “So neither of you has any idea on what happened?” They both
shook their heads. “And are the two of you equally unaware of how a poisoned mead might
have gotten into Slughorn’s hands?”
Hermione quickly assented, but she could feel Draco slightly tense next to her. “He was
poisoned as well?” She asked.
“No,” her dad answered, “but he offered both Harry and Mr Weasley a drink and Mr Weasley
collapsed upon drinking. He seemed to have chugged the thing at once before either Harry or
Slughorn could sip on theirs and fell instantly.”
“So Harry’s fine?” She asked. He nodded. But he was still looking at Draco.
“Might you have any ideas, Draco?”
“No.”
“We now have two instances—”
“I already said I don’t know anything.” He said, cutting her father off. “It seems that
Weasley’s poisoning has been completely unintentional and a consequence of bad luck. The
poison was in the bottle, wasn’t it? Would you still be accusing us if Harry had drunk first?”
“You may rest at ease knowing that my approach would be completely different would Harry
have drunk first. He was the one who saved his friend.”
“Our saviour indeed,” Draco replied mockingly and without waiting for another word, turned
to leave.
She stayed and looked at her dad. He seemed exhausted and once they were the only ones
there, he looked it as well.
“I didn’t have anything to do with this, Dad.”
He only sighed, “But he has.”
“He doesn’t tell me everything,” Hermione confessed. “I didn’t know. Katie Bell too. He
hasn’t confessed to that.”
“Tell me what you do know.”

And so she told him all about the Vanishing Cabinet.
She went to visit Ron Weasley the next day. Harry and Ginny were there, swapping theories
about what had happened.
“Someone couldn’t have a grudge against the Gryffindor Quidditch team, could they?’ Ginny
asked and Hermione almost rolled her eyes. “First Katie, now Ron…”
“School Quidditch is not that important, you know.” She reminded the girl.
“The poison could have been in the bottle, in which case it was probably meant for Slughorn
himself,” Harry argued.
“Who’d want to kill Slughorn?” Ginny asked, “I know he’s annoying, but not that annoying.”
“Dumbledore reckons Voldemort wanted Slughorn on his side,” Harry replied, “Slughorn was
in hiding for a year before he came to Hogwarts. And maybe Voldemort wants him out of the
way, maybe he thinks he could be valuable to Dumbledore.”
“But you said Slughorn had been planning to give that bottle to Dumbledore for Christmas,”
Ginny reminded him. “So the poisoner could just as easily have been after Dumbledore.”
She was right of course, but Hermione only said “Then the poisoner didn’t know Slughorn
very well,” instead. This was true after all: Slughorn always steered away from Draco, afraid
that Lucius’ situation would fall upon him if he stood too close. “Anyone who knew
Slughorn would have known there was a good chance he’d keep something that tasty for
himself.”
Ginny nodded and Harry seemed to agree as well. Hermione thought it was strangely nice,
how Harry wasn’t pointing his finger at Draco this time. Maybe it was because you couldn’t
buy mead from Borgin&Burkes. Or maybe because Hermione told him Draco was trying to
fix something in the Room of Requirement.
Hermione kept visiting him during the week, not because she cared deeply about his
situation, but because she felt guilty. It was Draco’s fault Ron had been poisoned. Another
attempt to get something lethal to Dumbledore. Such a Malfoy trick that Hermione was glad
she was the only one who knew the family as well to recognise it.
It could have been Harry. Her brother later explained to her how he saved Ron - the bezoar
from reading that potions book - and she knew neither Ron nor Slughorn would have been
able to save him had it been her brother instead. She watched Ron as a way to wrap her head
around the fact.
She and Draco had had a terrible row after the entire thing. Hermione cried and yelled at him.
They didn’t talk for a few days afterwards. She was helping him and in exchange, Hermione
expected he would confide in her, not act behind her back to spare her, as he had said. The
idea of her brother dying by something that had her boyfriend’s hands on it and her shadow
was enough to send her on a spiral that got her vomiting on an empty corridor.
Dumbledore had to die and soon.
Draco was getting desperate and impatient, forgetting his father’s words: Impatience causes
wise people to do foolish things.
Classes with her father were always quiet, so it wasn’t hard to overhear Lavender Brown’s
hissed question. “Is Hermione Granger still visiting him?” The girl demanded suddenly.
Hermione looked up at the sound of her name.
“Yeah, I think so,” Harry replied. “Well, they’re friends, aren’t they?” Harry asked
uncomfortably.
Brown scoffed. “Friends, don’t make me laugh,” she said, “Granger hates him on a good day.
They are not friends. But I suppose she wants to make up with him now he’s all
interesting…”
Interesting? She thought.
“Interesting?” Harry asked, his tone very similar to the one she used in her mind. “How does
almost dying by poison equals being interesting?”
“Silence!” Her dad called with a glare in Harry and Brown’s direction. And because she was
the topic of the conversation, she got a glare as well. Very fair, that father of hers.
Draco, who had also heard the entire exchange, didn’t seem very happy to learn Hermione
was visiting Ron. She wouldn’t stop because of him, but she decided to find another method
to process her guilt lest Draco chose to punch the boy and send him back to the Hospital
Wing and cause her to get glared at.
But Ron didn’t even have time to leave the Hospital Wing before Harry joined him there after
getting a bludger to the head in the last match.
It was a blessing when March ended. Hermione wasn’t a religious person, but she prayed for
April to be at least a bit better.
Chapter End Notes
This chapter was really really hard to write. I don't know why, but I couldn't get things
down and I changed everything so many times and I'm still not happy with most of it.
but I honestly couldn't get anything better out of it.
Comments are appreciated and as always, you can find me on twitter moonyhoax!
love in withdrawal was the weeping of me
Chapter Notes
Hi!! sorry for the immense delay!! I'm having he worst time ever writing the end of this
fic. I know how it's going to end but the process 'my mind - word doc' is proving to be
quite the task.
and well, I've also been quite enjoying my summer as an excuse for my procrastination.
TW for this chapter: CHEATING! BLOOD!
this is a whole roller coaster I'm sorry.
with the war of the fire

my heart moves to its feet
like the ashes of ash
I saw eyes in the heat
Chapter Sixty-Seven
April started better than March, which wasn’t a very difficult feat compared to the events of
the previous month. Harry visited him in his office after classes the first few days after
Weasley's poisoning.
“Shouldn’t you be trying to get Slughorn’s memory from him?” Severus had asked the first
time.
“Ugh,” Harry had groaned, “She’s so your daughter.” He replied instead.
Severus knew Hermione was trying to get Harry to focus on the memory so he wouldn’t
spare much thought on who really had poisoned his best friend.
So he decided to change the subject, “How are your Apparition lessons going? The exam is
in a fortnight.”
Another groan from the boy, “What does it matter? I’m not seventeen for at least four
months.”
It was very tiring, trying to have a conversation with a teenage boy. “Irrelevant,” Severus
said, “it is a vital skill to have.” There was no quicker way to flee a location.
“I've managed two or three times.”

“Good.” He said with a small nod, “We can work on it over the summer.” Severus knew it
was an empty promise of his own. Dumbledore would be gone by then and Severus wouldn’t
be able to come and go as he pleased.
“Cool,” Harry replied, unaware. And added in a smarty murmur, “Hermione is having a swift
time with all the Ds.” Severus flew a book into the boy’s head, who narrowly avoided it.
“Hey!”
“I heard you.” He said with a pointed look, “Don’t talk about your sister like that.”
“How come you haven’t had the talk with her?” He asked, putting air quotes in ‘talk’.
“One, she’s clearly smarter than you and two, I had the talk with that boyfriend of hers.”
Harry snorted, “I bet that went swimmingly.” He said, “He keeps fondling her in front of
me.” Harry said in annoyance and Severus realised that he had something in common with
the boy: the distaste for Draco Malfoy’s two hands always straying from his body.
“You are already the annoying younger brother, act like it.”
“Getting me to do the dirty job, huh?” Harry asked in amusement. Severus rolled his eyes.
“Did you have a point coming here or…?”
Harry only smirked.
And he kept stopping by.
Severus got a short break from the visits once Harry joined his dear friend in the Hospital
Wing after getting a bludger to the head, but they resumed once he was released.
Sometimes Hermione would join - on the days Severus overheard the whispers of another
row between his daughter and Draco, or when the growing desperation coming from his bond
with Draco in waves reached storm levels - and he’d open the door to his private quarters so
they could have more privacy and comfort than the two armchairs in his office could offer.
When the pair was together, Severus was barely needed, he was just there - it was his quarters
after all - grading homework, finishing some potions and working on lesson plans. Yet
another downside of taking the Defence post: he didn’t have a decade-worth of lessons
planned and felt much like he did on his first year of teaching, spending his spare time
coming up with lessons for seven different years.
Hermione and Harry had left their shoes by the door and their sock-clad feet were tucked
beneath themselves as they chatted about the most inane topics possible. Thirty-six years old
and the sight of two pair of shoes messily discarded was suddenly the only thing he needed.
The feeling in his chest was similar to having a bright fire crackling merrily in the hearth,
warm and safe. They were here, with him, safe.
“—so now Ron has somewhat gotten in his head that you might be interested,” Harry was
telling his sister, “I told him you were just being nice.”
Hermione groaned, “You can’t say nice Harry, boys like Ron hear ‘nice’ and process it like
‘in love’. You should have said I was just waiting to catch Madam Pomfrey unaware and you
know—” she made a sound with her mouth and Severus looked up just in time to see her
mimicking slicing a throat. “Keep him on his toes.”
“He would believe it if I said it about Pansy,” Harry replied, unbothered. It was obvious, how
used he was to the dark humour of the dungeons. Severus didn’t know if it was a good or a
bad thing. “I don’t know, make out with Draco in front of him or whatever.”
Severus heard Hermione rolling her eyes, “I'd have to apologise for that to happen.” She said,
“And we both know it’s not happening. But anyways, it’s such a red flag, isn’t it? He’s dating
Lavender why is he interested in the delusional ideal of me being interested?”
“He's been trying to break up with her for a few weeks now. I think he’s scared. He hides
whenever he sees a pack of girls.”
“Typical.” Hermione said, “But I truly don’t understand, he doesn’t even like me. The entire
idea of him having a crush on me is ridiculous.”
He felt Harry’s eyes on him for a brief moment, almost like he was trying to be sure Severus
wasn’t listening. It only served to Severus not openly pay attention and continue with the
pretence of working. “Okay… I’m just passing the information, nothing I say came from
me.”
“Ominous and potentially problematic, but okay. Go on.”
“Seamus had a thing with Parvati and they… You know…” He started in a lower tone, “And
well, Dean with Ginny. And you know about Neville and I—I mean, not Neville and I
together—” A pause, “On a second thought…”
Salazar Slytherin. That was why Minerva every year insisted to bring back the Sex Education
class with the sixth-year students.
“I know Harry, no need for details. I got them from the mutual source between the two of
you.”
“He’s the only virgin in our dormitory,” Harry said. “And Lavender… despite all the
snogging they did around the castle, it turned out it was all they did.”
“You mean to tell me that he thinks… No… That he entertained the thought—” oh, but
Ronald Weasley was about to see a sudden drop in his grades. Severus even shuffled between
his papers to find the one he had already graded. “Wait! You said he didn’t know about you
and Pansy!”
“He knows now.” Harry confessed, “The boys were talking about you know, this stuff and
sharing… I wasn’t about to make things awkward by talking about the other door—oof”
Hermione had hit her brother with a cushion. Blessing all of them. “Harry!”
“What? You are best friends with Theo and Blaise! You mean to say they never talked about
it?”
“No! Not with me at least,”
Harry snorted, “God, I’d love to see your boyfriend listening to that. They are wild!”
“HARRY!”
“Ok,” Severus said, catching their attention, because Hermione’s shrill tone was loud enough
to wake the entire castle. “That's enough. More than enough.” The pair blushed at him,
suddenly realising that Severus was still there in the room and had heard their entire
conversation.
Hermione recovered first and got to her feet, planting both hands on her hips. “Dad,” she said
in a warning tone. “I'm forewarning this now. If Ron Weasley makes an advance on me with
the intention of losing his virginity I’m sending him back to the hospital wing.”
Harry chuckled and Severus took a deep breath. “Noted.” He said.
“All right.” She said and went after her shoes. “We should head back, it’s past curfew.”
Hermione walked back and around his desk, “Goodnight, Dad.” She kissed his cheek and he
smiled fondly at her.
“Goodnight, love.”
“You warn him, Harry,” Hermione said with a pointed finger.
The boy just nodded and began moving as well. He was still chucking his foot inside his right
shoe when Harry spoke again, “Goodnight…” Severus waited and didn’t mind when the boy
only sighed after a moment of consideration.
Severus did it for him, “Goodnight, son.”
He wouldn’t admit that he liked the visits because it would imply he liked knowing about
every piece of gossip happening in Gryffindor and Slytherin, but when Harry stopped by on
his own, it did give them an opportunity to strengthen their relationship and be updated on
Dumbledore’s lessons. Harry had told him that he now had seen the memory of Voldemort
getting the locket, the cup and his last attempt at getting the Defence job and cursing the
position instead.
“I didn’t say anything of course, but I think he came back to hide the Diadem,” Harry
commented during that particular visit, “Dumbledore said something about how Voldemort
believed he was the one who knew the castle and all its secrets the best. It makes sense that
he knew about the Room of Hidden Things.”
“It is possible indeed that he used the visit as an excuse to enter the castle and hide the
Horcrux.” Severus agreed, “Has Dumbledore mentioned the diadem at all?”
Harry shook his head. “No. But he hasn’t told me the locket and the cup were turned into
Horcruxes yet, I don’t know why he acts like our meetings are story-time.”
“That's Dumbledore for you,” Severus said, “I think he might be waiting for whatever he
believes he will find in Slughorn's memories to tell you that. Which—”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. It’s important to focus on that.” Harry said with a drag and threw his
legs over the arm of the sofa.
Severus studied him, the boy was picking at something possibly inexistent in his glasses and
biting on the inside of his cheeks. There was something there. “Harry,” he said, putting his
parchments aside, “What is it?”
Harry looked up. “Nothing, it’s silly.” Severus raised an eyebrow at him. The boy sighed, “I
just… I thought I'd get to enjoy more now that this is gone,” he pointed at his scar, which was
getting fainter by the day, no longer red and looking barely a day old. Finally, it looked like a
fifteen-year-old scar. “That I could just be Harry, but I’m still the Chosen One for them and I
still need to get that memory from Slughorn and it’s not like I can stop worrying about the
war, but now I also feel like I can worry about stupid things like everyone else, that I get to
be dumb and in love—”
“Are you in love?” He asked and Harry replied with a glare.
“It's just an example,” Harry said and then shrugged, “But I’d like to be I think. To have what
Theo and Blaise have or… like my sister and Draco. Only Merlin knows what’s truly going
on in their relationship right now but they love each other so much that they are reckless,
explosive and plain stupid about one another.” The boy said, his voice leaking with
frustration. “I don’t know, I want to be stupid about someone like that.”
“Stupid seems a constant factor here,” Severus said, “and from the things I’ve heard, it’s not
like you don’t have someone or more than one.”
“Don't be a shithead.” Harry rolled his eyes, “it happened once.”
“Harry,” Severus said, going for the serious route when it became clear that this was
something truly troubling him. “You can worry about stupid things. Just because there are
more serious things happening it doesn’t mean you are not allowed to have these worries.
And they are not stupid. They are not life and death, but they are not stupid.”
“But I should be focusing on the memory—”
“Yes. But you can focus on finding the one person that makes your heart skip a beat when
you look at them.” He said, because Merlin did he prefer having Harry being caught behind
alcoves and dark corridors with someone than worrying about what on earth his daughter was
doing with a frightened young Death Eater that got them screaming at each other every other
day. “Or don’t. You don’t need to be in love at sixteen. Or to find the one at Hogwarts. You
can keep having fun and just enjoying your life, discovering your life.”
“But everyone—”
“You are very fortunate to have many examples of good relationships around you. Your
godfather, your parents, your sister, your friends. But they also were and are just two people.
Sirius kissed a lot of people before kissing Remus; Remus had a thing before Sirius and he
had someone after Sirius. Your father loved your mother first, and he loved Regulus second
but that didn’t mean he loved any of them less or differently, just in different times. Draco
and Hermione are each other’s first love and first partners and they are going to make it,
despite the hard time they are having, because they are right for each other and that’s what’s
important. To have the right person for you. Love as many people as you want, love them
hard or not but don’t worry about rushing anything, that’s not what love is about.”
Harry nodded and pressed the heel of his hands against his eyes. “You should give advice
more often,” the boy said and quickly added a joke, “but toning down the favouritism
towards Hermione. It’s like she truly can do no wrong in your eyes.”
“Oh, she’s doing plenty wrong. I’m certain of it.” He said.
Only to be proved right days later.
He felt it before he saw it.
On his way out of the Great Hall to his sixth-year class, he felt the godfather bond. Pain and
despair. It wasn’t Draco calling, but his godson was so desperate that his feelings slipped
through the bond. And then he saw why.
He didn’t recognise the girl against the wall, but the blond hair was unmistakable. As what
the pair was doing. Severus blinked and just like the group of people around, seemed unable
to react to the sight. His daughter was there, which Severus guessed was the point. But the
look on her face… He knew the pair hadn't discussed whatever this was between them.
Hermione stood there, her face contorting in a valiant attempt to maintain control of her
emotions. To the school at large, they were supposed to have broken up, they were supposed
to have no contact with one another - by the very significant presence of Gregory Goyle and
Vincent Crabbe, as well as the two seventh-year girls from Slytherin that he knew were in
talks to join the ranks, only further proved that the little scene had a purpose - so any
explosive reaction would raise some eyebrows. And Merlin, what a loyal group of friends she
had. Theodore Nott buzzed in controlled fury at the sight. Pansy Parkinson was holding her
wand so tightly in her right hand that sparks erupted from it. Even Harry, who was the
reckless Gryffindor, was keeping cover for his sister.
But Hermione, Merlin, her sharp inhale had the entire corridor struggling for breath like all
the air was now uniquely serving to prevent her tears from flowing. Her lovely brown eyes
were glistening with unshed tears and the storm within them was brewing, no doubt a
summer thunderstorm. His girl was fighting, the muscles in her jaw were tightened, and the
mechanical breathing pattern from her nose and the way her lips were quivering was enough
evidence.
Hermione stared until Draco pulled away, the girl he had been kissing smirked in satisfaction
when she found Hermione there. When the girl patted his cheek goodbye, Severus had no
doubt he’d find her in the hospital wing until the end of the day.
The godparent bond was a heavy stone in his chest, burning and twisting and it got worse
when Draco made eye contact with Hermione. He had to fight the urge to adjust the buttons
on his vest as if the hand pressing down was real.
He looked around, the seventh-year girls were all gone with their friend, but the ones waiting
for his class were all gathering there. Gregory Goyle was smirking so viciously at Hermione,
like he had personally won something with his daughter’s heartbreak. Vincent Crabbe looked
uncomfortable, his past friendship with Hermione probably weighing on his feelings.
Severus moved, ignoring the entire scene and opening his classroom door. The students
filtered in behind him. Hermione sat on her usual seat in front of the classroom. Severus
wished Draco would fucking occlude to spare him from the desolation drowning him.
Draco tried to sit the closest to the door, no doubt after a quick exit after his stunt, but Harry
was faster, plopping down heavily with a blank stare. Threatening.
Theodore, Blaise and Pansy all did the same, forcing Draco to sit with his back to them. He
had already done the worst, so he could only sit down with his posture overly straight, the
Malfoy trademark expression of grandness in place and shoulder it.
Because Severus knew it could get ugly pretty quickly and he didn’t want to deal with it in
his classroom - where he knew he would be biased - so he announced, “Today we are going
to have a theoretical class. To test whether you actually know more than to flick your wands.”
He wrote some questions on the board, extensive and detailed in the hopes it would keep
their wands hidden. Hermione who had her gaze fixed on the board, trying to anchor herself,
shook her head minimally when Daphne Greengrass held Hermione’s hand under the table.
The small movement was enough to shake her, momentarily losing against the overwhelming
surge of emotion. Despite her efforts, a single tear managed to escape, tracing a shimmering
path down her cheek.
Hermione was quick to wipe it away. She swallowed and raised her hand. More than one
student held their breath.
“Yes, Miss Granger?”
If she asked to leave he would let her.
If she asked to leave, he’d make Draco Malfoy pay.
“Professor,” She said, her throat tightened, her voice wavering with only those three
syllables. Another deep breath, “How long do you need our answers to be?” She asked
instead, surprising him with the sudden control she found with that one breath.
“Within the limits of the N.E.W.TS format.” He answered.
And then she began to write.
Her friends took their cues from her, like loyal soldiers. They wrote in silence and not once
after they started they turned to glare at Draco, leaving the boy to wallow even more. Oh,
Draco knew it would come. He didn’t know how he’d pay for that little nasty show, but he
knew he would.
It was one of the longest classes he ever taught and the day too, turned out to be a long one.
He remained on edge the entire day, waiting for someone to call him, for the rumours to
spread, for the whispers ‘someone sent Draco Malfoy to the Hospital wing’ to reach his ears,
but nothing of the sort happened. All of his Slytherins attended all of their classes and
showed up to lunch and dinner. Draco laughed with Goyle and some seventh-year girls, the
Carrow twins were with them as well. That was Narcissa’s boy through and through because
only her offspring could put on that good of a show while hurting so much.
Severus watched with a heavy heart, his daughter leave the Great Hall halfway through
dinner and when he left for his own quarters half an hour later, he was surprised to find her
curled on his sofa.
He sat down on the other end, and placed a careful hand on her calf, “Hermione?” He called.
She just shifted around, resting her head now on his thigh. “I don’t want to talk about it,”
Hermione mumbled. Her body language speaking volumes. Her shoulders trembled ever so
slightly now under his palm, revealing the emotional strain she was under. Both her hands
were clenched into fists in front of her and her chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, a
testament to her internal turmoil. He wondered if either Narcissa or Remus had gotten any of
her feelings today, as he seemed unable to escape Draco’s.
“Okay,” he said, “Can I just stay here with you, then?” He asked.
She nodded fiercely, “Please.”
“All right, love.” He said, running careful fingers through her hair, “I’ve got you.”
He didn't know how long it took for her to let the tears fall, but he felt the dampness near his
knees before he even heard her cry. “He was supposed to tell me first.” She said, her voice
choked up, “And we hadn’t agreed with that yet. I— why does it hurt more now even though
I knew it would happen than when I saw him kissing Pansy during the third year?”
“Because you just saw your boyfriend of two years kissing a random girl, not the boy you
have a crush on being kissed by your best friend at a Halloween party.”
She made a small noise, “I’m angry.”
Severus tangled a curl of her hair around his finger and sighed, “You've been angry for a long
time now, love.”
Hermione didn’t reply and they stayed there, she eventually fell asleep, tired from the battle
to hold back the flood of tears. Severus didn’t move and accioed a book so he could read and
still be with her.
As an answer to an earlier question, the Floo flared and Remus stepped out. Severus cast a
silencing charm on her, so she wouldn’t be woken up by their voices. “I imagined you would
show up.”
Remus kneeled in front of her, not bothering to look at Severus or say hi. “I thought my heart
was being pulled out.”
“At least you didn’t have to contend with guilt as well.”
“Draco?”
Severus nodded. “He kissed someone in front of her.” He told the other man, suddenly they
were back three years ago, both teachers, gossiping about the children after a long day of
keeping them at arm's length. “A part of a plan of theirs,” he explained, catching the
dangerous yellow in Remus’ eyes. “They’ve been fighting for days now. I don’t know how
much of it has been a show and how much has been real. They exploded something at
Slughorn’s class and there’s no one there who’d need to see them fighting. But anyway, she
was caught surprised by the scene.”
“You know what this reminds me of, right?” Remus asked. Severus nodded, “But James
didn’t know it was all part of Regulus’ bigger plans.”
“Because Regulus didn’t tell him that Voldemort had threatened both Sirius and Jame—Shit.”
Severus stopped. His body locking up. Draco’s growing desperation through the week to
culminate in this morning now made more sense. “They’ve been erratic for days.” Severus
said, his hand almost clenching down around her shoulder, “What if Voldemort got word of
it?”
“You would be the one to know.”
“Fuck,” Severus swore, “I'd just get the order.”
Maybe Draco expected to have to answer to Theo or Blaise in a nasty dormitory altercation,
maybe Pansy Parkinson would pretend to sneeze and cast something in his direction,
whatever it was, Severus was certain Draco didn’t expect that Hermione would be the one to
do it.
And Severus certainly didn’t expect it to happen during his class.
When the next lesson came, he told them to divide into pairs to practice and Severus didn’t
bat an eye when Hermione chose to pair with Anthony Goldstein from Ravenclaw.
The yellow flag was how Anthony Goldstein side-hugged her and dropped a kiss on her head
in greeting and Severus wondered when he missed that warm friendship. Well, apparently he
and the rest of Hermione’s friends.
A lifetime of being a spy certainly made it easier for him to study body language, so he
scanned the room in search of something. The only ones trying very hard to pretend they
didn’t know anything were Padma Patil and Hannah Abbot.
Halfway through the class, when spells were flying with a nasty accuracy towards Draco
from four of the fifteen pairs, he decided to move them around. Placing Theodore and Blaise,
Parkinson and Longbottom, Harry and Weasley, Greengrass and Padma Patil all in one corner
with Draco and Terry Boot on the other side of the classroom. And because Severus would
hate to spoil whatever Hermione was planning with all of her flirting, she left her in sight of
everyone. Harry could call him out for playing favourites again.
When Hermione did the bare minimum and Goldstein called “Mi, that was amazing!”,
getting Draco to turn a desk into cinders, Severus leaned back to watch.
Padma Patil briefly looked in his direction and Severus quickly caught a memory at the
forefront of her mind. A very small Arithmancy class she shared with only Hermione,
Hannah Abbott and Anthony Goldstein where Hermione asked Anthony for a little help with
something.
At the end of the class, Severus dismissed them. The ones who had no idea what was
happening all left without hesitation. But Hermione was too busy now giggling at whatever
Goldstein whispered in her ear. The burning curiosity rose in fumes around the classroom as
the eyes of the remaining students were glued to the pair. Abbott and Patil were biting down
their lower lips to keep their smirks hidden so Severus knew more would come.
The red flag was how Anthony Goldstein placed a hand on Hermione’s waist and leaned
down.
She was going to get Draco to pay in the same coin.
Once more, he felt it before he saw it.
Severus allowed the kiss to last just the amount of time necessary for Draco’s jealousy to
fester. Discussed or not, agreed or not, Draco Malfoy had made his daughter cry.
He cast a weak version of the burning spell, just enough to get them jumping and apart from
one another. “Ten points from Ravenclaw for that sort of behaviour. This is a classroom.” He
told them and someone snorted loudly. No doubt Harry Potter. “Now get out of here all of
you.”
Hermione grabbed Anthony Goldstein’s hand in hers and left the classroom with her head
held high, brushing past Draco with a smirk that Severus knew she had learned from the boy.
Merlin, how he wished that was the last of the week’s events. But no, those were just the
beginning.
He was teaching fifth-year Gryffindors the next morning when someone knocked on the door.
He sighed. “Come in,”
The Head Girl popped her head inside, “I’m sorry to interrupt Professor,” she began, and he
waved her on. “Madam Pomfrey sent me to get you. A student of yours is in the Hospital
Wing.”
“Which student?” He asked.
The girl hesitated and his attention shifted. “Erm. Your da—I mean. Miss Granger.”
Severus took a deep, slow breath at the name, trying to steady himself and rein in his
emotions. Being in the Hospital Wing didn’t necessarily mean something life-threatening, but
regardless, his heart raced.
Murmuring started from his students. He saw the Weasley girl whispering something to the
girl next to her. “Quiet!” He barked at them. Even the Head Girl jumped at the tone. “Is it
serious?” He asked.
Another moment of hesitation. “Madam Pomfrey didn’t inform me. She just asked me to call
you.” She explained, but there was more. Her entire face told him that.
“Out with it.”
“Blood,” She said, the word escaping her mouth with his shout. “There was a lot of blood
when Malfoy let go of her.”
He occluded the moment he felt his face tightening with concern. “Class is over.” He said, as
his hands opened and closed instinctively at his sides, a futile attempt to suppress the worry
now cursing through his veins. “You are all dismissed.” He announced and didn’t wait for
them to collect their things. “Make sure they stay inside the castle,” Severus told the Head
Girl.
Severus reached the Hospital Wing in record time and Madam Pomfrey rolled her eyes and
huffed at the sight of him, “I told her to not say anything about the blood.”
But she was the one covered in blood that was most certainly his daughter’s. Draco was next
to her, his face a mess of tears and his shirt a mess of blood. “What happened?” He barked,
hurrying towards Hermione.
He scanned over her, brows furrowed, and he could only guess what his expression was
showing when his eyes locked onto her. “I'm all right, Dad. Just an accident.” He briefly
closed his eyes, attempting to momentarily shield himself from the sight of Hermione and to
collect his thoughts.
Draco was next to Hermione, a hand on her hair and the other on her arm. “An accident!” He
hissed and moved back, the pair glared at one another. “An accident, my ass!”
She looked at him with tears in her eyes, if the pair fought over the kissing thing from the
previous days, now it was long gone. “Draco, it was not your fault.”
He barked out a manic laugh, “Yeah, right.” Draco turned to leave and Hermione made to
grab him.
“Draco!” She said when he removed her hand.

Severus took Hermione being strong enough to argue with her boyfriend as a good sign, even
though the blood stains were everywhere. “What happened?” He repeated, his lips pressed
into a thin line.
“She got splinched,” Madam Pomfrey explained. “Lost there upper part of her arm, where it
connects to the shoulder. I quickly mended it back, she’s fine now, I already gave her a blood-
replenishing vial.”
“Splinched?” He asked, looking between Pomfrey and Hermione.
Pomfrey scowled. “They said they were practising spells.” She jutted a chin in her direction,
clearly in disbelief. “But I don’t have fifty years of experience to not know when I see an
ugly splinching.”
Hermione rolled her eyes but didn’t remove them from the door Draco had just crossed. “We
created some spells,” she said, lying through her teeth, “Some are nasty, yes. And it went
wrong.”
“Hermione,” he sighed, “can you give me a day of break?”
“I'm sorry, Dad.” She said, her eyes brimming with tears. “It wasn’t his fault. I insisted on
doing it.” She told him opened her mind for him to see.
And there it was.
Voldemort’s letter from almost two weeks ago. It has come to my attention that Miss Granger
is proving to be a distraction. If you can’t focus, Severus can take care of her for you.
Their fights, He knows! He knows about you! We can’t risk it! and We lie! We show them
something else.
And more recently, Why the fuck did you kiss him for? to I told you to not go behind my back
anymore! I told you I wouldn’t have it! You kissed her!
Earlier today, It’s not ready Hermione, it’s dangerous! from a desperate Draco and I don’t
care! We have to get this done. Can’t you see? There’s no more time left!
She entered the Vanishing Cabinet, the one that was still returning dead birds and rodents.
She shut herself inside it while Draco banged on the door to get her to leave. Severus saw the
desperation in Draco’s eyes from the small opening in the door quickly be replaced by
Hermione's desperation as pain took over her when she tried to come back and felt something
staying behind.
He lowered himself onto the chair next to her and cleared his throat. “Hermione,” his voice
came out a touch softer, a touch more controlled than he ever thought possible. How many
more times? How many more times he’d find himself in her hospital bed before this war was
over? “I can’t lose you.” He whispered to her, mustering a faint smile, “Don't do this to me.”
“I'm sorry, Dad.” She repeated and before she could add anything else he felt pain shot
through his chest. He swore. This was not the godparent bond again. This was the
Unbreakable Vow. Something might have crossed his face because Hermione startled,
Somewhere around the castle, Draco Malfoy was dying.
Where are you? He asked through the bond.
“It's him, isn’t it?” She asked, grabbing his arm and sitting up on the bed. “Draco?”
He jumped to his feet when the weak, Myrtle’s bathroom came through. “Get another bed
ready Pomfrey, I will have another student for you.” He called for the matron and she only
nodded, her eyes wide.
“DAD!”
“Tie her to the bed if needed.” He said with a pointed finger towards Hermione and he rushed
outside. The vow was squeezing his heart, his life now precariously tethered to Draco’s. He
caught the end of her complaint, no doubt Madam Pomfrey had tied Hermione to the bed.
He got to the bathroom just in time to hear Moaning Myrtle let out a deafening scream:
“MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER!”
Severus staggered at the scene, blood was spurting from Draco's face and chest in a very
particular way that took all the colour from his face. Harry was kneeling next to Draco,
repeating “No — I didn’t —” in desperation.
Draco was trashing, shaking uncontrollably in a pool of his own blood. “Don’t— Hermione,”
the boy gasped, “Don’t tell her. She will—” more blood came from his mouth, “—need you.”
Pushing Harry roughly aside, he knelt over Draco, drawing his wand, and tracing it over the
deep wounds Harry’s Sectumsempra had made, muttering the counter curse. The flow of
blood began to ease and Severus wiped the residue from Draco's face and repeated his spell.
The boy’s grey eyes were fixed on him, clear as ice. He saw the boy trying to open his mouth,
“Don’t.” He said, placing a hand on the now matted with blood hair. Severus repeated the
spell and took a deep breath as the wounds began to knit closed.
He was aware of Harry still kneeling on Draco’s side, horrified by what he had done, not
aware that he too was soaked in blood and water now. Moaning Myrtle sobbed and wailed
over them and if Severus had an extra hand he’d sent her away by then.
It took a third casting of the counter curse for him to feel satisfied that the boy would be fine.
“You need the hospital wing. There may be a certain amount of scarring, but if you take
Dittany immediately we might avoid even that.” He said, helping him to his feet. “Let’s go.”
“She's still there?” Draco asked.
“Yes, probably sending Madam Pomfrey to a bed of her own.” He supported Draco across the
bathroom, turning at the door to acknowledge Harry, “And you... You wait for me in my
quarters.”
The boy rushed through the door on shaky legs. As he walked with Draco back to the
Hospital Wing, Dumbledore’s words echoed in his mind. But how can you give your life for
each of theirs?
“My Merlin!” Madam Pomfrey said at the sight of them and reached to help Draco to a bed.
“What did you do?” Hermione shrieked, partially worried and partially aggravated, “You
stupid, selfish—”
“I'm selfish?” The boy retorted, the colour now back on his cheeks. Nothing like a nagging
girlfriend.
“Maybe a bed a bit farther down, huh?” Madam Pomfrey suggested, moving Draco two beds
downs from Hermione.
“I almost die and you run off to what? Die as well! What is this? Have you been reading
Shakespeare?”
“He needs some dittany on his scars,” Severus told her as Draco climbed on the bed, still
fighting with Hermione.
“Oh, please!” Draco scoffed, “If you haven’t been taking the whole ‘haunt me then, be with
me always, take any form'—”
The matron pulled the boy’s shirt open and her eyes widened at the state of his chest. “We
won’t have—”
“Don't quote Emily Brontë at me!” She snapped.
“Use everything you have.” He told her, trying to ignore the pair around them. “I will get
more to replace them.”
“Well, stop driving me mad, then!”
“You are driving me mad!”
“The two of you are driving me mad.” Severus snapped. “Be quiet. Can I deal with the third
problem now or the pair of you will play with death yet again?” Draco nodded. Hermione
pouted. “Good."
He turned to leave the Hospital Wing for the third time that day, leaving poor Madam
Pomfrey to work with those two.
As he walked towards his quarters, the past year made more sense to him. Harry’s sudden
brilliancy in potions, the way he smirked when he said ‘family talent’, the spell both him and
Hermione cast on Gregory Goyle at the beginning of the term. Harry had his old potions
book.
Severus opened the door to find the boy sitting in the middle of the sofa, his back straight and
his hands together on his lap. The image of penitence.
“I didn’t mean it to happen,” Harry said at once. His green eyes were orbs of despair, “I
didn’t know what that spell did.”
“For enemies,” Severus said simply. “That's what I wrote next to it.”
Harry looked down. “I didn’t think it would…”
“What? You didn’t think that a spell created by a young death eater eager to prove himself
wouldn’t be an ugly kill?”
The boy shook his head, “The others…”
“The tongue-tying curse was it friendly? Did Gregory Goyle enjoy it?” He ask, Harry shook
his head again.
“Is he okay?”
“Yes. And your sister as well.”
Harry nodded, “Ginny told me she got hurt. That Draco had brought her and there was a lot
of blood. I looked at the map and found him running to the bathroom. He was crying when I
got there. Saying how it was all his fault, that he hurt her and… We started duelling. I don’t
think either of us intended to get it violent. He was visibly angry and I provoked him. I was
also angry at what he did earlier this week and… It got out of control.”
The thing was, Severus, didn’t have the energy to deal with any of that anymore. The entire
week had been draining, this fucking day was the worst nightmare. And there would be no
release, not until Dumbledore was dead. And from there, it would only get worse.
“I want the book back.” He said with a low voice. Harry looked up at him.
“Slughorn thinks I’m brilliant,” the boy said, “I need it to—”
“You won’t need the book to impress Slughorn with the detentions I’m giving you.”
“Detentions, plural?”
“Yes. Every Saturday until the end of the term. For the three of you.”
“Saturday?” Harry asked, “But—”
“Harry, I swear if you say Quidditch.” Severus threatened and the boy closed his mouth.
“Now go get me that book.”
Severus had a lot to do. He would no longer just watch and wait. Voldemort had threatened
his daughter and in their panic, it had almost cost her and Draco’s lives.
Nothing like this would ever happen again, he wouldn’t allow it.
…
They had stopped fighting. Because Madam Pomfrey lost it and threatened to spell their
mouths shut if they didn’t.
Draco climbed on her bed and Hermione traced the scarring on his chest with her fingers.
“I'm so tired,” she said, “I want all of this to be over.”
“Me too,” he whispered and kissed her forehead before linking their hands, keeping them
against his chest. “I want to see you sprawled on the gazebo, with that flowery dress that I
like, the backless one, so I can draw my name in your freckles, I want to see you look up and
have to hide from the sun, but not before allowing me a glimpse at your eyes turning hazel.”
It was a dream, one that Hermione knew he didn’t believe he could have any more, one that
was almost too painful to even imagine, because it sounded distant and impossible.
“Don’t leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you.” She quoted and he kissed her again,
this time on her lips.
“I'm sorry,” he murmured, “for everything. I hated every second of these past weeks.”
“Me too. I’m sorry too.”
Hermione knew none of this had been them, that every hateful and harmful word they
exchanged was Voldemort’s fault. A small letter threatened her life and sent them spiralling.
The spiral turned into a cyclone when Voldemort liked the idea of the Vanishing Cabinets and
decided that no, Draco wouldn’t be using it as a way out, but he’d be using it to get the others
in.
Neither of them wanted Death Eaters in the castle, but the third letter came and it was just
Narcissa’s handwriting, shaky and almost unrecognisable. Fake words of incentive when the
only thing they got from it was that Narcissa’s hand hadn’t stopped shaking to get three lines
in a piece of parchment. The single ‘don't worry about me’ she got from pulling on her bond
with her godmother was the only thing in Hermione’s mind when she got into that half-fixed
Vanishing Cabinet.
“Draco,” she said after a while, “If we are bringing Death Eaters inside the castle, we can
also bring the Order.”
Chapter End Notes
The title and quote belong to Would That I by Hozier
Please let me know in the comments what you guys think!! and if you want to follow for
updates, it's moonyhoax on twitter.
our bodies shake as I love you goodbye
Chapter Notes
So, this has taken a long time to update. I'm sorry. I'm having a lot of trouble getting to
the end of this fic but I WILL get to it. This fic won't be abandoned please stop sending
me messages asking if I have abandoned it, I've already said countless times that I won't
abandon this fic. I know how I want it to end, I have it roughly drafted to the end but
free time to write it all is eluding me.
This hasn't been beta-ed at all, I will go over possible typos and errors later tonight, I
apologise in advance for any errors you might find.
Even Rome has to fall sometime

Kiss me in the ruins of you and I tonight
Standing at the edge of the earth
Well your euologetic eyes reflect my armagetic words
And the walls fall down at the speed of sound
Chapter Sixty Eight
“You kissed her,” Hermione repeated, certain that her ears had deceived her. “Why did you
kiss her?”
Harry rolled his eyes, “Why does one kiss another?”
“You'd be surprised,” Hermione mumbled.
“I like her.” He replied, ignoring her comment. That was valid, but Hermione thought Harry
liked Pansy. After the surprise of the discovery, she found herself cheering for them. She
wanted her brother with Pansy. “And she has been so amazing these past few weeks, after the
thing with Draco and leading the team. I just saw her and knew I wanted to kiss her, so I did.
And then we took a walk. And now we are dating.”
Hermione snorted, “A walk.”
“It truly was a walk.” He insisted, huffed, “And where are we even going, anyway?”
“Our secret Slytherin hideout.” She replied as they reached the final steps of the Astronomy
Tower.
He pulled a face. “Why am I going to a Slytherin hideout?”

“Don’t act like you haven’t befriended all of my Slytherin friends,” Hermione replied and
knocked on the door.
Draco quickly opened it and let them in. She pecked him on the lips as a greeting and was
about to greet the others when she realised Draco hadn’t let go of her but kept his arm around
her waist.
“No killing attempts today?” Draco asked Harry, holding him back with an extended arm.
“Nothing guaranteed. It depends on how often I lose sight of your hands.” Harry replied and
added a pat on Draco’s shoulder.
“Jerk,” Draco muttered as Harry brushed past him.
Hermione chuckled and kissed Draco again.
It had been a long conversation, after the whole thing. Harry told her about the spell and what
happened, he even told her that Draco asked him not to. She knew Harry wouldn’t have cast
that spell had he known what it did, as she also knew what spell Draco had tried to cast. This
was such a shitty year, so fundamentally terrible that even the things that would be once
considered unforgivable were now just another thing on the ever-growing pile of tragedies.
Her boyfriend almost cast the torture spell on her brother, her brother cast a spell that would
have killed her boyfriend, but somehow, they moved on.
Severus had taken the book from Harry and he had been given detentions - well, Draco and
Hermione as well for different things - and it had been Draco in the end, who just shrugged
and said ‘I don’t want to dislike you anymore, I don’t want nor need any other strain in my
relationship with Hermione. Let’s just… Move on with the knowledge that Hermione’s dad
created a very sick spell that can kill me if I hurt her again’. And that was it. Because they
were so tired of fighting. Because they didn’t have time to fight anymore.
Harry joined the others on the fluffy rug, plopping down between Theo and Daphne. “Pass
me the green cushion, will you?” He said to Theo.
“What green cushion?” Theo asked.
“That's green,” Harry said, pointing at the green cushion on the other side of Theo’s.
“That's forest green,” Theo said.
“Actually, that’s meridian green,” Draco amended. He sat down next to Hermione and
flipping Harry the bird, pulled her to his lap.
Harry scoffed, “Tell me you are a Slytherin without telling me you are a Slytherin.”
Theo huffed and passed the cushion, Harry placed it behind his back, now finally looking
around the place. “So, this is the secret Slytherin hideout. Neat.”
“This is where Draco comes to deflower your sister.” Blaise supplied from where he was
laying, belly on the rug, his head lightly resting against Theo’s thigh.
“Deflowering only happens once,” Daphne said. She was trying to braid Pansy’s short hair.
“But he does come here.” Suddenly twelve years old, the boys all laughed.
“Why are we talking about my sexual life?” Hermione asked exasperated.
“Because you and your boyfriend always make it our problem,” Pansy supplied, “And
because the alternatives are too harrowing.”
“That’s homophobic, Pans,” Daphne said.
However, Pansy hadn’t meant Blaise and Theo or Daphne and Padma. Hermione had caught
the subtle glance. “Is it? My bad.” Pansy replied instead. She was hurt.
Hermione looked around to see if the others had caught the rare sight of Pansy Parkinson
being upset about something. Draco nudged her with his chin and she turned around to look
at him. He gave her a small nod. They needed no words.
“Anyways,” Harry said, “What do you guys do when you are all here?”
“Nothing much. Talk. Sometimes we play cards, others we drink,” Daphne explained, “It’s
just so we can all be together without…” she pointed her chin towards Draco, “You know,
receiving death threats.”
“We should play Never Have I Ever,” Blaise suggested.
“We most definitely shouldn’t,” Hermione said firmly.
“Why not? We are all pals and share different levels of family-ness.” Blaise shrugged, “And
it’s not like we have that many secrets still between us,” a theatric pause, “or have we?”
“We should do it,” Pansy said suddenly, slapping her thigh and turning around, pulling away
from Daphne and wasting all of the girl’s hard work. The blond girl just sighed. “We might
need drinks for that.” She said and then, “Dobby!”
It was all so fast that they barely reeled in from the whiplash when Dobby popped in the
middle of them.
“Don't call him like that!” Hermione hissed.
“Harry Potter Sir! And Harry Potter Sister! And Harry Potter Friends!” Dobby said looking
around at all of them. Harry’s cheeks grew red.
“Yes, yes, we are all Harry Potter Somethings.” Pansy said with a wave, “Harry Potter wants
a drink. A bottle to share with his friends. So he can enjoy and have fun.” Pansy told the elf
and it nodded brusquely, his big ears flapping with the movement.
“Dobby will get it! Dobby will get it right now!” And he was gone.
“That was so deviously well done. Congratulations Pansy,” Blaise said.

“That was wrong! You can’t just—”
“He's a free elf, Hermione. He does whatever he wants.” Pansy replied.
“I freed him, remember?” Harry said with a smirk and Hermione caught the small,
appreciative look in Pansy’s direction. See! It’s right here, Harry! She wanted to scream and
shake her brother, You like Pansy!
“And you did the same thing when you got my dead cousin’s portrait.” Draco supplied.
Hermione only groaned, as there was no use because Dobby had just returned with a bottle of
Firewhiskey and seven glasses.
“Ok,” Pansy said, filling the glasses with just a shot and passing them around. She kept the
bottle to herself. “If you have done it, you drink. Simple as that.”
“Who's starting?” Blaise asked, “Me? Splendid.” No one stopped him, “Never have I ever…
Kept a secret from my best friend.”
Hermione braced herself for the headache and hangover she’d get. She drank. Theo, Harry,
Pansy and Draco all did the same.
“I'm so honest,” Daphne announced proudly.
“Me too, Daph. Me too,” Blaise high-fived her.
Pansy refilled their shots.
Theo was next, “Never Have I Ever kissed a Ravenclaw.”
“Right to the jugular, as always,” Blaise mumbled and took a shot. Hermione, Harry and
Daphne followed. Draco grumbled his displeasure.
Shots ready, Pansy announced, “Don’t say anything boring, Potter.”
“Potter,” Draco whispered behind Hermione’s ear, mimicking Pansy’s tone. Not so long ago
had been his tone. “She's so bothered.” Hermione nodded.
But Harry wasn't boring anymore, not when he spent that much time with Slytherins, so
Hermione just waited. “Hm. Never Have I Ever purposely got caught having sex.” He said.
“Oh yes,” Blaise laughed as he drank, “We are getting personal already.” Theo followed.
Pansy glared, “Fuck you.” She drank as well.
“Fucking voyeurs.” Draco muttered.
Daphne giggled and waited for the three shots to be refilled, “I know!” She said with a grin,
“Never Have I Ever masturbated thinking of someone in this room.”
“Christ.” Hermione gasped in surprise. It was not a surprise when everyone drank.
Pansy was not amused anymore. “Never Have I Ever had sex with someone of the same sex.”
Harry only blushed a bit, until he saw that only Hermione and Draco didn’t drink.
“Never Have I Ever had a crush on a friend’s significant other,” Draco said easily.
Pansy flipped him off, “It lasted a second.” But she drank all the same.
Harry did too and it annoyed Pansy even further. It was no secret now that she was bothered.
“Never Have I Ever lied about my feelings for someone,” Hermione said.
Daphne bit her lip to keep from laughing. Theo whistled and took a shot.
Pansy took another.
Harry didn’t. He didn’t even realise.
They had rounded back to Blaise, who raised his glass proudly and announced, “Never Have
I ever had a threesome!”
Pansy drank and got to her feet. “You are such a child. This has grown boring, I’m leaving
now.”
No one mentioned that she stumbled on her way out.
“Thank Merlin it was just ‘harmless fun’,” Daphne said around her glass.
“Or that she didn’t even care that much,” Theo added.
“You drink to that, Harry,” Blaise said, Harry was still holding his glass, looking at the place
Pansy had vacated.
“Is she…” Harry began, “Mad at me?”
Blaise snorted. “And he was the one to pull a threesome.”
“Fucking Chosen One,” Draco muttered.
The game ended, but they kept passing the bottle around, and when Hermione and Draco left
for Severus’ office for their detention, they showed true bravery by showing up drunk.
He took one glance at them, scrunched his nose and glared, “It’s four in the afternoon on a
Saturday.”
The potions office had so many ingredients and potions brewing at the same time that the
assortment of smells and fumes was only making their headache worse. “Inter-house
bonding, Uncle Sev,” Draco replied scratching his temple.
Her dad turned to her, “Your brother?”

Hermione nodded. “He's still there with the others.” She told him, “So if you are going to be
mad at me, remember that he is still drinking around the castle. And he’s underage.”
He was not impressed and showed it by giving the smelliest cauldrons for them to work on.
It was only when night had fallen that Severus took pity on them and offered a sober-up
potion, “Drink this. I need to talk to the pair of you and can’t have you drooling mid-
conversation.” They drank it eagerly and both let out an undignified sigh of relief when the
potion worked. “Hermione,” her dad began, “since you are not bloody well leaving it alone,
we will be doing this together.” He said and Draco and Hermione exchanged a look. “I will
help Draco fix the cabinet. And I want you to keep an eye on your brother. He got what
Dumbledore asked him to, so I'm worried the Headmaster may get some new idea.”
“Alright.”
“And give this to him. I’ve… Censored some things.” Draco huffed when he saw the book,
“He won’t find any spells like that one.”
***
Keeping an eye on Harry turned to be keeping an eye on the map and finding her brother’s
name in various corners of the castle alongside Ginny Weasley’s name. She now understood
why Harry had been uncomfortable when he’d see hers and Draco’s names there.
At the same time, there was a relief to be found knowing that her dad was working on the
Vanishing Cabinet with Draco, that someone who could do something now knew what was
happening and they’d be prepared for it. But mostly, she appreciated the break she got, the
moments she could now focus on her schoolwork, study for the end-of-the-year exams that
had been sorely neglected with Draco’s task and just… breathe.
Pansy was with her - snappy and bad-tempered - the only one who after six years still studied
with her for the exams. ‘Somehow your intensity gets me through it’, she had explained after
last year’s O.W.Ls, while Blaise had said that ‘no offence, I love you but you make me want
to jump from the Astronomy Tower every time I see you pull out our study plans’. She
wasn’t too bothered, after all, all of her friends were naturally good students and she got less
stressed when she didn’t have to see the state of their notes.
Hermione had the map open next to her books so she saw Harry walking towards the library,
but didn’t comment in case Pansy found an excuse to leave before he arrived. Especially
because he was by himself.
“Hey,” he said when he got to their table. Pansy tensed for a moment before schooling her
expression. “Can I study with you guys?”
“Yeah,” Hermione said.
“Where's your other half?” Pansy asked, only half sarcastic.

“He wasn’t in the mood to study and I know better now than to bring him along every time I
come after Hermione.” Pansy made a concomitant sound in reply.
Harry sat down next to Pansy. The raven-haired girl didn’t remove her eyes from the book
she was most definitely not reading. Hermione looked between the pair, they were both so
awkward. Harry stared, his mouth opening and closing around nothing. Pansy sighed
exaggeratedly and turned to face him. Hermione realised then that they had almost the same
shade of green in their eyes.
“There's no need to look at me like I’m a wounded puppy and you are about to kick me,
Potter,” Pansy said brusquely.
“It's just—” Harry began, a bit awkwardly.
“Don’t worry, really. It doesn’t bother me.” She said. A complete lie. One that was not
fooling anyone. “It suits me knowing that you will always be fond of me.” Pansy continued,
“I represent to you all the sins you never had the courage to commit.” Hermione raised an
eyebrow, since when did Pansy read Oscar Wilde? Pansy chuckled and got up, putting her
stuff in her bag in a dramatic fashion, “I mean, you did sin a bit, but the sentiment remains.”
She finished before leaving.
Harry exhaled heavily, his eyes following Pansy’s departure. She hadn’t let him get a single
word out.
“And that’s why communication is important.” Hermione said, “Especially in affairs.”
He winced, “God, don’t call it that.” He sighed and burrowed his fingers in the mess that he
called hair. “I don’t know if I had to say anything. Did I?”
“Are you asking me?”
“No.” He snorted. “We never discussed it, you know? It was something that happened while
Cho was in the picture—I know, it was wrong, but Pansy—she’s an avalanche, you know?
You never see her coming, only when it’s too late.”
Hermione snorted, it was actually a pretty decent explanation of Pansy Parkinson.
“And?” She prompted.
“This year we were just having fun, I mean she’s doing god knows what with Neville in the
Greenhouses and sometimes we’d—Anyways, I’m with Ginny now and it’s been nice, it’s
different from what I had with Cho, I don’t—” he didn’t finish, but Hermione gathered that
he didn’t want to cheat on Ginny like he had done with Cho, whatever their excuse was at the
time. “I guess I just wanted to clear the air.”
She chuckled, “You don’t need to clear the air with Pansy, she always makes sure that we all
know where we stand with her.” Hermione sighed and decided to add because Hermione
knew Pansy quite well and the tone might have gone unnoticed by those two, but not with
her. “Pansies… are colourful and delicate flowers. They are common but beautiful and the
thing about them is that they live under conditions where most things would die. You don’t
need to be careful with her, but she still can get hurt.”
Harry nodded, “I don’t… I don’t want her to get hurt.”
Hermione sighed, “I know, Harry.” She didn’t say that Pansy was hurt already, or that getting
into a relationship with Ginny might not be the smartest thing, instead, she just pulled the
potions book from her bag and handed it to him. “Dad gave it to me. He said you can have it
back now that he censored some stuff.”
His expression brightened upon seeing the book again and Hermione smiled fondly. As much
as she hated getting bested in potions because of it, she loved seeing how much Harry loved
it. Harry opened it and a small piece of paper fell out. He picked it up and Hermione watched
his face change, the surprise being replaced by something deeper, more emotional. “I—” he
began and licked his lips, before biting on his lower lip.
“What is it?”
“You can have it. Use it well. Dad.” Harry read out loud, “It’s…When Dumbledore gave me
my father’s cloak he wrote this on the note, ‘use it well’ and… this is what Theo keeps telling
me… that I can have it.” Hermione nodded, she had heard it from them before, coincidently
the same day he found the book. “He calls me son,” Harry continued, “But I haven’t… Not
yet, I—As a child, I longed for anything from mum and dad, a note with my name on it, like
those ‘out to the market, mum and dad’ Aunt Petunia used to leave Dudley, just some proof
that I had someone, that I belonged to someone. Do you know how many times I read that
letter we found in the Potter vault? It’s ridiculous. But it’s the only thing I had signed from
them to me. Until this.”
“Harry,” Hermione said softly, “You can have it.”
***
It was late June when it happened.
“It is done,” Draco said.
Severus looked up. “You did it?” He asked.
Draco nodded, “I wish I hadn’t, but yes. It’s ready.”
Severus had been surprised by Draco and Hermione’s work. The pair had gone above and
beyond with ideas to fix that cabinet. It would have awarded them many points in almost
every subject across the curriculum if their work hadn’t been, well, illegal.
He had joined Draco a few times when he had an opening between classes, but Draco was
using every spare second and not only those to work on the cabinet.
“Congratulations,” Severus said. “You’ve been brilliant.”

Draco scowled, “I'm getting Death Eaters inside the castle.” He said, “There's nothing to be
proud of.”
“Consequences notwithstanding, it was magic well beyond your years,” Severus said, “And
they are not the only ones entering the castle tonight,” Severus added.
“Tonight?” Draco asked, eyes wide. “Are we doing it tonight?”
“Yes,” Severus said. “No reason to postpone it any longer. I will inform Remus and Sirius,
and get them ready.”
“We don’t know how many Death Eaters are coming, two might—”
“There will be more. But I can’t risk informing the entire Order too soon or else we might
lose the opportunity to do what we need to do.”
A pause.
And then Draco changed in front of him.
“And Hermione?” Draco asked.
Severus held the boy’s gaze, “We keep it from her.” He said, “With the Death Eaters around,
we need both her and Harry away from the corridors. We don’t know what orders the Death
Eaters will be following, but we cannot risk any of them being spotted. I have a detention
with Harry tonight. I will try to keep him for as long as possible and send him out around
eight so he has no other option but to return to his Common Room to escape curfew.”
Draco was sombre when he replied, “I can do that.”
“Go on then,” He said. “We have no time to lose.” The boy—no, the young man nodded and
turned to leave. “Draco,” Severus called when Draco was almost at the door. “Say goodbye to
your girlfriend.”
Draco’s entire body tensed, but he didn’t reply as he left.
Severus sighed. He grabbed the picture Remus had sent him at the beginning of the term,
looking at it once more. We are fighting for them. Draco at least would get to have a goodbye.
The knowledge she’d be safe would have to be enough.
He put the photo away and got to his feet. He had things to do.
***
She had been studying, the official start of her study marathon for the exams, when Draco
appeared in the aisle directly to the right of her in the library. He motioned with his head for
her to walk towards him. This close to the exams, the library was crowded and neither of
them would risk being seen now, not when the summer holidays were mere weeks away.
“What is it?” She asked him, coming up to him and feeling her body relax once she felt his
hand on her cheeks. He didn’t reply, just kept looking at her, one hand on her cheek and the
other on her waist. Hermione loved when he looked at her like that. When she could see
exactly how much he loved her in the specs of blue, or how the grey got darker each time his
eyes found her lips.
“I love you,” he said as she knew he would. His face had said it before he opened his mouth.
He loved her with each and every inch of his body and she could see it. “I want to see you
tonight, I know you are busy with studies and—”
“I want it too.” She said, cutting him off. The Sectumsempra scars on his chest had changed
something in her. She could have lost him, she would take all the moments now. Hermione
traced her fingers over his shirt, where she knew they were. “Where?”
“There’s an empty classroom in the dungeons, the one with the low ceiling, by the bathroom
you got stuck in our first year.” He said and Hermione nodded, she knew where it was. One
of the farthest classrooms in the dungeons, usually forgotten even by the most mischievous
student. “At eight. Wait for me there.”
“All right,” she said.
“I—” Draco began and Hermione noticed he was struggling with something, “Father used to
tell me that fear is not a reason to cease and desist, but the inspiration to strike out.” He said
instead of whatever he had swallowed down, “I want you to… To remember this. Just—” he
struggled once more, “Remember. Even when things seem impossible or you feel scared.
Remember that you are talented, strong and successful.” No, “Be good at what you do
because you are good at what you do…”
“Draco,” she began because she knew that tone. She hated it.
“I will see you later tonight, okay?” He cut her off and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I love
you,” Draco whispered against her lips and before she could grip his shirt and keep him with
her, he was pulling away and walking into the main aisle, away from her fingertips.
She didn’t find him the rest of the day, he missed classes and the hole in her stomach became
a pit, Tartarus desperate to swallow her inside.
Hermione left the common room at eight o’clock, her heartbeat matching her steps on the
stone floor. The corridors were empty despite being an hour still to curfew and this far below
in the castle, not even the June weather could warm her bones. “Draco?” She called once she
arrived.
Nothing.
She tapped her bracelet to let him know she was there and waited for his response. Fifteen
minutes passed with nothing.
Thirty minutes had passed when Hermione let the feeling that Draco might not be coming
after all wash over her. Still, she waited, part of her refusing to believe the implications,
refusing to accept that maybe, that moment in the library had not been a simple meeting, but
a goodbye.
It took almost an hour for her to sigh, blink the tears away and breathe the pain in her chest
away. Draco wouldn’t be coming and the words he had swallowed down then were clear now,
they had been a goodbye. She stood up, ready to scour the castle for him when the door
opened.
Her heart held up inside her chest and it dropped the moment she saw a head of red hair
instead of blonde.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Ron Weasley asked her.
Hermione frowned, “What are you doing here?”
“I had to use the mirror, knock on your common room door and depend on fucking Parkinson
to help me.” When her expression didn’t change, he added, “Harry sent me after you.” Ron
explained. “He has left the castle with Dumbledore. And he caught your boyfriend
celebrating earlier today, he thinks something might happen while they are gone. He gave me
the Felix Felicis.”
No, Hermione thought. He showed her the map, “How did you get it?” She asked him, as she
knew the map had been in her room.
“I told you, Parkinson helped.”
“Give me the map,” she said, snatching the thing off his hand. Her eyes scanned the entire
thing. Draco was nowhere to be found, her dad was pacing his office and neither Harry nor
Dumbledore were in the castle. “Has Harry said anything about where he and Dumbledore
were going?”
Ron shook his head, “Not exactly. But Harry told me Dumbledore found a Horcrux, but we
know there's—”
“There's only one left yeah,” She finished for him. Fuck. “Which one do you think they are
going after?” Come on, Hermione, think.
“Dumbledore told him about the Hufflepuff Cup and the Slytherin locket, it could be either of
those.”
“Even if he found out where the Cup is—or was—he wouldn't be able to get it… which
means they are going after the Locket.” She concluded, “To where Regulus died.”
“What are we going to do?” Ron asked.
Hermione’s mind was a million per hour. Regulus died in that cave, she knew about the Inferi
and the fake locket there, but Harry also knew about it. So he knew what to expect once he
arrived there.
Harry had heard Draco celebrating and Draco had clearly tried to put her away, which meant
he had fixed that bloody cabinet and not told her. Which meant he would be bringing the
Death Eaters inside the castle tonight. Oh, but she wouldn’t let him get away with that
particular plan of his without her.
“What Harry told us to do.” She replied. “The Felix Felicis?” She asked.
Ron handed it to her. “He wants to give it to Ginny as well and wants us to call the members
of the D.A., some might still carry the coins with them.”
Hermione took a sip of the potion and then gave it back to him. At that moment, she saw
them, the names on the map on the seventh floor. “Call the D.A. Ron,” she said, “We have
company.”
“Fuck,” he swore, “Your boyfriend—”
“I will deal with him.” She replied. “Warn the others.”
“And you?” He asked.
Hermione pointed to Draco’s name, now going in an opposite direction as the Death Eaters,
“I’m going after Draco.”
“They are heading down to the Great Hall,” Ron noted and set to pass the message around
with the galleon. Immediately, Hermione felt it burn in her pocket. She hoped more people
still had them.
She knew who would, “Let’s go towards the Slytherin Common Room,” she said and ignored
the face Ron pulled, “They will have received the message, we will make our way up
together.”
They had just turned the corner when she found her friends, “Is it true?” Theo asked, his eyes
quickly looking her up and down.
“Yes.” She replied, “They are here. The Carrow twins, Yaxley, Rowle, Gibbon, Bellatrix and
Fenrir Greyback.” Blaise swore. She continued, “I need to go after Draco, but I need help to
get past the Death Eaters. They are headed towards the Great Hall.”
“Fucking finally.” Theo muttered, “Asking for help.”
“Is your brother back?” Pansy asked her.
“I don’t know, but he’s with Dumbledore and something tells me that Draco is going to find a
way to make sure Dumbledore goes straight to him once he gets back.”
“We got your back, Granger,” Blaise said, “Let's go. I’ve been dying to get back at the
Carrows.”
Together they made their way up and sooner than later, they began firing. The Death Eaters
seemed eager to find them and even more so when they saw how many Slytherins were firing
against them. With the Felix Felicis in her system, Hermione managed to slip away easily and
she had just gotten to the second floor when she met Neville, Luna and Ginny coming down
the stairs.
“Hermione!” Neville called.
“They are in the Great Hall,” she said without stopping, “Death Eaters and my friends.”
“Ron?” Ginny asked.
“He's there."
“And what about you?” Neville asked her, reaching for her arm. “Where are you going?”
“I have somewhere to be.”
“Where's Harry?” Ginny asked again.
“Getting there.” She said.
“Are you going by yourself?” Neville asked.
“I will be fine,” she said, “I have to go.”
Hermione wrenched her arm from Neville’s grip and resumed her run, going two steps at a
time towards the Astronomy Tower.
She saw the dim green light first and the reflection on the window panels next. The
astronomy tower looked empty, but she knew better. Someone had cast the Dark Mark there.
“You were supposed to be waiting for me in the dungeons.” She heard from the other side of
the ramparts.
“And you were supposed to be there an hour ago.” She replied, “You didn’t really expect me
to stay put once I realised you had no intention of being there.”
“Fucking hell, Hermione.” He hissed and came up to the light, he looked pale and there was
already sweat on his brow.
“There are some friends of yours downstairs.” She told him and stepped back when he made
to reach for her, “You lied to me.” Hermione hissed at him, “We promised each other to do
this together.”
“I never planned to keep it.”
“Was my dad part of it?” She asked him. Draco nodded. Hermione scowled.
“I should have locked you inside a broom cupboard.” He told her and put her behind him
when they heard the sound of magical wards being breached.
“I would have brought the castle down if you did,” she replied in a whisper.
“Quiet.” He said and pointed his wand, she soon followed, still a step behind him. Now, they
were both hidden in the darkness.
They heard voices coming from the crenellated ramparts and two pairs of feet, however, only
Dumbledore appeared at the Astronomy Tower. Hermione looked around, to the door of the
spiral staircase she had closed moments ago.
Draco burst forth, calling “Expelliarmus!” as he went. Hermione watched in the darkness as
the headmaster’s wand flew in an arc towards Draco’s hand. Harry was somewhere there
under his cloak. Why wasn’t he showing himself?
“Good evening, Draco.” Dumbledore greeted, Draco’s eyes quickly rested upon the second
broom before returning to the slouched form of the headmaster. He was dying. Whatever had
happened at the cave, he had taken the worst of it. But where was her brother?
“Who else is here?” Draco asked.
“A question I might ask you. Or are you acting alone?”
“No,” Draco replied. “I’ve got back-up. There are Death Eaters here in your school tonight.”
“Well, well,” Dumbledore replied, not sounding very impressed or surprised, “Very good
indeed. You found a way to let them in, did you?”
“Yeah,”
"Where are they now? You seem unsupported.” Dumbledore said.
“Apparently they met some of your guard.” He replied and Hermione caught the glint in
Dumbledore’s eyes even amidst the darkness.
“Apparently?” Dumbledore repeated, “And how did you learn that? Is there someone else
keeping you up-to-date?” He asked, “Someone who might have been helping you all along?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Draco said, not biting into Dumbledore’s words. “I’ve got a job to do,”
Draco said.
“Well, then, you must get on and do it, my dear boy,” Dumbledore said softly. His tone irked
Hermione. He had Harry hidden somewhere, Hermione was certain of it. But there was only
silence. Harry might not be Dumbledore’s biggest fan, but he wouldn’t stand idly at the side
while Dumbledore invited Draco to finish his mission. "Draco, Draco, Draco,” Dumbledore
sang, his tone something you would hear reserved for a child, “You are not a killer.”
“You don’t know what I’m capable of,” Draco replied, “you don’t know what I’ve done!”
“Oh, yes, I do,” Dumbledore said mildly, almost amused. “You almost killed Katie Bell and
Ronald Weasley. You have been trying, with increasing desperation, to kill me all year. Such
desperation that you sent your girlfriend to the Hospital Wing.” Hermione’s wand was firmly
pointed at the headmaster’s chest. “Tell me, she has been not a step behind you all year, how
did you give her the slip tonight?”
“He didn’t.” She replied and came up behind Draco, after all, she had been not a step behind
him.
“Of course,” Dumbledore said, his smile was unnerving.
“Where's my brother?” She asked.
“I'm here alone, Miss Granger.”
“No, you are not.” She replied, “I know you left the castle with him. What did you do to
him?”
“What did I do?” Dumbledore repeated, “Hermione, I’m afraid I’m not half the person you
believe me to be.”
“No.” She said and came to stand next to Draco. “I think you are worse.” She said.
“As you are.” Dumbledore said, “Tell me, how have the two of you brought the Death Eaters
inside the castle? It mustn’t have been easy.”
Draco took hold of her hand, this time she didn’t shake him away. This time, they were
together. “We mended the broken Vanishing Cabinet that no one’s used for years. The one
Montague got lost in last year.” “Huh,” Dumbledore huffed, partially in surprise and the other
part in pain. He closed his eyes for a moment. “So let me guess, there is a pair, I take it?”
“The other’s in Borgin and Burkes and they make a kind of passage between them. Montague
told me that when he was stuck in the Hogwarts one, sometimes he could hear what was
going on at school, and sometimes what was going on in the shop as if the Cabinet was
travelling between them, but he couldn’t make anyone hear him… Of course, he didn’t
realise what shop he had been hearing, I figured that out myself.”
“Very good,” Dumbledore praised and Hermione hated the condescending he sounded. “So
those crude attempts, what were they? Moments where you were not so sure you would
succeed in mending the Cabinet?”
“I didn’t use the Cabinet to bring them in so I could kill you with them here in the castle.”
Draco said, “I don’t need them.”
“Oh, no?”
“I needed the cabinet to leave the castle after you were gone.”
“That seemed to have escalated then,” Dumbledore said, “So, what now? You kill me and the
Death Eaters take my castle?” He asked and turned to look at her briefly, “Are you taking
Miss Granger with you? She is not innocent in this plan, after all,” he said and then spoke to
her, “Your father has been so very worried about you all year long, lying to his Lord and
keeping things from me so you are safe and here you are, working for the man who killed
your mother.”
Hermione scoffed, “Voldemort cast the spell yes,” she said, “But my mother died the moment
she trusted you to keep her safe. You condemned them when you took the Invisibility Cloak
from James and you’ve disrespected their memory every day since.”
“Are you casting the spell then?” He asked her. “It will make you a killer, Hermione.”
There was a loud noise from below, the fight had gotten to where they were. They couldn’t
separate the voices, but she knew they didn’t have much time left.
“You are a dead man already.” She said, “And instead of meeting Death you’ve asked my dad
to do it, you allowed Draco to believe he would be committing murder, but you died the
moment you let your ego win and put that ring on your finger.”
“So this is what you told yourself. Of course, you would have rationalised your action. I hope
this will be enough to save your soul.”
“You should worry about your soul, headmaster.” Hermione said, “As both my soul and my
heart will be lighter once you are not using my family as pawns in your game. You’ve been
choosing our fates all our lives, you’ve even planned your own death, but not anymore. I get
to choose now. And your fate is in my hands.”
Dumbledore slid further down the wall, his legs barely holding his weight anymore, his eyes
were grave upon her and he flicked his fingers lazily towards the side, pulling the cloak out
of Harry with wandless magic. The movement seemed to take all of his strength. “Cast your
judgement under your brother’s eyes, then.”
Hermione met Harry’s green eyes and she understood why he hadn’t moved, he was under
the freezing charm. But if Dumbledore thought she’d hesitate with Harry there, he had once
more misjudged her. Harry was the one person she’d cast the spell for twice.
There was a bang and shouts from below, louder than ever; it sounded as though people were
fighting on the actual spiral staircase and they’d be there anytime now.
“Granger,” Draco said, pulling her hand, “let me do it.”
“No.” She said and looked at Harry, “He hurt us too much.”
Draco wrapped his hand over hers, so both of them were holding her wand. “Together, then.”
“Avada Kedavra!” She cast and Draco’s voice echoed hers. A jet of green light shot from her
wand and she didn’t stagger, because Draco was there, right there with her. They watched in
silence as Dumbledore was blasted into the air and then fell slowly backwards, like a great
rag doll, over the battlements and out of sight.
He was gone.
The door exploded the next second and they turned, their wands poised and her dad stopped
mid-step at the sight of them.
“The two of you, out of here, right now.” Snape barked.

“Dad—”
“They are right behind me, the Order might not hold them for much longer.”
“The room,” Draco said tugging her towards the portrait of his great-grandfather. “Hide in
there.”
“Harry,” Severus called, stepping around them and pushing Harry towards Draco and
Hermione.
Her brother tripped and seemed to be taking everything a second too slow.
“Dad,” Hermione called again and this time he looked at her.
“I love you,” he told her, his hand lightning quick on her arm, “I love you.” He repeated,
“But I need you hidden right now.” She nodded and grabbed Harry, who had been all but
shoved towards her, “Harry, I love you too.” He told her brother, “Remember that. Both of
you.” And then he closed the door on them.
She didn’t have time to look back at Draco. She didn’t remember the last look on his face
before the door closed, leaving him on the other side.
Hermione reached for her brother, who gave her a small nod and pulled her to him. Slowly
and silently, they moved closer to the door, trying to hear the other side.
“—I did it.” Her dad was saying. “It needs to be me.”
“Uncle—”
“No, Draco. I did it.” He insisted and whatever Draco replied was too muffled, “Avada
Kedavra!”
Hermione’s body shook this time and she saw Dumbledore’s body falling again behind her
eyelids, the frozen expression on his face as he disappeared on the other side of the
battlements.
“What do we have here?” They heard it, it was a feminine voice. Alecto.
"It is done,” Severus said. “Dumbledore is dead. We need to go.”
“But I thought Little Draco would wait for us!”
Severus scowled, “You took too long.” He said, “School children overpowering you again.”
“The Order arrived, Snape,” Amycus growled, “It wasn’t children.”
“Excuses.” Severus dismissed them, “Let's go.” He said again.
“It smells like…” Fenrir began from the other side and Hermione took a step back from the
door, pulling Harry with her, “Girl.”
“Do you want to get caught?” Severus snapped, “We need to leave the castle before they
bring more people inside.”
Finally, their voices disappeared and their steps faded away. Some shouts were coming from
the battle happening downstairs, but Hermione felt the events of the past minutes coming to
her and out of her. She retched.
“Hey,” Harry said, coming next to her and helping with her hair.
“I killed him.” She said, tears blurring her vision, “I killed Dumbledore.”
“He was dying already,” Harry whispered, his hand rubbing comforting circles on her back,
“He was going to die tonight with or without your spell.”
“I cast an Unforgivable,” she said.
“I cast one too,” he said.
Hermione looked up at him, “Aren't you angry?”
“About a lot of things, but we have more pressing matters than that.”
She whirled around, “More pressing matters?"
“Yes!” He replied, helping her up, “There are Death Eaters in the castle, brought in by you
and your boyfriend, our dad and your boyfriend are running away with them and our friends
might be injured along the way. Oh! And Dumbledore took me to the cave where Regulus
died, so I almost died for nothing.”
“We got the Order too,” She replied, “Remus and Sirius were here the moment the Death
Eaters arrived.”
“Cheers.”
“Harry, I killed the Headmaster.”
“I saw it, Hermione.” He said, “Do you want to discuss your criminal offence now?” He
asked, “If it bothers you so much, I killed Quirrell when I was eleven and then the Basilisk at
twelve, so you are a bit slow on things.” He shrugged, “We have to go,” Harry said, “Are you
alright?” Hermione nodded, “They are probably gone, but the others…” She trailed off,
voices were coming from the other side. They were muffled at first, but they were soon
recognised as their godfathers’ and Tonks’.
“Should we…?” Harry began.
Hermione shook her head, “I’m not supposed to be here, remember? We will find them
downstairs.”
Harry nodded and they waited in silence for them to leave. They opened the door carefully,
looking to see if they were truly alone.
“Wait,” she paused and went to grab the cloak from the floor, next to where Dumbledore had
been. She hesitated for a moment, but she didn’t dare to look over the edge.
“They are going to ask us what happened.”
Harry looked at her once more, “Dad is taking the fall for you,” he said, “Dad wanted Draco
to say he had been the one to do it. Not you or Draco.” Harry said. Hermione nodded, “We do
the same. The Order can’t know it was you.”
“Are you lying for me?”
“Hermione,” Harry said and stopped in front of her, he took hold of her arms, “A lot of things
happened tonight that we don’t have time to discuss now, but he used his last strength to try
to manipulate you by seeing me, had I not been stuck under his spell, I’d be holding your
other hand.”
She nodded and sniffed, not realising she had been close to crying. “Thank you, Harry.”
"You said it, he hurt us too much.” He replied, “Now get under the Cloak. It’s better if I’m
the only one seen coming out of here.”
They didn’t have to worry, because the Death Eaters had left and the fight had followed them
on their way out. The corridors leading out of the astronomy tower were empty, but as they
reached the main staircases there were already students, half-clad in pyjamas, coming out of
their common room looking at each other in uncertainty. She could hear the whispers ‘Was it
true that Death Eaters infiltrated the castle?’ and ‘the Dark Mark was cast in the sky!
“Harry!” They heard and turned to the source of the voice, Sirius came trotting towards them.
He pulled Harry to his chest, “I was so worried when I couldn't find you.” He said, “Severus
came out with the Death Eaters saying it had been done, they needed to leave and we
couldn’t find you… Where’s Hermione? No one has seen her—”
“I'm here,” she whispered and Sirius disguised a jump just in time.
“Why are you under the cloak?” He asked, an eyebrow raised in suspicion, trying to find her
with his hand.
“Hiding,” she said simply as she removed the cloak.
“Where are the others?” Harry asked.
“At the Hospital Wing. Bill got injured by Greyback and Remus is with him now.”
“Has anyone…” He trailed off.
“No. A Death Eater is dead. Neville got hurt, but Madam Pomfrey says he will make a full
recovery.”
“And my friends?” She asked.

"Hard to crack those,” Sirius replied. “They are fine. Everyone is at the Hospital Wing. We
should go there, we had some people after the pair of you.”
They nodded and followed Sirius. Hermione shot Harry a look, they don’t know yet.
“Sirius,” Harry called quietly, “There’s… there’s something you need to know.”
Sirius turned around, “What?”
“Dumbledore's dead.” Harry said, “That’s what Severus meant. It had been done. He killed
Dumbledore.” Her heart twisted and behind her eyes, the Headmaster fell over the edge. Had
anyone found his body yet?
Hermione bit down her lower lip and held Sirius’ gaze when he rested it on her. “That’s why
you were under the cloak,” Sirius said and pulled her to his chest, hugging her tight. "Fucking
hell, Hermione.” He muttered and she felt her body shaking against his.
“I ki—” She began and he shook his head, making a shushing sound.
“Not here, kiddo.” He whispered, “Not here.”
They reached the hospital wing in silence, pushing open the doors, they saw Neville lying
unconscious in a bed near the door. Pansy was next to him, a hand on his hair, Daphne was
with her and gasped when she saw Hermione. Everyone looked up both at the sound of the
doors opening and at Daphne’s relieved gasp. Remus ran to them, hugging both of them at
the same time. “I was so worried,” he muttered and the pair squeezed Remus. “Are you
alright?”
They both nodded and Remus let them go, walking back towards the bed further down.
Harry hugged Ron and kissed Ginny while Hermione hid between Theo and Blaise, both of
them keeping her between them. On the bed, Bill looked unrecognisable, his face badly
slashed and ripped. Hermione couldn’t barely look at him.
“Can’t you fix them with a charm or something?” Harry asked the matron.
She shook her head, “No charm will work on these,” she replied. “I’ve tried everything I
know, but there is no cure for werewolf bites.”
“But he wasn’t bitten at the full moon,” Ron said, sounding like it hadn’t been the first time
he said it. Differently from Hermione, he seemed unable to look away.
“Greyback hadn’t transformed, so surely Bill won’t be a— a real–-?” He looked uncertainly
at Remus.
“No, I don’t think that Bill will be a true werewolf,” Remus replied, Hermione noticed how
quickly he had found Sirius and held onto the other man’s jacket pocket, “but that does not
mean that there won’t be some contamination. Those are cursed wounds.” Remus explained,
“They are unlikely ever to heal fully, and – and Bill might have some wolfish characteristics
from now on."
“Dumbledore might know something that’d work, though,” Ron said and Hermione tensed.
Harry looked down. “Where is he? Bill fought those maniacs on Dumbledore’s orders,
Dumbledore owes him, he can’t leave him in this state–-”
“Ron… Dumbledore’s dead,” Harry muttered.
Theo and Blaise tensed next to her, but their arms didn’t waver around her. Remus looked
between Harry, Sirius and her, as though waiting for any of them to comment further.
“How did he die?” Tonks whispered when neither of them spoke. “How did it happen?”
“Severus killed him,” Harry said. Another twist in her chest. How many more times would
she see the headmaster falling from the tower because of the spell at the end of her wand?
Harry continued, “I was there, I saw it. We arrived back at the Astronomy Tower because
that’s where the Mark was…” Harry stopped for a moment, looking around. Everyone was
hanging to his every word. They hadn’t gone over their story.“Dumbledore was ill, he was
weak, but I think he realised it was a trap when we heard footsteps running up the stairs. He
immobilised me, I couldn’t do anything, I was under the Invisibility Cloak – and then Draco
came through the door and Disarmed him.” Ron groaned. Pansy and Daphne had walked
towards her, silently making a small Slytherin front around her. “And then… Da-Then Snape
did it. The Avada Kedavra.” Madam Pomfrey burst into tears.
Ron whirled around, “You were supposed to go after Malfoy!” He announced, his tone
accusing her, “What happened? Where did you go?”
“I—” She started, but before she could say anything else they heard it. Somewhere out in the
darkness, a phoenix was singing: a stricken lament of terrible beauty. She had done it. This
song, this grief, it was her fault.
The hospital door opened again and Professor McGonagall entered the ward. Like all the rest,
she looked like she had fought: there were grazes on her face and her robes were ripped.
“Molly and Arthur are on their way,” she announced and the spell of the music was broken.
The attention had left Hermione for a moment, but not everyone had forgotten Ron’s
accusation. Remus looked at her once more and then back at Sirius. Sirius gave a small nod.
Hermione shrunk. Theo wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her back up with him.
“I was with Hagrid. The Death Eaters set fire to his hut. He said Professor Snape was
involved in some—”
“Snape killed Dumbledore,” Harry said once more. Every time he said it, the guilt seemed to
want to swallow her further.
McGonagall stared at him for a moment, then swayed alarmingly; Madam Pomfrey, who
seemed to have pulled herself together, ran forwards, conjuring a chair from thin air, which
she pushed under McGonagall.
“Snape,” she repeated faintly, falling into the chair. “But…” Her eyes found Hermione,
standing sandwiched between her friends. “Why would he… Albus trusted him… I can’t
believe it…”
“He was a highly accomplished Occlumens,” Remus said, his voice uncharacteristically
harsh. “We always knew that.”
He knew, Hermione thought. He figured it out already.
“But Dumbledore swore he was on our side!” Tonks retorted. “And with Hermione—” she
stopped when the glare thrown at her could be felt.
McGonagall was shaking her head, “You trusted him!” She accused, “You worked with him
all these years. He was…” She made a vague motion towards Hermione and Harry, “I wanted
him to take Harry.” McGonagall finished, seeming defeated.
Harry swallowed, it was his dad too. Her brother had accepted him, had called him dad and
now they were destroying everything he built in the past years, all the thrust he won.
“What happened?” Harry asked instead. “After the Death Eaters arrived.”
“I don’t know exactly how it happened,” their Transfiguration professor said distractedly.
“It’s all so confusing… Dumbledore had told us that he would be leaving the school for a few
hours and that we were to patrol the corridors just in case… Bill and Nymphadora were to
join us… and so we patrolled. All seemed quiet. Every secret passageway out of the school
was covered. We knew nobody could fly in. There were powerful enchantments at every
entrance into the castle. I still don’t know how the Death Eaters can possibly have entered…”
“Hermione knows,” Ron said. And every pair of eyes turned to her. “They were with her
boyfriend,” he announced, “You know how he did it. I know you do.”
She looked around. Bill was badly hurt and Neville was unconscious. Her dad was now a
murderer and her boyfriend a criminal.
“He used a pair of Vanishing Cabinets,” Harry said before she could incriminate herself. "He
explained the entire thing,” Harry told them what Draco had said, how he didn't
plan on bringing the Death Eaters inside, that he wanted to use it to flee the castle. “They
came through the Room of Requirement.”
Ron scowled. “I wanted to do what you told me,” he said, “but I couldn’t find Hermione.
Parkinson answered Hermione’s mirror and she gave me the Map so I could track down
Hermione. I lost so much time looking for her.”
“Where were you?” McGonagall asked.
“In the dungeons,” Hermione replied, “Draco had asked me earlier to wait for him there. I
know now he wanted me out of the way. I—”
“Did you find him after you left?” Ron asked and then turned to the room at large, “We called
the members of the D.A. but only they answered,” he pointed at the Slytherins and at Luna
and Ginny, “We met the Death Eaters at the entrance of the Great Hall, we began firing at
each other but Hermione was gone before everything got dark.”
“Dark?” Harry asked.

“Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder,” Ron explained bitterly. “Fred and George’s. I’m going
to be having a word with them about who they let buy their products—’’
“We met Hermione on our way down,” Ginny carried on, “but when we got there we couldn’t
see anything. We tried everything – Lumos, Incendio, nothing would penetrate the darkness,
all we could do was grope our way out of the corridor again, and meanwhile we could hear
people rushing past us.”
Theo spoke then, “They could see in the darkness. Bellatrix was carrying the Hand of Glory,
but we didn’t cast anything in case we hit each other, but they had orders.” He explained,
“They were eager to fire at us,” he pointed at himself and Blaise, “but all of a sudden they
stopped and began retreating. It was like they received some information and went the other
way. By the time we’d reached a light corridor, we had lost them.”
“Luckily,” Remus said hoarsely and squeezed Theo’s shoulder. It was only then that
Hermione realised he had also moved to stand next to her. “We found them almost
immediately and they told us what had happened. We found the Death Eaters minutes later,
heading in the direction of the Astronomy Tower. The Death Eaters had exhausted his supply
of Darkness Powder and the fight resumed, they scattered and we gave chase.”
“And then Snape showed up,” Tonks said. “We were in trouble, we were losing. Gibbon had
died already, but all the others were ready to fight to death.”
“My cousin wanted to finish the job,” Sirius added.
“Bill had been attacked and Neville had been hurt. We couldn’t get past the stairs to the
Tower, one of them blocked the stairs behind them with some kind of curse… It kept
throwing us up into the air—That was what happened to Neville.”
“None of us could break through,” Ron added, “and that massive Death Eater was still firing
off jinxes all over the place, they were bouncing off the walls and barely missing us… That
was when Snape appeared. He ran through the barrier with no problem.”
“Where were you?” McGonagall asked again. And it took a moment for Hermione to realise
the question had been asked towards her.
“Dad…” She began and McGonagall, Madam Pomfrey, Tonks and Ron reacted at the name,
“He found me on my way up. He—hid us in a broom closet.” She said, weaving the story as
she went, “We could hear the Death Eaters passing by and then the fight. He left me there and
locked me in. I don’t think anyone could hear me, I tried to get out.” Hermione lied.
“Father of the Year award,” Ron scowled. Hermione winced.
“So he passed everyone?” Harry asked, the others nodded, “And then he killed Dumbledore.
Some other Death Eaters arrived. The twins and Greyback,” he said, telling what they had
heard behind doors. “They were annoyed that Snape and Draco didn’t wait for them, Snape
said they were taking too long. And then they all left.”
“We just let them pass,” Tonks said in a defeated tone. “Him and my cousin. “We thought the
Death Eaters were chasing them – and next thing, the other Death Eaters and Greyback were
back and we were fighting again – I thought I heard Snape shout something, but I don’t know
what–-”
“He shouted, ‘It’s over,’” Sirius added, the thing he had told them when they first found each
other, “That ‘He’d done what he’d meant to do.”
The doors of the hospital wing burst open, making them all jump. Mr and Mrs Weasley were
striding up the ward, Fleur just behind them, her beautiful face terrified.
“Molly, Arthur.” Professor McGonagall said, jumping up and hurrying to greet them. "I am
so sorry–”
“Bill,” Mrs Weasley whispered, darting past Professor McGonagall as she caught sight of
Bill’s mangled face. “Oh, Bill!”
"Take the kids,” Remus told Sirius and seemed to realise the amount of kids they had with
them, “All of them. I need to stay to speak with the Weasleys about Bill…”
Mrs Weasley was currently bombarding McGonagall with questions, who was already
throwing helpless looks at Remus. Sirius nodded.
“Let's go Good Snakes and—” he paused at Luna, “Distant relative, I’m certain.”
“My mother was a Lestrange.” The girl supplied and Sirius snapped his fingers.
“I knew it.” He said, “Let's all go to the Ravenclaw Tower first and then we head down to the
Dungeons—”
The door opened again and they all jumped. Hagrid strode in, carrying something in his arms
under a blanket. His face was swollen and his beard looked soaked, he was shaking with
tears. Hermione immediately looked away.
“The Headmaster is dead,” Hagrid announced between sobs. “He—I found him—The
Astronomy Tower—He—”
Mrs Weasley let out a sound of despair, Madam Pomfrey sobbed at the sight of the
headmaster’s body.
“Pads,” Remus called urgently, “The kids.” But he meant Hermione.
“Come on now,” Sirius said, holding onto Hermione, “Let's get you all out of here.”
They were silent on the way to the Ravenclaw Tower, Luna only waved them goodnight after
answering her riddle and before the door was closed Sirius had turned around, ushering them
back to the stairs.
“You fought against the Death Eaters,” Sirius spoke to her friends, “Are you going to be
alright back in the common room?” He asked.
Pansy was the first one to nod. “I doubt they know we did it. But they probably know
Dumbledore is dead.” She said.
“Take the cloak,” Harry offered, looking at Pansy. “You can give it to Hermione after.”
Pansy hesitated but took it from him without a word.
“I want the two of you with me,” Sirius said to her and Harry, “No doubt the Ministry will be
warned soon and they will want to ask the pair of you questions. No one is getting to either of
you without passing by me first.”
Blaise threw Theo a quick look, who only nodded. “I will go with the girls,” Blaise said,
“Three can fit under the Cloak, right?” He asked and Harry nodded, “You stay with Granger.”
He added to Theo, “Remus will want to bite your head off.” Whether it was an excuse or not,
Hermione was glad to have Theo with her. She hugged Blaise in thanks and he squeezed her.
“It's going to be alright, Love.”
“Come on,” Sirius said, “Let's get out of the corridors.”
“Where do we go?”
Hermione and Harry exchanged a glance. “Dad's quarters.” She said.
***
It was a terribly long night. Sirius asked Harry to tell him everything that had happened from
the moment he left the castle with Dumbledore to when he returned, and then he asked
Hermione to do the same on her side. Theo listened to it all in silence. Remus arrived a few
hours later and once more they had to retell the night’s events.
Different Patronus appeared: Arthur Weasley’s, Professor McGonagall’s, Kingsley

Shacklebolt’s and Alastor Moody’s. Sirius and Remus replied the same thing to all of them:
tomorrow.
Remus looked at her, "Are you okay?" Hermione nodded, which was only partially true.
Remus seemed to understand that because something very akin to pity showed on his face.
"It's late," he said, "We are all tired and shaken. We will talk about it tomorrow, alright? The
three of you go sleep on his bed,” Remus told them, “Sirius and I will take the sofa.”
Neither of them argued and they took turns changing in the bathroom before they all climbed
into bed. Hermione settled in the middle, keeping both boys close to her,
“What’s going to happen now?” She asked.
“We will find out soon enough,” Theo replied.
Chapter End Notes

The title and quote at the beginning belong to Rome Falls by Panicland
Excerpts have been taken from Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, they don't
belong to me.
since some liar brought the thunder
Chapter Notes
Hello!! I apologise profusely for the immense delay and the time between updates
getting longer and longer! But I'm finally moved in, settled and ready to get back on
track! I will do my best to get this fic wrapped up before the new year's so I ask you
once more, just be patient with me!!
This hasn't been revised for spelling or mistakes, I will get back to it soon!
with the hate of some other man's beliefs

always a well-dressed fraud
who wouldn't spare the rod
never for me
CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE
Hermione woke up with loud voices coming from the other room.
“—I don’t think he’d appreciate people just barging inside his private—”
“Spare me!” A woman's voice replied, “Look at you! You!”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand your tone—” Sirius retorted, slightly insulted.
Hermione shook both boys, who were still fast asleep, “Wake up.” She said, “Someone's
outside.”
“I can understand Remus here, but you?” Hermione now recognised Professor McGonagall’s
voice, “He punched you just last year—”
“He did?” Harry asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
“—I doubt that you would be allowed in here or would even consider bringing them here if
—”
“Yeah,” Theo replied while stretching his arms, accidentally elbowing her, “And Sirius
punched him back later.” He stopped, “Or was it the other way around? I forgot who punched
who first.”
Their door opened and the three of them watched Remus poke his head inside, “Good, you
up. Minerva is outside. Come out when you are ready.”
Theo stood up suddenly, “Remus, I have something to tell you.”
Remus just shut the door in his face. Harry snickered.
“How can you be like that right now?” Hermione asked in exasperation.
Theo shrugged and went after his trousers.
They changed quickly and met with the others outside. Professor McGonagall had managed
to get her way in but still wasn’t happy about the entire thing. She looked like someone who
hadn’t slept a wink last night.
“Harry,” Professor McGonagall started tiredly, “I know what you said yesterday about…” she
trailed off, the pain crossing her expression, “but I need you to tell me what happened, what
you were doing with Albus in the first place and about his…”
“I already told you what happened Professor,” he said, “and about what we were doing… He
took me to a place that he believed would help me understand Voldemort better and the
reason why he is after me but we walked straight into a trap, left by Voldemort. Dumbledore
was weakened by it and we had to leave. He… He didn’t have time to explain it when we
returned.”
If Harry had taken one thing from his Occlumency lessons, it had been his new lying skills.
They all watched him tell the story he, Sirius and Remus had fabricated the night before.
With Dumbledore gone, it was a matter of time before Voldemort took the castle. It was
likely that her father would return but they couldn’t know what would happen to the rest of
the staff and keeping the knowledge of the Horcruxes limited was essential. They only had
one left.
McGonagall sighed and rubbed her cheek and temple. She seemed to have gained ten years in
the past few hours. “Very well. And this?” She asked, motioning to the room they were in,
“Snape has killed the Headmaster and you decide to spend the night at his private quarters?”
“We knew it would be vacated,” Sirius replied with a cheeky grin that McGonagall ignored.
"It was Draco’s mission,” Hermione said in a small voice. “Voldemort wanted him to kill the
headmaster, it was a means to punish Uncle’s failure at the Department of Mysteries last year.
If Draco failed, Voldemort would kill him and Aunt Cissy.” She could see McGonagall’s face
softening at each word, so she made sure to sniff and wobble her lower lip, “Dad knew about
it, I told him.” Hermione said and she didn’t even need to fake the tears with her next words,
“It’s my fault, I said I couldn’t lose them, it’s all my fault, I—” her vision blurred as her voice
got choked up.
“It's not your fault Hermione,” Harry told her, wrapping both arms around her. “Dad
wouldn’t let anything happen to your boyfriend, as insufferable as he is.” He said.
McGonagall choked at ‘Dad' and Hermione wondered if they were going too far too soon,
“You couldn’t know he’d be willing to kill Dumbledore for that.”
The Transfiguration professor cleared her throat, “The Ministry wants to speak with you, but
I managed to get him out of the castle for the time being. We will hold a funeral for Albus in
the following days. You can stay here for the time being…” She looked at Remus and Sirius,
not even questioning Theo’s presence, “All of you.”
“Thank you, Minerva,” Remus replied. “We appreciate it.”
“If you need anything… Well, you know where to find me.”
Sirius waited a beat after she left before shaking his head, “The pair of you know how to play
the orphan card.”
It was clear that Sirius couldn’t care less that Dumbledore was dead. He had said his only
worry was about her involvement in the act. Twelve years in Azkaban would do that to
someone’s consideration.
“Not really orphan if I’ve just claimed dad,” Harry replied. Not very much bothered by the
entire thing as well.
He had told them how unnerving had been to have the lessons with Dumbledore while
knowing everything the headmaster was keeping to himself or how he’d always throw a
comment about sacrifice or mention Lily and James. ‘It's like he never even tried to find a
way for me to survive’ he had told them. Harry knew that Dumbledore’s biggest concern was
with the war and after living years feeling unwanted, the moment he found himself being not
only wanted but loved, and found a family that put his safety and well-being first, he couldn’t
accept anything else.
They left for breakfast together, Sirius and Remus joined the staff at the high table, now
missing two people. Harry sat with his Gryffindor friends while Hermione and Theo joined
their friends. The story had spread like fiendfyre through the night. Everyone knew Draco
Malfoy had brought Death Eaters inside the castle and that Severus Snape had killed the
Headmaster. Hermione was the only one there available for them to stare and whisper about.
Of course, lessons were suspended, and their exams were postponed. A lot of people left
early, parents coming to get their children before the end of the year, especially those whose
families were very vocal against Voldemort. Daphne was upset that Padma had left without
saying goodbye - the twins’ parents came before breakfast. They all watched Seamus
Finnigan have a shouting match in the Entrance Hall with his mother, refusing to leave before
the funeral.
Hermione would have preferred to spend the remaining days with her brother, but Ron and
Ginny had similar ideas and Hermione was not in the mood to listen to their comments about
Draco or Severus, so the Slytherins grouped, but even that didn’t offer the usual comfort
because the truth behind Dumbledore’s death had been shared only with Theo and it was
exhausting, carrying the guilt in silence.
On the morning of the funeral, the Minister of Magic arrived and together with the many
people who had come for the funeral, they left the castle in near silence.
They had all put on their dress robes and their professors were wearing their nicest robes as
well. Hermione couldn’t look at anyone for too long, resorting to keeping her eyes glued on
the ground in front of her. She shouldn’t have been there, it was insulting, to begin with, to
attend the funeral of the person you had killed even if you didn’t like them.
As they headed towards the lake, the warmth of the sun caressed her face almost as a
mockery, the day daring to be nice and warm as though they weren't burying someone who
would never feel the warmth again. Hundreds of chairs had been set out in rows. An aisle ran
down the centre of them: there was a marble table standing at the front, all chairs facing it.
Hermione turned to Theo, desperation written in her eyes, “I can’t be here,” she whispered.
“You can,” he replied, squeezing her hand, “You can, Hermione.”
She spotted Harry sitting in the back row with Ginny and Ron; Remus and Sirius had gone up
to the front with the other Order members. Theo, having also spotted them, walked towards
them. Pansy sat on Harry’s other side, receiving a long look from Ginny. Hermione sat down
next to Pansy, with Theo on her other side and Blaise next to Theo, Daphne brought up the
rear. Hermione, who was still pointedly not looking ahead to where Dumbledore’s body lay,
noticed how Pansy was staring at Harry’s hand. She was itching to hold it.
She took hold of Pansy’s hand and when the raven-haired girl looked up, Hermione showed
that she was also holding Theo’s hand. Theo in turn was holding Blaise’s as well, who
quickly grabbed Daphne’s when he noticed everyone had joined their hands. Hermione
winked and Pansy gave her a thankful smile before reaching for Harry’s hand.
Her brother looked down in surprise and when both he and Ginny turned to Pansy, all the
Slytherins showed they were holding hands. Ginny reached for her brother on her other side,
blissfully unaware of the small ploy.
Pansy leaned against Hermione’s shoulder and Hermione rested her head on top of her
friend’s. “I will miss you,” Hermione whispered.
“I will miss you more.”
They heard music, strange, otherworldly music, and for a moment everyone looked around
for the source of it. In the clear green sunlit water, inches below the surface, a chorus of
merpeople singing in their language, their pallid faces rippling, their purplish hair flowing all
around them. Hermione wished she could find it beautiful, instead, it was only yet something
else she couldn’t bear to look at. Despite not understanding a word of it, the lyrics spoke very
clearly of loss and despair. If Hermione’s heart wasn’t already overflowing with guilt, she’d
resonate with it.
She didn’t regret killing him, not when his death meant the end of years of manipulation and
control of the people she loved the most, but it also meant the change of everything they
knew and she had been the one to cause it. The war was there now, no more waiting for them.
Remus and Sirius told them that very first night after Dumbledore’s fall: ‘You won’t return to
the castle after the summer, with him gone it’s only a matter of time before they take the
ministry and then the school.’
The snake was their new goal—the only remaining Horcrux.
She barely heard the words the little tufty-haired man in plain black robes was saying, there
had been a long speech about Dumbledore’s greatness, she knew, but Hermione could only
stare blankly ahead, not really seeing anything, just thinking about when she would get to see
her dad and boyfriend again, how they were doing now and where they were.
Was Draco safe? And what about Narcissa? Had they managed to convince Voldemort that
Severus had been the one to kill Dumbledore? How had Voldemort reacted to that?
Several people screamed, breaking Hermione from the trance. Pansy jumped a little next to
her and Hermione looked up. Bright, white flames had erupted around Dumbledore’s body
and the table upon which it lay: higher and higher they rose, obscuring the body. White
smoke spiralled into the air and made strange shapes until in its place was a white marble
tomb, encasing Dumbledore’s body and the table on which he had rested. It had been
beautiful and a lone tear escaped her eye at the sight of it.
People began getting to their feet and some hugged each other. Her brother turned to Ginny
and didn’t even bother pulling her aside and away from prying ears. Hermione knew Pansy
was listening intently to the conversation.
“Ginny, listen…” he said very quietly, “I can’t be involved with you any more. We’ve got to
stop seeing each other. We can’t be together.”
Pansy was immobile, looking resolutely over Hermione’s shoulder.
“It’s for some stupid, noble reason, right?”
“It’s been like… like something out of someone else’s life, these last few weeks with you,”
her brother said and Hermione watched the flicker of pain crossing Pansy’s features. “But I
can’t—we can’t—I’ve got things to do alone now.”
“I know,” she said.
“Voldemort uses people his enemies are close to.” He said and Hermione’s chest twisted at
that, almost like feeling it, Harry turned around, finding her right behind him. “I’ve seen him
do it.” He added, looking at her and turning back to Ginny before he continued, “He’s already
used you as bait once, and that was just because you’re my best friend’s sister. Think how
much danger you’ll be in if we keep this up. He’ll know, he’ll find out. He’ll try and get to
me through you.”
“What if I don’t care?” Ginny asked fiercely.
“I care,” Harry replied simply, “Some of the people I love the most are already targets, I
won’t give him another one.”
Pansy was running out of things to pretend to do. Ginny sighed, “I never really gave up on
you,” she said. “Not really. I saw you with other people and—” Hermione saw the fleeting
glance towards Pansy, “I always hoped…I don’t know, that you’d look at me and finally see
me.”
“I did.” He said.
She only smiled at him. “Go save the world. I—You saw me once, yeah? You will do it
again.” Ginny kissed his cheek and turned to leave. Harry didn’t call her, he just watched her
retreating form and kept looking until she disappeared back inside.
“You did well,” Hermione said, squeezing his arm. Harry nodded.
Remus and Sirius had caught up to them, two women Hermione recognised as Nneka Zabini
and Kathleen Greengrass following close behind, Astoria walking hand in hand with her
mother. They knew it was time.
“I don’t know how to say goodbye to everyone,” Harry said, his voice low so they wouldn’t
be overheard.
“Not everyone will sorely miss you,” Pansy said, finally done with pretending. Harry looked
at her, doing the second take he always seemed to do around her. Pansy took a deep breath
and threw her arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. Harry closed his eyes for a
moment and hugged her back, his arms going around her back. She turned her face to the side
to whisper something in his ear that Hermione couldn’t hear and pulled back, “Take care of
my best friend, if something happens to her I will offer you to You-Know-Who myself.” He
nodded seriously. Pansy turned to Hermione, her green eyes filled with tears, “I don’t want
you to go.”
“Pans—”
“I know.” The girl said and they both hugged, the pair squeezing each other hard, “We will be
here, holding the fort. If he comes back… Both of them… I will take care of them for you.”
“Thank you,” Hermione said.
There were more hugs, Hermione cried again with Daphne and then felt like dying as she
hugged Blaise. “Don’t worry mi amore, we will see each other again.”
“You know that I will miss you terribly, don’t you?”
“Of course.” He said, “I wouldn’t allow you to go if I didn’t know you’d be distraught
without me.”
Hermione let out a wet chuckle as she pulled back, “It should be the opposite.” She said with
a small smile.
“You know me, I love being the centre of attention.”
“I love you, Blaise.”

“I love you too.” He replied and kissed both her cheeks, “I will miss you too. Possibly even
more.” He said and walked towards Theo.
“Don't go too far,” Nneka said.
Blaise rolled his eyes, “I know, Ma.”
“We better go before the Ministry officials arrive,” Mrs Greengrass said, “I’ve got word from
Liriope that they have made it back.” Hermione frowned, having never heard that name
before.
Sirius nodded, “Good to know. If you need anything, you know how to contact us.”
“I do,” she replied and turned to Remus, “Thank you again, I won’t ever be able to thank you
enough for what you've done for him.”
“No need.” He said, “I love him as my own.”
She gave him a brief nod and turned to her daughters and Pansy, “Let's go girls.”
“What about the trunks?” Daphne asked her mother.
“The elves will get them for us.”
“Where will I go?” Pansy asked, “I can’t—I don’t know where my parents are.”
“With me, darling.” Mrs Greengrass replied. “It's all set.”
They turned to leave and Hermione watched Blaise and Theo stopping on their way back to
hug the girls one more time. Nneka waited until they had left to make a small noise of
disapproval, “One would think they would take their child with them before disappearing off
the face of the earth,”
Sirius only snorted, “Not with those families, no.” He said. “Pansy is very much a threat to
the Parkinson’s family's neutral stance. While some families are famously ‘Dark' or ‘Light’,
they have been Greys, like the Greengrasses for generations and well, Pansy is not grey is
she?” He asked with a shrug. “Uncle Alphard, Andromeda and I, we got disowned for not
going with the family’s bullshit and this? Well, this is a less dramatic end but ultimately the
same thing.”
Hermione gasped, “Pansy has been left behind because she’s friends with me?”
“Yeah, kiddo. Friendships are nothing but political in the Sacred Twenty-Eight.” Sirius
answered her and turned again to Nneka, “Liriope told me you will have provisions?”
“Yes, I believe there are some already at the Lake, the Nereid will pass them along at the
wedding.”
Hermione blinked. She exchanged glances with Harry, Theo and Blaise. They all seemed as
confused as her.
“Good.” Remus said, patting Theo on the shoulder, “Scrimgeour is walking towards us, I
think it’s better if you leave now.”
Nneka nodded, displeasure still on her face. “Good luck,” she said. “Blaise.”
Blaise squeezed Theo’s hand before pulling away, but Theo had another idea. He held
Blaise’s cheeks with both hands, “Don't do anything stupid 'til I get back.” Theo whispered
before kissing Blaise’s lips in a deep kiss that until now, they had kept private.
“How can I?” Blaise asked with a smirk when they pulled away, “You are taking all the
stupid with you.”
It seemed to dawn on her then, “You are not going with Blaise?” She asked Theo, her eyes
wide and burning with unshed tears.
“And leave you alone with him?” He asked, pointing at Harry, “No chance.” He joked and
Harry rolled his eyes.
Theo didn’t cry when Blaise and his mother left, but there was a pinched expression on his
face that didn’t shake for hours after.
“Listen quick,” Remus said, “The three of you are to stay together and take the train back
tomorrow with the rest of the school, alright?” They all nodded, as he spoke rapidly. “The full
moon is tonight and Sirius and I will be occupied with that. Tomorrow at the platform the
Weasleys will pick you up and then Sirius will bring you home later.”
“Harry!” They heard and Sirius ushered them towards the castle. Rufus Scrimgeour was
limping rapidly towards them around the bank, leaning on his walking stick. “I’ve been
hoping to have a word…”
“Oh, Minister!” Sirius said, coming up between them and linked arms with the minister,
holding him for a bit and allowing them to escape, “I so needed a word or two or plenty with
you.”
“Let's go,” Hermione said and the three of them rushed towards the castle.
***
“What on…” Harry spoke the moment he got off the train, Hermione and Theo coming right
behind him. Ron was somewhere there as well. The sentence died on his tongue, the sight of
his aunt and uncle making him freeze on the spot.
Mr and Mrs Dursley were standing very awkwardly and looking very annoyed to be there at
Platform nine and three-quarters. Kingsley Shacklebolt and the Weasleys were with them as
well.
“Harry, darling,” Mrs Weasley said, “Come here.”
Harry didn’t move. “What are they doing here?” Harry asked, not pleasantly.
“They came to pick you up.” Shacklebolt replied, “You are spending the summer with them.”
“What?” He asked, and Hermione grew tall next to her brother. She could feel Mrs Dursley
watching her. She was her aunt as well. Hermione didn’t bother to look at her. “But—” He
stopped, “Why?”
“Dumbledore believed that the safest place for you to be was at their house.” Shacklebolt
explained, “Now that he’s gone… We think it’s better if we follow his wish. After all, you
only left because Snape took you last summer.”
Hermione felt her blood boiling, “Because she—” Hermione stopped, worked her mouth and
closed it. She tried again, “Remus said we were to go with the Weasleys. That Sirius would
be picking us up there.”
She saw something passing through Molly Weasley's face, but it was quickly gone, “Yes, yes,
of course.” The woman said, “It's just extra protection until they return.” She looked around,
almost like searching for someone.
Hermione didn’t like it. Arthur Weasley looked too uncomfortable and Hermione knew
neither Remus nor Sirius had agreed. They would never.
Harry turned to her, resolution in his green eyes, “It’s okay sis,” he told her, Petunia Dursley
made an ugly sound in her throat.
“We were supposed to stay together.” She retorted, her voice low.
“You still have Theo,” he said and hugged her, “Make hell for me,” he whispered in her ear,
“They want to keep us apart.” Harry pulled back and Hermione nodded.
Oh, she would make hell all right.
Hermione turned to Petunia then and levelled her a look, “Remember. He knows where to
find you.”
Mr. Dursley seemed to have lost his patience, “Are you threatening me?” He asked.
“Okay,” Shacklebolt said, putting a hand out, “It's better if we go now.”
Hermione ignored him and Mr Weasley ushered her away, and Theo took hold of her arm,
going with her. She watched Shacklebolt cross the barrier with the Dursleys and Molly
Weasley cross with Harry, helping him carry his trunk and Hedwig.
“Why is he staying with us?” Ron asked his father, pointing at Theo.
“Come on now Ron,” Arthur Weasley said, “He's Harry’s friend.”
“Step-brother,” Theo added with a smile that looked friendly, but Hermione knew it was
anything but.
Arthur of course didn’t know and smiled back.

On the other side of the platform, Harry and the Dursleys were gone, but Mrs Weasley was
waiting for them. A ministry car was parked and in silence, they climbed into the back seat
and set off.
Molly tried to make conversation, telling her kids about the wedding preparations and
Hermione wondered if Bill and Fleur’s wedding was the one Nneka had talked about, the one
the Nereid would pass the provisions. It was weird being there with these people, she knew
Molly wasn’t her biggest fan - it was reciprocated - and the whole exchange at the platform
had seemed rushed and the adults seemed to be anxious. Were they worried about a death
eater attack? Or was it another reason entirely?
Tonks, Fleur and Bill were there when they arrived, the eldest Weasley didn’t look happy.
“Moody told me what you—”
“Not now Bill,” Molly said quickly, throwing him a sharp look. A warning. “Help us with the
things, will you?” She asked, handing him Ron's school trunk.
Hermione and Theo exchanged glances.
“They won’t accept it.” Bill insisted.
“We had our orders, son,” Arthur said with a placating clap on his son’s shoulder.
“Hermione will be staying with Ginny and Theodore can stay with Ron…” Both boys made a
sound of despair, “Fred and George are arriving soon as well and Merlin knows when Charlie
will be here.”
“Staying?” Hermione asked, her stomach turning, “We won’t be staying. Sirius—”
Molly seemed annoyed at the reminder, “I know what Sirius said,” the woman replied, “But
in the case he gets held up.”
“Gets held up with what?” She asked.
“Order business, this won’t—”
“I'm of age.” Hermione cut her off. “I want to know why are you all acting like we will be
staying here for longer than just a few hours.”
Bill shook his head at his mother and turned to leave, clearly not willing to participate in the
conversation.
“Because,” Molly started, her tone not hiding her displeasure, “Remus is not as young as he
once was. The transformation takes a toll on him and Sirius might be busy taking care of him.
You might have to spend the night.”
That was a load of bullshit and she knew it. Hermione opened her mouth again. Theo was
faster, “Why can’t I stay with Hermione?” He asked. “It would be more comfortable for all of
us.”
Molly gasped, “A boy and a girl! Sharing!”
“I'm gay,” Theo said, as though it was obvious.
Molly spluttered and Ginny snorted, then tried to hide her laughter with a cough. “Never
mind that. You will stay with Ron.” She said, “Ron, show our guest your room.” Ron looked
ready to argue, “Now, Ron.”
“Let's go,” Ginny said to her, pulling Hermione with her, “My room is on the first floor.”
Hermione nodded. She could count on her fingers the number of times she and Ginny had
talked. At least they could be civil to one another, Theo and Ron now were a completely
different story…
Ginny’s room was pink and nothing like Hermione would have expected it to be. There were
flower patterns on the walls and the duvet had fairies print on it.
“I know,” She said after noticing Hermione looking around. “I didn’t have much say in the
decor. Mum really wanted a daughter after six rowdy boys.”
“It's lovely,” Hermione replied, “But it's not you.”
Ginny shrugged, “It gets her out of my hair. And I’m at the castle most of the time.”
Hermione didn’t bother unloading her trunk. She made a point of not to. Ginny noticed it.
“Something is wrong,” Hermione said. “There's something they are not telling us. Harry was
not supposed to be at the Dursleys. I know Sirius would never agree with it.”
“I agree with you,” Ginny replied. “Mum never tells us anything. And she’s acting strange,
but I’ve learned that fighting her won’t get you anywhere. You are smart Hermione, you will
figure it out and get Harry from those people. Now help me with this.” She said, pulling the
second mattress. Hermione helped Ginny put the sheets on it.
Once that was done, Hermione went after Theo and the pair stayed outside for the rest of the
day, just sitting by the steps almost as though willing Sirius to come faster. They didn’t dare
talk about the things on their mind, not when it could put many people in danger, so they only
kept their fingers intertwined and ignored Molly Weasley’s constant checking on them.
When night fell and Sirius had yet to come, Hermione tugged on her bond with Remus,
calling for him. He tugged back, but very faintly and Hermione hated to think he was in pain.
Dinner was a quiet affair because the only one allowed to speak was Molly and about topics
she decided on. Every time Bill opened his mouth, his mother would speak over him and
soon he all but gave up.
“Do you need pyjamas?” Ginny asked when they returned to her room. Hermione shook her
head. If she were to stay there without any explanation whatsoever, she’d make them as
uncomfortable as possible.
Hermione opened her trunk and removed Draco’s Quidditch jersey he had given her last year,
the big MALFOY written on the back and the obviously Slytherin green were enough to
make Ginny turn up her nose before snorting. She removed the tiniest pair of shorts she could
find and put them on.
“You have very nice legs, Hermione,” Ginny commented with a smirk.
“Thank you!” Hermione replied, “Do you think your mother will hate it?”
She snorted again, “She absolutely will.”
“Good.” Hermione said, “I will go after a glass of water. Let’s hope I don’t run into your
mother on my way there.”
Tonks was on the sofa and was the first to spot Hermione at the stairs. The blue-haired
woman had to bite on the inside of her cheeks to control her expression. “Ready for bed?”
She asked in amusement.
“Yes.”
Molly gasped and Hermione completely ignored the woman, getting a glass from the jar on
the table. She knew the name plastered on her back was in full view of them. Good, she
thought. I’m with them. When Hermione turned to her, the matriarch was contorting her
expression and finally settled for, “Do you need something warmer? Ginny can lend you
something of hers.”
Hermione smiled politely, no one was fooled by it. Tonks was having fun. “Thank you, Mrs
Weasley. But it’s a very hot summer night.”
She left and the last thing she heard was the muttered, “A carbon copy of that godmother of
hers. ”
That night, Hermione tossed and turned for hours, it wasn’t the hot summer night causing her
restlessness, but the moon high in the sky, the strange bed and house, Harry gone and Theo
floors above her. It was the lack of news from Remus and Sirius, the unknown between her
and the Malfoys.
“Ginny,” she called at last, “Are you awake?”
“Yes,” the redhead replied, turning around to face Hermione.
“If I went after Theo, would you tell your mother?”
“No, Hermione.”
She hated how the tears threatened to spill, “Thank you.” Hermione said and turned around
before Ginny could see her face.
“Ron's bedroom is on the fourth floor, the only door there. Watch out for the third step on the
second floor, it creaks loudly.”
Hermione quickly grabbed her wand and the broken mirror she used to talk with her brother.
She was dying to speak with him, but she didn’t want Ginny next to her overhearing the
conversation. At least Ron already knew almost everything.
She left the room quietly, making sure to not make any noise as she went. Per Ginny's
warning, she skipped the loud step and got to Ron’s room without being caught. Not wanting
to make unnecessary noises, she didn’t knock on his door, instead opened it very slowly. Both
boys shot up at once. They didn’t look like they were getting much sleep either.
Theo pulled his covers up without a word, inching closer to the wall to make more room for
her. She pretended not to see Ron eyeing her legs as she closed the door and crossed the
room. “I figured you’d show up,” Theo said then, turning to his side to pull her against his
chest.
“I couldn’t sleep.” She said and still ignoring Ron’s heavy look, got Theo’s arm around her
and tangled their legs.
He dropped a kiss on her hair, “Have you spoken with him?”
“No. Should we?”
“Who?” Ron asked, eyebrows furrowed. His tone was a tad judgemental.
“Harry.” Hermione replied curtly, “Let me cast a silencing spell first. Just in case.”
She called her brother through the mirror, making sure to keep her voice low in case the
Dursleys overheard her. Harry replied almost instantly as though he had been waiting for her.
“Hey,” he said, his face barely visible, Hermione guessed he was in the dark like they were.
“How are you, Harry?” She asked. “Are the Dursleys being all right?”
“I’m alright.” He replied. “Shitty to be here though, but they have left me on my own since
we got here. I’ve stayed in my room the entire time and they haven’t bothered me.”
“But have you eaten?”
“Yeah,” he said, “Sirius has sent Kreacher with food.”
Hermione was surprised, “You’ve spoken with him?”
“Yes. He’s fucking livid. They all went behind his and Remus’ backs. From what Sirius told
me, because they were working with Dad and Narcissa behind Dumbledore’s back and both
Narcissa and Dad are in the Secret to Grimmauld Place and Remus’ place, the Order didn’t
trust I’d be safe enough with them.”
“What? Like they’d turn you in?” Hermione scoffed.
“No, like they would take me away. Apparently, Dumbledore told Kingsley and Moody that I
was the war’s hope to kill Voldemort. And well, Sirius and Remus are not interested in the
war depending on me.”
“And what about us?” Theo asked.
“Oh, hi Theo. I didn't see you there.”
“Weasley is here too,” Theo added, “I’m sharing a room with him and Hermione showed up.
She was supposed to be with your ex, though.” He explained, and Hermione elbowed him,
“So, the Order is worried that Sirius is going to whisk you away and leave them to fight the
war, but why are the two of us hostages here?”
Ron scowled, “You are not hostages.”
“I bet they’d let you go easily, Theo” Harry replied with amusement, “but Hermione is
clearly leverage. I don’t think you know, but apparently Narcissa stormed inside Grimmauld
Place when we were at the Department of Mysteries and threatened Dumbledore if he didn’t
send anyone to get you out and then she stormed into St. Mungos again when you were in
there. That one I saw. She even hexed a healer—”
“Narcissa is so cool,” Theo commented.
“And well, Severus Snape is your father,” Harry continued, speaking over Theo’s comment,
“To keep you under the Order’s roof is a very smart way to guarantee they don’t attack the
Order.”
Hermione hated the entire thing. “Can’t Sirius send Kreacher to get us?” She asked, “I mean,
Theo and I are both over age and no one here has legal guardianship over us. They can’t
forbid us to leave and if they try, Theo is right, we are hostages.”
“I don’t know. I think he can. Logically, he knows the two of you are safe there and you don’t
have to worry about getting food or any Dursley getting a wild hand out with you, so he
reached out to me first, but Hermione, Sirius is very, very angry. The last full moon was
really tough. They got caught up with some werewolves from Greyback’s pack. There was a
fight and Sirius is a big dog, but he’s still just a dog compared to a bunch of wolves. Remus is
pretty beaten up from what Sirius told me, that’s why he hasn’t spoken to you. So Sirius is
beside himself trying to help Moony, making sure I’m okay and trying to get you and Theo
home.”
Theo had tensed up behind her at the mention of a hurt Remus and she reached towards her
bond with her godfather.
“Tell Padfoot to not worry about us,” Theo said, his voice firm. “We are fine here. Tell him to
focus on my Dad, and get him back into good shape.” Hermione squeezed his hand.
“I will,” Harry said. “I better go, I will talk to you later. Let me know if anyone from your
corner reaches out.”
Hermione nodded, she knew what he meant. Narcissa or Dad “Goodnight, Harry.”
“Night sis, Theo and goodnight Ron!”
“Night mate.”
Hermione tucked the mirror under Theo’s pillow and with nothing else to say, she turned to
rest her head on Theo’s chest and try to get some sleep.
***
The next few days passed much the same for Theo and Hermione. They’d take their meals in
silence and as soon as they could, they would go outside to escape Molly Weasley. Order
members came and went, Moody always had questions for her, but she either didn’t have his
answers or didn’t want to give him. Tonks was the only one who spoke to Hermione and
Theo without trying to get something out of them.
It took Remus three days of faint tugging back before he spoke through the bond. He was
healing, slowly and painfully as most potions didn’t work on werewolves. But he’d break
into the Burrow himself the moment he could get out of the bed. She relayed the message to
Theo, who took it with a short nod.
They had offered to paint Arthur Weasley’s shed, just to have something to do without Molly
Weasley’s watching eyes. And because painting walls made them think about the break they
spent painting Remus’ third room.
Arthur Weasley was much easier to deal with, he was incessantly curious about muggles and
Hermione soon found that if she answered some of his questions about the functions of the
many objects he had collected along the years - and if she spelled something or other to work
magically like the sandwich toaster - he’d leave them alone for hours.
They were on the second coat of paint when Theo hesitated next to her, “Draco…” he began
cautiously because it always got a reaction out of her to hear his name. She didn’t get to see
his face before he left. “He talked to Blaise and I,” he continued, “he wanted to have at least
one of us with you at all times once he was gone.” He told her and Hermione felt the first
tears fall, “he knew he’d have to leave, but he never wanted to leave you alone. So Blaise and
I talked. We decided that if the war escalated in the summer to a point that you couldn't return
to Hogwarts come September, I’d go with you wherever you went and he’d stay with the
girls. He’s not an open target as I am, he can protect himself and them if needed. And if
Draco returns to Hogwarts, at least he will have the three of them.”
“I'm glad to have you here with me,” Hermione said, “and I’m sorry that it’s costing you
being with him.”
“Don't worry about that,” he replied easily, “It will make our reunion much more bittersweet.
And besides, it wasn’t a hard decision for either of us.”
Hermione shook her head, “Still. I wish it wasn’t necessary.” She said, “I—I keep thinking
about it, about how I wished I had one more second with Draco, just one, so I could look into
his eyes one more time. Instead, I can’t escape this hopeless feeling that comes with not
knowing when I will get another second with him or how many more days I will have to go
through without knowing how he is, or talking to him.” Hermione told him, “You can tell me
it wasn’t a hard decision, because it wasn’t a hard decision to stick to Harry’s side, to see this
war through instead of disappearing with Draco, but it doesn’t mean that it was a decision
that didn’t hurt or that it doesn’t keep hurting every day you and I are away from those we
love.”
She twirled the ring she had looped around a chain on her neck. Finding it on her pillow
when she returned to the dormitory to pack her things had caused her to break down in tears.
Draco had left it behind, something borrowed, he had written. I love you and we will see each
other again. Keep it safe for me until you can return it.
“Would you have done it?” Theo asked, “Disappeared with him, I mean. They did it once, we
know it. Between Severus, Narcissa and Remus, I have no doubts that they could easily take
all of us and disappear. After all, that’s why we are currently stuck at the Burrow. Because the
Order also knows it.”
“I think I would,” Hermione said. “I had my reckoning with Dumbledore. I believe I would
be able to pack my things and leave if I had all of them with me. Dad, Harry, the Malfoys,
Remus and Sirius, you. And I think some of us would be fine starting new somewhere else
but not all. Harry is at the Dursleys, so I doubt he’s getting any information, he hasn’t got any
idea of how much they are doing on his name, and how much this war has been funnelled
down to him and Voldemort. He wouldn’t be able to live knowing people are dying and
killing in his name. Sirius and Dad too, still haven’t gotten their reckoning.”
“You are more like her than I'd expected it.” They heard it from behind them and both
jumped at the sound, pulling out their wands in matching movements.
The woman had a stricken resemblance with Bellatrix Lestrange, but there was a kindness in
her expression that made it impossible to confuse the woman in front of them with Narcissa’s
oldest sister. Hermione knew it could only be the other one. “You are Aunt Cissy’s sister.”
The woman let out a small laugh, “People usually connect me with the other one when they
meet me for the first time.” She said, “But you are the one person who’d see differently.”
“What are you doing here?” Hermione asked, neither she nor Theo had lowered their wands,
but Andromeda didn’t seem bothered by it.
“It has come to Alastor’s attention that you only speak without hissing with my Dora, so he’s
decided to send another member of the family to get answers out of you,” Andromeda
explained, her tone carried that she found the whole thing ridiculous. “My husband and my
daughter were in Hufflepuff and that usually makes them think I was one as well, but your
uniform was once mine. I know better.”
“I have nothing to tell Moody.” Hermione said, “Tonks doesn’t want anything from me.”
“Because she doesn’t know how to get it,” Andromeda chuckled and then said simply, “Tell
me how much control you have in your bond with my sister and I will tell you what I know
about Draco Malfoy’s future.”
Hermione’s breath caught, and the ring on her neck suddenly heavy. “Even if you really knew
something about Draco, why would I tell you anything?”
“Because if you tell me you can easily talk with Cissa through the bond, I will tell Moody the
opposite. If you haven’t noticed, the Order is short of a spy now and I won’t let them use you
to endanger my sister any more than she already is.”
The order, Andromeda had said. Not ‘we’. “And why do you think Moody can use me in any
shape or form?”
“Because he too knows what’s now expected of Draco Malfoy.”
“Do you think I will fall for it?” Hermione asked, even though her heart was twisting and her
chest hurt. What was expected of Draco now? was the only question running through her
mind.
“What I think is what I said,” Andromeda replied, “You are more like her than I’d expected
it. I meant Narcissa. We all know how much she loves her reflection and she raised you as
her mirror. Narcissa is capable of pointing her own wand at Voldemort for her son and I know
you are as well.”
“It's you,” Theo said suddenly, a hint of awe in his voice. “Narcissa is Liriope and you are the
Nereid.” He clarified, “You are with them.”
Andromeda looked impressed, “I was told you were bright, but I didn’t expect you would be
this quick.”
It dawned on Hermione then. The names. Narcissa wasn’t named after a constellation. She
was named after Narcissus. “Narcissus was born from a nymph called Liriope,” Hermione
said. “The Nereids were sea nymphs.”
“Your name also came from Greek Mythology, you would know,” Andromeda said with a
nod. “It was a game of ours, when we were young, to find ourselves in the stories. It’s fitting,
isn’t it? That my end is similar to my Greek counterpart?”
Hermione ignored the question, “What is going to happen to Draco?”
“You haven’t answered my question.”
“My answer doesn’t matter. You already know what you are going to tell Moody.” Hermione
said matter of factly.
“Voldemort’s biggest flaw is how ignorant of basic human nature he is. And it’s a flaw he
shared with Dumbledore and now shares with the Order’s leader. All of them, are unable to
see that their loyal followers have families of their own. Voldemort doesn’t see that by
playing with Draco, he’s moving Cissa’s and Lucius’ pieces against him. And Moody, he
doesn’t see that you and I have more in common than he and I. That you are family to my
sister, my nephew and my cousin. That I would never agree with your forced summer
arrangements.” Andromeda said.
She didn’t care about any of that right then, “What is going to happen to Draco?” Hermione
asked again.
“Draco is set to replace his father in the ranks.” Andromeda finally said, “Voldemort was
impressed with Draco's performance in the mission he gave him in the hopes the boy would
die.”
Hermione’s body froze. More. That was what they expected of Draco now. They would
always want more of him. And now she was not next to him.
When Andromeda left, it was Theo who caught Hermione’s trembling form before it hit the
ground. She clung and sobbed onto his chest, shaking breaths and hot, fat tears wetting her
cheeks and his shirt.
“We are going to make it, Granger.” He told her, strong arms around her, “Draco is going to
be fine.”
“I can’t—” She tried, “I can’t stay here doing nothing—He—Theo, he—”
“I know, Hermione, I know.”
“I want Voldemort gone. I want this war over, I—”
“Me too,” he said and then he pulled her back, his blue eyes boring into hers. “Listen to me,
here is where we are now, this is what we have, so we do something with what has been
handed to us. We behave, we play their game and more importantly, we get ready.”
Hermione nodded, “We do that.” Composing herself, drying her eyes and getting back on her
two feet, she said, “Dad has given me many potions, poisons and antidotes, a lot of them are
against snake bites. Almost like he worried I’d come face-to-face against one.”
“Nagini is the last Horcrux,” Theo said with a nod.
A new rush of determination shot through her, “So we train to kill it.”
“They have the daggers embedded in Basilisk venom, that’s how they destroyed the others.
This is the only weapon we have.”
“Do you know how to throw knives?” Hermione asked.
Theo smirked, “You don’t think Molly Weasley would mind us borrowing some cutlery, do
you?”
“We can always ask later.”
They finished painting the shed with something they hadn’t been feeling for weeks: hope.
The next day started much the same as the previous one, but this time Hermione offered to
wash the dishes and Theo volunteered to dry them. Mrs Weasley was suspicious of their
sudden desire to help around, so she stuck around for the first few plates, but she didn’t stay
long because Theo and Hermione made sure to only talk about Ancient Runes.
The warded area of the Burrow cut off most of the trees, so they had to search around the
shed for something they could use to throw their pocketed kitchen knives. Shacklebolt and
Bill Weasley were on the porch when Hermione and Theo left the shed carrying an old
wooden door - no doubt it had once belonged to Ron, with the amount of Chudley Canons
stickers glued to it - but neither of them said a word.
Hermione fixed the door up with a spell and dusted her hands off her shorts, ready to go.
“From where do we start?” She asked.
“A few metres away from it probably, I don’t trust our odds up close to it.”
And that’s what they did, one after the other, they aimed at the door. The first few throws
were abysmal, Hermione’s aim was completely off and Theo was only slightly better, having
played Beater, but his throws were too weak and his knives all bounced off the door.
“What on Merlin’s name are they doing!” Came Molly Weasley’s screeching voice, “Are
those my kitchen knives?”
Hermione turned to look and found that everyone present had gathered on the porch, Theo
kept on throwing.
“Mum…” Bill Weasley began, “Let them—”
“I knew they were planning something when they offered to do the dishes! I KNEW IT!” She
said, “That’s what I keep saying! You can never trust a Snake!”
“Their aim is atrocious Molly,” Shacklebolt said absentmindedly, “I wouldn’t provoke them
just now, we don’t know what they might hit.”
“Is that my door?” Ron asked with his head tilted.
Hermione aimed for one of the stickers in the middle, but she missed it by a large shot. She
huffed and stomped to retrieve it.
“Here,” Bill called and walked towards them, “Let me help you.”
“Bill!” Molly shouted, “Come back here this instant! Don’t enable them!”
He had his back to his mother, so she didn’t see his eye roll, but he called back, “They’ve
been here a week and have yet to hear a word you say, Mother.” He said, “Just be glad that
their method is much better than Sirius’.”
Shacklebolt snorted and Molly gave him a withering look.
“What's Sirius’ method?” Theo asked as he handed a knife to Bill.
“Harassing Dad, Moody and Kings at the Ministry. He tried with me at Gringotts but the
Goblins kicked him out.” He explained in amusement, “Here, they are too light, you need to
get something sturdier and more balanced,” Bill transfigured the knives into something more
similar to an actual throwing knife, “The best grip for you to start is the hammer grip,” He
showed them how to do it, and they copied him, wrapping all four fingers around the handle
just like you do with a hammer. “Now, your stance is all wrong. You need to stand with your
dominant foot slightly ahead of the other, and it’s important to keep your body relaxed and
balanced. Come here, Theo.”
Theo moved forward and Bill stood slightly behind Theo. “Can I?” Bill asked with his hands
hovering on top of Theo’s shoulders. Hermione chuckled at the sudden blush on Theo’s
cheeks when he nodded. Bill placed his hands and brought Theo’s shoulder back, “You need
to draw your throwing arm back, holding the knife in a horizontal position beside your
throwing shoulder.” Theo nodded and Bill slid his hand from Theo’s shoulder to his elbow to
mimic the movement Theo was supposed to make, “You extend your arm forward and then
release the knife smoothly, don’t flick your wrist too much. Like this, watch.”
They did. And they watched transfixed as the knife flew across the air and found the door’s
exact midpoint. The handle rattled once the blade had stuck.
“Shit, that was cool.” Theo breathed out.
Bill, who hadn't missed Theo’s rosy cheeks, winked, “They teach us all sorts of things during
Curse Breaker training.”
Theo didn’t miss a beat, “I can talk to Blaise I’m sure he’d be down to a third.”
Bill threw his head back and laughed loudly, his long ginger hair flying beautifully. He was
very handsome. “Thanks for the invitation, but I’m past this sort of adventure.” He replied
with an easy smile and patted Theo’s back, “Now go on, try it yourself.”
He did and then it was Hermione’s turn to try. Bill stayed out with them for a few hours,
enough that both Ron and Ginny came out to want to try as well, only to Molly screech once
more and set her foot down, sending the youngest Weasleys away mumbling complaints
under their breaths.
“You are the nicest Weasley, though,” Theo commented when the sun was setting and they
had finished for the day.
“Nah, Charlie is the coolest.” He replied, “You should see him with a whip, it’s amazing.”
“Don't put ideas in Theo’s head,” Hermione said from the ground, she was exhausted. “He
doesn’t have his thoughts on the right place.”
The boys chuckled and Bill added, “He will be here soon though, if it doesn’t send Mum into
cardiac arrest, he can show you guys. But let’s continue tomorrow, once you get the hang of
it, we should get some moving targets.”
“Thank you, Bill.” They both said.
“Don't worry. It was shitty of them to steal the two of you and I meant what I said, they are
lucky the only thing you’ve given them is the silent treatment.” He said, “And besides, I
know you two didn’t decide to throw knives merely to annoy Mum, so if you believe this is a
good skill to have, I can only help you learn it.”
With Molly Weasley’s frown of disapproval and scowls in their general direction, they added
knife throwing into their days at the Burrow, with Bill Weasley helping them train for hours.
Their training quickly escalated after Tonks yelled ‘Set them running!’ one day when she was
over and very suddenly, they had a cardio routine.
It was the middle of July when the news came and Hermione swore the ground beneath her
feet shook when she read the Daily Prophet headline:
THE SECOND MASS BREAKOUT IN LESS THAN TWO YEARS: DEATH EATERS
AT LARGE ONCE MORE
Lucius Malfoy’s picture was right in the middle, next to Adeodatus Nott’s.
Chapter End Notes
The title and the quote at the beginning belong to Foreigner's God by Hozier
the snippet between Theo and Blaise at the beginning belongs to Capitan America: The
first Avenger. it just fits them so well. my babies
“Don't do anything stupid 'til I get back.”

“How can I? You are taking all the stupid with you.”
a minute from home, but I feel so far from it
Chapter Notes
Well, would you look a that!!! We are back to weekly updates!! This is a very big
chapter, so hang tight!
Once more, thank you all for the comments and the support you've been giving this fic.
It means the world to me.
TW: Blood, Torture!!! Voldemort greeting his returned Death Eaters
it's all washing over me,

I'm angry again
the things that I lost here,
the people I knew
they got me surrounded for a mile or two
Chapter Seventy
The Death Eaters around them were laughing, and jeering, and Bellatrix was even singing
when they all Apparated in front of the Manor’s gates. Draco was leading the group and his
posture was nothing less than lordesque. Severus couldn’t get anything from their bond, not
even an ounce of fear. He could ask Draco through the bond to be sure he was okay, but
Severus decided to show some trust to his godson.
Draco placed his palm against the iron bars on the wrought-iron gate and they all felt the
magic tremble and the wards allowing them entry. Severus had walked this path countless
times over the years and had seen the yew hedges through all four seasons but tonight they
felt mightier and oppressing, making the leering Death Eaters fall silent and into line as
Draco led them through the driveway to his Ancestral Home. Even the hairs on the back of
Severus’ neck stood and he knew there were only three people who would never react to the
sheer size and power of the handsome manor house in front of them, growing out of the
darkness with each step they took. Some lights were lit, glinting in the diamond-paned
windows on both floors. Severus knew somewhere to his right side he’d find the fountain, but
under the faint moonlit, it was hidden in the darkness.
They heard a rustle to their left and Bellatrix fired, thankfully missing the target.
“Quit it, Aunt.” Draco hissed, a voice Severus had never heard from the boy. “Are you afraid
of peacocks now?” He sneered.
Bellatrix cooed, no one mistook the sound for affection, “My nephew thinks he’s all grown
up.” Severus wanted to trip her, just because. But he appeased to silence when Draco barked
a reply.
"And you think you are in a position to open your mouth.” He said, turning to face his aunt
and making all of them stop in their tracks. Not for a second, Severus had thought Draco to
have the nerve to get that close to Bellatrix’s face, “Not even a handful of Order Members
and a bunch of students against ten Death Eaters and what happened?” Draco asked her,
“Gibbon is dead. Yaxley, Selwyn and Travers were taken to Azkaban. What? Are you
addicted to failing our Lord?”
Alecto whistled lowly and Severus shared the feeling. He was definitely impressed.
“Listen here, boy—”
“No,” Draco said curtly and resumed his walk. Severus followed him and Bellatrix scowled
when the others moved, jostling her.
The huge main doors opened inward with Draco’s first step on the short stairs, the house
responding to its young Lord. It was a very small show of power because while Bellatrix was
Voldemort’s first hand and his favourite, their Lord had not chosen the Lestrange Estate for
residence. They were at the Malfoy Manor and the Manor belonged to Draco.
They crossed the large hallway and Severus, having caught through the reflection of the
mirror, had the first glimpse of true emotion passing through Draco’s face: displeasure and
disgust at seeing Fenrir Greyback entering his house.
The hallway was dimly lit and Severus knew it didn’t come from Narcissa but from the other
unwelcome guest at their home. Someone’s feet snagged on the magnificent carpet that
covered most of the stone walls and Draco scowled, the sound was repeated across the many
pale-faced portraits on the walls, generations of Malfoys displeased with the new arrivals.
They halted at a heavy wooden door that led into the next room, where they all knew who
waited for them. A heartbeat, that was how long Draco hesitated before he turned the bronze
handle. When they all had filtered inside, Bellatrix was the first one to fall to her knees in
front of their Lord.
Severus was quick to follow suit, as did the others, but not before seeing the new throne the
Dark lord had made himself in the middle of the ballroom and how Narcissa Malfoy stood
unmoving a little to the side, with Nagini circling her. Not too close, but there, a strike away.
“I vaguely remember sending eight of my men alongside the werewolf for tonight’s event,”
Voldemort said, his voice curious and dangerous at the same time, “What happened?”
“My Lord—” Bellatrix began, her voice no longer carrying the amusement from before. It
was all fear.
“I didn’t ask you, Bella.” He hissed as he stood. Bellatrix and Rowle flinched at the sudden
movement, “I was asking young Malfoy here, who was leading the mission tonight.”
“Dumbledore is dead.” Draco began with and the flinch was barely visible when Voldemort
reached for the boy’s face to make him look up, make him look into those red eyes. Draco
continued, “Severus killed him after I disarmed and incapacitated him.”
Severus knew Voldemort would be looking inside Draco’s mind for the events and he knew
this was Draco’s biggest test. To fail, would mean death to not only himself but to Severus,
Narcissa and Lucius as soon as Voldemort got his hands on the man. He watched, from the
corner of his eyes as Draco let one of the biggest Legillimens in the world inside his mind. "I
waited for him to return in the Astronomy Tower,” Draco said, as Severus knew he would
because the vocal recollection would bring the memories forth without Voldemort needing
himself to look for them. “While the others fought some of Dumbledore’s loyal students and
the staff. Some didn’t listen to me.” Draco said with a scowl and by Bellatrix’s whimper, he
knew who hadn’t. “Instead of going straight to the Astronomy Tower to cast the Dark Mark,
they wanted to stop by the Great Hall, to leave a souvenir. Because of this, our presence in
the castle was announced earlier than it should’ve and the Order was called.” Severus was
proud. Draco had come a long way since his first meeting with Voldemort. He could taste the
boy’s fear because they both knew Voldemort appreciated that, but even that emotion Draco
was controlling exceptionally well. “Severus and I were leaving the Astronomy Tower, after
sending Dumbledore over the battlements when Aunt Bella and the others came to see,”
another scowl, “There was nothing to be seen up there and she brought three with her.”
“My Lord—” Bellatrix tried again, her voice nothing but a pathetic whimper. “I—”
Voldemort cut her off, gripping her cheeks forcefully and keeping her mouth open by
pressing his thumb and index finger on her cheeks.
“And this is why, my dear Bella,” Voldemort said, “I don’t give you missions to lead.” She
tried to gurgle a response, but Voldemort wasn’t listening, she whined as he pressed his
fingers harder into her skin, Severus could see his nails drawing blood. “All these months,
you’ve been telling me I shouldn’t have given our little Draco the honour to serve me, that he
didn’t deserve it… but little Draco was the only one who got the job done.”
“He-eccch didnaccch kill Dumbledore,” Bellatrix gasped, Voldemort finally letting go

enough for the woman to speak.
“No,” Voldemort agreed, “Because Severus asked me to do it himself. And because I'm a
merciful Lord to those who obey me, I granted him his wish.”
Bellatrix spluttered and she dropped lower on the floor against Voldemort’s feet, a mumble of
‘I didn’t know' and 'Forgive me, my Lord’. Voldemort grabbed her through her hair to make
her look at him, her knees gave a little with the force and she whimpered in pain. “Tell me
Bella, where are the others?”
“The Order captured Yaxley, Selwyn and Travers-aargh,” Voldemort had thrown his arm to
the side, toppling Bellatrix to the side, “Gibbon is dead.” She mumbled. Rowle, on the other
side, had begun shaking.
Voldemort walked towards the man, who was now having trouble staying in a kneeling
position with how much his knees were trembling.
“My Lord…”
“Crucio!”
The man screamed as his body fell to the ground, twisting and arching right by Lord
Voldemort’s feet.
“Are you working for the Order, Thorfinn?” Voldemort asked with another twist of his wand.
“No, my Lord,” the man cried.
“Then tell me, why did your spell strike one of my men?”
“I aimed at the Wolf—”
“Do you need some lessons Thorfinn? Did the time in Azkaban take your aim?”
“No, my Lord.”
“Draco is still in school, he can help you. Should we begin with Wingardium Leviosa?”
“I can teach him, my Lord,” Draco said.
That sentence sounded to Severus’ ears just like Harry’s ‘There's no need to call me sir’ from
last year had sounded. So much cheek.
“See,” Voldemort said, cutting off the spell and allowing Rowle to breathe. Severus knew he
wouldn’t be getting up anytime soon. “This is what I need.”
He returned to his throne and they all knew better by now, no one moved, because no one had
been allowed to yet.
Bellatrix had her hands and knees on the floor, some blood dripping from her cheeks and
running down her chin. Rowle was twitching and whimpering and the rest of them were still
on their knees.
Narcissa was the only one standing but she wasn’t by any means in a better position than
them. It was only when Voldemort said something in Parseltongue, calling Nagini back to
him that Narcissa let out a single shiver. Severus could swear he felt the house breathing in
relief as well.
Voldemort sighed, as though the entire ordeal had exhausted him. “And what about the boy
and the girl?” He asked.
He felt the bond then, sharp and deep.
“Potter was nowhere to be found,” Draco said, as though the mere mention of Hermione
hadn’t brought him pain. “He didn’t fight with his friends.”
“That’s not very like him,” Voldemort said like he knew Harry. “Severus, do you know
anything?”
“No, my Lord.” Severus replied, “My information was that both Dumbledore and the boy had
left the castle. But only Dumbledore was at the Astronomy Tower.”
Voldemort hummed and caressed Nagini’s head, “Of course, Dumbledore wouldn’t have let
his precious boy near my mark,” he said. “And the girl?”
“She wasn’t in the fight,” Draco replied.
“My Lord,” Bellatrix spoke, dragging the r. “I saw the little bastard girl.”
“Oh?” He asked and with a quick flick of his wrist sent Nagini towards Bellatrix. Severus
wished the snake would bite Bellatrix’s tongue.
If Narcissa’s reaction was any indication, she wouldn’t mind.
“When we were heading to the Great Hall,” Bellatrix explained and recoiled when Nagini
hissed at her. “I saw her. With those traitors Slytherins.”
“So you also let her go?” Voldemort asked, Nagini hissed again. Severus wanted to know
when they went from ‘Severus can take care of her’ to ‘you let her go’.
“She didn’t stay to fight. A coward. She ran away the moment she spotted us. Must have
hidden herself beneath the skirts of the Order,” the unspoken like her father was clear.
“No,” Voldemort shook his head because apparently he was a specialist in both of Severus’
children. “Our Draco sent the message loud and clear, didn’t he?"
Our Draco. It was gone in a flash, but he saw it in Narcissa’s face, the sheer panic.
Voldemort used to call Regulus that.
Our Regulus.
“I did, my Lord,” Draco replied. “She knows her place now.” What a formidable liar had his
godson become. Not even hours prior he had been holding Hermione’s hand when she cast
the Killing Curse at the Headmaster.
Merlin. His daughter had cast an Unforgivable and he had left her behind with nothing but
sentiment.
“Good,” Voldemort said, “It is still too early for another family reunion. The Malfoys will
suffice for now.”
Both Malfoys reacted at that, “My Lord?” Draco asked uncertainly. Severus knew it was all
theatrics, he knew that Draco was playing out his emotion at the possible mention of Lucius
because this is what Voldemort expected of him.
Voldemort chuckled, delighted with their torment, “Narcissa has been a great host in Lucius’
absence, and you have proven that the Malfoys can still be great servants to me.” He
explained, “Lucius will return home soon.”
“Thank you, my Lord.”
“You are very merciful, My Lord,” Narcissa said.
It wasn’t needed to say that Voldemort wouldn’t be getting Lucius out of Azkaban out of the
goodness of his heart, but because he now had double the number of followers inside the
prison compared to the ones not imprisoned.
“Go now,” He said, waving them away. They all bowed and got to their feet. Narcissa didn’t
rush to her son, but her intent was clear and Draco offered his arm to his mother in an excuse
to let her catch up to him. The moment they had all turned, Voldemort called again, “Now
Bella and Thorfinn, the two of you will stay.”
Neither of them looked back as they left, leaving the sounds of Bellatrix and Rowle
screaming in pain behind.
Narcissa, not wasting a second, asked, “Do you need me to show you to the door?” The polite
smile and the reverent posture were perfect.
“No need, Mrs Malfoy.” Alecto replied, “We know the way out.”
She smiled one more time, “I wouldn’t want any of you to get lost.”
“Believe me,” Amycus continued with a pointed look towards the door they had just closed
behind them, Rowle had begun screaming again, “I have no intention of spending a second
longer here tonight.”
“Have a good night then,” She said and stood her ground, watching as the twins and
Greyback walked towards the hallway and out of the door. “Draco,” she said once they were
outside.
“It is done, Mother,” Draco replied, putting his wand away.
Severus knew Draco had just locked the Manor. Well, locked as much as he could. In the
chance that Greyback or the Carrows lingered in the gardens, they wouldn’t be able to enter
the Manor without a Malfoy present, unless the call came from Voldemort himself.
“Good,” She said, “Tea is due, I believe.”
Narcissa walked them towards her morning room and even there seemed to have lost a bit of
life, despite looking the same as ever. Colder. And sad. But maybe those were just Narcissa’s
feelings.
There was only one thing different. A portrait of Narcissa as a girl sat on top of the fireplace.
“Did you like the painting?” She asked, catching Severus looking.
“You are younger than when I first met you.”
“Yes,” she said. “I had another, just like it. I might have misplaced it. Or maybe my runaway
sister stole it from me, she always envied my good looks as a kid.” She said as she poured
them tea and handed the cups to both Severus and Draco.
Why had Severus ever doubted Draco would be a great liar when he had his mother who lied
through her teeth with the same easiness as one breathes?
“Is that so?” He asked intrigued. “In any case, when did you notice the pair's absence?”
“Around two or three months ago,” Narcissa replied as she sipped her tea.
“I hope the news hasn’t been too upsetting,” he said, and truly, what a wonder of a woman.
Just when Severus had lost his place in the Order, Narcissa had gone and decided that it was
time to reconnect with Andromeda.
He knew Narcissa would never admit to it and would deny it if asked directly, but reaching
out to Andromeda was Narcissa finally taking a stand on the war. She already was the one
who could send information to the other side easily, with the connection she had with
Hermione. Narcissa didn’t need a portrait on the other side to know how Hermione was,
something that Severus had yet to figure out how to do.
“Not too much, no. A bit of paranoia in the beginning, but now is all settled.”
“Good to know.”
Narcissa gave him a small smile and reached for Draco, holding his hand on her lap. “And
you?” She asked, “Big night, tonight.”
“I'm okay, Mother. I did what I needed to do.”
She reached for Draco’s face, running a loving finger around Draco’s ear, tucking his hear
behind it. Severus saw them, the bracelet on her wrist, a very similar one Draco had gifted
Hermione so they could communicate.
“That's a lovely piece you have, Cissy,” he commented and Narcissa’s eyes twinkled.
“Thank you, Severus, it was a gift from Kathleen. Apparently, it is the new fashion in Paris,
to have matching bracelets with your friends.” Narcissa explained, “Mine is gold of course,
but Kathleen prefers silver, but other than that they are the same. It makes me feel
connected.”
Draco was smirking at his teacup, “It’s a lovely gift Mother. I’m happy that you are
connected to your friends. I know how much you miss them now that we can’t have our
parties.”
“Don't worry my son, now that school is over and the summer is ahead of us, I have you to
keep me company.”
“Of course,” Draco replied.
At least Severus could rest assured that the one family who could speak for hours in riddles
and never stop talking while saying absolutely nothing at the same time was the one
Voldemort chose to take up residence.
“I better be going,” he said as he stood up. He needed to find a way to contact his daughter, to
contact Remus and just overall survive now that Dumbledore was gone. “It has been a long
night. Thank you for the tea.”
“Of course,” Narcissa replied, standing as well. “Do you need to wash your hands? Just so in
case they are not clean.”
Severus let the farce fall for a moment and the sorrow inside reflected on his face, “My hands
are clean,” he said. “I have nothing on them. Draco’s too. As clean as mine.”
“Oh,” Narcissa said and her eyes grew wide as she sat back down. The teacup and the plate
trembling slightly in her hands. She looked at Draco, who had reached for his mother’s
hands, placing the china on the table. “So…”
A whisper, “She did it, Mother.”
A sob, “My poor darling.”
Severus looked away because he knew what Narcissa was doing just then, the moment the
woman took her hand to her heart.
***
Unfortunately, Dumbledore’s death was only the beginning of the summer.
Having so few of his Inner Circle out of Azkaban, Voldemort sent Goyle and the Carrows
after every lowlife they could find down in Knockturn Alley. They weren’t marked or
brought to the Manor, but they were paid to spread the word of the Dark Lord and any
information they could bring that pleased Voldemort was also rewarded. For once, Thadeus
Goyle seemed to be earning his keep. That man had sat in his comfortable position at the
Ministry for years and had a nose for knowing which employees of that fine establishment
could be bought. In a matter of days, Voldemort had infiltrated the Ministry so deeply that
Severus guessed only the Order members and muggle-born wizards and witches were clean.
Severus had taken the approach that every ear was Voldemort’s ears.
On the first official day of the summer holidays, he learned from Narcissa, who in exchange
had learned from Andromeda, that Hermione had been taken to the Burrow. With Theodore
Nott tagging along.
And that, well, that Severus was willing to pay to see. His daughter didn’t like Ron Weasley
on most days, she abhorred everything Molly Weasley did every day. No doubt Hermione
was having a grand time.
Honestly, Severus pitied them a little.

But just a little, because they had taken his daughter against her wishes to provoke him.
Suffice it to say, he was provoked.
And to make matters worse, Harry had been sent to his Aunt and Uncle. He should have
guessed it, that by claiming Dumbledore’s death, the Order would snatch the boy from
Remus and Sirius in a blink of an eye. After all, the whole skirmish at the Department of
Mysteries had revealed just how much Remus and later on Sirius, had worked together with
him and Narcissa.
Voldemort learned about the two whereabouts a few days after Severus. One of Voldemort’s
men in the Ministry had overheard Arthur Weasley talking to a colleague. A simple ‘We have
a fuller house this summer, Harry’s sister is staying with us for the time being’ and ‘Oh, not
Harry. He stays with his muggle family during the summer’. Such a perfect conversation that
anyone with half a brain would notice it only served the purpose of being overheard.
A brief meeting followed the discovery. One that only Severus, Amycus and Draco had
attended.
“What do you know about their stay?” Voldemort had asked him.
“The information came from Arthur Weasley, so the girl must be at the Burrow, the name
they have given to their hovel.” Severus said, “I’ve been there once for an Order meeting, in
terms of resistance, a quick fire would bring the place to the ground.” Amycus snorted at that
and Severus continued, “However, I believe that since it became their main headquarters we
will only be able to enter it once we have the Ministry. There must be countless wards and
spells protecting the place.”
Voldemort hummed, “We still have a matter to attend before that,” He said. “And the boy?”
“The same as always. The house is untouchable until the boy turns seventeen.”
“So they will move the boy before that,” Voldemort concluded, “There's no need to ward two
places extensively if they can keep the two together right under the Order’s nose.”
“I agree, my Lord.”
“And what about the werewolf Remus Lupin and the Black Traitor? What do we know about
them?”
“The werewolf was hurt in the last full moon,” Amycus told them, “Greyback reported that
he found him and they fought before Lupin fled.”
“I believed Greyback was the strongest of these beasts out there, why isn’t Remus Lupin, a
lone wolf, dead?”
“He's not a lone wolf,” Amycus explained, his voice not as confident as it was in the
beginning. It didn’t matter to Voldemort that the messenger had nothing to do with the
message, if he was displeased, the price would be Amycus’ to bear. “Lupin is an alpha to his
pack. Greyback said there was a giant dog with him who Greyback couldn’t… I don’t know,
bark at him into submission.”
“Smart.” Voldemort commented, “Most of the werewolves were turned by Greyback himself.
Greyback wouldn’t have trouble getting his… litter… back in a fight. Let’s hope Lupin
doesn’t stop by the kennel before the next moon or else Greyback might find himself having
trouble fighting puppies.”
They all chuckled because they all knew it had been an attempted joke. After all their Lord
had found a flare for comedy since his return.
But Severus couldn’t find the amusement, because puppies was exactly what could be joining
Remus. If his daughter or Theodore got wind of Remus's latest adventure under the
moonlight, Severus knew it would be a matter of time before either or both suggested exactly
that. He had seen Hermione’s patronus - the artic wolf - and he was well aware that it was a
high possibility that her Animagi form could be the same, especially because Remus already
considered the girl his pack. And well, Theodore could get a big animal just out of spite.
“Any news on Black?” Voldemort asked.
“Just one,” Draco replied, “He was seen at the Ministry arguing with Shacklebolt about the
siblings’ location. As it seems, he wasn’t consulted about that.”
“It is a heavy name your family carries Draco,” Voldemort said, slightly amused, “A traitor to
our cause but still not trusted by the Order. Well, just like so many of my men, he has already
served time for me. Wouldn’t it be interesting to have him on our side?”
“Indeed, my Lord.” Draco replied and because he was getting braver each new day, added,
“However, I don’t think my Aunt would appreciate that very much.”
Voldemort chuckled and Severus felt his core chilling at the sound. With their Lord, it was
better to have his distaste than his affections. Be valuable, not likeable , he sent through the
bond. “Indeed,” Voldemort agreed, “My Bella is very proud of her family, but she seems to
want to be the only family member at my feet.”
“The Malfoy family is here to serve you, My Lord.” Draco replied and was quick to add,
“Black hasn’t returned to his Ancestral Home and hasn’t been seen as part of the patrol on
Potter. I believe that if he still hasn’t claimed the house, since I'm the last Black descendent,
Grimmauld Place could answer to me.”
“Good.” Voldemort said, “It was their last headquarters before Dumbledore’s untimely death.
As of now, Severus is the only one who can enter there. Once we get our friends back, the
Manor may become too crowded. I don't want to bother our hosts too much.”
“Never, my Lord.”
“See to that Draco,” Voldemort said. “Maybe take your mother with you, she’s a Black by
birth.”
“And Aunt Bella?” Draco asked, “She could help as well.”
“No,” Voldemort said. “I prefer to keep my Bella next to me.” The boy nodded and just like
that, Draco had gotten gold. “Severus, I want you to keep an eye on Potter. I want to know
who’s protecting the boy, which ones are Aurors and which ones are Order Members.”
Severus nodded the relief flooding inside his body. “And Amycus, you and your sister will
see to a visit to Azkaban. It is time I give them their liberty. Send Bella to me when you
leave.”
They all nodded and waited for the dismissal to leave the room.
“A good day, huh?” Amycus asked when they were on the other side. “I thought we would be
busier, with so many of us incapacitated at the moment. But apparently Bella is pulling all the
hard work.”
“Indeed,” Severus agreed. Between the hours she kept Voldemort occupied and the hours she
needed to recover, they were mostly free of her these days.
Amycus talked nonsensically the entire way and thankfully Narcissa and Bellatrix were
together in the Drawing Room alongside Alecto.
“The Dark Lord has called for you, Bellatrix,” Severus said.
The woman was quick on her feet, “What did he want with you?” She asked him, her eyes
wide between him and Draco.
“If our Lord sees it fit to tell you, you will know,” Severus replied. “Go. You don’t want to
keep him waiting.”
She left and Amycus called his sister as well, “We got the fun job to do Sister.” He said,
“Let's go.”
Severus didn’t waste a second after they were alone to turn to Draco, “The goal is to please
him not to pleasure him.” He hissed.
Draco scowled and Narcissa got worried, “What is it?”
“Nothing, Mother. Uncle worries too much. I’m doing exactly what I am supposed to.”
“Don't do your job too well, Draco,” Severus said. “He will break Bellatrix one day and you
don’t want to be his second favourite.”
“Draco…” Narcissa said, her voice low.
“It's not going to happen, Mother.” Draco assured her and then turned to him, “I will be
reliable and continue to get the kind of jobs I am getting to get us through the summer.
September will come.”
“It is too early to know whether you will return to Hogwarts Draco, we didn’t leave in good
graces.”
"More than a reason to do our jobs.” Draco hissed, “If we are back in the castle he can’t send
us after her.”
“Quit this,” Narcissa said, “And tell me what happened.”
They did and then it was Narcissa’s turn to scold Draco. But the boy didn’t feel penitent, not
when he had gotten them their biggest opportunity so far.
The three of them devised a plan quickly. They could allow themselves a handful of days to
“break" the wards at Grimmauld before Voldemort called for their incompetence. Meanwhile,
the pair who already had free entry to the Black House would use that time to share as much
information as they could. Severus would send whatever he had that could help Remus heal
faster through Narcissa and hopefully they’d find a way to keep communication without
needing Andromeda as the middle person. There was only so much they could tell her.
“The Carrows were sent to free the others from Azkaban,” Severus commented after, “The
Dark Lord was serious about getting Lucius and the others out.”
Narcissa took a deep breath, “I don’t even know what to expect.” She said. “The Dark Lord is
not forgiving. I fear Azkaban was the lesser punishment.”
“If Azkaban didn’t break him, he’s still the best hope for controlling the Ministry, if not
overtaking. There’s not a soul working there that Lucius hasn’t got a secret on.” Severus said
and he hated the look on Narcissa’s face.
He hated that there was nothing he could do for his oldest friend, that she would never tell
him how much she was suffering without her husband and with Voldemort under her roof.
They only had one Horcrux left and it was the one taunting her all the goddamned time.
“Cissa,” he called, holding her hand and a lone tear slid her pale cheek. “It will be over soon.
Remember. This is the fallout.”
She nodded and squeezed his hand, “She used an Unforgivable, Severus. I can’t stop thinking
about it. After everything we did, we still couldn’t protect them.”
“You did it, Mother.” Draco said, either with Occlumency or deep resolve, his face didn’t
betray his tone, “We are together and we are strong. She’s safe and she’s brave. Mother, she is
so brave. I can only strive to be as brave as she is. Father will be home soon and our network
is deep. This nightmare will end.” And then Draco turned to Severus with a wicked smirk, “it
has to. She only needs ‘something blue’ now.”
Severus bristled, but Draco got the reaction he intended from his mother because Narcissa let
out a wet chuckle.
“Keep dreaming, Draco. Keep dreaming.” Severus said.
“I have the perfect thing,” Narcissa said with a wet smile.
***
The Carrow twins had found a sudden burst of efficiency overnight, for the next morning’s
Daily Prophet had the escape as their headline. The problem with the twins was that they
would get the job done and sometimes impeccably, depending on the point of view, which
more often than not meant no survivors and maximum use of sadism.
The Malfoy’s ballroom was crowded once more and he knew that Narcissa would have
preferred to never throw a ball again than to have Voldemort’s entire entourage in varying
degrees of lucidity filling the place.
Voldemort sat on his throne, Nagini propped around the back of the chair and falling onto his
shoulders and alongside his arms. Man and snake, both at once. Amycus and Alecto stood the
closest to the Dark Lord, a position of honour after a successful mission. Severus, Bellatrix,
Draco and Thadeus were on his other side. Narcissa was a bit to the back, having received the
honour to attend despite not being a marked follower. Peter Pettigrew and Thorfinn Rowle
were at the far back, standing farther away from their lord than Narcissa.
Severus watched the newly released for any telling signs. Yaxley, Selwyn and Travers were
only afraid, their brief stay had been too short for the horrors of the prison to settle in their
bones, he was certain that there would be only anticipation for the retribution that would
come for their failure. Everyone else, Severus could see at a glance who was broken, who
still had some fight in them and who would be dangerously volatile. Voldemort seemed to be
making his observations as well.
Nicodemus Crabbe and Seoras Avery could barely stand, their bodies shook and Severus
knew they were one Cruciatus away from never getting up again. He hoped that Severin had
taken his mother and hidden well because Voldemort would ask about the Avery son, just like
he knew Vincent Crabbe would be called.
Rockwood, Jugson, Nott, Macnair and Rodolphus Lestrange were sending all kinds of
warning bells, they were wild-eyed and erratic, almost as though they were unable to focus
on one thing. They would be unpredictable in missions and it only made them the more
dangerous. Severus wanted to be very far away when Rodolphus realised that his wife was
wantonly serving their Lord without care that everyone else knew and heard them.
Rockwood still had his characteristic bored expression on his face, as though another year in
Azkaban had been nothing for someone who had already spent fifteen inside. Macnair's
normal taste for pain and violence had landed him the job as an executioner in the ministry,
now certainly it had escalated in the worst possible ways. Jugson had been impatient before
and now his entire body language seemed unhinged. The most worrisome, however, was
Adeodatus Nott, who had kept his eyes fixed on the Dark Lord, his body locked in an
unsettling manner and his lips moved in a constant mutter that Severus couldn’t decipher
from where he stood. He dreaded to know what was the man’s current obsession.
The third group in Severus’ opinion was an interesting one. The years had done something
terrible to Mulciber, but just like Rockwood, another year in Azkaban hadn’t shaken him. He
was smirking and greeted Severus with a nod like they were still school friends. His eyes
looked alert - which was a big plus in the current group - and just as before, enigmatic.
Rabastan was almost the complete opposite of his brother, Severus would consider ‘being
married to Bellatrix’ a highly debilitating life event that had afflicted Rodolphus and which
Rabastan had escaped. He stood tall and his hands were locked behind his back, it would
have been an imposing posture if it weren't for the prison uniform.
And finally, Lucius. At a glance, he could be easily dismissed as being as broken as Crabbe
and Avery, with his scared eyes and thin frame, his unkempt hair and grown beard had
become grey instead of the luscious blond he shared with his son. But Severus' eyes had
narrowed on the man the moment the doors opened so he had noticed how quickly Lucius
had spotted his wife and son, how quickly the grey in his eyes sharpened and then faded into
forced blurriness. The man was, of course, performing once more.
Voldemort scoffed, clearly not impressed with his men. He stood and walked down the dais,
his bare feet silent on the marble floor. Lucius was so aware of his surroundings that his eyes
even zeroed in on the bare feet of their Lord and his lips twitched in a grimace.
“Welcome,” he greeted them, “Your Lord has granted your freedom. To some of you… Once
more.” Severus watched them bow, and they all trembled. Like Pavlov’s dogs, they were all
trained that after their Lord’s mercy came pain. “Travers, Yaxley, Selwyn,” Voldemort called,
“Step forward.” Selwyn almost tripped in his haste to obey. “Remind me, the night
Dumbledore died—” a lot of eyes looked up at that, clearly the Carrows hadn’t bothered to
update them on the news, “—who were you supposed to obey?”
“The Malfoy boy, My Lord,” Yaxley replied.
“Yes, indeed. The Malfoy boy,” Voldemort replied, “But tell me, why has Draco told me that
you all followed Bella instead?”
Silence. Lucius took the opportunity to look at his son once more and then at Severus. Their
eyes met and Lucius let him in for a single memory.
“Get it together. You have to be the husband and father I know you are,” Hermione snarled
at him, her brown eyes on fire. She was a force to be reckoned with. “Stop wallowing in
misery and find a way to make the right choice for them when you get the chance.” He
watched as one stubborn tear after another left her eyes. Lucius doubted she realised she was
crying. Slowly, he uncurled one hand from the bar and reached for her. She didn’t flinch -
what a wonder of a girl - and he rested his palm on her cheek, “You are an exquisite thing,
Hermione.”
Severus turned away. So that was what happened when his daughter went to Azkaban after
Lucius Malfoy.
“Because…” Yaxley hesitated.
“The boy didn’t know what he was doing,” Travers said with a snarl. And it was the wrong
thing to say.
“Draco,” Voldemort called, “Come here my boy and show him how I deal with
insubordination.”
Draco walked towards Travers, his wand ready in his hand. He didn’t shake when he raised
his arm and his face was impassive when he called, “Crucio!" Travers fell screaming and his
screams unsettled the others, who grew agitated.
“Enough, Draco.” Voldemort put a hand out and Draco stopped the spell. Travers still
twitched. “Alecto, Amycus,” Voldemort called next and Draco returned to his place, being
replaced by the twins. “You were the ones to break them out of Azkaban for me. You can
have the other two.”
Alecto set Selwyn on fire before casting the Cruciatus curse. The man’s screams filled the
room, muffling even Yaxley’s. And they all stood there, watching as the man twisted in
flames.
“Stop,” Voldemort said in amusement. Alecto then drenched Sewlyn to put down the flames,
leaving the man a mess of burns, shivers and tears. Amycus looked upset to have been
upstaged by his sister. “Now, I have some old matter to attend.”
Lucius Malfoy knew it was coming and Severus knew he was ready. Once Severus saw his
daughter again, he’d let her know that the man had gotten it together.
“Dolohov, Mulciber, Jugson, Nott and Lestranges. A step.” They all obeyed. Voldemort
looked behind him, red eyes flashing and waved them to step closer, “I will let you choose. I
don’t have the time to punish all of them myself.” He said and walked back towards the dais
and climbed on his throne. Neither Pettigrew nor Rowle had been given the honour.
Bellatrix was the first to pick her choice, going straight towards her husband. Severus knew
exactly who he was going to choose, he just needed to not seem too eager. Draco walked
towards Nott and Severus wondered if his godson would take pleasure in making his best
friend’s father pay. Goyle chose Jugson and Amycus went after Mulciber, only then Severus
walked towards Dolohov. Alecto got the remaining Lestrange brother.
Dolohov smiled, all yellow teeth and terrible, “Did I get that daughter of yours?” He asked.
Make him pay, Uncle. Draco sent through the bond. And yes, Draco would take pleasure in
hurting Adeodatus, just like he would with Antonin.
“Not even that,” Severus replied, before making the man in front of him scream.
It was a cacophony of pain: backs arching and nails dragging through the marble, without
finding a grip, legs spammed and Rodolphus had turned 180 degrees on the floor under his
wife’s wand, blood now dripped onto the floor and Mulciber’s knees slipped, making him fall
face first against someone else’s blood.
They all held the spell as long as Voldemort wanted them to. It was a reign of terror and hate,
to make them compliant under the threat of pain and suffering but it also kept the Death
Eaters from joining against him. No one would work together long enough if they all hated
one another.
“Enough,” Voldemort called. The screams became whimpers. “Who's left?” Voldemort asked,
as though the remaining Death Eaters trembling on their feet weren’t enough clue. “Macnair,
Avery, Rockwood and Crabbe. A step.”
The Death Eaters who were called looked at the lone figure of Lucius Malfoy, standing with
hunched shoulders and glassed eyes. His turn was coming.
“You can rest now, Alecto.”
“Of course, My Lord.” She replied and returned to her position next to the throne.
Severus caught Lucius’ eyes once more and he shared another memory.
“What do we have here?” He heard Avery’s voice from the end of the corridor. “Oh Lucius,
Macnair did say you had a soft spot for the girl.” He got Hermione behind him in a swift
move, Avery laughed but Lucius would be damned if that man got close to Hermione. The
other two girls had thankfully disappeared from view. He only had so many hands. “When
you said ‘not the sister’ I knew it.”
“You should be looking for Potter and the prophecy.”
“So should you.” Avery retorted.
“Just dealing with this first,” Lucius replied easily.
“Yeah? From here it looks like you are shielding her from me.” Avery said and pointed his
wand, “Step aside. If you are too weak to do it, I’m not. The Dark Lord wants her gone. It
will be my pleasure.” Lucius didn’t move, “Ava—”
“STUPEFY!” Lucius and Hermione cast at the same time and they watched Avery fall.
He turned to her again, “You need to go now.” He told her holding her shoulders, fucking
girl, “Find your brother and get the hell out of here, Hermione. Take your friends with you.”
Hermione extended her hand to her friends, the girls scrambled to their feet and made sure to
pass far from him. She turned uncertain eyes to him, “Will you have my back?”
His heart twisted, “Of course.” He said.
Severus stepped in front of Avery. Lucius had given him a suggestion. And because Macnair
shouldn’t be making comments about Hermione at all, he sent to Draco, Go to Macnair.
Crabbe was the first to fall under Bellatrix’s wand, Severus was sure the man’s throat would
rip apart from his screams. And because Amycus couldn’t stand to fall behind his sister, he
added a flair before casting the Cruciatus. Severus only focused on the pain that his anger and
own hate could inflict on Seoras Avery.
“Thank you,” Voldemort said and they turned to find their lord standing. Nagini moved,
going to circle Lucius while Voldemort made his way towards his men. “Pathetic. Sobbing
and whimpering. None of you can bear the weight of your mistakes. Stand now, all of you.”
The man scrambled, Rodolphus fell once and Bellatrix scorned her husband. Avery tried to
hold onto Crabbe to stand and was thrown aside, toppling on the floor in front of Severus.
With difficulty and after a humiliating amount of time, they were all on their feet. Broken
bodies and broken minds. Voldemort stopped in front of Lucius and grabbed the man’s face,
much similar to how he had handled Bellatrix that first night.
Narcissa couldn’t hold the small sound of pain at the sight of her husband. Voldemort
scowled, “You’ve made a fool of yourself in front of your family, Lucius.” He said, “Look
around,” Voldemort forced Lucius to look, “Because of you I lost eleven men in one night.
Do you think you deserve another chance?”
Make the right choice for them when you get the chance.
“Yes, my Lord.” Lucius replied, “I will serve you better now. I will always serve you, my
Lord.”
“Yes, yes, yes, but before… Crucio!”
And Lucius fell. Hands and knees on the floor of his own home. The man’s shoulders shook
and his long hair hid his face. Narcissa had closed her eyes and her breathing was coming in
long intakes of air. But Lucius wasn’t screaming, he growled in pain and muttered under his
breath, but he didn’t give Voldemort the satisfaction of hearing his screams.
“Look at that,” Voldemort said, pushing Lucius to the side with his feet. Lucius fell to his
back, his hair sprawled around his head like a broken halo. “Azkaban gave you a backbone.”
He commented, “Don’t disappoint me again, Lucius.”
Voldemort, calling Nagini to his side, left the ballroom. Narcissa and Draco walked towards
Lucius and Severus, who was the closest, helped the man to his feet.
All around them, the Death Eaters recomposed themselves.
“Let's go,” Narcissa said in a small voice. “A shower and a change of clothes.”
Lucius held Narcissa’s hand and reached for Draco’s shoulder, “Draco…” his voice was a
whisper.
“You heard mother, let’s go,” Draco replied but squeezed his father’s hand on his shoulder.
“Severus, could you help me with my father?”
“Of course."
The four of them walked silently towards the Malfoys’ wing of the manor. The portraits
stared at them as they passed, they were also quiet and some refused to look at the former
head of the manor.
Severus had never been on this side of the Manor and he hated that Narcissa had lost yet
another corner of privacy in her home, but they knew this may be their only chance for an
extended period of respite.
They helped Lucius to the settee and Narcissa called for the elves to prepare Lucius’ bath and
separate new clothes. Narcissa was barking orders to the handful of elves in the room when
he called for her, “My love.” She turned. “I just need…” Lucius stopped, exhausted, “I just
need you. Close. Please, my love.”
Severus turned to allow them some privacy, but he heard the sound of Narcissa’s broken sobs
and the smatter of kisses she planted on her husband’s face. “We are alright, we’ve been
alright.” She promised him.
“I'm sorry,” Lucius said, “I'm sorry.” He repeated. “Draco?”
“I'm here, father,” Draco replied.
“Do you forgive me, son?” Lucius asked. “Do you give me a second chance?"
Severus felt the bond. The pain, the anger, the grief. Lucius’ mistake had caused so much hurt
during the past year.
“I do.” The boy answered. Finally, he was a boy again. Scared and bruised. Draco allowed
himself to be tugged by his parents, who both involved him in their arms.
“I promised her,” Lucius said, “I promised her I wouldn’t throw away a second chance with
you.”
Severus turned then, he watched the family that despite his attempts at denial and refusal to
call Narcissa and Lucius what they’ve always been to him, were indeed his friends and his
family. They were the people he trusted the most, the ones who had and would protect his
daughter. “It's good to have you back, old friend.” He said.
Lucius chuckled, “It took you long enough,” the man replied and offered him a nod, “Thank
you, I know you took care of them.”
“As you did with her that night.”
“Well,” Lucius took a deep breath and ignored the slight tremors on his arms and shoulders.
No one commented how he didn’t try to get back on his feet. “Thank Merlin I can get rid of
this terrible beard now.” He said, “And the smell. By Salazar, not the Dementors or sharing a
wall with Rodolphus, no. The smell was the worst.” Lucius took the cup and plate Narcissa
handed him, trying to keep the aristocratic pose even when he was probably starving, “What
did I miss? Besides the horrendous renovations in my ballroom?”
***
Theo didn’t take the news well. His face paled and every muscle of his body tensed as he
watched the moving picture of Adeodatus Nott on the front page. Pushing the plates away,
Theo stormed from the kitchen and walked out of the house.
“Theo!” Hermione called, rushing after him.

He was pacing back and forth in the Burrow’s garden, muttering and taking his hands to his
hair, pulling on his strands before taking his hands back to his face. “No, no, no.” his voice
quivered. She watched him transform, the hurricane forming inside of him and engulfing
him. Every movement of his body, was now abrupt and jerky as the emotions shot through
him. Anger, sadness, fear.
“Theo,” she called again, this time quieter, trying to touch him to stop his pacing.
His fists clenched tightly on his hair, and she reached for his hands before he gave himself
bald spots. Theo’s entire body shook, his emotions and magic smouldering beneath the
surface. “I'm sick of him,” Theo said, his voice cracking with pain, “I'm sick of the hold he
has on me. This—” his body swayed with the weight of his emotions and Hermione struggled
to hold him, “This bone-deep fear I have of him. I hate it. I hate him.” Theo said, words
tumbling out of his lips, ricocheting with frustration and desperation. “He will come after me
and he will come after you and Blaise and Dad because that’s what he does, he takes
everything, he kills everything I love.”
“He won’t Theo.” Hermione said, holding his cheeks in her hands, “He won’t touch you, he
won’t touch any of us.”
Theo was shaking his head, Hermione doubted he could hear a word she said. “I want him
gone,” he said, eyes glassed and distant. “They should— should have left him there. To die.
To…To… No. I want to do it—I will take it—My wand—” His sentences were disjointed
and punctuated by gasps. She fought her tears at the sight of him, at the way his body shook
in a desperate attempt to fight the crescendo of despair. Hermione remembered how Blaise
told her about Theo’s reaction to seeing Adeodatus at the World Cup, how he had to fight to
get him away. She knew he was one moment away from breaking away from her. “He should
be rotting in Azkaban. He—” Theo stopped and amid the storm raging inside of him, she saw
the flicker of determination emerging, the rage and hatred mingling together, “I will get him
first.”
Theo pulled away from her and fired at the wards, the spell rebounded and Hermione had to
step aside.
“Stop that, boy!” Moody barked and came limping with his cane towards them.
Hermione looked between Theo who was firing out in rage, trying to break through the wards
that kept them inside to the the Order members coming at him. They all had their wands out
and Hermione knew they would cast first and ask later. Because it was Theo Nott, a
Slytherin, the son of Voldemort’s oldest follower.
“I. Am. Going. To. Kill. Him.” Theo hissed through each slash of his wand. They all flew
back in different directions. One had just taken out the fence around the shed.
“Drop that wand boy or we will make you do it,” Moody called again.
“No,” Hermione said, putting herself in the middle. “Get away from him.”
“Hermione, he is a danger to everyone around him,” Shacklebolt said.

“I will be a danger to everyone around if you and Moody don’t quit pointing your wands at
him.”
“He is volatile.” Moody said, “Merlin knows the spells he knows.”
“He's a Hogwarts student Alastor, we know the spells he knows,” Shacklebolt replied with a
roll of his eyes.
But Moody took that as a distraction and sent something flying at Theo’s back. Hermione
was quicker and her shield blocked it.
“Barty Crouch Jr made a perfect you.” She scowled, “he too was into hexing behind people’s
backs.”
Moody was eyeing her shield with that terrible eye of his, her wand arm was trembling, but
not with effort, with trying to control her shield, who seemed to want to engulf her and Theo.
“We don’t want to hurt either of you,” Shacklebolt said, “But he needs to calm down before
he hurts himself or anyone else.”
“Get Remus here,” Hermione said. “Get him here right now.”
Moody groaned. “We can’t—”
“You are not listening to me,” Hermione hissed, “Get Remus here right now or I swear to
Merlin I will explode this place to leave with Theo.” And to drive the point home, she let go
of control just a little so her shield would expand. They stepped back because the edges of
her shield got closer to them. It singed the grass. Well, that was new. “Dumbledore was
curious about how I protected Harry when I was two. And that was accidental magic. You
don’t want to see what I can do with control now.”
“Tell him to meet me at Xenophilius’ house right now,” Shacklebolt said, his eyes never
leaving her.
Hermione nodded. Remus, she sent, calling him in desperation, Go to Xenophilius’ house
now. Shacklebolt will let you in the Burrow
What happened?
Theo
I’m Apparating now.
“Go,” Hermione said.
Once Shacklebolt left through the wards, Hermione turned back to Theo, who was getting
exhausted with magical exertion. She pulled her shield back, leaving it only around her and
Theo. Hermione didn’t know how long it would take before Remus appeared and she was
scared that Theo might get hurt with all the spells he was casting. “Theo,” she called again
and placed a hand on his back, “Please. Listen to me.”
“I need to get out.” He said, “He will go after Blaise, he will—”
“THEO!” Remus’ voice thundered around them and Theo turned at once.
“Dad,” Theo gasped. His brilliant blue eyes were glassy with tears.
He dropped his wand and ran towards Remus, who engulfed him in a hug. Hermione picked
it up before Moody decided to have it himself.
“He will come for me,” Theo said against Remus’ chest. He was the tallest boy in their group
of friends but he was now making himself smaller just so he could fit under Remus’ arms.
“No.” Remus denied and kissed Theo’s hair, “You are my kid now and I won’t let him come
close to you.”
“He will try to go after you when he finds out—”
“I don’t care. He can try Theo, but Adeodatus’ run of terror over you has ended. Look at me,”
Remus said, lifting Theo’s face and holding it in his palms, “Remember, he’s just a Boggart
and you have control over it. And besides, he’s just an old man, not a monster. I am.”
Hermione shook her head, “You are not a monster.”
Remus smiled at her and motioned her to join the hug. She found a space for herself next to
Theo and squeezed Remus’ shirt. Home. Their bond sang.
“My XXXXX Creature classification says otherwise,” Remus replied and kissed the top of
her head.
“And he still got a mean right hook,” Shacklebolt commented with a huff and Hermione and
Theo looked up to see the Auror sporting a bruise on his cheek.
Theo grinned, “Did you punch him?”
“Of course I did, he stole my pack from me.” Remus pulled back but kept an arm thrown
around Theo’s shoulders and a hand firmly grasped in Hermione’s. “Let's get inside, huh?
You look exhausted."
They returned to the house where the Weasleys were all together in the kitchen. Moody
always looked annoyed but he seemed to be even more now. Remus ignored him. He greeted
Bill with a nod and “How have you been? The moon didn’t cause you any trouble?”
“No,” Bill shook his head, “Just like you said. I appreciate raw meat a bit more. Oh! And a
weird urge to howl at the moon when it was full up there.”
Remus chuckled, “Good to know.”
“My room is on the first floor, you guys can talk there,” Bill offered and showed them inside.
“Sorry 'bout the mess. It’s the wedding stuff.”
“Don't worry. You should see the mess Sirius makes,” Remus commented. “Thank you, Bill.”
Bill left them alone and Remus cast the customary silencing charms to give them a bit of
privacy. This was what annoyed Hermione about the Burrow - not even the forced stay - but
the lack of privacy anywhere in the house. There were always too many people everywhere.
Remus got them to sit on Bill’s sofa - which Hermione guessed was used as a second bed for
the times the oldest brother had to share his room with Charlie - and pulled the desk chair
close to the sofa. “How are the two of you holding up?”
Theo scowled, his recent outburst was enough of an answer.
“They don’t trust us,” Hermione said with a huff. “Molly and Moody, that is. We mostly try
to avoid all of them. Ginny and Ron are fine, they are sticking to themselves and Bill has
been great, he taught us how to throw knives.”
“Knives?”
“That’s what we have to kill Nagini, isn’t it? Better to learn how to handle one.”
Remus nodded in seriousness, “That's smart. Are you any good?”
“We are now,” Hermione said, “Theo's still better at long throws, but Bill said I can always
find all the right places from up close.”
“You practised hand-to-hand combat?” He asked, slightly impressed. They nodded. “Under
Molly Weasley’s roof?”
“Oh, Moony, she hated every second of it.” Hermione laughed.
“I bet she did,” He chuckled. Remus tapped their knees, “I’m sorry I couldn’t come earlier.
We’ve tried and I had some problems during the moon…”
“It's all right,” Theo said quickly, “You are all good now, right?”
Remus nodded, “A few new scars, but nothing that I’m not used to already. But I’m slower to
heal now, which sucks.”
“Do you know if Greyback went after you on purpose or if it were a coincidence that you met
him?”
“I don’t know. But with Voldemort going after so many Dark Creatures, it gets harder to find
an open area without bumping into something that might be willing to take a bite.” Remus
explained, “But let’s talk about something more important than that. You saw the news, he
now has all his men back.”
“What is going to happen now?” Hermione asked.
“He has infiltrated the Ministry, the next step is to overtake it. We believe he still hasn’t
gotten any wizard or witch of influence to his side, but we can never be sure, some of the
Death Eaters are very talented with the Imperius Curse. And he just got some of those back.”
“So the next worst thing to happen is the fall of the ministry and someone under the Imperius
replacing the current minister?” Hermione asked.
“Yes.” Remus nodded, “And that’s the most important thing the two of you need to listen to
now. The moment the Ministry falls, we have to be ready to flee. The moment he takes
control of the ministry no place will be safe. Not the Burrow and not our home. The Auror
office has worked with the wards here and I’m a registered creature, they know the wards
around my house, and they will be able to dismantle all of them. When that happens we will
need to hide.”
“But where?” Hermione asked.
“That's the tricky part, Sirius and I are going over the possibilities as of now. Our best chance
is to always be together - the five of us - because then either Sirius or I can apparate with you
to a safe place both of us know. But before that, I need you to have a backpack, something
ready to grab and flee. Hermione’s charmed bag is the perfect choice because it’s small
enough that she can always carry it with her. I need you to have everything important ready.
Clothes, potions, first aid kits, food, books, the lot.”
“I went camping a lot with my parents, I can make us a bag.” She said, making the mental list
in her head.
“Good. Shacklebolt is confident that when the ministry falls, we can get something like a
five-minute warning and that’s it. That’s why the bag is important.”
They nodded. “And what about Harry?” Theo asked.
“We are planning to move him soon. The entire mission is still in development but it’s going
to happen before his birthday. That’s when we have intel that the Death Eaters expect him to
be moved.”
“Andromeda has been passing information to Aunt Cissy, right?”
“Back and forth, yeah. You two were quick on that by the way, I was impressed.” He
commented and they grinned, “Narcissa sent her sister a portrait of herself, she has a copy at
the manor. The Narcissa in the picture travels between the two paintings with the information
and also travels between all the paintings in the Manor.”
“Smart.” Hermione said with a grin, “She can hear almost everything.” She paused, “Do
you… Does she… you know, do you know anything about Dad and Draco?”
“Just that they are alright.” Remus replied, “They were not punished about the night of
Dumbledore’s death and they all believe the same things as what has been printed in the
Prophet. Severus killed the headmaster, double agent all this time blah blah blah.” He told
them and took hold of her hand again, “I also have that Draco is doing well. He’s performing.
He’s not at immediate risk.”
Hermione nodded, “Thank you.”
“Bill's wedding is next week, so Harry will be here before that because he’s expected to
attend.” Remus told them, “Keep your heads down in the meantime, now that I can enter, I
will be here more often and will drag Sirius with me.”
“Okay.”
Remus turned to Theo, “How are you feeling now?”
“Fine… I kind of lost it.”
“It's normal. I promised you three years ago that you would be safe with me and I am keeping
it.”
"It's not me I’m worried the most about.”
“I know. And we all have each other’s back. Sirius can be a rabid dog when he wants to. You
should've seen him with Greyback, he’d bite Adeodatus’ ass in a blink.” He said and tried to
get a smile out of Theo. “Once Harry’s here, we are not letting any of you out of our sights. I
promise you.”
“But what if Voldemort takes the ministry and you are not here?” Hermione asked.
“We doubt it’s going to happen before the end of the month, but—” He raised a hand when
she opened her mouth again, “The first place on our list is the cave where Sirius hid when he
was hiding in Hogsmeade. You know where it is. You grab Theo and go. Okay?” Hermione
nodded.
“I will get the bags ready.”
“Now come here, I missed you two so much,” He said, bringing them both back to his arms.
“I missed you too Dad,” Theo mumbled.
Hermione’s chest tightened. She too, missed her dad and Merlin knew when she’d see him
again. The only silver lining she had was that her muggle parents at least were safe away
from Voldemort.
She found her bond with Narcissa inside of her, I miss you, Aunt Cissy.
Instantly, I miss you too, my darling.
How’s uncle?
Better now that he knows you’ve asked about him.
Tell Draco that I love him and I miss him.
I will.
Chapter End Notes
For those who have missed Lucius, he's back!!
The title and the quote at the beginning belong to The View Between Villages by Noah
Kahan
Please let me know what you think! And as always, you can find me on Twitter it's
moonyhoax
handle the seasons of my life
Chapter Notes
Hello!! Thank you for the lovely comments on the previous chapter!
I missed the update on Friday, but not for long! I hope you enjoy this one! we are now
on the last stretch of the fic.
Thank you for following this for another year! I wish you all a wonderful end of the year
holidays!!
but time makes you bolder

even children get older
and I'm getting older too
Chapter Seventy-One
Severus was perched on the tree outside of the boy’s window. And of course, Harry Potter
slept with his window open because Harry Potter didn’t have an ounce of self-preservation.
The sun would be rising soon and Severus had already noted curious movement around the
house. He recognised Diddle and Podmore during the night and now in the early morning he
saw a wizard very poorly disguised as a muggle - he had gotten the decade wrong by thirty
years - pretending to cut the grass - he was holding the thing wrong - so Severus wasn’t all
that confident regarding the quality of Harry’s security.
Harry was the first one in the house to wake up. Severus watched the boy slowly sit up on his
bed with his eyes still closed. Severus guessed Harry kept them closed because it wouldn’t
make much difference having them open without his glasses. The boy scratched his chest,
yawned and then rubbed his eyes sleepily. Emotions were different in the Animagus form,
especially since his form was of a very small animal, but the sight of the boy waking up with
the sun, without an alarm after sleeping on only his boxers tugged on his heart. This person—
child, not even seventeen, was Voldemort’s biggest enemy. A boy who made his bed as soon
as he woke up. A boy who ggot ready for the day and sat back on his bed and just waited…
Tunney was up next, but Harry simply ignored his aunt moving around the house, he
remained seated, with his head now resting against the wall by the bed, his glasses on his
face. Her husband woke when the smell of breakfast had even reached Severus’ nose. Tunney
went to her son’s bedroom to wake him up in a way that one does to a four-year-old. Still,
Harry remained unmoved. The three of them had breakfast together at around what Severus
guessed was past eight in the morning because Severus could hear Lorraine Kelly on GMTV
from the living room’s TV.
There were no signs of restlessness in Harry’s body, he seemed fine with his predicament,
used to even. Suddenly it became clear how and why Harry had shown such an easiness to
meditate and clear his mind when they started practicing Occlumency.
After what felt like forever, Tunney opened the boy’s room which had been locked with a key
she held. Severus almost felt like appearing in front of the woman’s face once more to berate
her again. She sniffed around, her hard eyes no doubt trying to find something in the boy’s
room to nag at him. But he had been meticulous, the room was almost sterile. She placed a
plate with clearly the remains of breakfast and without a word, left. This time she didn’t lock
the door.
Harry got up to grab his plate and with a scoff and an eye roll, walked towards his owl. He
dropped the sausage and the pieces of bread inside her cage and put the plate to the side.
Severus wanted to wrangle the boy, the food was looking bad and burnt, but he had to eat and
— “Kreacher,” Harry called.
The Black family elf popped into the room with a plate and a glass of juice in hand. Severus
scoffed internally. Of course.
“What is this terrible thing today?” The elf asked, his voice showing his displeasure. “Every
day that woman serves Harry Potter with shit. Not even Kreacher gives Sirius Black shit like
this, no.”
Harry chuckled, "Cheers, Kreacher.”
“Here Harry Potter, I cooked what Honoured Master Regulus said he wished he could eat.
Kreacher made it especially in the way Master Regulus likes.”
"Thank you, Kreacher,” the boy replied, already digging in hungrily. Severus guessed that at
least four hours had passed since the moment the boy had woken up. He was probably
ravenous.
As the boy ate, the elf commented on Harry's poor etiquette, all the while comparing it with
Regulus'. Harry gave the plate back to Kreacher, and the elf murmured something. But he
decided that Harry was better off hearing it anyway and said it louder, "Harry Potter has
better manners than Sirius Black. Oh, yes, Sirius Black is really a dog."
Harry rolled his eyes, and reminded him, “He will bite your ear again if you keep bullying
him.”
Kreacher let out a series of curses, making them more emphatic by moving the plate around.
He popped out mid-rant leaving Harry alone one more time.
Severus held his breath when the boy left the room with the plate in hand, worrying about the
possibility of an altercation like he had seen in the summer before Harry’s fifth year. Severus
flew to another tree, the same one he had watched the house that time. Thankfully, Harry
managed to wash his plate and the remaining dishes on the sink without exchanging a single
word with his aunt and cousin. Severus flew inside the room and hung upside down from the
boy’s coat hanger. Hedwig began chirping in annoyance at his intrusion. He ignored the white
bird.
Harry returned to the room and stopped at the entry at the sight of him. The boy cocked his
head to the side and narrowed his eyes. Not removing his eyes from the bat, Harry walked
towards his pillow and removed his wand from under it. Next, he reached for the open
window and closed it. Smart boy.
He seemed to be considering something and Severus let him, wondering if the boy would fire
something at him. But Severus saw Harry’s face change and when surprise replaced wariness,
Harry snorted. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Harry laughed, “So you are the bat in the
dungeons.
Severus transformed and landed on his feet with only a bit of a flair in the middle of the boy’s
room.
“I see that you are in good sha—huff.” His sentence was cut off by the surprise of the sudden
hug.
He placed his hands around the boy’s shoulder. “Tell me you are taking me out of here,”
Harry mumbled against his shirt.
Severus took one hand to the boy’s hair, trying to adjust the stubborn strands, “I'm sorry, but
not today.”
Harry pulled back and looked up at him. Harry’s green eyes greeted him and Severus noted
that Harry was glad to see him.
And then it hit him: He looked at the boy and saw Harry’s green eyes, not Lily’s.
He wasn’t James Potter’s son when he got into trouble or did something wrong, he wasn’t
Lily’s son when he showed his immense heart and kindness, he was just Harry. And Harry
was his.
Ignoring the way his chest expanded, he said, “But they will get you out very soon,” Severus
told him. “I believe it will happen come Saturday.”
Harry nodded. “What are you doing here?”
“The Dark Lord sent me to watch over your house. He wants to know who’s protecting you.”
He explained. Harry let out a long-suffering sigh and dropped exaggeratedly backwards onto
his bed.
“He is so annoying.”
“Indeed,” Severus replied. He sat down next to the boy and watched perplexed how Harry
didn’t even react. To know that once they couldn’t even stand in the same room without
either - sometimes both - trying to flee as fast as possible. “How have you been?”
“‘M alright,” Harry said, “Kreacher brings food three times a day and he has also cast a
silencing charm in my room so I can make as much noise as I want… which is weird because
I grew so used to having to be quiet here that every time I drop something I break a sweat
looking at the door. Oh! And if you see a dog eating the flowers in the garden or pooping in
front of the door that’s Sirius. He’s been also pissing in the bushes. It’s driving Aunt Petunia
MAD.” Harry told him and Severus snorted, one could always count on Black to be childish.
“But other than that is fine, I think what Hermione said at the train got to them, or this time
they really believe someone is watching me because if they said three words to me since I
arrived is a lot.”
“And what, pray tell, did your sister tell them?” He asked, Merlin willing she hadn’t
threatened the muggles.
“She threatened them,” Harry replied unaware of Severus’ dismay, “Not really.” He
corrected, “You know her. I don’t think saying ‘remember. He knows where to find you’ is a
threat in her books."
Severus chuckled, “No, I don’t think it is.”
Harry looked up, leaning against his elbows, “Do you want to see her?” The boy asked.
Severus stilled. “What?”
“Yeah,” he said and reached for something inside the drawer on his bedside table. “Here.” He
said, pulling a piece of broken mirror. “Hermione! Sis! Are you there? Wake up!” He shouted
into the mirror.
“What is it?” He heard from the other side of the mirror and his heart soared.
“Look who’s here!” Harry said and turned the mirror to him.
Hermione gasped. Her mouth opened and her eyes widened in the loveliest expression of
surprise he had ever seen.
“Don’t move!” She said and they watched her getting to her feet, someone muttered in pain
and she apologised with a quiet ‘sorry Theo’. “Stay there I just need to—” she stopped mid-
sentence and looked around, “—where are my shoes?”
“Probably in the room you are supposed to be sleeping,” came the reply from an annoyed
Weasley.
Hermione ignored the reply and deciding to go barefoot, left the room in a hurry, going down
the stairs two at a time. Molly Weasley called for her as she breezed past the door.
It was only when she was outside, at a considerable distance from the house and crouched on
the grass, did she speak to the mirror again. “Dad,” she said and her eyes immediately filled
with tears.
“Don't cry, love.”

“I promise that I’m not sad!” She said and wiped her tears, “What are you doing there?”
Harry replied that for him, “Voldemort sent him to spy on me.”
Hermione chuckled, but her eyes watered again. He knew what she wanted to say just by her
expression, “I will see you soon.”
She shook her head, “No. I don’t want you getting into risks. It’s okay, Dad. I’m fine.” She
said, putting on a brave face. “I saw Remus the other day. I finally got them to let him in and
—”
“Please tell me you didn’t threaten anyone again.”
“Again?” She asked, “Harry! What have you been telling Dad? And it wasn’t a threat. It was
a heavily worded proclamation followed by strong intent.”
Someone called her from the other side and she rolled her eyes before sighing annoyedly.
“They are asking who I'm talking to and—” She glared at someone in a way that made him
cringe, she was so like him, “Yes, Mrs Weasley. Of course! I’m talking to Lord Voldemort
and ratting my brother out. That’s exactly what I’m doing.”
“Your manners are appalling young lady! I was just inquiring in worr—”
“Bye HARRY,” she said emphatically, “talk to you later.” She looked at him and her lower lip
trembled, “Please.”
However she was, Severus knew that she most definitely wasn’t fine.
Hermione was gone and Harry offered him the mirror, “You can keep it if you want.” He
said, “You said I will leave here soon, I won’t need it then.”
He wanted. Merlin, how he wanted it. But he wouldn’t risk it. Not his daughter. “No,” he
said. “It's too dangerous.”
Harry nodded. “She is just sad.” The boy said, “I don’t think she has talked to anyone about
what happened that night at the tower. Not when half of the Burrow thinks she and Theo are
plotting—I mean that is because they were practising throwing knives and hand-to-hand
combat, but Molly has been shitty to them. It’s all the distrust.”
Severus blinked, “Hermione and Theodore have been doing what?”
“They had supervision, that's not the point.”
He decided to let it slide for now because Harry was right: it wasn’t the point. “I will get a
letter to her tomorrow. Draco too, but don’t tell her that, because she will worry and then she
will try to be there and it won’t be possible.”
“Where?”
“I was not the only one with a helpful mission. Draco and Narcissa were sent to try to break
inside Grimmauld place—”
“But they can get in easily.”
“Voldemort doesn’t know that, does he? And they didn’t bother telling him. So while
Voldemort believes they are trying to get in, they will be speaking with Remus and Sirius.”
Severus explained. “I hope it brings her some comfort.”
Harry nodded, “How has it been there? With him?”
Worried, Harry was worried about him.
“It’s been fine.”
He cocked his head to the side, “The same fine as Hermione’s?”
Severus patted the boy’s shoulder, “Something like it.”
***
The entire plan was shit. It was the perfect recipe for disaster. There were so many people and
so many risks. If Harry knew how many people would be risking themselves for him, he’d
hate it.
“This is a terrible idea,” she said.
Moody shrugged her off, “Thank you for the input, Miss Granger.”
The twins sniggered next to her. They had arrived the day prior and now the Burrow was
filled with all of the Weasley kids but one. And Mundungus Fletcher, whom her father had
told her was being duplicitous. She had his letter in her pocket, just like Draco’s. Hermione
had cried like a baby once Remus gave them to her and then yelled a bit because he hadn’t
taken her. She could have seen them.
But the letters filled a hole in her chest that she had been refusing to acknowledge since the
day she left Hogwarts. The insurance that she was loved even after having done what she did,
that they didn’t see or think anything different regarding her. They understood her, they
missed her and she would always have a home with them.
“—if you have been listening you are aware that this rescue mission is dangerous and we
have to be ready for the Death Eaters who might be waiting. So, who volunteers?” Moody
asked.
Almost everyone raised their hands.
“Knock that hand down Ginny. You are not going anywhere.” Molly rebuked instantly.
“But—”
“You are underage and I say no.” The matriarch said and Ginny scowled, frustration coming
out of her in waves.
“You don’t get a choice Mundungus,” Moody said to the short man, who had kept his hand
down. “You are going and going with me.”
Hermione turned when she felt eyes on her, “what?” She asked Ron.
“You are not going to get Harry?” He asked her and Theo, for neither had raised their hands.
Everyone in the room had turned to them. She saw judgement and confusion in some people,
but most importantly, she didn’t see any of those in Remus' and Sirius’. “No. It’s a terrible
plan.”
“But it’s your brother!” Ginny argued, her blue eyes wide in disbelief.
“Yes. And I know he will appreciate much more if I don’t put myself at unnecessary risk
when you could simply ask—” quiet, Hermione, Remus sent through the bond, “him to take
the tube.” She changed lamely, keeping the ‘ask Kreacher’ she was going to say to herself, “I
don’t know! Something that doesn’t involve putting fourteen people in danger.”
“What is the tube?” George asked.
“Miss Granger’s nonsense.” Moody retorted.
“And besides,” Hermione said, ignoring the man, “Remus and Sirius can focus better on
keeping each other and Harry safe if Theo and I am here because I know they won’t be
worried about me.”
“This is war,” Molly said suddenly, her voice angrier than ever. Well, someone had had
enough. “And war requires sacrifices. You don’t think Arthur won’t worry? Four of his sons
are going!”
“So go yourself to lighten his load!” She shot back, “You didn’t raise your hand, Mrs
Weasley. Why are you not going? Don’t you want to bring Harry back?” Hermione asked
scathingly.
Hermione…
She ignored Remus. Mrs. Weasley glared harder, “I am no fighter! I would only make things
worse up in the air casting spells!”
“Well, Mrs. Weasley would you look at that! Neither am I! Moody said it himself, this is a
volunteer mission! And guess what, I don’t volunteer.”
Mrs. Weasley opened her mouth to say something else but Theo was faster, “Just shut up you
cow,”
“Theodore!” Remus chastised.
“You listen here, boy! I have dealt with your—”
“ENOUGH!” Moody called and banged his staff on the floor, they jumped. “We’ve stalled
long enough. Miss Granger and the Nott boy are not going. You better not have killed one
another when I return.” He barked at them, fixing his glass eye on Hermione.
“Pair up now.” Shacklebolt said, “I want a fully trained Auror with one of the young ones.
But Tonks, I want you with Sirius.”
“What? Why?” She asked. “I did finish my training, Kings.”
“Because both of you together can keep Bellatrix entertained.”
Hermione opened her mouth, and Remus tugged at the bond in reprimand.
Sirius is not bait!
Sirius will be fine, pup.
“Fred, you are with me,” Kingsley continued.
“Ron,” Mr. Weasley called.
Hermione watched them pair up, Fleur and Bill clasped hands and George walked towards
Remus.
She bit the inside of her cheek, This is shit. Kreacher could easily take him out of there and
bring him here. You know that.
I know. But Severus has given the information that the move will happen in the open tonight.
You don’t want to make him wrong.
Her chest twisted. And she glared at Mrs Weasley once more. How dare she speak of
sacrifices? When Hermione’s list of sacrifices was ever-growing? Is this how it’s going to be?
Risking one to keep the other safe?
Remus didn’t answer her.
Hermione watched as they left the house one by one, “Remember!” Moody called to the
group at large, "The good fliers go on brooms! The Death Eaters know Potter is a good flier.
He will be expected to be on a broom.” A general nod from the ‘Harrys' as they went towards
their different means of transportation. Hagrid had waited outside the house, his size too large
to fit in the cramped Burrow. Hermione saw him caressing one of the Thestrals, trying to
calm the creature down.
Sirius walked towards them for a hug and a kiss on their head, “We are going to be alright,
kiddo,” he promised her and then lowered his voice, “You know Harry has more people on
his corner than just us here.” She nodded. Dad. Draco. Lucius.
But still, whatever reassurance she got, wasn’t enough. Because, of course, Sirius and Remus
were going on brooms. Theo seemed to share her panic and in three strides was at Remus’
side, “Dad,” he called, his voice desperate. Hermione focused on something else.
The two oldest Aurors were on Thestrals with Mundungus and Fred, just like Bill and Fleur.
Ron and Mr. Weasleys got on the last two brooms. Hagrid climbed on the bike, the sidecar
empty for now.
They watched them leave and Theo walked back towards Hermione, wrapping his arms
around her shoulders as they disappeared in the sky.
A choked-up sound escaped Molly Weasley’s throat when the last of them disappeared into
the sky. Despite their many and constant altercations, they were two women with people they
loved on the line. Hermione had a brother out there who was the other’s side target. Mrs.
Weasley had already lost both of hers to the war. There were five Weasleys in the sky tonight
and Hermione had her brother, her father, her boyfriend and three men she considered uncles.
The gaps in their chests were the same size.
She was caught staring and Molly made sure to remove any trace of resentment from
Hermione, “You are a selfish girl.” Molly Weasley spat.
Hermione pulled away from Theo to whirl around. “You think I don’t want to be the one to
take Harry’s hand and bring him here? Just so then I am sure he is safe?” She asked the
woman, “If me staying to be one less person that would make him turn his head back because
I know Harry will hate being forced to flee as the others stay back to fight off the Death
Eaters, then I’m selfish. If it’s because I want Remus and Sirius to have their focus entirely
on my brother, then I’m selfish. Or hell, if it’s because my dad, my boyfriend and the man
who made sure I had a portkey to escape the Death Eaters are going to be there… A portkey
that sent your daughter to safety… People that I love are going to be there and I don’t want to
have to fight them. Then I really don’t care, I’m selfish.”
Hermione shrugged and turned away, not bothering to see if the woman had anything else to
say. After a while, they heard Mrs. Weasley and Ginny entering back inside, leaving the two
Slytherins to keep their eyes on the horizon, at the edge of the wards, willing everyone to be
safe and to return to them.
Almost an hour later, Harry and Hagrid appeared on hands and knees in the yard. Hermione
screamed and her screams were echoed inside the house by Mrs. Weasley and Ginny.
Hermione ran towards him. Theo, being bigger, ran past her easily and put an arm in front of
her as he pointed his wand at Harry.
“Are you the real Harry?” Theo asked and Hermione gripped Theo’s arms fiercely. Her
brother, because it was her brother, nodded. “Tell me. Where did we sleep on our last night at
Hogwarts?”
Harry got to his feet, “Dad’s quarters.” He replied.
Hermione wrenched free from Theo and jumped on Harry, flinging her arms around him.
“Thank Merlin.” She felt Theo behind her and the three of them squeezed each other for dear
life.
“What happened?” They heard Mrs. Weasley from behind them, “Where are the others?” She
asked.
Harry didn’t move from the hug, but inched his face to the side so he could look at the
woman, “What do you mean? Isn’t anyone else back?”
Hermione shook her head and Harry’s face grew pale. “They were everywhere. We were
surrounded immediately,” he began telling them rapidly. Theo, who was taller than both of
them had gotten an arm on each of them and was keeping them pressed to him. Hermione and
Harry had their heads against Theo’s chest and their hands squeezed Theo’s shirt. It was
exactly how Remus hugged them. “At least thirty of them. All waiting. It was chaos from the
start, a mass of people moving, flares of green light—they were all casting to kill. I couldn’t
tell who they were and after Hagrid got me away from the chaos I couldn’t see the others and
he— Hagrid wouldn’t—wouldn’t let me go back, Hermione.” He cried, “I don’t know, I
couldn’t see.”
“They will be here soon,” Hermione said, leaning her head to rest her forehead against
Harry’s, “They will be here.”
“Four Death Eaters had broken away from the circle and pursued us. They all aimed for
Hagrid’s back. They weren’t trying to hit me, those blasted Voldemort’s orders—Hagrid
swerved with the bike but they kept up and they knew it was me—they knew it and then they
left and Voldemort was there. Voldemort was flying like smoke in the wind, he didn’t have
anything! No broom or Thestral—He was so close—Hagrid was down and I thought—
Hermione, I thought I was going to die.” Harry confessed and they all squeezed one another
yet again. “We crossed the wards to the Tonks’ place and they held, thank fuck, because I was
gone. Done for.”
“Thank goodness you are all right,” Mrs. Weasley said and only then Hermione noticed that
both the woman and Ginny had gotten close.
The pair of Slytherins stepped back, allowing Harry to greet the others and Mrs. Weasley
pulled him to a hug instantly.
“Haven’t go’ any brandy, have yeh, Molly?” Hagrid asked a little shakily. “Fer medicinal
purposes?”
They knew she could have summoned it by magic, but the woman nodded and hurried back
toward the house shakily. Harry looked around, processing their pale faces and the fear so
etched on their skin.
“Sirius and Tonks should have been back first, but they missed their Portkey, it came back
without them,” Ginny explained, pointing at a rusty oil can lying on the ground nearby. “And
that one,” she pointed at an ancient speaker, “should have been Dad and Fred’s, they were
supposed to be second. You and Hagrid were third and,” she checked her watch, “if they
made it, George and Lupin ought to be back in about a minute.”
Just as she said it, a blue light had appeared in the darkness: It grew larger and brighter, and
Remus and George appeared, spinning and then falling. The sigh of relief that left both
Hermione and Theo could have shaken the ground. Immediately they knew that there was
something wrong: Remus was supporting George, who was unconscious and whose face was
covered in blood.
Theo and Harry ran forward, seizing George’s legs and helping Remus. Hermione felt glued
to the ground. Shakly, she made her legs work and carry her into the house and through the
kitchen to the sitting room after them. As the lamplight fell across George’s head, Ginny
gasped and Hermione felt bile rising up: One of George’s ears was missing. The side of his
head and neck were drenched in wet, shockingly scarlet blood.
The moment Mrs. Weasley bent over her son, Remus grabbed Harry by the upper arm and
dragged him, none too gently, back into the kitchen, where Hagrid was still attempting to
ease his bulk through the back door. Hermione and Theo rushed after them, “Hey!”
“What creature sat in the corner the first time that Harry Potter visited my office at
Hogwarts?” Remus asked, “Answer me!”
“A – a Grindylow in a tank, wasn’t it?” Harry replied.
Remus pulled Harry to his chest and Hermione and Theo jumped in once more. “I’m sorry,
Harry, but I had to check,” He explained.
“And you are not checking me?” Hagrid asked.
“You’re half-giant,” Remus clarified, looking up at Hagrid. “The Polyjuice Potion is designed
for human use only.”
But Harry was shaking his head, “It’s okay. Voldemort caught up with me.”
“Voldemort caught up with you?” Remus asked sharply. His eyes wide, “What happened?
How did you escape?” Harry retold the story once more and Remus began narrowing his eyes
as the story went. “They recognized you? But how? What had you done?”
“I… I saw Stan Shunpike... You know, the bloke who was the conductor on the Knight Bus?
And I tried to Disarm him instead of – well, he doesn’t know what he’s doing, does he? He
must be Imperiused!”
Lupin looked aghast. Theo groaned next to Hermione.
“You dumbass!” Theo said.
Remus shared the sentiment but with other words, “Harry, the time for Disarming is past!
These people are trying to capture and kill you! At least Stun if you aren’t prepared to kill!”
“We were hundreds of feet up!” Harry argued back, “Stan’s not himself, and if I Stunned him
and he’d fallen, he’d have died the same as if I’d used Avada Kedavra! Expelliarmus saved
me from Voldemort two years ago,” Harry added defiantly.
“Yes, Harry and a great number of Death Eaters witnessed that happening! Forgive me, but it
was a very unusual move then, under imminent threat of death. Repeating it tonight in front
of Death Eaters who either witnessed or heard about the first occasion was close to suicidal!”
“So you think I should have killed Stan Shunpike?” Harry asked angrily.
“Of course not,” Remus retorted, “but the Death Eaters – frankly, most people! – would have
expected you to attack back! Expelliarmus is a useful spell, Harry, but the Death Eaters seem
to think it is your signature move, and I urge you not to let it become so!”
Harry still had some complaints inside of him, so Hermione got in the middle. “What
happened to the others? You are the fourth portkey.” She reminded him. “Where’s Sirius?”
“Will my son be okay?” Mrs Weasley asked, her hands and clothes were now as bloodied as
George’s head.
Remus’ frustration with Harry seemed to drain away at the question. Hermione noticed how
he had tensed and squared his shoulders at the mention of Sirius: He didn’t know.
“I think so, although there’s no chance of replacing his ear, not when it’s been cursed off–-”
There was a scuffling from outside. Lupin dived for the back door.
Two figures had appeared in the yard, and as they ran outside they saw Shacklebolt and Fred
arriving, Fred now back to his normal appearance.
“Where's my brother?” Fred asked, his eyes wide.
Shacklebolt didn’t waste a second, over Fred's shoulder he raised his wand and pointed it at
Remus’ chest.
“What did I suggest to you and Alastor that made him call me a ‘sleazy Slytherin’?”
“That we should’ve approached the idea of bringing the Malfoys to us when we had the
chance,” Remus replied. Hermione was now looking at Kingsley Shacklebolt with new eyes.
Fred took that chance to sprint inside after his brother.
He seemed to have realised that because he winked at her, “I was never against you kid. I did
allow you into that prison, didn’t I?” He didn’t need a reply, he turned once more to Remus,
“But somebody betrayed us! They knew, they knew it was tonight!”
“So it seems,” Remus replied. Well, they knew that. “But they did not realise that there would
be seven Harrys.”
“Small comfort!” Shacklebolt snarled. “Who else is back?”
“Only Harry, Hagrid, George, and me.” Shacklebolt scowled. “What happened to you?”
“Followed by five, injured two, might’ve killed one,” Kingsley reeled off, “and we saw You-
Know-Who as well, he joined the chase halfway through but vanished pretty quickly. Remus,
he can –”
“Fly,” Harry supplied, still not over that information. “I saw him too, he came after Hagrid
and me.”
“So that’s why he left, to follow you!” Kingsley concluded. “I couldn’t understand why he’d
vanished. But what made him change targets?”
Remus threw a glance at Harry, who rolled his eyes. “Harry behaved a little too kindly to
Stan Shunpike,” he said.
They were entering the house again and Hermione’s eyes watered at the sight of Fred
kneeling next to his twin brother.
“What happened?” Shacklebolt asked. “We flew away by the end, I didn’t see you…”
“He lost an ear.”
“Lost an-–?” The man repeated, an eyebrow raised.
“Snape’s work,” Remus added. A bucket of water fell on top of her.
“Snape?” Mrs Weasley shouted. And glared at her.
“He was there?” Harry asked, “How—”
“He lost his hood during the chase. Sectumsempra was always a speciality of Snape’s—I
wish I could say I’d paid him back but all I could do after was to keep George on the broom
after he was injured, he was losing so much blood.”
“My poor boy!” Mrs Weasley cried and of course, because Hermione was there, “you didn’t
want to see what your dad is capable of, did you? Cursing kids!”
“It wasn’t like that, mother!” Fred snapped, turning furiously towards his mother.
His outburst made them all stop. Theo had yet another curse halfway out but shut up just in
time.
“Honestly, leave her alone,” George groaned, making them gasp. He tried to sit up, but Fred
kept him there.
“Don't move Georgie.” Fred said, “How do you feel?”
George moved his arm to touch the side of his head, “Saintlike,” he murmured.
“What?” Fred asked, “What's wrong with you?” He looked terrified and looked around, “is
his mind affected?”
“Saintlike,” George repeated, opening his eyes and looking up at his brother. “You see... I’m
holy. Holey, Fred, geddit?”
“Pathetic,” Fred told George. “Pathetic! With the whole wide world of ear-related humour
before you, you go for holey?”
“Ah well,” George said and then turned grinning at his tear-soaked mother. “You’ll be able to
tell us apart now, anyway, Mum.” He said and then let his grin fall just a bit, “But Fred is
right, and I repeat, leave her alone.” He tried to sit up again and this time Fred let him, “Tell
them, Fred.”
Fred nodded, “Snape went straight to Remus. He’s Hermione’s godfather, right? Snape
guessed Hermione would be with him. It was almost like he had been hit with a Confundus,
his spells were always going a bit over or to the side of us. And always hitting a Death Eater
instead. We knew then it was on purpose. Especially when a spell that missed me by inches
hit another Death Eater for the third time.”
“I moved too suddenly,” George continued, “That's why he got me,” he pointed to his ear,
“And it was just a scratch, but that spell is vicious.”
Before anyone could comment on Severus Snape's duplicity when it involved his daughter,
they heard a great crash from the kitchen. “I’ll prove who I am, Kingsley, after I’ve seen my
son, now back off if you know what’s good for you!”
Hermione had never heard Mr. Weasley shout like that before. They watched the man burst
into the living room, his bald patch gleaming with sweat, his spectacles askew, Ron right
behind him. Both looked pale but uninjured.
“Arthur!” Mrs Weasley sobbed. “Oh thank goodness!”
“How is he?” Mr Weasley asked his eyes on his injured son.
“I’m alright dad,” George replied.
Hermione tugged Theo and he left with her, through the kitchen and back to the yard. They
still had Sirius out there. She had been trying to keep her fear collected since Harry’s arrival
because he was supposed to be the third one, not the first. The second portkey had just
arrived, as had the fourth and fifth. But still, nothing on the first one.
Kingsley was striding backwards and forward, glancing up at the sky every time he turned.
Hermione and Theo stopped a bit behind him. Remus found them not much longer and they
opened up to let Remus stand in the middle of them. They clasped their hands and kept their
eyes gazing upward in silence. Hermione saw Harry and Ginny joining their silent vigil on
Theo’s other side. The minutes stretched into what might as well have been years. The
slightest breath of wind made them all jump and turn toward the whispering bush or tree in
the hope that one of the missing Order members might leap unscathed from its leaves – And
then Harry gasped in relief and Hermione felt it before she saw it. A broom materialized
directly above them and streaked toward the ground-– “Sirius!”
Hermione dashed, proper measures be dammed, she jumped at his neck. “I thought-– I
thought-–”
“I'm all right, kiddo,” Sirius said, picking her up and giving her a small shake… “I'm fine.”
“What happened?” Remus asked, his voice anxious. Sirius dropped her back down and
Hermione, being well used to them, just lowered her head and squeezed out of the way.
Perhaps the answer to Remus’ question was on Sirius’ lips because they both held onto each
others’ cheeks and kept their lips pressed for an eternity.
Theo rolled his eyes and turned to Tonks, “So? If you could work out the answer in words,
I’d appreciate it.”
She snorted, “Oh, it was wonderful!” Tonks replied. “Got one right in the head and I’m not
that good of a flier—”
“Wonderful?” Harry asked.
“It's the thrill, you know? Never in training did we get anything close to it and Sirius had fun
taunting my Aunt…”
“Bellatrix?” Hermione asked.
“Yeah, Moody was right. She really wants us. I’d say she wants us more than she wants you
and Harry.”
“And you taunted her?” Remus asked, having pulled back and was now glaring at Sirius.
“Moony,” Sirius said with a pout, “She tried very hard to kill me. You can't be mad at me.”
“Oh, yes, Padfoot. I can.”
Sirius just pecked him and turned to high-five Tonks, “You were brilliant Little Cousin—and
when you turned into her but with Gryffindor robes I thought she was going to fall from her
broom just by the sight of it!”
A muscle was jumping in Remus’ jaw. He shook his head and stalked out without another
word.
Hermione and Harry exchanged amused glances. Sirius was still riding the high and didn’t
seem too bothered by Remus’ exit.
“We definitely injured Rodolphus…" He told them and after making sure they were the only
ones there, added, “Saw your boyfriend and my Cousin-in-Law. Little fucker got my arm,”
Sirius turned to show the small nick behind his shoulder, “But well, it's not like they could let
us by without anything.”
Tonks snorted, “But neither was too kind to either Moody or Arthur. At least Ron looked
really good at firing spells and blocking.”
Shacklebolt appeared and threw a glare at Tonks, “Remus told me what you did.” She and
Sirius groaned and Hermione wondered if their sudden resemblance had more to do with
their mission together or if it was Tonks finally letting some of her natural traits come out.
After all, it was the first time Hermione looked at the woman and found the Black traits all of
the other family members seemed to share. “We will talk over it later. I’m going back to
Downing Street. Should’ve been there an hour ago.”
He Disapparated just beyond the boundaries and Sirius turned to them, “Do you want to go
inside?” He asked them, “I'm thinking about letting him cool off a bit and—” his sentence
was drowned in a general outcry: A Thestral had just soared into sight and landed a few feet
from them. Bill and Fleur slid from its back, windswept but unhurt.
The Weasleys rushed outside, eager to find their last family member returned. Mrs. Weasley
ran forward, but the hug Bill gave upon her was perfunctory. They had bad news. Looking
directly at his father, Bill said, “Mad-Eye’s dead.”
Nobody spoke, nobody moved. Hermione saw Harry shrinking next to her.
“We saw it,” Bill said. Fleur nodded, tear tracks glittering on her cheeks in the light from the
kitchen window. “It happened just after we broke out of the circle: Mad-Eye and Dung were
close by us, they were heading north too. Voldemort – he can fly – went straight for them.
Dung panicked, I heard him cry out, Mad-Eye tried to stop him, but he Disapparated.
Voldemort’s curse hit Mad-Eye full in the face, he fell backwards off his broom and – there
was nothing we could do, nothing, we had half a dozen of them on our own tail –” Bill’s
voice broke.
“Of course, you couldn’t have done anything,” Remus said, he had just left the house. Sirius
guessed he had cooled off, because he gripped Remus’ hand.
Everyone entered the house then, as there was no one else to wait for. The twins, the only
ones who hadn’t rushed outside, saw the looks on their faces and quickly asked, “What
happened?”
“Mad-Eye,” Mr. Weasley replied, “He’s dead.”
The twins’ faces of shock joined the rest. Nobody seemed to know what to do. Tonks was
crying silently into a handkerchief: She had been close to Mad-Eye, his favourite and his
protégée at the Ministry of Magic. Hagrid, who had sat down on the floor in the corner where
he had most space, was dabbing at his eyes with his tablecloth-sized handkerchief. There
wasn’t enough space for everyone in the house, but no one said a thing or seemed to mind.
Remus had Sirius in front of him, his arms around Sirius’ waist. Theo and Hermione had
heaved themselves onto the windowsill next to them. Harry had sat on the sofa next to the
twins and Ron. Bill walked over to the sideboard and pulled out a bottle of firewhisky and
some glasses
“Here,” he said, and with a wave of his wand he sent twelve full glasses soaring through the
room to each of them, holding the thirteenth aloft. “Mad-Eye.”
“Mad-Eye,” they all said, and drank.
“Mad-Eye,” echoed Hagrid, a little late, with a hiccup.

The firewhisky seared Hermione’s throat.
“So Mundungus disappeared?” Remus asked, he had drained his own glass in one and was
already reaching for the one in Theo’s hand.
The atmosphere changed at once. Everybody looked tense, watching and waiting, both
wanting him to go on, and slightly afraid of what they might hear.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Bill said, “and I wondered that too, on the way back here,
because they seemed to be expecting us, didn’t they? But Mundungus can’t have betrayed us.
They didn’t know there would be seven Harrys, which confused them the moment we
appeared, and in case you’ve forgotten, it was Mundungus who suggested that little bit of
skullduggery. Why wouldn’t he have told them the essential point? I think Dung panicked,
it’s as simple as that. He didn’t want to come in the first place, but Mad-Eye made him, and
You-Know-Who went straight for them. It was enough to make anyone panic.”
“You-Know-Who acted exactly as Mad-Eye expected him to,” Tonks sniffed. “Mad-Eye said
he’d expect the real Harry to be with the toughest, most skilled Aurors. He chased Mad-Eye
first, and when Mundungus gave them away he switched to Kingsley.”
“Yes, and zat eez all very good,” Fleur snapped, “but still eet does not explain ‘ow zey knew
we were moving ‘Arry tonight, does eet? Somebody must ‘ave been careless. Somebody let
slip ze date to an outsider. It is ze only explanation for zem knowing ze date but not ze ‘ole
plan.”
Hermione kept quiet, because she knew Remus and Sirius had told Narcissa the correct date,
who in turn had told her dad.
Harry, who also knew that, said “No. None of the Order would have told Voldemort we were
moving tonight,” he said. “Voldemort only caught up with me toward the end, he didn’t know
which one I was in the beginning. If he’d been in on the plan he’d have known from the start
I was the one with Hagrid.” He made sure to look at all of them, to see his words hitting
them, “If somebody made a mistake,” he continued, “and let something slip, I know they
didn’t mean to do it. It’s not their fault,” he repeated, again a little louder than he would
usually have spoken. “We’ve got to trust each other. I trust all of you, I don’t think anyone in
this room would ever sell me to Voldemort.”
She felt eyes falling on her and on Remus and Sirius and she bristled.
“Ok,” Sirius said, already tired of the conversation, “Let’s get it out of our chests, shall we?
I’ve gotten these looks last time around. And I lost all my friends because of them. We don’t
have half the people we had then to be this distrustful of one another.” He said, “Arthur,
Molly. You knew me from before. Yet you were all very quick to believe the news and let me
rot in Azkaban and Moony to disappear into obscurity.” Mrs Weasley tried to argue, but
Sirius wasn’t done, he raised a hand to stop her, “Consider yourselves forgiven. Now, if you
throw one more wayward look at Hermione, I won’t forgive you.”
“I wasn’t implying—” Hermione snorted and Mrs Weasley gave up the pretence, “She has
contact with Narcissa.”
“She does,” Sirius agreed. “And Narcissa is not the enemy. None of the Malfoys are.”
“Lucius Malfoy has—”
“Almost gotten me killed in my first year.” Ginny spoke over her mother, “And then he saved
my life in my fourth year. I feel like we are good.”
“He wouldn’t have saved you if Hermione hadn’t been with you.”
“No.” Ginny agreed, “But she was. And she’s here. And we should be glad that she is. That
she’s here and because of her, tonight three fewer Death Eaters were trying to curse us.”
“My sister is not a shield,” Harry said, “but Ginny has a point. Hermione is with me. And so
is Theo. Their Hogwarts house and their family ties are irrelevant to their level of
trustworthiness.”
“I'd say we need more of her family ties,” George said with a shrug, “If it weren’t for her dad,
I’d have lost more than an ear tonight.”
***
Later, when they had all showered and gotten rid of the signs of battle, Hermione’s small
family huddled together in Percy’s room, where Remus and Sirius shrunk most of the
furniture so they could fit another mattress in there. Harry was with them for now, but he was
going to sleep with Ron, while Theo and Hermione would share again.
“Four more days,” Sirius said from the place he was sitting on the mattress on the floor, she
was sitting between his legs while he tried to braid her hair.
“Five,” Remus added from the bed. “The wedding. We are part of the security team.”
“Oh yeah, and Andy is bringing the things Nneka’s gotten us.”
Theo perked up at that, “Do you think Blaise will have sent me something through his
mother?”
“Probably. You Slytherins always have your little letters between our business.” Sirius replied
and Hermione blushed, she still carried hers.
Harry had been mostly quiet, so Hermione nudged him with her feet, “What is it?”
“Moody is dead.” He said, “Do you think—Well, if we hadn’t… you know… told them…”
“No.” Remus said, “Voldemort believes that Severus is well informed, his safety relies on
him having the correct information. By telling him the correct day we ensured that we had
him, Lucius and Draco to count on. There were many Death Eaters around your house every
day in this past week. Not always Severus and never the Malfoys. Had we lied, there would
be no guarantee that the day we tried to move you, Voldemort hadn't sent the Lestranges and
the Carrows to keep watch.”
“Only Moody died because Severus had the correct day,” Sirius added, “And Severus helped
us by planting the idea of the decoy on Mundungus’ head. The Malfoys and he knew there
would be more than one Harry, that’s why they were so quick at going for me and Remus.”
Sirius patted her back, “All done kiddo.”
He got to his feet and climbed up on the bed next to Remus, kicking Theo to the side. The
boy rolled his eyes, “Dogs are not supposed to be on the bed.”
“And you are too old to sleep in your parents’ bed.” Sirius retorted easily.
He made to remove his shirt and Remus began the panicky “Don’t—” but it was too late.
There, for everyone to see was the MOONY tattooed across his abdomen.
“Oh, my Merlin!” Theo gasped. “Thank fuck I’m a school dropout and don’t have to take you
to a teacher-parent conference.”
“You are not a dropout,” Remus said with a pointed finger.
“Did you like it?” Sirius asked, not even slightly embarrassed. “I’m thinking about wearing
crop tops so everyone can see it—”
Remus narrowed his eyes at him, “You will not.”
“Maybe I won’t,” Sirius said with a glint in his eyes, “but I got this one as well—” he turned
to the side and there on his ribs they could see three animals sleeping together. A stag in the
middle, with a fox and a white wolf on each side.
“You got us?” Hermione asked.
“Even I?” Theo asked.
“Yeah, of course.”
Remus shook his head fondly.
“When can I get a tattoo?” Harry asked, suddenly interested.
Remus snorted.
Sirius winked at him, “Ask your dad and I will be the first one to take you there.”
“He will never let me,” Harry replied in horror.
“He will,” Remus replied, “he has one.”
Sirius guffawed, “You are evil Moony, that one doesn’t count.”
“I wasn’t talking about that one.”
Sirius sat up suddenly, “What? He’s never looked anything like a priest, how do you know he
has a tattoo?”
“Oh, this is grand,” Theo said. Hermione bit the inside of her cheek.
Remus was amused and he decided to make it worse, “When I saw him shirtless."
Sirius spluttered, got to his feet, almost tripped on Harry and ridiculously, used Hermione to
find balance. “WHY and WHEN have you seen him NAKED?”
Remus laughed, “I never said naked.”
“Moony! Shirtless then!”
“Oh, Pads it was years and years ago.”
Sirius wasn’t having any of it, he put his hands on his hips, “Tell me when.” Remus scooted
to the edge of the bed, tugging Sirius closer by the loops on his shorts with an ease that got
all of them red in the face. “Don’t give me that, I’m not easily swayed.” But his hands were
already around Remus’ neck.
“He has gold dust woman right here,” Remus said, his fingers running right below Sirius’
nipple, where he had a tattoo of his own.
Sirius groaned in exasperation, “He has a Fleetwood Mac tattoo?”
“He has two,” Remus laughed, “he has one for Landslide too.”
Sirius narrowed his eyes, “which part?”
“Even children get older, time makes you bolder.”
He groaned again, “Of course, he has that one.”
“You are the only one with ‘oh, daddy’ up in your thigh.”
“Jesus Christ,” Theo swore.
Hermione was chuckling, “You were all Fleetwood Mac fans?”
“Your mother was. The ’77 album was her favourite, she made us all listen to it a hundred
times.” Sirius explained.
Hermione smiled a bit and felt something growing in her chest. “I really like that album.” She
said. “Always did.”
“No surprise, it was the only thing playing in the house when she was pregnant with you,”
Remus said with a smile. “She used to listen to music with your dad, Severus, but he never
seemed to be the kind to like them, maybe I was wrong.”
“Can I see the oh daddy tattoo?” Theo asked with a smirk.
Sirius pushed Theo’s head away with a laugh, “Not today cub, not today.”
“Once all of this is over, I’m going to ask Dad for a tattoo and survive.” Harry decided.
“You do that, Harry.”
“And I’m gonna get one as well.” Theo announced, “We can go together with dogfather.”
“Dogfather!!” Sirius gasped and smacked Remus on the shoulder, “Did you hear that? I’m
dogfather Moony!”
“I heard that, Pads.”
“Oh, Cub, we are so getting tattoos after all of this is over.”
Tattoos or not, the only thing Hermione cared about was that they’d be together when all of
this was over.
***
The days that preceded the wedding were chaotic. The Order members had dinners at the
Burrow where they all discussed the latest news. They hadn’t found Moody’s body, but
neither had the Prophet published anything about his death or the entire battle. Shacklebolt
doubted that the Muggle Studies professor had merely resigned because no one seemed to
have seen her for weeks. And then there were the wedding preparations: nonstop cutlery
cleaning, colour-matching favours, ribbons and flowers, de-gnoming the garden, cooking
endless amounts of canapés. And of course, Hermione and Theo didn’t take part in any of
them. George, who was recovering still - but was actually using the pain to escape his mother
- was with them throwing sticks to Padfoot to catch.
“It must be so cool to become an Animagus,” George mentioned. “But Fred and I went
reading about it once, such a load of work, though. We couldn’t be bothered.”
“What do you think you’d be?” Theo asked.
“I don’t know. I think something small. Easy to hide and sneak around.” George confessed,
“Imagine being a lion. The most useless animagus ever.”
Hermione agreed. “Professor McGonagall’s cat is cool. House pets can be really useful, no
one would think twice about seeing one.”
“Well, that’s exactly what Pettigrew did, wasn’t it?” Theo said. “I think I would want to be
something big, like Padfoot, something that can protect.”
Hermione nudged him with her shoulder, “You could be your Patronus.”
Theo grinned, “and you could be yours. Another wolf, like dad.”
She nodded and as she threw the stick yet again, she let the idea simmer in her mind.
“What are you even doing?” Remus asked and they turned around to find him and Bill
walking towards them.
“Sirius was getting a bit stir-crazy stuck in here,” Hermione explained, “and we needed
another excuse to avoid the chores.”
Sirius changed back and jogged towards them. “Hiya Moony, Bill. How’s work?” Sirius
asked the Weasley.
“The same. Well, not exactly. A lot of people are withdrawing money to go abroad. Mostly
the mixed families, half-blood with muggle-borns.”
“Why?”
“Some nasty rumours flying around the Ministry, some sort of registration being in the
works,” Remus explained. “Nothing official, but the Ministry is standing on shaking legs, to
topple down at any moment now.”
“Any news about Hogwarts?” Hermione asked.
“No. Minerva is still the Headmistress and they haven’t announced the rest of the missing
staff. But the letters were sent.”
The only things they talked about were the war or the preparations for war. Their bags were
ready for days now, all inside Hermione’s charmed bag that she carried across her body at all
times. They were ready. They just needed to get through the wedding.
On the day before the wedding, Fleur’s family arrived from France and Charlie arrived from
Romania. It was also Harry’s birthday and incredibly, Mrs Weasley had managed to find the
time to bake Harry a cake.
Hagrid and Tonks had been invited as well and they all joined the already crowded kitchen
and sitting room. They had been talking amicably when Mr Weasley’s weasel patronus shot
through the window to announce that he was coming with the Minister of Magic. It had been
a weird experience and even weirder when she had been called to be part of the discussion of
Dumbledore’s will.
Hermione could only hold the small book in her shaking hands and try to ignore the mad
beating of her heart with the knowledge that the man she had killed had left her something in
his will. A book. A children’s book. Hermione showed it to Remus and Sirius and the pair of
them cast all sorts of spells to see if there was something ominous inside. “Hermione, we
have to consider he knew you could be the one to… you know…this could be his payback…”
Hermione rolled her eyes, “he left Harry the golden snitch he caught at the first match Harry
played and Ron a Deluminator.” She said, “I don’t think it’s a payback, I think it’s related to
what he was doing with Harry. And who he assumed was going to do it with him. Weasley
and I.”
Theo made a face, “We are not taking Weasley anywhere.”

“Of course we are not.” Remus said, “Because we don’t have to search for the Horcruxes,
remember? They are almost all gone. Dumbledore didn’t know that. He thought he had
destroyed two and was on his way to a third.”
“We only need Nagini.”
Theo snorted, “And then the big guy.”
***
Hermione had had many strange experiences in her life, from the moment she received
Professor McGonagall in her living room to all the others that followed, but attending her
first magical wedding carrying a small purse magically enlarged containing tents, books,
clothes, food and everything they might need was definitely a new one.
“Now,” Remus said once they were all dressed up to the event, “We have information that
there may have an attempt to overtake the Ministry tonight,” he told them. “In case that
happens, I think we can get a three to five minute warning before the wards fall, therefore I
want to emphasise the importance of sticking together the entire night. I don’t care who tries
to pull you to a conversation or if Ginny decides she wants a kiss, I want the three of you to
be annoyingly joined by the hip.” They nodded. “Good. There is something that I forgot to
tell Theo and Hermione the other day, and now Harry can listen too. Once we leave here, the
place we will go is the one Sirius stayed hidden when he was on the run, remember?” Harry
and Hermione nodded, because they had been there before, Theo already knew he would be
Apparating with her when the time came. “But after that we will go to a safe place or other
that Sirius and I have checked already and reinforced the protective spells. Those places are
from the old days and the three of you don't know their location, so we will always be
Apparating in groups. Hermione, you will be with Sirius and Harry will be with me, this way
we always have a way to communicate between us if something happens and the other group
doesn’t reach the safe house.”
“What about me?” Theo asked. “I can’t—”
“Yes, I know. It’s your choice, Theo. But I really want to have you with me.” Remus told him
and Hermione saw in Remus’ face everything she was feeling inside. How much he worried
about Theo and wanted him near always, to take care and protect. Theo called him dad all the
time and it was true, Remus saw him and saw his boy, his son, he had stepped up for
Hermione’s best friend and if that was possible, Hermione loved Remus even more because
of that.
Theo looked at her and then back at Remus, trying to make the decision. She gave him a nod
in incentive, a small ‘it's okay’.
“Can I switch?” Theo asked, “One time with you and then with Hermione? I promised—”
“Of course,” Remus said. “It works perfectly like this.”
That decided, they were free to go and join the arriving guests.
It seemed insane, that people were flying in for a wedding, that Remus and Sirius had to fight
for their way in and now each and every member of the Weasley was present in the covered
area they built behind the Burrow.
The three of them stuck together and soon became very clear that they would have to be
annoyingly clingy to one another, because people tried to pull Harry for a conversation and
Hermione and Theo had to stand a little behind like security guards.
Viktor Krum had been invited and Hermione was pleasantly surprised to find him there. She
hugged him in greeting and even accepted a dance with him. Viktor hadn't even felt bothered
by Theo and Harry glaring at the Bulgarian.
Overall it was nice to take the war out of her mind for a few hours, to laugh and be twirled
and people-watch. Fleur was magnificent of course, no one had ever looked as beautiful as
the French woman.
“Look at that,” Theo said, pointing out towards Professor McGonagall, who was dabbing her
eyes at the sight of Sirius and Remus dancing with one another. “She’s truly crying.”
Hermione snorted and their professor turned around to glare at them. “An old woman can still
cry, Mr Nott.”
“Of course, professor.” Theo replied quickly, “You have excellent hearing, by the way.”
She scowled, “Of course I do.” McGonagall turned again to the pair, Hermione had to admit,
it was a lovely sight that made her really happy to see. Because it was there, wasn’t it? They
were happy.
“They are happy.” Hermione said with a small smile.
“Indeed, Miss Granger. And for your information, I’m crying because the last time I saw
them this happy was at your mother’s wedding. Of course, they were much more
exhibitionists back in the day, but still. Happy.”
Harry, who was in the table next to Hermione with Ron and Luna joined the conversation at
the mention of their mother, “How was it, professor? Their marriage. No one has never told
us anything about it. I only saw the pictures.”
Professor McGonagall decided it was reason to cry again, “Oh, forgive me. I’m naturally
emotional at weddings. But yes, of course. It was a beautiful ceremony.”
And so it seemed. Professor Mcgonagall painted them a lovely memory, full of love and
laughter and muggle music. It twisted her heart to see that a beautiful night like their wedding
had become so tinted with pain and suffering: neither the bride and groom nor more than half
of the attending party were alive anymore.
“What is that, Hermione?” Luna asked later, after McGonagall had excused herself and
joined Sirius for a dance.
“Oh, it’s a book.” She replied, showing the cover to the blond girl.
“This doesn’t seem the sort of book you’d read. I believe you surpassed its contents at the age
of two.”
Hermione gave her a small smile, “It is children stories, but actually is the first time I read it.
I didn’t grow up magical, so they are new to me.”
Luna returned the smile with a big grin, “Oh, I’d love to see what sort of stories you read as a
child. I think I would find them fascinating.”
“We have some good ones, some even similar to Babbity the Rabbit.”
Theo hummed next to her, “I liked that one.”
“My favourite is the one about the Deathly Hallows.”
Hermione frowned, “The Three Brothers, you mean?”
“Yes. Daddy is one of the believers that they exist, you know?”
Theo leaned forward, “Your dad is part of the group?” He asked. Hermione realised this was
something her muggle upbringing had failed her.
Luna nodded, “My father wears the symbol as a necklace. I have the earrings, see?” Luna
showed her earrings and Hermione’s eyes widened. It was the same symbol she had found
drawn in the corners of the page.
Hermione opened the book to the story and turned it to Luna, “Is this one, right?”
“Yes! Well, that’s a curious version you have.” Luna commented, “Whoever owned it before
you was also a believer.”
Theo and Hermione exchanged looks. “What does it mean?” She asked.
Luna moved closed to show them. "See the triangle? That’s the Cloak of Invisibility, given to
the youngest brother, made by Death’s own cloak. The circle in the middle is the
Resurrection Stone, given to the second brother. And the stick is the Elder Wand, given to the
eldest brother. Together they make the Deathly Hallows.”
“Do you believe they exist? That they are real? Not only part of a story?”
“Yes. And so does daddy.” She said easily, “A few others as well.”
A few others included Dumbledore apparently. It was clear now, this was the story behind the
reason he had gifted her the book. The Deathly Hallows. Were they real? Or did Dumbledore
only believed them to be? Did Voldemort knew about them?
“No one has never found any of them.” Theo said, “they have been generational rumour
among the pureblood families.”
“But what’s so special about them?” Harry asked, “I mean, their names are obvious, but I
have a Cloak, how’s that one different?”
“Well, the story says the youngest brother hid his entire life underneath it, only meeting
Death at old age when he finally removed it. It’s the Cloak of Death herself, providing a
lifetime of use.” Luna explained, “That's the difference, because the ones the Aurors use and
the ones the Twins are now selling they only last a few uses, they don’t have a strong enough
spell to last that long.”
Hermione paused and looked at her brother. His face showed that he was thinking the same
she was. Harry’s did. They had been using the cloak since the first year and they knew James
had used it throughout all his Hogwarts years and so had James’ father. The Cloak wasn’t any
less powerful than before.
What if… Hermione gasped and disguised it as a cough. That’s why Dumbledore borrowed
the cloak from James! she realised, He wanted to see if it was the one.
Had he concluded anything? Did that mean the other two Hallows existed as well? Had
Dumbledore been a collector?
Harry’s line of thinking seemed to be the same, “Has anyone ever offered a description of the
other two? How’s the stone or the wand?”
“The only thing people agree on is that the Stone has the symbol of the Deathly Hallows on
it. And of course, the Elder Wand is made of elder wood.” Luna replied and Harry nodded in
thought.
He had realised something and Hermione couldn’t wait until they were alone so he could tell
her. Their anxiety doubled when a drunk Aunt Muriel found Ron and decided to sit with the
boys, being joined soon after by Doge who then ignored all of the young ones to badmouth
Dumbledore and his family. All because the newest Rita Skeeter book. Oh, sometimes
Hermione appreciated the woman.
In a quickly succession of words that had them almost falling over their chairs in the attempt
to listen better, they learned that Dumbledore had two siblings, that his sister had been a
Squib and died probably at Dumbledore’s fault, that the famous wizarding historian Bathilda
Bagshot had been their neighbour and that they all had lived in Godric’s Hollow. Hermione
looked at Harry and saw his face draining of colour and a sadness overcoming him.
All these years and Dumbledore had never bothered to mention he had lived in the same
village as the Potters.
Harry looked shaken and Hermione changed seats to be closer to him, “Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I—”
It has happened. The ministry has fallen, Narcissa sent her through the bond and Hermione
gasped.
“It happened.” She whispered, tugging Harry’s arm, “Tell Sirius, I’m telling Remus right
now.”
They had just sent their respective messages when the official one came in the form of a large
and silver lynx falling through the canopy over the dance floor. The ones there stopped to
stare, Remus and Sirius were making their way to them.
The Patronus’s mouth opened wide and it spoke in the loud, deep, slow voice of Kingsley
Shacklebolt. “The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming.”
Silence spread outward in cold ripples from the place where the Patronus had landed. Then
somebody screamed.
Everyone in their table jumped up to their feet, Theo gripped her hand and she did the same
to Harry’s. The crowd quickly grew panicked and guests were sprinting in all directions;
many were Disapparating; the protective enchantments around the Burrow had broken.
At the same time guests Disapparated, the masked figures Apparated inside. They were closer
to them than Remus and Sirius and Hermione felt the desperate GO NOW from Remus. She
turned on the spot; the streak of lights from the friend and enemy spells were extinguished as
darkness pressed in upon her. She gripped tight onto Harry’s and Theo’s hand as they
squeezed through space and time.
They had arrived at the edge of the cave and they all rushed inside it as quickly as they could.
“They were so fast—” Harry said.
“Did dad say anything? Are they coming straight here? Are they fighting?”
“I don’t know. He just told me to leave.”
“The others – everyone at the wedding –” Harry tried to speak.
“We can’t worry about that now,” she whispered. Her heart was beating too loud in her chest.
“It’s you they’re after, Harry, and we’ll just put everyone in even more danger by going
back.”
Did you get out? came from Narcissa, it tugged at her heart the desperation in the message.
Yes, Hermione sent back. Harry and Theo are with me.
There was a crack of Apparition outside and the three of them drew their wands.
“It's us,” Sirius called.
“It's really him,” Harry said, lowering his wand, “he just told me through the bond.”
Sirius and Remus appeared at the mouth of the cave and they looked a bit worse for wear, but
overall well.
“Everything alright?” Hermione asked.
“Yes,” Remus replied, “You okay? You took the two of you with you in Side-Apparition, that
isn’t an easy task.”
“I'm alright,” She replied.
“Most people managed to escape, the Weasleys, the Lovegoods, Tonks and Andromeda and
Fleur’s family. We didn’t stay long enough to see about the others.” Remus told them.
“They quickly left after realising you were not there.” Sirius added. “But one thing is clear,
they are not firing to disarm. Dolohov sent something nasty towards one of the guests.”
“Are we staying here?” Theo asked, “This is a bit too open, is it not?”
“Just for the night.” Sirius replied, “We need to lay low a few hours and not move to any
registered or known safe house because they might be going through the the Ministry files in
the Auror office. We have got word from Shacklebolt but we still don’t know if he escaped.
Or any other Order member, because some of them know the location of the houses we
checked.”
Theo nodded and walked back towards the wall of the cave.
“Here,” Remus said, “Andromeda gave it to me. It’s for you.” He handed Theo a small
envelope.
Theo’s blue eyes got wide, “Blaise?”
“I believe so.”
They gave him privacy to read his letter and Hermione joined Sirius and Remus so they could
show her the best protective spells and how to cast them more efficiently. They didn’t pull
out the tent, as the cave’s ceiling was too low for it, so they laid down on the stone floor
instead.
Hermione moved to removed her shoes and Sirius stopped her, “Keep them on,” he said in a
saw voice, “We never know when we might need to flee in the middle of the night.”
She nodded a bit dumbly, her chest twisting in pain. They were fugitives now and Sirius was
a fugitive again.
“I will take the first watch,” Remus announced. “Try to get some shut eye.”
Chapter End Notes
Let me know in the comments what you think!!

The title and the quote at the beginning belong to Landslide by Fleetwood Mac
Some parts have been taken from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, they don't
belong to me
You can find me on twitter @moonyhoax

battle, my love I will see you in the end
Chapter Notes
Hello! I hope all of you had an enjoyable new year! Let's hope for an amazing 2024!
Also, I hope you enjoy this chapter! This has yet to be revised for errors, if it bothers
you too much, you can wait till tomorrow when I revise it! I just really wanted to update
this before going to bed.
how much should I take

when everything you make you will someday break
I don't think I can, build it again
Chapter Seventy Two
Sleep evaded her the entire night. She jerked awake at the smallest of sounds and the one
time she managed to fall into deep sleep she jumped awake from a nightmare. It was the
tower again, she cast the Avada Kedavra on Dumbledore but when she looked, the body
falling was her dad’s.
Hermione hadn’t been the only one, once she woke up during Sirius’ watch and Theo was
sitting with his knees up and staring unfocused ahead of him. When the morning came, they
were all too eager to stop the pretence of falling asleep.
“We should get something to eat before we move.” Remus said.
“What do you have there that we can eat?” Sirius asked her.
She made a face, “For breakfast, I’ve got some fruits, bread, biscuits and somethings I nicked
from the wedding.”
He squeezed her arm, “That will be enough.”
They ate quickly, not even bothering to sit down, just passing the food around and taking
anxious bites out of whatever they had. All the while stealing glances towards the edge of the
cave.
“We should also try to get some news,” Remus said, “the other safety houses are nowhere
near a magical village. This could be one of our only chances.”
Sirius nodded, “I can go to Hogsmeade as a dog and steal this morning's Prophet from
someone.”
“Good. Scrimgeour had been controlling the news for months, I’m certain whoever is in
charge now will have gotten something written there.” Remus agreed and Sirius quickly
turned into Padfoot. Harry petted the dog’s head affectionally before it trotted away.
“Who do you think is the new Minister anyways?” Theo asked. “I don’t think Voldemort
would just sit in the chair.”
“Someone under the Imperius Curse, for sure.” Remus said, “But the Minister is not the
problem, it’s the new laws and regulations Voldemort is going to make them approve that I
worry about. Registration, full-on—”
Remus got cut off by a scream and the sound of a spell hitting the air. They rushed to the
edge of the cave with their wands in their hands.
Padfoot was on top of Dolohov, the dog's huge mouth on Dolohov's neck, his mask now
laying on the grass. The other Death Eater was rushing towards his fallen wand. Hermione
sent him flying back with an Expulso at the same time Harry and Remus stunned Dolohov.
Just to be sure, Theo cast a Stunning spell at the Death Eater Hermione sent flying.
Sirius turned back, “They Apparated right at the end of the road.” He spoke quickly, his eyes
searching the area in alert. “They knew exactly where we were.”
“How?” Hermione asked, her voice low.
“The trace,” Harry said. “Maybe I still have—”
“It's not possible,” Theo replied, “The law—”
“They overtook the Ministry!” Harry replied, “They could have changed—”
“No,” Theo shook his head, “It’s ancient magic, they could never do it overnight. I don’t
think it’s possible at all.”
“We can talk about it later,” Remus said, pulling them towards Sirius, “We have to go. Others
may come.”
“We should alter their memories,” Hermione suggested, “Make them forget seeing us.”
“Good idea.” Sirius said, “Take Dolohov kiddo, I will get the one you sent flying.”
They made quick work of their memories and quickly separated into groups to Disapparate.
She arrived with Sirius a pop before the other three. The house in front of them was small
and looked decrepit, overgrow grass all around it and broken windows and caved-in roof. It
didn’t look much like a place they could stay.
“This is a shithole,” Theo commented.
Sirius snorted, “Which means the spells are working,” he replied, “Let's go. Once we cross
the wards you will be able to see it.”
They walked towards the house, despite the reassurance that the spells were holding, they all
had their wands in their hands.
Once they crossed the wards, the view changed but the improvement was minimal. The house
didn’t look like it was going to fall on itself anymore, but the grass around it remained the
same. Remus opened the door to them and Hermione couldn’t help but notice the pinched
expression on his face.
She watched him take the house, the mismatched chairs not properly arranged under the
table, as though someone had just gotten up from one and didn’t bother to place it back in its
place, the two glasses on the rack left there forgotten with a stained circle under them, the
open cupboard on the kitchen and the empty mug on the counter, the bag of tea left next to it.
Whoever had stayed here, had left abruptly and by the pained expression in Remus’ face, he
seemed to know exactly who.
He blinked the memories away and spoke, “There are two bedrooms with two bunk beds
each, after some cleaning spells and checking for bugs, they will be fine.”
“Boys,” Sirius called, “with me. Cleaning duty is with us.”
“Why do we get cleaning duty?” Theo asked.
“Are we not going to talk about what we just left behind?” Harry asked with a confused face.
“Later,” Sirius replied to Harry and then to Theo, “because I said so.” He stopped for a
moment in front of Remus and gave him a look, Remus only nodded and Sirius nodded back,
but only left after leaving a small kiss on Remus collarbone.
“Oh yes, very democratic,” Theo said but he was the first one to disappear inside the first
bedroom.
“We get the kitchen, pup.” Remus told her.
“You okay, Moony?”
He reached for her, squeezing her shoulder, “Yeah. It’s just—been a while since I’ve been
here. We didn’t enter the houses when we checked them. I—The memories hit me, that’s it.”
She nodded, “Do you want to talk about it?” Hermione asked, “You know who was here
before, don’t you? You can tell me while we find something edible with what I have and
whatever’s left here that hasn’t perished.”
“That’s a good idea, pup.” He said and together they opened and closed cabinets in search of
utensils they could use with the things Hermione had. It wasn’t much.
And Remus told her about Marlene McKinnon and Dorcas Meadowes. This safe house had
been the last one he stayed before the end of the war. Frank Longbottom had been here with
them as well. They spent days at a time holed up in this house and he told her they would
most likely find a bottle of whiskey and cards around, because it was the only thing they had
for entertainment. Frank had been the first one to leave, to hide with Alice and small Neville,
and then Remus left for a mission with the werewolves and he returned to another safe house
where he received the news of the McKinnon’s deaths. “A group of Death Eaters got them
all, the entire family. I know Travers was one of them, but we never learned who were the
others. And Dorcas—she didn’t care about the Death Eaters. She went after him instead, to
kill him herself for what he had done to Marlene and her family. And he killed her personally.
Your dad told me the whole thing some years later, how she was a vision of fury making her
way past them.”
“Did he know her too?”
“Dorcas had been in Slytherin with your dad, but she had friends all around. She was friends
with the girls in Gryffindor but spent most of her time with Regulus and the boys in his year,
Barty and Evan. In our last year, she and Marlene got together.” Remus sighed and threw
more things inside the trash. “Like I said, memories. I think Dorcas was the last one here. I
think she left the moment she got the news.”
And she never returned, Hermione thought.
She and Remus managed to put together a soup with the vegetables and the potato she had.
They left it on the stove cooking with magic and went after the other three to check on them.
It didn’t look like much cleaning had been done as they found them sitting on the floor, each
boy on one side of Sirius, who had a box of photographs in his hands. “Look what I found,
Moony.” Sirius turned one of the pictures and it was of a boy who looked remarkably similar
to Neville with a tall black girl with locks in front of him, they were arm-wrestling and the
loop showed the effort in both of their faces.
“I took that one,” Remus said and sat down as well, joining them.
They went through the photos, the two adults telling them small stories as they went, some
regarding the loops in them, others were just memories they had of the people they lost.
“This woman looks like Luna,” Harry commented, pointing at a woman who had Luna’s
exact face but with darker eyes and hair.
“That’s because it's Pandora, her mother.” Sirius replied.
Hermione looked at the picture and noticed something, “She's wearing the earrings Luna was
wearing at the wedding.” She pointed out, “the Deathly Hallows symbol.”
Sirius chuckled, “Oh yeah, she used to believe in that crap.”
The three of them frowned and Hermione pulled the book out from her bag, “We don’t think
it’s crap, Sirius.” She said and showed him the pages with the symbol drawn on them.
They told them about their conversation with Luna at the wedding, about the cloak, the stone
and the wand. Hermione pointed out that Dumbledore had taken James’ cloak to study it and
it couldn’t just be a coincidence that he seemed to have been a believer. “This is what he
wanted from me with this book.” Hermione told them, “This story. The entire thing is in
runes, which makes it easier to hide an added symbol that could be easily mistaken for a rune
by someone who doesn’t know them.”
She pulled Harry’s cloak out as well, “We think this might be the cloak.”
Sirius reached for it, touching the material almost reverently and Hermione wondered if he
had seen it again since his return. “It is exactly the same as I remember,” he told them and
then began looking at the patterns on the cloak. “Shit. It’s—Fuck, it’s here. All these years
and we never—Look,” he showed it to them and there it was, the small symbol Luna had
explained, carefully woven inside one of the many shapes and symbols at the bottom of the
cloak.
They let the shock wash over them, Sirius holding the cloak in his lap, Hermione with the
book and Harry with a frown as he put his hand in his pocket, “I think I know where the
stone is,” he said.
“What?” Remus asked, “Where?”
“The ring Dumbledore destroyed. I saw the memory—during the lessons we had, one of the
Horcruxes were the Gaunt Family ring and—there was a stone there, black and small and it
had this symbol on it.”
“The hand!” Theo said with a snap of his fingers, “That's why he put it on!” He shook his
head in disbelief and then chuckled, “He already knew it was a Horcrux when he got it,
right?” Hermione nodded, Sirius shrugged, Remus motioned to go on, “He asked for the
Cloak, he kept the Cloak, he is—was known as the most powerful wizard that ever existed,
had a shit lot of titles to his name, of course he would want to be the fucking Master of Death
as well. And now we know he had some family issues that would make him, I don’t know?
Apologise for being a shitty brother that got his sister killed?”
Hermione gasped, “Theo, you genius! It’s true! He refused to look Harry in the eye when he
found out Harry had a Horcrux inside him. Why would he put on a Horcrux ring on his hand,
knowing it could be cursed? Because the odd chance he could see his family again with the
Resurrection Stone spoke to him!”
“Those are strong points,” Remus conceded, “A bit less swearing would be grand, Theo. If
they are real—which we have just confirmed they are, it means we have one in our
possession and two more that we don’t know where they could be. But, most importably, we
don’t know why Dumbledore thought you would want or need this information. Why did he
give you the book, the Golden Snitch to Harry and the Deluminator to Ron? What part do
these items play in what he wanted Harry to do?”
“They can’t be related to the Horcruxes, because we destroyed almost all without them,”
Hermione said. “It can’t be a personal side quest he wanted fulfilled, can it?”
“No.” Sirius shook his head, “It has to do with the war, but I don’t think it’s directly related to
the Horcruxes, Severus told us Dumbledore only learned about them after the diary in your
second year. He took James Cloak way before that.”
“What should we do?” Hermione asked, “Do we find the other two?”
Harry removed the Snitch from his pocket and it fluttered its wings on his palm, “Why did he
give me this?” He repeated the question.
Sirius’ eyes widened, “Oh, that old fool. Should’ve placed Ravenclaw with all the games and
puzzles he liked to leave behind.”
“What do you mean?” Harry asked.
Hermione’s own eyes widened when it dawned on her, “Snitches have flash memories,” she
said.
“What?”
“You really listen to Draco, then.” Theo commented, impressed.
She ignored him, “A Snitch is not touched by bare skin before it is released, not even by the
maker, who wears gloves. It carries an enchantment by which it can identify the first human
to lay hands upon it, in case of a disputed capture. If this snitch is the one you caught in your
first Quidditch Game, it should've remembered your touch, and… Well, it should have
opened to your touch.”
“I see,” Remus said, looking curious now.
“Do you think he put the stone in here?”
“Possibly,” Remus said, “It fits his style.” He showed his fingers, “the third floor game, the
Mirror of Erised he just casually left inside an unlocked room, hiring me when it suited
him… I could go on.”
Harry held the Snitch with both thumbs and forefingers, looking at it closely, “Why it hasn’t
opened then?”
“Well,” Theo said with a smirk, “You didn’t catch your first Snitch, did you? You went and
swallowed it. It was glorious. We have the picture framed in the Slytherin Common Room.”
“We have no such thing!”
Harry made a face, “So… Should I just put this ball in my mouth?”
Hermione rolled her eyes at the innuendo and Theo sniggered, “It wouldn’t be the—”
“Theodore,” Remus cut him off with a look. And then turned to Harry, “Just touch your lips
to it, it’s the first touch.”
He did that and the thing still didn’t open. Frustration and bitter disappointment welled up
inside all of them, he lowered the Snitch and then she saw it, “Look! There’s writing on it,
quick, look!”
There it was, Harry looked at it and read it out loud, “I open at the close.” He showed it to
them, engraved upon the smooth golden surface, were five words written in a thin, slanting
handwriting. “That’s Dumbledore’s handwriting,” Harry said. “What does it mean?”
No one knew the answer and they found themselves in yet another death end.
Sirius wasn’t done with the mystery, “Counting with the stone in there, plus the Cloak right
here, that leaves us without the wand. But again, why do we need them? Why are they
important? Or better, which one did he think was important?”
Hermione snorted, “Easy, isn’t it? The only one we don’t have.” She said, “when has he ever
made anything simple?”
Remus nodded, “The elder wand.”
“Maybe it can destroy Horcruxes?” Theo asked, “You guys said he also wanted to leave the
Gryffindor Sword to Harry, and we know it’s because it destroys Horcruxes, so maybe he
knew they wouldn’t give the sword to him, he just wrote in there to have them mention it and
make you think of ways to destroy the horcruxes and then Hermione, who’s brilliant, would
later do the mind trick to find out about the Deathly Hallows and realise that the only other
weapon you don’t have maybe can also destroy them.”
Harry chuckled and repeated Remus’ words, “It fits his style.”
“Better yet, it fits your style.” Remus said, “It’s how you’ve tackled everything thrown at you
so far.”
“But we don’t need it,” Harry said with a shrug, “We have something to destroy the
Horcruxes with, we don’t need an all-powerful wand for that. I’m pretty fine with the one
Ollivanders made me.”
“Ollivanders,” Hermione said. Goosebumps ran down her arms as she stilled, “He’s gone.
They took him last year, remember? I don’t think it’s us who need a new wand…”
“Do you think Voldemort knows about them?” Remus asked her.
“I don’t know,” she said, “Maybe not necessarily, maybe he just wants a new wand.”
“He does!” Harry said, “He must! Because—”
Harry’s sentence died with the explosion that hit the house.
“They've found us!” Remus called and with his wand ready, went to the corridor firing spells,
Sirius was quick after him.
“How are they finding us?” Hermione asked the boys, crouching and avoiding the spells
flying over them.
The Bombarda had taken down the living room wall and the roof, Remus and Sirius were
now firing spells hidden behind the debris that remained.
“They are there!” A Death Eater called, “All of them!”
Hermione found the untouched pot of soup still sitting on the stove and she sent it flying to
one of them, hitting them straight in the face with boiling water. The man screamed in pain
and he removed his mask, Hermione recognised Dolohov again.
Remus finished with Dolohov once more and joined Sirius’ fight.
“Hello, cousin!” Bellatrix cackled, “Aren't you curious how we keep finding your litter?”
“A bit, yeah!” He called over a spell aimed at her, now that he knew it was his cousin, his
spells got even more violent.
Theo and Harry were both firing at a third Death Eater, and because Theo hadn’t gone
ballistic, Hermione guessed it wasn’t his father under the third mask.
She hid behind the fallen sofa and Accioed the Cloak, the Snitch and the book back, quickly
putting them inside her small bag.
“Moony,” Sirius called, “get them and go! I will find you there.”
“I'm not leaving you alone,” Remus hissed.
“They want them, Moony, take them.”
Theo’s cry of “Sectumsempra!” surprised them and made Bellatrix pause.
“Oh little Nott, if you kill my husband before I do, I’m gonna be really upset.” She fired
something purple at them and Hermione stopped it with a shield.
Theo staggered back, and turned to Remus, “Go dad, I will hold them back with Sirius.”
Remus seemed to like the idea even less, but Hermione knew better. She wasn’t born of a lie,
as she had once believed, no, she was born of sacrifices. They were written in the very fibre
of her being, in the core of her magic, so Hermione gripped Harry’s arm and reached towards
Remus.
He looked at her and then at Sirius, who had lost his focus not once while fighting Bellatrix.
Remus said with a hiss, “You two better come back to me.”
“You still here, Moony? Get the fuck out of here.”
Remus Disapparated with them and the world squeezed and turned and disappeared and
reformed the moment they arrived to the new place.
He let out a series of curses, some of them were in Welsh as he dragged them through the
wards of yet another decrepit looking building, this time a church. He didn’t go down
memory lane in this one, instead he stalked back and forth, ran his hand through his beard
and flared his nostrils, “How are they finding us? It’s not the trace, otherwise they’d found us
during the night or immediately after we apparated away,” he was saying, “Neither of us has
come anywhere near a Death Eater to have been put under a tracking spell… Maybe a blood
work? Narcissa wold have told you at once and—”
Remus was cut off by the Apparition crack, wands ready, they saw Sirius and Theo arriving.
“Theo!” Hermione cried, because his left arm was bleeding from a gash on his shirt. They
rushed to help them, “What happened?” She asked.
Theo moved from Sirius to Remus the moment he got close enough and Remus helped him to
the closest pew, “Get the healing kit Hermione,”
She nodded and Accioed it from inside the purse. Hermione opened it on the floor in front of
them and the echo on the empty church made them all jump. Sirius grabbed a few vials while
Remus ripped the sleeve to reveal the entire cut.
“How much does it hurt?” Remus asked.
“I've gotten hurt worse before,” Theo replied.
“That wasn’t my question.” Remus snapped, “And it’s not the reassurance you think it is.”
“It just burns,” Theo said, “But not the spell-burn burn, just normal slash-burn burn. You
know?”
Remus’ face got even darker with the small nod he gave, “I hate that you know the
difference.”
“So prepare for the potion-burn burn,” Sirius said as he poured a couple of drops on the
wound and Theo hissed in gritted teeth. And then he let out a string of swear words, cursing
Bellatrix’ entire family line and the next. “Knock it off, I’m somewhere in there.”
“What happened?” Remus asked. He had a hand on Theo’s hair, massaging his scalp. The
gash was closing now and the blood had been wiped out with a neat Tergeo.
“She did that serpentine spell of hers, the lashing one towards us both, he warded most of it
with a shield, but his arm got hit. She cast it and disapparated with Rodolphus, he was
dying.” Sirius explained and huffing, put the things away, “This is fucked up. Did you hear
her taunt? This is why the fucker never sends her, she keeps spilling the secrets. They have a
way to find us.”
“But how?” Remus asks, “And how long until they come firing in here again? We can’t keep
moving in this pace. We will be left in the open soon.”
“I don’t know Moony. Do they need some time? Are they improving it? They needed an
entire night the first time and then a few hours now. What makes the trigger?”
“Ask Narcissa,” Remus told her, “She can find out. Or Severus can.”
Hermione nodded. They keep finding us, Hermione sent. We don’t know what to do.
They’ve Tabooed a word. Narcissa sent it back, I don’t know what it is. Only the trackers
know. I will find out.
Thank you,
Are you safe now, my darling?
Yes, Aunt Cissy,
“They've Tabooed a word,” Hermione said out loud. Sirius groaned and kicked the side of
another pew, “She doesn’t know which one yet, but she will try to find out.”
“What does that mean?” Harry asked.
“It’s a sick spell,” Sirius said, “Mother used to keep me from saying Gryffindor under our
roof. I’d get a cut every time I spoke it. I bet this was Bella’s idea. Sicko was always laughing
at me because of it. They changed it of course, they must have made the word traceable.”
“So we stay quiet?” Theo asked.
“We stay quiet.” Remus said.
“Fuck that,” Sirius said, and then conjured the same words with his wand.
Theo chuckled and Hermione felt the bond, the release of tension from Remus.
They tried to get comfortable. The church wasn’t a big one, just a handful of pews on each
side, the saints and paintings on the wall had bullets and burn marks on them. It looked like it
had been ransacked at least a couple of times. The altar looked like it had been left empty
years ago.
“Where are we?” Theo asked, looking around, “What is this place?”
“A church,” Remus explained and Hermione realised that pureblood Theodore Nott hadn’t
ever been inside a Catholic Church in his life. “The muggles who believe have abandoned
this one because they think it’s not sacred ground anymore.”
“And why is that?” Hermione asked with a frown. She hadn’t grown up catholic but she
knew what ‘not sacred ground’ meant when it came to religious places.
“I did some moons here after the war. The sounds at night weren’t very holy.”
Harry looked around, “but where?”
“In the tower. We’ve placed the wards on the door so I wouldn’t be able to leave during the
night. But we couldn’t do anything about the noise, he needed the bell.”
“We?” Harry asked again.

“The priest here was a muggleborn wizard. Had a hell of a time coming to terms with magic
once he got his letter. Family kicked him out, all of that. This church was his family’s. He
finished Hogwarts and returned to find his parents gone. They’d left the village and told all
sorts of stories about him in the years he had been away. He never got to hold a mass in here,
no one would come, and then when I found my way here, no one even dared to climb up the
path here from the village.”
“I'm going to see if I can find anything to transfigure into a pillow of sorts, don’t reminisce
too much, we don’t want visitors.” Sirius said. He offered them a grin but it was just as fake
as his tone. Sirius never took well any mention of the years Remus had spent the full moon
alone.
Remus watched him go up to the front of the church in silent and then turned to Theo. He
patted his thigh and helped the boy move around in the pew, getting him to lay down with his
head on his thigh. Hermione and Harry sat on the pew in front of them.
They were exhausted and their bellies rumbled, because once more they had left without
eating. She didn’t intend to fall asleep, but she must have done, because when she blinked
again, the night had fallen outside and she had been moved to another pew, who had gotten
some cushioning. She turned to the side and saw Harry still fast asleep behind her and Theo
had a hand dangling off his pew.
Hermione sat up and looked around, finding Sirius and Remus sat together a couple of rows
to the front. Sirius had his head thrown back, seemingly asleep, while Remus looked straight
ahead towards the empty altar. She allowed her body to lay back down, knowing that she’d
be safe with him standing guard, and closed her eyes again.
***
It took three days of almost complete silence, non-verbal spells and dog visits to the village
until she heard from Narcissa again.
“It's You-Know-Who’s name,” Hermione said, catching their attention at once. Sirius and
Harry had been reading the muggle paper to see if any magical disturbance had gotten the
news in the muggle world - it had. “The taboo word. It’s his name. That’s how they found
us.”
“Fuck, it’s brilliant,” Remus said. “Only the Order Members use the name and—Shit. We
have to warn them.” He said, “They are easy targets like this.”
“But how?” Sirius asked and then frowned, “You can’t be thinking of finding them!”
“Sirius…”
“You don’t even know where they are! You will have to move to multiple places before you
can find them! It’s risky.” He said and then swore lowly, “Fuck, don’t make me be the bad
guy here.”
“It’s because of me they are in danger,” Harry spoke up, his face determined, “I—Everyone
who was in the D.A began to call him by his name because I did—”
"Oh please,” Hermione snapped, “It’s not your fault, how many times do we need to repeat
this? You were not the only one. I was the one to tell them that fear of the name only
increases fear of the thing itself. Shacklebolt, Mr Weasley and the others did it because of
Dumbledore. The. War. Is. Not. Your. Fault.”
“I don’t care!” Harry snapped, “Twice in as many days they came after us and we didn’t
leave unscathed the last time. We don’t know if they have been luckier, we don’t know if
something already happened to them, we don’t know anything! We are doing puzzles in a
muggle newspaper because it’s the only news we’ve got! They need to know this. We are
already doing nothing, we can’t also withhold information like this.”
“I never said we shouldn’t tell them,” Hermione replied and Harry glared at her.
Sirius sighed, “I will go.” Remus opened his mouth to argue, “I can hide better as Padfoot. I
already did once.”
Remus worked his mouth, but acquiesced, he walked towards Sirius, running a hand over the
other man’s arm and chest, “Promise me you—”
“I will be fine, Moony.”
“If you find Death Eaters, don’t… Don’t engage or provoke them, just—”
“I will be fine,” Sirius repeated, placing his hands on Remus’ cheeks.
“—come back to me.”
“You weren’t this soft on me before,” he tried to joke, but Remus only scowled.
“I hadn’t lost you once before.”
“You are not going to lose me,” Sirius replied, “I made you a promise, remember?”
Remus nodded, “The safe houses we talked about with Kingsley before we left, try them
first.”
“All right,” He said, “Take care of our pups while I’m gone. Don’t indulge them too much.”
“You are the over-indulgent one,” Remus said with an eye roll.
Sirius smirked and pressed a quick kiss to remus’ lips before turning to the three of them,
“Behave, all right?” They nodded. “I will be back as soon as I can.”
“Send news,” Harry said and Sirius messed up his hair.
***
“What are we going to do when the moon comes?” Theo asked on the third day without
Sirius. “Dad won’t let Sirius go with him if it means we are by ourselves.”
They had climbed up to the mezzanine where the Organ used to stand and they had an
obstructed view of Remus’ pacing. Sirius had sent news, he was fine, but finding them was
proving to be a bit harder than expected.
“I’ve been thinking about this,” Hermione said. “We have ten days to the next one. We don’t
have any wolfsbane with us and I don’t think we will find any in three days.”
“Do you think Sirius might try to get some?” Harry asked.
Hermione nodded, “He will certainly try. But it’s not an easy potion to find or to brew. Dad
probably has it, but how can we get it?”
Theo shrugged, “Through Narcissa would be the obvious answer, and then what? Get an elf
to bring it to us? They have their magic, but Adeodatus used to give them orders to only obey
him. V—You-Know-Who is staying at the Manor, they have dozen of elves, I doubt he’d
allow them to run errands without him knowing all about it.”
“There's Dobby,” Harry said, “he likes doing things for me and he was a Malfoy elf, he
knows the place. He could do it.”
“It's worth a try,” Theo said, “But… I can’t stop thinking about something else. Something
that would not only help during the full moon but in our life as fugitives of the law.”
“I've been thinking about it too,” Hermione said, “Since the George mentioned it.”
“Becoming Animagi,” Hermione replied.
“Really?” Harry asked, “Sirius told me the process, it sounded extremely difficult.”
“And it is,” Hermione agreed, “But they did it. He knows the process and where we can get
the stuff we needed. But I think the most difficult part would be convincing Remus. And it
would be great to start the Mandrake leaf part with the upcoming moon.”
“Dad is one as well,” Harry added, “I don’t think I mentioned, did I?” Hermione shook her
head, her eyes wide, “He's a bat. I found out the day he showed up in my room.”
“We can ask Dobby to bring us both the wolfsbane and the Mandrake leaves.” Theo
suggested.
Hermione was nodding, “If we all manage to do it… Greyback won’t be able to hurt Remus
like he did during the full moon in June.”
“Well, should we ask Dobby, then?” Harry asked.
“Don’t do it here in the open,” Theo said, “Pretend you are gonna take a piss or something.”
Harry rolled his eyes, but got to his feet with a show, “I have to pee, don’t save the world
without me.”
Remus looked up, Harry’s tone had carried through the church.
“Come,” Hermione said to Theo, pulling him to his feet with her, “Let's talk to Remus.”
Harry had disappeared in the corridor that led to what had been private quarters of the people
who lived in the church. Remus saw the two of them coming and opened his mouth, but Theo
was quicker, “I really don’t need to hold his dick while he pees, Dad.”
Remus rolled his eyes, “You had such beautiful vocabulary when I met you.”
Theo grinned, “I spoke like a seventy year old posh bastard.”
“Now you speak like a sailor,”
“And speaking of… speaking…” Hermione said and Theo snorted, Remus frowned and
sniffed. She pretended to not notice. “We never finished the conversation about the Elder
Wand. And I’ve been thinking about it.”
“What are you up to?” He asked.
“What?” She asked, faking confusion, “The wand… Because since Ollivanders has been
taken and…”
“Hermione.”
She groaned, “Don’t tell me you smell trouble again!”
“In fact I do. Where’s Harry?” He asked.
“Peeing…” Theo began, “But he’s been taking a long time, maybe he’s taking a shit?”
“Harry!” Remus called, ignoring them and walking towards where Harry had disappeared.
They quickly followed behind and soon the three of them were inside the communal
restroom. They entered just as Harry flushed the toilet and opened the door. He rolled his
eyes, “What? I’m going to wash my hands.”
“Knock it out, the three of you.” He said, “What is it?”
“Nothing.” They replied. “Harry wanted to use the restroom and I remembered that we got
interrupted while discussing something really important.”
“Can we leave the restroom now?” Theo asked and grabbed both her and Harry’s arm with
him.
“The wand thing?” Harry asked Hermione as Theo led them out, “Yes. We should talk about
it, because as I had been saying, it makes sense that he wants a new one. Remember the
graveyard?” They nodded, “Our wands did that weird thing where they got connected—”
“The Priori Incantatem,” Remus added with a sigh. He was still eyeing them suspiciously, but
clearly decided to let it go for now, after all, he hadn’t gotten any proof.
“Yeah, that.” Harry said, “Dumbledore told me then it was because our wands were twins and
didn’t want to fight one another, but I think the truth had to do with the fact that I was an
Horcrux and he didn’t want to tell me that. Remember the whole prophecy thing where
‘neither can live while the other survives’? That.”
“But you don’t have the Horcrux anymore,” Remus said, “If it was the Horcrux inside you,
then Vo—Fuck—You-Know-Who should have been able to overpower you the night you
were moved.” He said, “Unbeknown to him, he’s not striking to kill himself when he fires at
you anymore.”
“I know. But it was different this time. I thought it over while we were discussing the Elder
Wand… And I think I know what happened. We both fired at the same time and they
connected, but not like the graveyard, just… You know, like tug of war?” He asked and
Remus nodded, “He wasn’t using his wand. I—He had it pressed against my skin more than
once, I can recognise it. He used someone else’s.”
“That's why he got Ollivanders kidnapped,” Hermione said, “He wanted to understand why
he couldn’t attack you with his original one. Ollivanders must have told him about them
being twins and he changed it.”
“He must have. It was black and had a silvery thing at the bottom, something flashy, like a
—”
“A snake?” Hermione asked.
“Yeah.”
“It's Lucius’. He used Lucius’ wand.”
“Well, I destroyed it then,” Harry said easily, “But not because I overpowered him because I
was stronger or Lucius’ wand was weaker, but because he got scared. He saw the wands
connecting and I could see the emotion in his face. He wasn’t expecting it.”
“But had he controlled his reaction,” Remus began, “If the fight had extended longer…
because you told us right after that you crossed the wards to Andromeda’s place, do you think
you would be able to hold him off?”
“I don’t know,” Harry said honestly, “I was up in the air… I—it didn’t feel like the previous
encounters. Like they were bonded, I think—maybe? Because he seemed weaker.”
Remus nodded, “Then he is.” He said, “He only got scared because he is weaker. And he felt
that. He hasn’t fought in a duel since the Ministry, I doubt that torturing his followers gets
him sweating. He still had most of his Horcruxes the last time he actively fought. And that
had been Dumbledore. He only has one left, he is weaker than before. We are lucky that he’s
focusing on the wand in his hand and not on checking on his Horcruxes.”
“Do you think he’s going to make anot?her one if he finds out the others are destroyed?”
Hermione asked.
“I think he will most certainly try. But I don’t think his soul will resist.” He replied, “It
already splintered on its own when he tried to kill Harry as a baby, that’s how fragmented it
was.”
“Ollivanders would know about the Elder Wand, right?” Theo asked. “So we can assume that
since Lucius’ didn’t work, he might ask for a stronger one and Ollivanders might tell him the
story.” They all nodded. “We can only hope it’s better hidden than the other two.”
***
They had overtaken the Ministry, Severus saw with his own eyes the torture that befell Rufus
Scrimgeour and heard the information they got from him. They learned that Dumbledore had
left things for Hermione, Harry and Ron in his will. Things that didn’t make sense to any of
them, but which clearly meant Dumbledore expected something of those three.
Severus didn’t bother much with that information, because he knew the hunt for the
Horcruxes wasn’t a hunt anymore - not when he got to stare at the last one on a daily - and
because wherever his children had gone, Ron Weasley hadn’t gone with them.
Pius Thicknesse was properly Imperiused and placed as the new Minister and Voldemort had
placed some of his Death Eaters back in their jobs. Lucius, McNair, Crabbe, Goyle and
Yaxley had all been pardoned overnight and retook their positions. Well, Lucius now had a
proper job as well as new wand.
Voldemort had assigned Dolohov, Mulciber, Rockwood, Rodolphus and Bellatrix to a secret
mission that kept the five of them in a room for an entire night where one could occasionally
hear Bellatrix cackles.
The first morning of August arrived with the announcement of a new organisation, funded by
the ministry with the purpose of rounding up Undesirables: muggle-borns, blood traitors and
members of the Order of the Phoenix. Out of nowhere, Dolohov cackled and with a shout of
“It works!”, he left the Manor with Mulciber.
Severus looked around curiously, but of the people present, only Bellatrix and Rockwood
seemed to know what had happened, as both had matching wicked expressions on their faces.
A happy Bellatrix Lestrange was never a good omen. A happy Bellatrix and Dolohov
certainly was the premise of something terrible.
He lingered in the drawing room, not having anything to do at the moment and anxious to
know where Dolohov and Mulciber had gone that had made Bellatrix grin like that.
Voldemort was gone, off to somewhere in a quest of his own.
Narcissa came down, regal as always, and greeted them good morning as she passed by,
ignoring her sister as she went.
Not even an hour passed before the main doors opened again. Bellatrix shot to her feet,
asking questions anxiously, but both Dolohov and Mulciber blinked emptily at her, seemingly
confused. Dolohov was bleeding, he had a nasty bite on his shoulder and it made Severus’
skin crawl as there was one specific dog that bit.
“They've been Obliviated,” Rockwood noted.
“So they found them!” Bellatrix said shrilly.
Narcissa walked in, “Bella, please, the tone.”
“Sister!” Bellatrix replied in the same tone, “Our Lord gave us a task and we’ve been
successful!”
Narcissa looked around and arched an eyebrow, “I don’t see the Potter boy dead on my floor,
so I fail to see where is your success.” Charming.
Bellatrix scowled at her youngest sister and turned to Severus, “Get their memories back!”
“Are you ordering me?” He asked her. “You forget your place.”
“My place is to serve the Dark Lord. Their memories serve the Dark Lord. We must know
who they found and if our spell worked.”
“And what spell is this?”
She smirked, “Don't you want to know?”
Severus turned to Dolohov and pointed his wand at the man’s forehead, he entered the man’s
mind, not bothering to be careful and sorted through his memories. Someone had indeed
erased his most recent ones, but the job had been done quickly and not very precise, so it was
easy to get them back, specially because the memories were laced with fear from the caster.
He saw them, Dolohov and Mulciber, Apparating on the foot of the hill that surrounded
Hogsmeade village and walking towards an old path. As they went up, Dolohov spotted a
dog coming down, he kicked some stones at the animal, but Severus knew at once who was
that black dog.
Sirius jumped onto Mulciber, yanking on the man’s arm and throwing the wand to the floor,
Dolohov cast an spell that went inches over Sirius, which made the dog growl and attack him
instead. The jump had been precise, throwing Dolohov to the ground and landing on the
man’s chest. The dog removed the mask with his teeth, Severus felt Dolohov’s panic at the
sight of the huge yellow eyes on him. Sirius bit and Dolohov screamed in pain.
The Death Eater’s vision had whitened and he only heard the noise of others coming into the
fray. Severus heard Hermione’s voice attacking Mulciber and could also hear Remus, Harry
and Theodore.
Severus pulled away and Dolohov fell to his knees, gripping his head with his hands.
“They found the boy.” Severus announced and Bellatrix twirled in joy, “The wolf, the girl
and the Nott boy were with him. They had the advantage of their hiding place. Dolohov and
Mulciber were spotted before they spotted them.”
“And the neck?” Rockwood asked, “It looks like his neck has been bitten!”
Severus nodded, “The wolf did.”
Bellatrix scowled, “And my cousin? Has the coward left his little family already?”
“He wasn’t there in the memory.” Severus replied.
“At least we know it works.” Rockwood commented and helped Dolohov to his feet, “You
should clean this shit.”
“No shit,” Dolohov retorted and slapped Rockwood’s hand away.
“If you could use the guest bathroom on the ground floor, I’d appreciate it, Antonin, you are
dripping on my marble,” Narcissa said, her smile fixed on her face.
“Of course, my lady.”
Narcissa nodded her thanks and turned to the rest of them, “If you excuse me, I’m going to
my Morning Room. Severus? Would you make me some company? I’m eager to know your
plans now that you will be taking the Headmaster’s position.”
Severus followed her, leaving Bellatrix, Mulciber and Rockwood behind. He began talking
about Hogwarts, his plans were nothing more than what Voldemort had decided to do with
the school. Removing Muggle Studies - the professor was dead - and renaming the Defence
course to just Dark Arts. There would be no letters to muggle born students this year and
some of Umbridge’s old rules would be returning.
There was an elf already in the room, preparing Narcissa’s tea and placing the morning
Prophet and a book on the coffee table. “Mistress things are ready,”
“Thank you, Dipsy,” Narcissa said, “If you could bring Severus some coffee.”
“Dipsy will be back right away!”
“Are they alright?” Narcissa asked once the elf popped away. Severus nodded, “Don’t tell
Draco, he’s anxious as it is.”
“Do you know where our Lord has gone?”
She shook her head, “He’s after something. He was questioning the wandmaker before he
left. He will soon need another wandmaker if he intends to have another wand. I don’t see
Ollivander making any more in his current state.”
“Do you have access to his cell? I could brew him something.”
She waved him off, “I've done it already. He didn’t trust me much at the beginning so I made
him drink it.”
“I don’t believe such methods help improve trust.”
“I don’t care about trust,” She replied simply, “I care about the number of ghosts I’m going to
have in my house after this.” Narcissa said, twisting her lips in displeasure.
He looked away, he still remembered Charity’s voice, begging his help, calling him friend.
The way her eyes had glistered with tears and her face was purple and swollen from the cuts
and bruises the Death Eaters had given her. He had done nothing, had stood still and watched
and he hated himself for it. Sixteen years teaching at Hogwarts and for the first time, he
dreaded the first of September like nothing else.
Attendance was now mandatory for everyone who wasn’t a muggleborn, making it the most
dangerous school year to date. The Gryffindors would be the biggest targets, but he also
worried about his students, the ones who would be at risk just as much as the Weasley kids.
The Zabini boy, Miss Parkinson and Miss Greengrass. His daughter’s best friends.
They fell into silence, neither of them were the kind of people who felt the need to talk about
things, specially when they were grim as they were. They both knew whatever spell the
others had developed was dangerous and it was essential that they found exactly what it was,
so they didn’t waste time talking about it. They both knew Draco loathed every second he
had to spend hanging out with Vincent and Gregory because they would be brought into the
ranks before September, so he didn’t ask about it. Instead, Severus perused the newspaper
once Narcissa finished reading it.
It didn’t matter how much they didn’t talk about things or voiced their worries, because they
could never be too far from it, not when Bellatrix could be heard across the Manor screaming
bloody murder and using Bombarda to open Narcissa’s door, splintering the wood and
sending vases down. The scene came at him in pieces, the explosion, Bellatrix’s wide eyes
and the blood around her.
And then the dying body of her husband being dragged by her and Dolohov, who had burns
all over his face.
Narcissa jumped to her feet, asking questions, certainly more worried about the bloody path
Rodolphus caused from the foyer to where they were.
“That's your spell!” Bellatrix shrieked the obvious, for Severus was already kneeling down
next to Rodolphus, casting the counter curse.
"Did you Apparate with him?” He hissed.
“Yes!” She snapped, “It was your spell the Nott boy used! How did he know your spell, huh?
Been teaching the—”
“Be quiet if you want me to save your husband,” he said and continued working. Rodolphus
had already lost too much blood and his arm was nowhere to be seen, most definitely
splinched on the way. “Cissy, I need some blood replenishing potion…”
She quickly Accioed the vials to her hand and kneeled down to pour it down her brother-in-
law’s throat. Merlin, what a family.
Bellatrix was going off, saying how she’d exploded the house they had been in, how Sirius -
oh, how she wanted him dead - was honouring the family at last with the spells he cast. “And
that daughter of yours!” She screamed, waving her wand and breaking the window with a
ball of fire. Outside, the peacocks screamed and flew away. “Look at Antonin! Burned him,
that’s what she did!”
“The brat sent a pot of soup flying in my face!” Dolohov said, Rockwood once more tending
to Dolohov’s injuries.
Oh, how he loved her.
Rodolphus was unconscious, but he would live. He had stopped the curse and cauterised his
wounds. There would be no salvaging his arm and Severus hoped he never learned how to
cast with his other hand.
“I swear, the next time they break the Taboo I’m going to bring that girl’s head! I’m using it
as a hat holder!”
Severus tensed and Narcissa looked at him with wide eyes. A Taboo. That was how they
were finding them.
Narcissa made a small sound next to him and he recognised it as Hermione calling through
the bond. He stared at her, waiting.
“How is he?” Bellatrix asked, “Have I become a widow?” Severus noted how she sounded
eager.
“Safe,” Narcissa said, eyes locked on his, “He is safe now.”
He nodded. Severus got to his feet and cleaned his hands and robes, “Take him to his rooms,
he may need some more blood replenishing potion in an hour or so.”
Bellatrix levitated her husband and left the room, still muttering under her breath. Severus
turned to Dolohov, who was hissing and scowling at Rockwood, “I have salve for burns, it
will help with the pain.”
“Causing her pain will help me with mine,” he snarled.
“I'm sure other opportunities will arise,” Severus replied.
“You bet,” He said, “Let's go Augustus, we might get another shot at them today again. Call
Adeodatus, he’d love to say hello to his son.” He pulled Rockwood along as they stepped
over the broken door.
And because Bellatrix had caused a hole in the wall, they could hear them from the corridor.
“Are we telling the Dark Lord about—?”
“Are you mad? Twice they broke the Taboo and twice we’ve let them escape.”
Still not speaking a word, Narcissa and Severus worked into repairing the room. Narcissa’s
hands were trembling and after a moment, he stopped her with a hand on her elbow, “Cissy.”
“We need to find out what word they have used, she felt terrified Severus, we didn’t even
know they had left again. We—”
“If we don’t find out before then… The Dark Lord is returning soon, he will want to hold a
meeting. We can let it slip that they’ve failed twice and they might slip the word.”
Narcissa nodded, “They need a place under the Fidelius,” she said. “It’s the only spell that
will keep them safe if the word is spoken.”
“I will work on it.”
In order to try and learn what word they had used, Narcissa took to spending more time with
her sister, which was painful to watch, but certainly not as painful as doing it. Severus
decided it was time to talk to his old friend under the pretence of creating new spells just like
they used to do during their school years.
But it was fruitless. On the second day he and Narcissa decided to try Legilimency, but no
matter how many times they hinted at the topic in different and inconspicuous ways, the word
didn’t come to the forefront of their minds. Any deeper foray, the Dark Lord would notice the
intrusion once he decided to invade their minds to his pleasure. Veritasserum had been their
next option, but Lucius stopped them before Narcissa could ask Dipsy to pour a drop or two
into their wine.
“He will know,” Lucius told him as he put salve on Abigail’s neck. He had been possessed
when he learned his sister-in-law had hurt two of his precious peacocks with her tantrum.
Severus was now revisiting his opinion on the upcoming school year, because using his
creations to heal Lucius’ peacocks was too much. “I've ordered them to relay everything that
is asked to him.” Lucius said, “If you ask Dipsy, she will feel obligated to tell him.”
Thankfully, his daughter’s group hadn’t broken the taboo again. He had waited in cold sweat
when Mulciber and Rockwood left, but it had one of the Weasleys, who had managed to
narrowly escape them.
Voldemort returned on the third day and as expected, he called for all of them. Draco returned
with Vincent and Greg, who were both terrified and terrible at pretending otherwise. The
table was full, everyone who was marked had a seat. Narcissa, to Bellatrix roaring jealousy,
was offered the honour because Voldemort didn’t deem Pettigrew worthy of a seat.
Standing around the table alongside Pettigrew were the werewolf, the new recruits to be
initiated and a man called Scabior.
Voldemort didn’t tell them where he had been or what he had been doing, after all, their
relationship wasn’t a reciprocal one.
He asked Lucius about the Ministry, who guaranteed that the transition had been complete
and they were ready for the next step. Yaxley was now the head of the new Auror department
which was focused on hunting down everyone who was against the new regime. The
Snatchers replaced the Aurors, gold motivated and mostly uneducated.
Voldemort was pleased, but Severus felt his anxiousness, whatever he had gone after hadn’t
been successful and Severus knew one of them would suffer for it. By Dolohov’s jitteriness,
someone felt the same.
“What happened to your arm, Rodolphus?” Voldemort asked.
“My Lord…” Rodolphus began and looked at his wife, who of course didn’t have eyes for
anyone but her Lord. “An accident only.”
He hissed and Nagini, who was suddenly on the table, making all of them flinch away from
the reptile, did the same. “Enlighten me Rodolphus, how has an accident taken your arm?”
“The Taboo worked, my Lord,” He spoke, “They dare and dare to say your name—” Severus
found Narcissa’s eyes, she gave him a small nod.
“They dare and dare and still, you are the one without an arm?” He asked. Nagini was now
posed in front of Rodolphus, her fangs ready.
“The boy used a dark curse, Snape’s curse.”
“Which boy?” Voldemort asked.
“The Nott boy, My Lord.” Bellatrix replied.
Adeodatus scowled, “He's no Nott. No son of mine, you should have killed him!”
Anything you’d like to share, uncle? Draco sent through the bond.
They are safe now
Draco yanked, making his anger clear, Fuck you.
They know about the Taboo.
His godson ignored him.
Rodolphus, Bellatrix, Mulciber and Dolohov tried to explain themselves, Rockwood had
been smart enough to not go to any of the calls and now couldn’t be blamed for their failure.
“I want her gone,” Voldemort announced and Severus felt the temperature dropping, his ears
rang and the pain in his chest found Draco’s on the other side. “This girl has obliviated,
burned and maimed my Death Eaters. Lucius,” he called.
“Yes, my Lord.”
“Starting tomorrow, the girl is the Undesirable Number One. The highest prize to whoever
brings me her head.”
“Of course, my Lord,” Lucius replied after a beat. Narcissa and Draco were both unmoving.
Severus couldn’t feel his heart beating. “And if you don’t mind me asking my Lord, what
about the boy?”
“If I have her, I have him.” Voldemort replied, “Harry has gone after a stone, friends’ sisters
and his godfather, he would come to me himself for her.”
Put that wand away right now, he sent to his godson. Severus’ chest had two heartbeats
inside, the manic, frantic beating of Draco’s, desperate and angry and so goddamned ready to
do something stupid, Don’t you dare leave her alone.
“Consider it done, my Lord.” Lucius replied. The man looked pale and if he would guess,
he’d say Narcissa was gripping her husband’s hand under the table viciously.
“You should be proud, Severus,” Voldemort leered, “Your daughter has gotten my attention.”
Severus occluded, made his mind a vast empty landscape, white and freezing, inhospitable,
“If I had known she’d be this trouble, I’d have taken care of her myself.”
Voldemort laughed, “If only had she shown her true colours before.”
“Indeed.”
Finally, finally, the meeting was over and most of them were dismissed. Bellatrix, Rodolphus,
Mulciber and Dolohov stayed and Severus heard the first scream before the doors were
closed. He walked quickly towards his rooms and the moment he was the one hidden behind
doors, he retched.
He was going to put every single ward and protection existent around his house, would cast
the Fidelius charm and get his kids there. He had half the mind to lock them in and only let
them out once Voldemort had died.
On the other side of the Manor, Draco was destroying his room in his rage.
Chapter End Notes
The title and quote at the beginning belongs to Battle, My Love by Circa Survive
Please let me know in the comments what you think! If you want, you can find me on
twitter it's moonyhoax.
in the past photo or in the mirror even now
Chapter Notes
Hello!! We are officially in the last three chapters of this story! I want to thank everyone
who has followed this from the beginning (2021 wth??), the people who joined halfway
through, those who are arriving now and those whoa have bookmarked this fic for when
it's done!
I hope you enjoy it!
Quantas mentiras você condenava?

Quantas você teve que cometer?
Quantos defeitos sanados com o tempo?
Eram o melhor que havia em você?
Chapter Seventy-Three
Severus blinked at the creature. No doubt it had stalked him to show up in the now rare times
he spent at his home. “Harry Potter sir has sent Dobby, Harry Potter is asking his dad for
help! And Harry Potter's sister is asking too!”
“What are they asking?”
“They is needing wolfsbane for their wolf and Harry Potter sir has asked Dobby to remember
his dad that it was Harry Potter's sister’s idea but they ask for mandrake’s leaves, yes, three of
them.”
Severus narrowed his eyes at the elf. With the wolfsbane, he could quickly agree and provide
them with what they needed. But the mandrake’s leaves… He knew of course what they
wanted to do with those and he felt divided. Surely, it was a great skill to have in their current
situation and Severus couldn’t be a hypocrite to deny them when he was an Animagi himself,
but… It was a dangerous process. And he wanted everything dangerous very far from his
kids.
Dobby had said dad twice, Harry has asked his dad, was it the elf or had Harry used the word
himself? And was he using it because that was how he saw Severus now or because he had
taken a page of his sister’s book?
Severus sighed, fatherhood had made him pathetic, “I will provide them what they need.” He
said and Dobby grinned. “Wait a moment.” He said and went to his lab.
It was perfect timing because he had just finished all the preparations to cast the Fidelius
charm and was about to do it when the elf interrupted him. He could give them the Secret
before the moon. Remus and Sirius could go wherever they went for Remus’ monthly
transformation and Severus would breathe easier knowing the kids would be safe.
Severus packed everything neatly, putting the wolfsbane into stasis and labelling for the
correct days of the upcoming week so Remus would drink them without any problems. He
also added the leaves and with a sigh, he added the other ingredient he had in hand as well—
Chrysalis of Death’s Head Hawk Moth.
“Here,” he told the elf, handing the bag. “Can I send a Patronus to where they are?” He
asked, “Is it safe?”
Dobby nodded, “Yes! They are safe.”
“You may go.”
Dobby disappeared and Severus set to work. He would make himself the Secret Keeper and
would only reveal the secret to them. He wouldn’t even reveal it to Narcissa, not the secret
nor that he had found a place for them.
His heart pounded in his chest as he did the enchantments around his house, soon he’d be in
Hogwarts, and soon he’d be a floo call away from his daughter and son. He missed Hermione
terribly, it was the longest he had spent without seeing her since she began her schooling.
And not even two months had passed since that night in the Astronomy tower.
Once everything was done - even adding one or two extra spells -, he cast his patronus and
watched as the silvery creature circled the living room, stepping over the sofa before sitting
on its back legs to look at him. “Severus Snape lives at Spinner’s End, number seventeen,
Cokeworth,” he told it. “Come, you will be safe here. Send it to Hermione Granger, Harry
Potter, Theodore Nott, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black.”
The creature nodded and vanished through the window.
He wanted to wait for them, to see her and gather her in his arms, but he knew he had stayed
away too long already. He had come to replace some of his ingredients, a quick trip, it
shouldn’t have taken this long. Sighing, he grabbed his things and left.
Narcissa was pacing the foyer when the elf opened the huge main doors to him. She sighed at
the sight of him and handed him his Death Eater cloak and mask. “They are waiting for you
in the Drawing Room. The boys are having their initiation today.”
Severus nodded and walked towards the room, putting his uniform on the way. Two more.
Still in Hogwarts with their entire lives ahead of them. Now, they would live it branded. He
opened the doors and greeted the crowd. Every marked death eater was present, in full robes
and masked.
Voldemort was in the middle of the room, on his throne with Nagini around him. Vincent
Crabbe and Gregory Goyle were on their knees in front of their Lord, waiting for the
ceremony. Everyone else was in a circle around the two boys. It had been a while since
Severus had seen the full circle. Bellatrix stood to the right of the throne, Nott and Avery
came next, then the Lestrange brothers, Dolohov and Mulciber, followed by Rockwood,
Yaxley, Rowle, Pettigrew, Travers, Jugson, Crabbe, Goyle, McNair, Sewlyn, the Carrow
twins, Draco - where Barty Jr used to stand -, Lucius and the last, empty place that belonged
to Severus, on Voldemort’s left side.
“We were waiting for you, Severus.”
“Apologies, My Lord. Some of the ingredients you require have to be handled very
carefully.”
“Come, let’s begin then.” He said and stood, tallest than all of them and walked past all of his
followers. As he walked, the light dimmed in the room, leaving only a few flickering candles,
which cast eerie shadows against the stone walls and floor. “We have reunited here today to
welcome two more into our fold. Here with us, we introduce Vincent Crabbe and Gregory
Goyle, the new generation of purebloods that will honour our traditions. The House of
Crabbe and the House of Goyle have proved their worth once more, giving us more of our
superior magical blood that will uphold our ways and embrace our purpose.”
Voldemort stopped in front of the pair, “Are you ready to follow and serve me until the end of
your lives?”
“Yes,” they echoed.
“Are you ready to relinquish your desires and abide by mine, becoming my devoted servant,
serving me without doubts or restrictions?”
“Yes.”
“Give me your arm,” Voldemort ordered and he watched in silence as the two boys, whom
he’d known their entire lives, had taught and punished them for the past six years, offered
their life willingly.
Voldemort removed the dagger from his robes and gripped Vincent’s wrist with his long bony
fingers. He drew the dagger down, cutting vertically into the inside of the boy’s arm. Vincent
screamed in pain but made no motion to pull his arm away. Voldemort pressed his new wand
to the centre of the cut, blood dripping from the gash and painting the boy’s arm and pants
crimson. He began the incantation, a series of words in Parselmouth that Nagini echoed in a
fevered crescendo that left their ears ringing and their blood coiling.
Vincent screamed and his other hand gripped tightly on his thigh, trying to find hold of the
relentless pain. From where he stood, Severus could see the mark taking form, the cut
twisting and darkening, becoming the horrendous tattoo they all bore.
“Stand,” Vincent did, “Welcome Vincent Crabbe, to my Death Eaters.”
Voldemort sounded… Almost breathless. Severus took note of the man’s stance, the slight
sway on the next step, and the minimal pause before he turned to Gregory Goyle. Nagini
hissed something and Voldemort scowled before replying in Parseltongue.
Severus could only see Voldemort’s back, but he paid attention to the man’s body, to the
sluggishness of his movements as he grabbed Gregory's wrist and repeated the process.
Gregory screamed and trembled, but Voldemort sweated. The back of his bald and pale head
shone with perspiration as he voiced the incantations. Severus wondered if anyone else had
noted how Nagini had begun repeating his words sooner, how she seemed to be helping him.
“S-sstand,” He said, the Parseltongue slowly becoming English. “Welcome Gregory Goyle,
to my Death Eaterss-ss.”
Voldemort turned and returned to his throne, where he sat down and immediately had Nagini
around his shoulders, wrapping herself around him, hiding his laboured breath from view.
Lord Voldemort was weak.
His body failed him and the two-sevenths of his soul couldn’t handle the consequences of the
dark spell used to create the Dark Mark.
He won’t be branding anyone in public again. Draco sent, the pleasure in his tone was almost
palpable.
No, he won’t, Severus agreed.
Voldemort spoke again, “To finish the initiation ceremony and be given your masks, you will
have your first mission.” The boys nodded, neither of them had dared to touch their now
branded arms, but Severus knew they wanted to, he still remembered the burn and the sting
that followed the mark for the first few days. There would be no soothing potion or salve to
alleviate that pain. The only thing they could do was hope to not fall mad because of it.
“Bring me the muggles who live at Number 8 Heathgate, Hamstead Garden Suburb in
London.”
Severus’ body froze and his stomach dropped. He knew that address. He’d been to that
address.
“Yes, my Lord.” They said.
“Draco,” Voldemort called and the boy stepped forward. “Go with them. You will like what
you find there.”
“Thank you, my Lord.” He replied, “We will leave at once.”
Voldemort smiled.
The boy called Vincent and Gregory to follow him and Severus told him the truth through the
bond.
It’s her house, Severus sent. Draco’s step faltered. Hermione’s muggle parents live there.
***
“So… We can explain,” Hermione began, Dobby had dropped their things right in front of
Remus and he was currently looking at the three of them with an eyebrow raised in question.
She continued, “The moon is coming. We know it sucks as it is and we didn’t want you to
have a harder time with it.”
A fond look appeared in his features, “I appreciate it,” He replied. “And the rest?”
They exchanged glances. She sighed, “Well, Theo—”
At the same time, Theo said, “Hermione—”
They gasped at one another, “It was your idea!” They said at the same time.
Harry sniggered, “Well, they decided to become Animagi and—”
“No.”
“We can hide better!” She said.
“No way.”
“We can spend the moon with you!” Theo said.
“Remus, please.” Hermione asked, “Sirius already did it, he can help us. It will be completely
safe. And Dad already got us some of what we need. Which means we have his approval.
And we are over age.”
“There's nothing I can do about you, but—”
“Oh, come on!” Theo groaned, “I'm over age too! And it can be a bonding thing between
father and son! You’ve missed some formative years of my life, I—”
“Good lord, you are such a bulshitter master of chaos.”
Theo grinned proudly, “So, that’s a yes?”
Remus huffed, “That's a yes—” Theo cheered, “and I will be rooting for your animal to be a
caterpillar.”
Harry laughed, throwing his head back and all, Theo ignored him, just shrugged and
plastered the most annoying smile known to mankind, “I wouldn’t worry about that. There’s
nothing small about me.”
Remus shook his head in exasperation, “You know what, ask that elf for some food, if I have
to listen to you guys’ nonsense alone, I will do it with a full stomach.”
They did and Dobby brought them a meal worth of Hogwarts that they could finally enjoy.
While they ate - Harry and Theo even had food in their mouth - they tried to guess what
animals they’d be. Remus told them that it was common to have one’s Patronus reflect one’s
Animagus, but not always, “See your father for example, his Animagus is a bat, and for the
longest time, his Patronus was a Doe, like Lily’s had been. It changed a few years ago, it’s
now a grey wolf. Sirius is a dog and his patronus is the same animal as his animagus form,
but for a while his patronus changed, it became my wolf, so while your Patronus is mostly
related to your emotions, your Animagus is truly who you are.”
“It would be nice to have my Patronus as my animagus,” Harry said, a wistful look on his
face.
Remus hummed, “I admit I’d be curious to see how the wolf would react to it if it were.
Prongs was bigger than the wolf and I remember they telling me in the beginning that I didn’t
have much patience for his prancing.”
Harry chuckled.
“And how was it with Padfoot?” Hermione asked, “He's a canine as well.”
She saw his cheeks reddening a bit and tried to hide a gin, “Well, it was complicated at first.”
Theo snorted, “The wolf was sniffing Padfoot’s balls before you got to confess to Sirius,
wasn’t it?” Harry and Hermione snickered and it only escalated when they saw the redness on
Remus’ face spreading even more.
“The wolf did seem more aware of things than I, yes.” Remus relented, and shot a look
towards Theo, “But nothing of the sort. He was possessive of Padfoot from the beginning and
tried to bite him a couple of times. He recognised Padfoot as his mate at once and when
Sirius and I figured things out, Padfoot—he submitted and then we didn’t have any more
problems.”
“It must be so cool,” Theo said, “I can’t wait.”
Remus brushed some of the curls in Theo’s head, “I will be able to remember it,” he said with
a fond look at them, “When the for of us used to spend the moon together, I wasn’t on
Wolfsbane and I had no memory of what happened, they always had to tell me what
happened. But now, it will be really me with you.”
A silvery thing entered the church through the window and they jumped. It was a grey wolf,
it circled all of them, going as far as rubbing its snout on her legs. She giggled and recognised
it as her dad’s Patronus.
The animal opened its mouth and his voice came out, “Severus Snape lives at Spinner’s End,
number seventeen, Cokeworth. Come, you will be safe here.”
They all looked at one another. Hermione’s heart hammering in her chest. She could go there
again. They all could. Her bedroom. A bed. A proper shower. A perfect place to do the
necessary transfiguration for the Animagus process.
Remus took a deep breath and exhaled it, with it a lot of his worries could be seen leaving his
body, “This is really good news.” He said, “I was going to lock myself up there in the tower
and even with the wolfsbane, the wolf hates it when he gets locked up. I was—worried about
upsetting you three.”
***
“Should we go then?” Sirius asked two days later. He had returned after successfully warning
everyone about the Taboo. He had found Shacklebolt first, who then helped him go to the
others. They were working on a radio programme to share news about the war, as they
couldn’t trust any newspaper anymore, so Sirius had also brought back a radio that he
grabbed at Grimmauld Place. The programme wasn’t on yet, but they should tap their wands
on top of the radio and say the first password - Moody - to tune in.
Hermione was excited to hear it, it would be great to have a more constant flow of
information. As they were, they only had news from the muggle clippings or when Narcissa
shared some piece of information - which was almost never.
“Yes,” Remus replied, he had taken the first dose that night, in preparation for the full moon
in seven days. “Everyone has everything?” They nodded, “All right. Harry, Theo and I will
apparate first under the Cloak. I know you’ve been there before Harry, but it’s better if you
Side-Apparate with me because I want us to land on the threshold in case there’s anyone
around.” Harry nodded and gripped Remus’ elbow, Theo was on the other side. “I will then
return with the cloak for you two.”
Hermione and Sirius didn’t have to wait long, not even three minutes had passed before
Remus was back and they were squeezing through space.
“—like I’m on his brain, or something.” She got the tail end of Theo’s sentence when they
opened the door.
Sirius twitched his nose, “The things I’m doing these days. Honestly.” And then proceeded to
knock his shoes off by the door. He looked at how they had fallen, one sideways and the
other upside down and curled the corner of his lips, “You know what? I actually feel great!"
“Behave,” Remus admonished and Harry chuckled. “Where are the rooms?”
“Through here,” Hermione said and everyone followed her. “This is my bedroom and the
door next to it is to the bathroom, the other room there is his office and the stairs lead to his
potions lab downstairs. I’m guessing the door at the end of the corridor is to his bedroom. I
don’t know if it’s an en-suite or not.”
Remus was being very respectful of Severus’ space, while Sirius and the boys were leaning
in every door to see the inside.
Sirius walked towards the end of the corridor and turned the doorknob, only to be stopped by
an invisible barrier that kept him from entering. “What the—” he said in surprise. “I can’t get
in!” He turned to Remus, “Moony! I can’t get in!”
“I see that,” Remus replied amusedly, and walked himself towards the bedroom, being
stopped just like Sirius had been. He tilted his head to the side and snorted. “Hermione, come
here.” She did and differently than the other two, she had no problem getting in. Remus
rolled his eyes. Sirius made a sound of offence. “Harry, Theo. Your turn.”
They exchanged glances and followed Hermione inside, both also successful in crossing.
“You've got to be kidding me.” Sirius said with a huff, “He's so petty!” He waved his arms,
“What? Are we supposed to share a twin bed? Do I take the couch?”
Hermione was snickering, for she had just glanced at what was a dog bed in the corner of the
room. She walked towards it and found a note on top of it. For the animal. Theo laughed
when he saw it too and hit Harry on the arm to get the boy’s attention. “I think this one is
yours, Sirius,” Hermione said, picking the thing up and showing him the bed.
He gasped, “That bastard!”
Remus laughed and signalled to have the bed, “I will put right by the foot of Hermione’s bed
Pads,” he joked and placed the dog bed under his arm. “Like a guard dog.”
“This is not funny, Moony.”
“Oh, Pads, it is.”
“Hilarious.” Theo agreed. “I didn’t know he had a sense of humour.”
Hermione rolled her eyes at their antics and grabbed her purse to get their things out.
Remus and Sirius had moved to the other room and they could still hear their bickering.
“I bet Dad didn’t want them getting frisky on his bed.” Harry said with a smirk.
“Undoubtedly.” Theo agreed.
“Do you think they—” Hermione dropped the rest of her sentence.
Harry snorted, “For sure.” He said and pulled his pyjamas from his backpack. Finally, they
could get actually comfortable. “We’ve been all bunking together for the past week without a
hint of privacy. And they were always going at it back at the house.”
“But it’s my bed!” Hermione wailed.
Theo sniggered, “Just change the sheets,” he said. “Wait, do you think they do as you
know… wolf and dog?”
“God, Theo, shut up,” Hermione said, her cheeks burning scarlet. But Harry was considering
his answer. “Merlin, what is it with boys and sex? You bring it up in the weirdest moments!”
Theo suddenly pecked her cheek and she batted him away, his back falling onto the mattress,
“It's constantly at the back of our minds.” He said, unbothered.
Harry sighed and he looked quite dejected. “What is it?” She asked.
“I miss Pansy.” He confessed and Hermione’s eyes widened. Theo even sat up.
“Pansy?” He asked, “Not your ex? Redhead, freckles, chaser for Gryffindor? Remember
her?”
Harry threw his shirt at Theo with a scowl. “I know who my ex is, dickhead. I didn’t say I
don’t miss Ginny, I just—Miss Pansy. Too.” Theo made an ‘I surrender’ gesture and dropped
back down on the bed. “I’m showering first,” Harry announced and walked towards the
ensuite.
Theo waited for the water sound to speak again, “He misses Pansy.” He said conspiringly.
“Do you think he will realise he fancies her in this life?”
Hermione smirked, “Maybe. If he keeps missing her.”
Theo snorted, “Merlin, Granger. Even I miss Pansy. And Daph. And fuck, I miss Blaise so
much.”
“Me too, Theo.” She said, leaning against his shoulder. “I miss them all as well.”
***
The days passed differently at the house. They had a better routine and the five of them felt
like they had some sort of grasp on their lives. They had three meals, Sirius taught them
everything they needed to know for the Animagus transfiguration, and they waited for news
on the radio program.
The full moon came and they began their month-long period with the mandrake leaves in
their mouths. Dobby was called every few days, bringing them food and whatever news he
had.
He told them something that had Hermione hyperventilating, her heart twisting and breaking
in her chest, Remus and Sirius were trying very hard to keep her calm, despite the waterfalls
cascading from her eyes. She considered spitting the mandrake leaf, but that, strangely as it
was, felt like an anchor. The one thing she had to hold on. Days. She had lived days without
knowing, without feeling their absence. They were gone days before and she didn’t know.
But Merlin, it hurt. She screamed and gripped Sirius’ arm and was unable to hear anything he
whispered against her hair. Her parents. They took her parents.
Her knees had given up on her and she had met the ground hard and stayed there, shaking,
sobbing and hurting.
Hermione didn’t know how long she stayed like that, she didn’t see the way Remus was
gripping the fabric of the sofa because she was hurting him with her pain, she only knew that
the world went quiet when she heard Narcissa through the bond.
They are safe, she sent. It’s a lie, my darling. Hermione gasped and it took a brick with it,
Draco took care of it. He gave them new identities, they are in Australia. They are safe.
She cried even harder, this time from relief. Draco. He did it. He saved them. Saved her. They
were safe. Her parents. “It's a lie,” she managed to say, finally. “Aunt Cissy—” her throat was
ragged, sore from her tears and her screams, “She just told me. Draco sent them away. He hid
them.”
And then she fell back on Sirius’ chest.
He held her against him, rocking her as though she was a baby and she tried to match her
breathing to his in an attempt to calm down. “You are fine kiddo, they are fine.”
“They went after them,” she whispered, “they went after my parents.”
“To get back at you,” Sirius nodded, “But they are safe. Your boy got them out for you.”
“I want to know what happened.” She said, looking at the three expectant faces in front of
her. Hermione hadn’t even noticed, but everyone had kneeled around her. “I want to talk to
my parents. I—need to hear from them, so I—I will be sure. Is there a way?”
“You can write,” Remus suggested. “And Dobby can give them your letter.”
Hermione nodded, “I want that.”
And then she wrote: paragraphs that turned into pages, she wrote everything she could,
begging in the lines for yet one more forgiveness.
When September rolled along, they received the news that Severus had been appointed
Headmaster and with him, the Carrow twins became the professors of the new subject: The
Dark Arts.
The radio began operating daily then, they recognised different voices and had fun trying to
understand their nicknames, but the news it brought only made them more anxious. People
had started going missing, others had been already declared dead, and they were doing
nothing. All of them were bothered by their inaction, by just hiding when the Snatchers were
going after people they knew and cared about.
The three of them quickly became obsessed with the Marauders’ Map. Each of them was
keeping their eyes on different people. Blaise, Pansy and Daphne were always together,
Blaise had gone as far as managing to sneak inside the girls’ dormitory to sleep in there.
Hermione knew there was a threat to him there, with him being so close to Undesirable
Number 1 and Undesirable Number 5.
Harry had found it amusing that Hermione got the first place, while he took second. Sirius
and Remus had come next.
Draco was usually alone, he had been chosen as Head Boy if his presence at the Head
Students’ tower was a clue. Hermione had yet to find out who had been chosen as Head Girl
because no one else had entered the tower yet.
Ron and Ginny were always together as well, surrounded by a large group of friends,
Seamus, Neville and Luna often with them. Dean hadn’t returned, since he was a muggle-
born. But sometimes they’d find Pansy with them as well, and Hermione pretended to not see
her brother getting bothered every time they caught the two of them alone walking around the
castle.
The full moon in September came before the three of them had finished the Animagi process
and they watched, feeling even more impotent as Remus and Sirius apparated away. “We
need a plan,” Hermione said. “An action plan.”
“Agreed,” The boys said.
“We can’t stay here just waiting. The snake is the only Horcrux left. With Dad in the castle
and us here, Aunt Cissy is the only one left at the Manor.”
Harry nodded, “You-Know-Who is there all the time. It would be a death trap for her and the
rest of the Malfoys if she tried to kill the snake herself.”
“How do we get him away from the snake?” Theo asked, “We know he might be looking for
the Elder Wand, can’t we somehow get a fake tip out?”
“And then what? We barge into the manor while he’s away?” Hermione asked with a snort,
“Where there are currently a dozen Death Eaters?”
“Feel free to give an idea, Granger,” Theo replied curtly. “It's not like after the snake we still
have to kill him.
***
Hogwarts was miserable. The Carrows were nightmares in class and their classes quickly
turned into an hour of supervised torture sections.
He had given the tower to Draco and the boy only left it for classes and meals. Parkinson
could go there as well, but she hadn’t dared yet. Instead, she came to him to ask to allow
Zabini in the girl’s dormitory after the boy had gotten a bruised eye and a split lip on his first
night back. He allowed it and then changed the spell once more to only allow the Seventh
Year's girls and Zabini inside that dormitory once Hestia and Flora Carrow attempted to
snatch him from there.
Severus made himself unavailable to all the students. No one knew but Parkinson knew the
password to his office - the girl had smartly guessed on her first try - and he stayed there,
with Dumbledore’s portrait covered and hidden away. The best change of deco he made.
Severus certainly didn’t need the old man’s comments.
Minerva caught him by October, she had missed dinner and waited for him at the foot of the
statue, her hands on her waist and her expression thunderous. “You are helping them.” She
said, “I’ve heard of Mr Zabini’s new sleeping arrangements, I’ve seen Miss Parkinson
leaving your office twice carrying potions and other things, before disappearing inside the
Room of Requirement.”
“Would you allow me?” He asked and motioned at the statue, “Let's have that conversation
inside.” Minerva stepped aside and watched him with cat-like eyes as he walked forward,
“Hermione.” He said, holding Minerva’s glare and giving her the way to climb first.
They entered his new office and Minerva noticed at once that Dumbledore’s portrait was
missing. “Where is Albus?”
“On vacation,” He drawled, “After a life of dedication to the school, I felt it was deserved.”
“You jest!” She said, “Kids are being hurt and you hide yourself in here? Allowing those
monsters to walk these halls as though they own it?” Her voice raised, “It’s been a little over
two months, and the classrooms are already half empty, the other half filling the beds in the
Hospital Wing!”
“There are things I cannot do, Minerva.” He told her, “I'm certain you haven’t missed who’s
Undesirable Number 1. There’s only too much I can do without putting her at risk. They’ve
killed her muggle parents, who will they go after next? Mr Zabini is one option.”
“You know where they are,” She whispered, her voice weak. He nodded. “All of them? Harry
too? Remus’ boy?”
“Yes. They are with Remus and Sirius.”
Minerva fell to the armchair and put her hands on her head, “Thank Merlin,” she sighed,
“They've killed Ted Tonks, I—I was so worried one of their names would be next.”
“They are safe. I’ve sent wolfsbane to Remus every moon so far and—“ He even allowed the
fondness escape in his tone, “They’ve all turned into Animagi. Illegally of course,” Minerva
scowled but it quickly became a wet sound, “They are safe.”
She nodded and dried her eyes. Her eyes narrowed then and she turned to look at the space
where Dumbledore’s portrait should’ve been. “You are on our side,” she said, almost
accusingly. “Or at least on your kids’ side.” Minerva stood up, “Tell me Severus, why did
you remove his portrait? The truth this time.” He remained in silence and she snorted, “You
are protecting them, aren’t you? One of them did it. That’s why you hid him.”
“I hid him because I was done with a life of his manipulations, of hearing his opinion about
what Hermione and Harry should do or be. I just didn’t want to hear them in his death.”
“It may be so, but I think there’s something else you are hiding, Severus.” She said and
sighed, “But at least I’m glad to know part of the truth now.”
“It's all I can give you Minerva, at least for now.”
She nodded and excused herself.
***
The news of Ted Tonks’ death and Dean Thomas’ disappearance put them on edge. Sirius
paced the house incessantly and Theo had gotten a page out of Sirius’ book and turned it into
his new Animagi form to hide from his emotions. He was a lovely wolf, but big and one that
occupied most of the sofa.
“How many more people?” Sirius asked, “We know what we have to do. How long are we
staying here? Waiting for the war to end when we bloody know damn well that the Order can
go on missions, fight Death Eaters and Snatchers, but nothing will change while that snake
lives!”
“I agree,” Remus said, surprising them a bit. “But we need a plan. A distraction. Something
to get them out of the manor, that sends them all over. But more importantly, we need to
know when You-Know-Who is not there.
And that was what they did. Sirius stopped pacing, Theo turned back and they gathered
around her dad’s dining room table to discuss their options.
If Hermione were asked, she’d say that was the moment Sirius and Remus stopped seeing
them as kids and people to protect. Killing Nagini wouldn’t be an easy task and it would
require that all five of them saw each other as equally able to do it, to take any part of the
mission and see it through.
Sirius and Remus trained them and taught them a lot of spells that would not be looked at
lightly by Order members or an honest Ministry of Magic. They learned spells that left them
panting after wielding them, spells that hurt and could easily kill because if they were going
to be using the taboo to draw the Death Eaters away from the Manor, they might as well get
rid of some of them.
Sirius also got them practising their transformations, getting them to be able to shift at will as
quickly as possible without losing clothes in the process, to walk and run and in Harry's case
to use the antlers on his stag. He also needed them to be in complete control of their emotions
as animals, since one of the problems they had when they first joined Remus for the full
moons was that Padfoot didn’t feel like submitting to Moony, getting a paw to his chest for
his troubles.
They were doing well, especially because they knew where to look with Sirius explaining
everything. The time he had spent as Padfoot in Azkaban had given him vast knowledge
about the entire thing and Hermione was certain that without him, the whole thing would
have been almost impossible. When they were done with the hard parts, Hermione was happy
to find she was the second fastest on a sprint as a doe, only losing to Harry.
Remus still got a bit emotional upon seeing them in Animagi, but since no one made fun of
him for crying at seeing Theo’s form for the first time, now they felt like enough time had
passed and they could joke a bit about his general reaction towards their animals.
The moon in November was the first they would spend the five of them together and they
were all in varying levels of distress. Remus had set countless rules and they had all vowed to
obey.
“You need to come up one at a time,” Remus reminded them. “And obviously in your
Animagus form. I think it’s best if Harry’s first because he is the biggest and looks exactly
like Prongs. The wolf might need some time to adjust and realise it is not the same stag.”
Harry nodded, “All right, then Hermione is next, just because Moony has never been near a
female—That’s not an innuendo,” he added to Sirius and Theo, who had frozen with their
mouths open with half a word out.
“We know you are manly, Moony,” Sirius added with a wink.
Remus ignored him completely, “And then Theo. You are a wolf and because of our
relationship, I think both of us will recognise each other easily and behave accordingly. That
is if the Wolfsbane doesn’t make everything easier. Moony never met anyone new with it.”
They all nodded and when they had only half an hour until the moon and Remus had already
downed his last potion of the month, they all apparated to Galloway Forest up in Scotland.
The other thing Remus made them promise was that they would watch his transformation, so
he and Sirius took off, after making sure the three of them - now animals - were hidden.
Hermione had to admit, it was weird having four legs and losing the sense of her fingers as
she knew them, but the other senses were amazing, her vision was almost perfect and she
could smell even the faintest things and hear noises from very far. Theo had had the funniest
reaction to the difference in his senses, his nose had twitched all cutely and he sneezed a few
times. Harry had honoured the deer in headlights thing because his flinches were almost
destructive before he got used to the sounds he could now hear.
They waited in silence but they all whined as they heard the first sounds of Remus’
transformation. He screamed and with their enhanced hearing they could hear his bones
breaking. Hermione buried her nose in Theo’s fur, trying to offer him some support. After all,
Theo got to be a wolf without all of that pain.
Harry was the first one to move and Hermione saw him approaching the dog and wolf with
his head down and antlers lowered. Padfoot got in the middle but let Moony sniff as much as
he needed it. Hermione remembered meeting the wolf for the first time, that night by the
Whomping Willow, the wolf had been scared and aggressive then, but now it was merely
bigger than Padfoot.
Hermione and Theo watched as Harry bowed to Moony, folding his front legs in a sign of
submission and the wolf sniffed him and huffed. Both Theo and Hermione let out puffs of air
when the wolf rubbed his muzzle against Harry’s.
She was next and she copied Harry’s movements, but she was smaller and antler-free, so she
knew she wouldn’t look very threatening to the wolf. And just like with Harry, the wolf
quickly recognised and accepted her.
Moony sniffed the air and howled, his tail wiggling happily. Theo came trotting and didn’t
even bother with showing submission. Just like Remus had guessed, Moony knew exactly
who and what Theo was.
Padfoot barked and jumped on Moony’s back, pulling on the wolf’s ear playfully, Moony
quickly threw the dog off him and set off in a run, Padfoot barked at them and they all
followed. It was ridiculously fun and before that moment, Hermione thought it would be
impossible to ever feel light-hearted again. But for the first time since meeting Remus, the
moon in the sky above them wasn’t a reason to fear and suffer. For one night, they shook off
the anxiousness their shoulders bore and let the speed in which they ran heal the smallest
wounds in their chests.
The war was happening, people had died and tomorrow they would fight once more. In a few
days, they would meet it headfirst and then they would take their lives back.
Chapter End Notes
Tell me in the comments what you think!
I don't make any promises but I might get the next one
next Friday!
The title and the quote at the beginning belong to A Lista by Oswaldo Montenegro.
The English lyrics are:
How many lies did you condemn?

And how many did you have to tell?
How many defects have been remedied over time?
Were they the best in you?
As always you can find me on twitter, it's moonyhoax

I beat it like a dead horse, I beat it like a drum
Chapter Notes
It's here!!! It's done!!! Thank you so much to everyone who has read, followed,
commented and given kudos to this fic for the past three years and a half! It has
definitely been a ride. Those who have followed it since the beginning have seen not
only the development of the fic but also me starting and finishing a master's degree
lmao.
I had the time of my life writing this and never, in my wildest dreams thought this would
reach the numbers it did. it was supposed to be a mess of my favourite head canons and
it truly was a blessing to find so many people who enjoyed reading this as much as I did
writing it.
This is officially the LAST CHAPTER, but I have one more with the Epilogue coming
very soon.
I've posted a new chapter in the Pansy/Harry spin-off for those who are curious about
their adventures (with the addition of Neville) during sixth year. If you want to read, I
recommend doing it BEFORE reading this one. You can find the chapter here
held my breath for a decade

dyed my hair blue to match my lips
cool of me to try (pretty cool I'm still alive)
I beat it like a dead horse
Chapter Seventy Four
The opportunity they needed came in early December. The rumours about Voldemort’s trips
to the continent were proven true when Narcissa’s message came through the bond.
He has gone to Nurmengard. He believes he’s going to find something there.
They didn’t pack their things, only their wands and the daggers embedded with Basilisk
venom. Hermione had one under her sleeve and another inside her boot. Harry called Dobby
and they gave the elf Hermione’s bag with all of their potions, healing salves and general first
aid kit. They couldn’t risk losing it in case the whole thing went south.
Forest of the Dean was the chosen location. They apparated there and, after spreading out in a
circle formation, hid behind trunks and bushes. Hermione's heart beat wildly in her chest.
After her Animagus transformation, it seemed that her heart was always threatening to beat
its way out of her chest. Like a prey's heart. But not today.
They exchanged glances and nods to one another, she tugged on Remus’ bond and felt him
tugging back. Their wands were ready and together, they broke the Taboo.
It was deadly silent for a moment, the air crackled with anticipation, as Hermione held her
wand firmly. And then the voices, rough and excited, could be heard around them. The
promise of an onslaught of spells made the wood vibrate in her hand.
She recognised Greyback first - he was the only one wearing Death Eater’s robes despite not
being one - and with him, around a dozen wizards all looking eager for another hunt.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” one of them sang, “You called us, we know you are
here.”
“Shut up,” Greyback growled and Hermione looked at Remus, who was crouched a bit to the
side of her. He looked tense and the next moment, she understood why, “I can smell you, my
wolf. Don’t hide now, you know I will always be able to smell my first.”
Sirius was the one to cast first, his spell exploded through the bushes, the violent red of a
forbidden spell, long forgotten inside the Black grimoire, now whispering its secrets across
the forest. Greyback was a second too late with his shield and Sirius’ spell sent Greyback’s
arms in flames.
The werewolf screamed and two others helped him by dousing water with their wands.
Remus and Harry attacked then, using the momentary distraction to begin firing. Hermione
and Theo came out from the other side, and they all faced each other, eyes locked in fierce
determination as a surge of energy rippled through the forest. The spells were flying, and the
majority of the Snatchers were mediocre wizards at best, having to say their spells out loud,
giving them the extra second they needed to protect themselves.
Sirius and Remus knew more magic than the dozen Snatchers combined, but the Snatchers
still outnumbered them five to one. Suddenly, one of the Snatchers screamed, "Scabior, it's
them! The boy and the girl! It's them!"
The air crackled with a spectacle of vibrant colours and a burnt smell filled their nostrils. The
trees trembled around them as the symphony of clashing spells and powerful incantations
filled the forest. More wizards Apparated, this time Hermione saw some Death Eater robes
arriving.
“Well, hello father!” Theo called with the ugliest of voices, full of revenge. His next spell
didn’t take a second: “Avada Kedavra!”
But Nott had managed to avoid it right in time and he howled in laughter, “Do you want to
kill me, boy? Do you think you can do it?”
Hermione had to leap to the side to avoid a spell in her direction and she missed the spell
Nott had flown at his son. Spells were flying from all directions, she couldn’t risk paying
attention to the others and getting hit herself, especially because each of them was easily
fighting four of them. She caught Harry’s eyes and he mouthed at her ‘It’s time’ and she
nodded.
Together, from their respective spots in the now broken formation, they darted through the
dense forest, the smoke of the spells and burnt wood covering them as they shot spells behind
their backs at the Snatchers following them.
“Potter and the girl as escaping!” Dolohov shouted, “Get th-huff”
What the hell are you doing? Remus sent in desperation.
She ignored him and looked back to find that the only Death Eater who hadn’t given them
chase was Theo’s father, who was hellbent on killing him.
Hermione trusted Theo and trusted Sirius and Remus as well, so she and Harry kept running,
their hearts pounded in their chests, fuelled by adrenaline. The ice on the ground seemed
irrelevant as they ran and the evening air echoed their hurried breaths and the crackle of twigs
beneath their frantic steps.
Spells flew over their heads, and Harry managed to get close enough to her to grip her hand
as they ran, “Sirius is furious,” he gasped and she squeezed his hand as they leapt over a
raised root.
“Remus is too.”
"Whenever you are ready, sis,” Harry said, his breathing laboured after the fight and then the
flight.
“Let's do it,” she said and whirled around, getting Harry behind her and raising her shield
around both of them. No more running now.
“Well, look what we got here,” Dolohov called. “Trouble number one and two.” He had
stopped running and had raised his wand to keep the others from firing at them. Dolohov had
seen her shield once, he knew exactly what awaited him.
Fear clung to them like a suffocating shroud. Hermione held her shield up, separating them
from the others who had closed in on them, casting cruel sneers and triumphant grins at what
they thought they had successfully ensnared. But neither Harry nor Hermione were prey; they
were merely the bait. And the Snatchers had taken it.
“You can’t hold that thing forever, little girl,” Greyback snarled, circling the shield with a
wicked smile.
“Let's make a deal,” She said, her voice foreign to her ears. This was the part of the plan they
hadn’t shared with the other three. This was the part where they either died right here and
then or ended this war just like it had started: together.
Dolohov laughed, “You are not in a position to do so, pretty girl.”

“Harry and I, we have different destinations, have we not? In this great plan of yours?”
Dolohov smirked then, “Oh my, you are a little Snape, aren’t you?” He said, “But yes, we
just need your head, but we are taking Potter with us.”
“Take me too,” she said, her eyes burning in determination, “Take me with my brother and
you can have my head later.”
Hermione glanced at Greyback then, allowed him to watch her, to have that disgusting
thought fester in his mind.
“Do you want to be there to see your baby brother die?” Dolohov asked and the other
Snatchers all laughed mockingly, the sounds echoing through the dense forest.
“Please, take me with him,” she begged and made her shield waver a bit, fooling them all.
Greyback licked his lips, “You beg so prettily,” he said. Harry’s body locked next to her. Her
magic was so close to him, involving both of them that she could almost feel his magic as
well. “I bet your screams would be so too.”
Dolohov smirked, “You have a hell of a lot of enemies waiting for you at the ministry girl,
they will have a lot more of you before they take your head.”
“To hell with the Ministry,” Greyback growled. “They’ll take the credit, and we won’t get a
look in. I say we take him straight to You-Know-Who.”
“We cannot summon him, your stupid beast,” Dolohov barked, “He's on a mission. We will
have to take them to the Manor.” Hermione and Harry exchanged a fleeting glance, we can
do this. “Drop the shield and don’t even try it. Or you will be saying goodbye to dear brother
right now.”
They did and their hands were swiftly restrained, bound by tightly secured ropes that cut into
their wrists. They were forced onto their knees and had their wands snatched. “I will take the
girl,” Greyback said, whispering the word against the shell of her ear, she shivered and tried
to move away from him. Harry used his head to try to get the giant man off her.
“Hermione!” They heard Remus shouting, and Dolohov’s head snapped back at the sound.
“Harry!” They could hear the sound of rustling leaves coming closer and knew that Sirius
and Theo were with him.
The other five Snatchers had their wands ready and Hermione felt her shield inside of her
grow, they wouldn’t have their family, she wouldn’t allow it. Dolohov seemed to have seen
something in her face because he screamed “LET'S GO!”
She let it all out, purposefully, different from that day at the Ministry and stronger, angrier
than what she threatened to do at the Burrow.
He grabbed Harry and Hermione sent a wave around, opening a clearing in the middle of the
forest, toppling the Snatchers with the strength of the blast.
The last thing she saw before Greyback apparated with her was the sight of Remus, Sirius
and Theo shielding themselves from the blast.
She was shoved forward in front of the mighty gates she thought she would never see again.
The bond was screaming inside of her and she sent a reply, We are at the Manor. Harry and I
will take care of the snake.
Fuck, Hermione. This was not the plan!
No, but the original one wouldn’t have worked. There were too many scenarios in it.
Hermione drafted one better.
Harry was the only one wanted alive. In the scenario where they were captured, it would be
easier to convince them to take just one more. To take her, the girl, who excited their worst
intentions and offered them a delicious provocation to the one Death Eater none of them
trusted. Their group was too large and all of them were worth more dead than alive, the five
of them would never have gotten to the Manor together.
And in the scenario where they weren’t captured, that they managed to fight and overpower
all the snatchers and Death Eaters on the way, what guarantee they would have that even
more Death Eaters were not awaiting them in the Manor? How far would they go, if they had
to fight their way through?
Like this, kneeling against the gates of the Manor, whoever was inside would not greet them
with wands in their faces, but with sneer and sadistic victory. Dolohov and Greyback would
gloat. Like this, she could get Narcissa ready to help.
The iron was contorting, twisting itself out of the abstract furls and coils into a face
Hermione recognised as Aunt Cissy, which spoke in a clanging, echoing voice: “State your
purpose!”
Open the door, Aunt Cissy, she sent through the bond. It roared in anger in return.
“We’ve got Potter!” Greyback announced triumphantly. “We’ve captured Harry Potter!”
The gates swung open.
And then Hermione remembered a detail she had missed. An important one: She couldn’t get
in.
Dolohov and Greyback shunted them through the gates and up the drive, between high
hedges that muffled their footsteps. And Hermione couldn’t breathe. The pain she felt the last
time she had been here was doubled because she was now being forced to go in the opposite
direction. Harry turned to her and his eyes widened, she knew her face was probably purple.
I need uncle, she sent weakly, he needs to—.
She didn’t need to finish her sentence, because the sound of Lucius' cane could now be heard
coming down the stone steps. The little air Hermione had, left her in relief.
Lucius waved his wand, a show and a rescue at the same time. “How dare you!” He hissed,
“Entering my house as you own it!”
The barrier Greyback now found himself blocked was insignificant because she could breathe
again, the Manor beneath her feet was not trying to throw her out. Home, she felt it once
more, it’s home again.
“Use your eyes, Lucius!” Dolohov snarled, “Look who we have here.”
Hermione had been stumbling until then, her brother helping her with every step, but she
could inhale again and her feet were now back under her command. She looked up and found
Lucius’ grey eyes on her. Merlin, she had missed him. Her chin wobbled and her eyes filled
with tears. Thank you.
“Ge-get them in,” Lucius said, his voice cracking.
Hermione and Harry were led through a hallway lined with portraits and she looked,
remembering each of them. Draco’s great-great-grandfather, his great-grandfather, Abraxas…
They turned and Hermione knew where they were going, she knew every door to this place.
She saw the crystal chandelier which hung from the ceiling, almost shed a tear at the dark
purple walls. The throne was new, it hadn’t been there before. But the ornate marble fireplace
and the chair in front of it were the same. Aunt Cissy.
She stood. “What is this?” Narcissa asked. No one commented on how Narcissa had her
wand in her hand.
Greyback forced Hermione back on her knees, unaware that the house tiles were vibrating in
revolt. “We’ve got them,” he rasped.
At that moment, they heard hissing and Nagini appeared, slithering up the stairs from the
cellar. Hermione stared at the snake, there. They were so close.
You stupid, reckless girl, Narcissa sent and Hermione looked at her, not wavering.
She dies today.
“The girl offered to come along,” Dolohov said with a grin, “Offered a lot more actually, we
should call McNair, he’d love to have a moment.”
“Let's get them to their cells,” Lucius said, his voice quiet in controlled fury. “Dolohov, with
me and Potter. And Cissy—”
The drawing room door opened behind them. A woman spoke, and the sound of the voice
announced the return of Hermione’s fear.
Both Lucius and Narcissa stilled.
“What is this? What’s happened, Cissy?” Bellatrix Lestrange strolled around them, and
stopped on Harry’s right, staring at Hermione through her heavily lidded eyes. “But surely,”
she said quietly, “isn’t this the girl? Snape’s brat?” Hermione shivered and finally, the size of
her gamble fell upon her. Bellatrix moved, stopping in front of Harry, “And this, well, hello
Potter.” Bellatrix whirled around, “What are you waiting for? The Dark Lord must be
informed at once!” She dragged back her left sleeve. Hermione saw the Dark Mark burned
into the flesh of her arm.
Lucius grabbed Bellatrix’s wrist, preventing her from touching the mark. “Wait,” he hissed.
“Let's get them in their cells first.”
“What? Are you afraid of losing them when they are bound and kneeling on your floor?” She
scoffed.
“You were the one to lose them first, were you not? A pot to the head, if I remember well?”
Dolohov glared at Hermione at the reminder, “Didn’t you let them go to save your husband?
Oh, yes, I remember. Our lord was so happy with you.”
“TAKE THEM!” Bellatrix shrieked, “Wrap them in ropes and keep them behind bars!”
“You don’t order me inside my house, Bellatrix.” Lucius hissed. Well, they seemed to be
having a grand time together. “Dolohov,” Lucius called, “Get the boy.” He then turned to
Greyback, “You too, beast.”
“I want the gir—”
“You can have her later.” Lucius barked.
Hermione watched Harry be taken, Dolohov and Greyback each holding one of Harry's arms.
Lucius was the last one to leave the room and he gave her a small nod as he disappeared
behind the door.
“It's girls time!” Bellatrix cheered and Narcissa looked between her sister and her
goddaughter. Merlin, Hermione knew which decision Narcissa was about to make.
Do you have the dagger? Narcissa asked through the bond.
Yes, Hermione replied, Nagini was now resting against the throne, her long body following
the entire curve of it: over the armrest, across the back and down again on the other armrest.
Get ready to use it.
In a blink, Narcissa slashed her wand and the restraints around Hermione’s wrists were gone.
Bellatrix gasped and before she could react, Narcissa was moving her wand again, sending
her sister against the wall, over the marble fireplace.
Nagini hissed and opened its huge mouth, coiling her body and jumping at them. Hermione
removed the dagger that was hidden under her sleeve and threw it with all her strength and
the precision Bill Weasley had trained into her. The animal screamed in pain and fell to the
floor, its body twisting around. Nagini fell too close to Narcissa, and even in pain, the snake
made to strike. Nagini was so enormous that with her mouth stretched open, Hermione didn’t
doubt it could swallow Narcissa whole.
Hermione removed the other dagger, the one inside her boot, and with both hands sunk the
dagger into the snake’s neck, right under the opened mouth. At the same time, Narcissa had
thrusted her dagger into Nagini’s eye. Hermione, still holding the dagger with both hands,
pulled it down, slicing Nagini’s body open. Blood spurted and covered both of them.
The dagger fell to the floor, and Hermione staggered, falling onto her backside. Narcissa
grabbed Hermione and pulled her back, dragging her away from the snake and the black ooze
coming out of it. It hissed, and thankfully, no sinister images came out of it.
Ignoring the blood, Narcissa kneeled and wrapped her arms around Hermione. They
squeezed onto each other and Hermione didn’t know which one had started crying first.
“Hermione!” Harry called.
At the same time, “Cissy!”
They turned and Harry came careening into her, his knees sliding on the marble floor. They
held onto each other desperately. “They are dead,” He told her, “Malfoy and I, we—”
“Your sister?” Lucius asked, a bit too hopeful.
Narcissa pointed towards the fireplace, where Bellatrix was hanging, “She's only
unconscious.” Narcissa said, her voice strangely sad. Regardless, it was her sister. Hermione,
who clung to Harry with everything she had, could understand. “I'm changing her memory.
We need to go.”
Lucius nodded and helped his wife to her feet; he turned to Hermione then and before she
could think too much of it, she jumped on him, hugging his middle with all her might.
“Thank you, uncle. Gods, thank you.”
He kissed the top of her hair, “No, thank you. I made the right choice, for you, for them.” She
nodded against his chest.
She pulled away, noticing that she had now covered all of them in blood and winced. “Tell
Sirius we are fine, I’m telling Remus.”
“Tell them to meet us in Hogwarts. We are coming.”
Her eyes widened and she nodded.
Nagini is dead. We are going to Hogwarts. Lucius and Narcissa are with us. Dolohov and
Greyback are dead.
Who killed Greyback?
“Who killed Greyback?” Hermione asked and Lucius snorted.
“That's what the wolf wants to know,” he said with a shake of his head, “I did. Ask him if it’s
enough proof now.”
Lucius did, he wants to know if that’s enough proof. Whatever that means
Now I’m double angry, pup. With you, for pulling this stunt and for having Lucius give me
freedom.
I’m sorry?
Are you and Harry all right?
Yes.
Then we are good. Hermione sighed, But we lied to Theo. Your brother covered for you, by
the way, Sirius said it was Harry’s idea to get captured on purpose. And I know damn well it
was yours.
Hermione’s chest twisted, Thank you.
Come back to us, pup.
“Let's go,” Narcissa said, returning. Hermione noted she didn’t bother with removing her
sister from where she hung. “Lucius, the elves.”
“What about them?” Hermione asked as Narcissa pulled Hermione with her, Lucius did the
same with Harry.
“They answer to the Dark Lord,” Narcissa explained as they walked. “If he asks them what
happened they will tell.”
“You can’t kill them all!” She said in desperation.
“We are not going to, darling,” Narcissa said with a sigh. “We need them to clean this entire
place once we are back.”
Harry snorted.
“I'm sending them to another house,” Lucius said. “The Dark Lord made me tell them to obey
him, not to respond to his calls. A loophole,” he winked at her.
Hermione nodded and allowed relief to truly sink in. Nagini was gone. They only needed to
kill Voldemort. They were going to Hogwarts. She was going to see her dad. She was going
to see Draco.
Lucius and Narcissa hushed inside their own house and Hermione knew they were right:
Bellatrix could wake up, other Death Eaters could arrive, and Voldemort could return.
They entered her dad’s wing of the Manor, and despite knowing he had one, she hadn’t been
in it before. He had his bedroom and ensuite, a Potions lab that Hermione saw as she passed
by the door and a smaller library with a fireplace.
“Come,” Narcissa said, ushering them inside, “I will go first and tell him to open his Floo to
the two of you. And I will let you know when you can come.” They nodded, “Headmaster's
office.”
And she was gone.
Harry looked around, “This feels weird,” he said. “Of all places, I thought I’d find myself
in…”
“I must admit, Potter, neither did I, neither did I,” Lucius replied.
Come.
“We can go,” Hermione said.
“Potter, you first. Hermione, my girl, I will go after you.”
Harry nodded, grabbed a handful of the Floo powder and called for the Headmaster’s office.
Lucius squeezed her arm, “You do bring life to the Manor, Hermione.”
A slightly panicked laughter escaped her, “I'm drenched in blood, Uncle. That’s the antithesis
of life.”
“Some would say different,” he said and waved her forward, “Go, your father has missed you
so.”
She grinned and entered the Floo.
The moment she stepped outside, she found herself straight into the arms of her dad.
“Gods, Hermione,” he whispered in her hair and her eyes burned with tears.
Lucius came through as well and he and Narcissa held each other.
“Dad,” she cried, squeezing him. “I missed you.”
“Are you all right? Hurt?”
“No, it’s all Nagini’s,” She told him, “Everyone got it from Nagini.” She added upon looking
at Harry, Narcissa and Lucius.
“The bathroom is to the side,” he told her, “You can—”
His door blasted open and they all whirled around.
Time stood frozen at the sight of him. Her heart skipped a beat and he stood there, frozen just
like her. His eyes searched her and she knew he might be thinking she was hurt. She shook
her head and he took a step, just one, uncertain and terrified. She grinned and took a step in
his direction. It was like something broke and their smiles widened and distance disappeared
between them because the next moment they were in each other’s arms, he had circled her
waist and was twirling her, the feel of his hands on her, the warmth of his embrace that she
thought she would never feel it again.
“Merlin, Granger,” he gasped, cradling her face in his hands, “what a vision.”
She giggled, “I'm a scene out of a horror movie,”
“I have no idea what those are, you are glorious.” He replied and her tears came cascading
down. She buried her face in his chest, inhaling the familiar scent. Cedar, spice and clove.
The love of her life. “But you do look quite terrifying, just the way I love you.” Someone
groaned and she guessed it was her brother. “What are you doing here?”
“Harry and I got captured by the Snatchers and they took us to the Manor, your parents
helped us out.”
They pulled apart and Draco held her hand as he walked towards his parents. “We’ve turned?
Officially?”
“Well my son, after killing Dolohov, Greyback and Nagini—”
“And blasting one’s sister…”
“That, my love, yes,” Lucius added, “After all that, I decided it would be best to not be there
when he arrives. Might as well have defected.”
“Which might be soon.” Dad said, “He has no Horcruxes left and Nagini was more than just
a Horcrux, we have to believe he might have felt her death.”
Narcissa nodded, “Often I wondered if he could communicate with her even from a distance.
Her eyes would change to red at times and—” Narcissa shivered, “He could know already.”
“We need to get ready,” Dad said and reached for her, “Take a bath, I will ask the elves for
some food. Cissy, you can go next.” He said and looked around, “And new clothes for
everyone.”
Hermione entered her dad’s quarters and found Draco following her. “I will help you,”
“You are not getting in the bathroom with—” Draco closed the door on the rest of her dad’s
sentence.
He helped her out of her clothes, they were all destroyed and sticky to her skin. Not even
dozens of cleaning spells would get all that blood out of them.
With a wave of his wand, Draco filled the bathtub and cast a heating charm on the water as he
helped her in. A full-body shiver ran down her body as she lowered her body, keeping only
her head out. At once, the water became crimson.
“Turn your back,” he said in a low voice, “I'm scrubbing your back.”
She did and he grabbed the sponge and filled a basin of clean water to his side. “How’ve you
been?” She asked.
“I’m Head Boy,” he told her and she smiled a little, “Pansy is Head Girl, but she’s barely in
classes and certainly not doing her duties. Hogwarts is…Just wrong. The Carrows have
turned this place into torture halls. Vince and Greg are having a blast, some of the others who
have been selected to join as well, and everyone else is trying to keep away. Pans and I are
the only ones to come here and he gives us whatever we need to give the others. Madam
Pomfrey has been forbidden to help in the Hospital Wing, so she’s hiding with the others as
well.”
“Where is everyone hiding?”
“The Room of Requirement,” Draco answered, “The place is filled with bunk beds,
hammocks and hospital beds. The majority of Gryffindors are there, the Weasleys of course,
anyone who they think knows where you are. Blaise and Daph are there as well.”
“Are they okay?”
“A bit bruised, but that’s everyone. Whoever refuses to torture other students gets one of their
own, you should see Neville, his face was almost unrecognisable the other day.”
“Why? Isn’t he hiding as well?”
“Yes, but we still have classes. Half the school had all but dropped everything, but the
Carrows turned to the professors. No one wanted to see Professor Sprout being tortured.”
“That's horrible,” she whispered.
“It is. Your dad has put in some new rules: if you are not in class, you are to stay in your
common room. He announced it as a way to keep people from talking and spreading news,
but we know it’s to keep everyone out of the Carrows’ way."
“This will end soon,” She said and squeezed Draco’s hand, “It has to.”
“It will,” he promised her.
She was better with being underwater, but Draco still chose to clean her face and hair with a
cloth instead of having her submerge. And for it, she greatly appreciated him.
“It is ugly, but the resistance is stronger. It’s the two of them and a handful of students against
everyone else. We—Blaise, Pans, Daph, Neville and Finnigan, that is, we’ve been planting
traps all over the castle, Susan Bones called them detonators. In case You-Know-Who
decides to take the castle by force. The Order Members also have a quick way into the castle
through the Room of Requirement, Hogwarts opened a new passage, and it goes straight to
the Hog’s Head.”
They changed the water and Hermione shivered during the few seconds it took to feel warm
again. She turned around and cupped his cheek, “Thank you,”
“It hasn’t been all me, Granger. The school union Dumbledore always sang about, he was
right on that.”
“Not only that, Draco.” She said and some tears escaped her eyes unprompted. “My parents, I
heard what you did.”
“Oh,” he said, surprised and then suddenly worried, “Did you know at once or…”
“No, for a few moments, I believed they were dead.”
“I'm sorry, I hated that I couldn’t find a way to tell you. But I didn’t have any time. I got the
mission moments before I got to their door. I—I’m not proud of what I did.”
“What did you do?” She asked.
He kissed her forehead, “Another time, okay? I promise you. Let’s get you dried and
changed.”
Hermione nodded and they did so. Her uniform had been placed on top of the toilet and she
managed a small smile upon seeing them. Once they left the bathroom, Narcissa and Lucius
entered, and Hermione found that Professor McGonagall was standing there as well.
“Miss Granger, I’m glad to see you,”
“You too, Professor.”
“Dinner will be soon,” her dad said. Harry was next to him and Hermione noted that someone
had been through with the cleaning spells on him and he was already in his uniform. "The
three of you will go with Minerva to the Room of Requirement, Remus, Sirius and Theodore
will arrive through there.”
They nodded and Draco asked, “What about my parents?”
“They will stay here for the time being.” Dad replied, “The others wouldn’t receive Lucius
and Narcissa well. Now go.”
Hermione gave her dad another hug, got a kiss on her head and then left with Draco and
Harry, following Professor McGonagall towards the Room of Requirement.
The portraits whispered and gossiped among them, but Professor McGonagall ignored it all.
She walked briskly and with her wand ready. Just like Draco had said, the corridors were
empty and silent.
“I don’t have my wand anymore,” Hermione whispered, realising it.
“Oh, you do,” Harry said and got Hermione’s wand out of his pocket. “Mr Malfoy got our
wands back, he gave them to me while you were in the bathroom.” He handed it to her.
She breathed easier then.

Draco stopped in front of the blank wall and they stood a bit behind him, Professor
McGonagall had her back to them and kept her wand ready in case anyone showed up. The
doors materialised in front of them and Professor McGonagall ushered them in. “Go.”
Draco stepped inside, “Hey everyone, look who I found!” He called and moved to the side to
reveal Hermione and Harry.
“HERMIONE!”
“Henry!”
“Harry!”
She couldn’t see who called her, because the next moment she was engulfed, hugged and
lifted from the floor by her friends. She recognised Blaise, Daphne and Pansy and tried
desperately to hug them all at once. Harry was suffering similarly but with Neville and the
Weasleys.
She looked at the room, it was almost unrecognisable. What once had been their practising
place was now an enormous room, which looked like the interior of a particularly sumptuous
ship’s cabin, one belonging to a quirky pirate. Multicoloured hammocks were strung from the
ceiling and from a balcony that ran around the dark wood-panelled and windowless walls.
Bunk beds were all close together on one side and the only ones with a bit more privacy were
the hospital beds with curtains around them. The walls themselves were covered in bright
tapestry hangings: all the houses were there, together. And it could be seen from the furniture
as well: she recognised some of the Slytherin sofas and cushions, a chair. Hermione guessed
all the furniture of the place consisted of stolen pieces from the four houses. There were
bulging bookcases, a few broomsticks propped against the walls, and in the corner, a large
wooden-cased wireless.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Blaise asked. His eyes looked behind them, waiting for
someone else to appear, “Where’s…”
“He's coming.” She said, squeezing his hand. “He's coming with Remus and Sirius.”
“You got separated?” He asked. Pansy was now hanging in one of Hermione’s arms. Her
green eyes went between Hermione and Harry with unshed tears.
Hermione made a face, “We got captured, Harry and I.” Hermione realised that everyone had
come forward to listen to them. “Greyback and Dolohov took us to the Manor,” people
gasped at that, “Lucius and Narcissa took us out. We killed the snake. And Lucius killed the
two Death Eaters.”
“Lucius Malfoy?” Someone asked. Draco scowled. “Lucius killed his Death Eaters friends?”
“Are we going through this again?” Draco asked.
“I barely got over you being in here, mate,” Goldstein replied.

People began talking over one another and Hermione and Harry tried to explain what could
happen next. Any moment now.
She couldn’t help to notice, that a lot of them were indeed bruised: Seamus Finnigan’s face
was puffy, Neville had a cut lip and his cheek was purple from a bruise and Blaise had a
plaster near his eyebrow.
Madam Pomfrey got the students to step back, giving them space. “Are you all right? Do you
need anything? Are you hurt anywhere?”
“No, we are all right.” Hermione guaranteed.
“Good, get to a bed, get some rest.” The matron said.
Hermione nodded and allowed her friends to tug her to their corner. She saw Pansy, who was
still looking and said, “He told Theo and I that he missed you,”
Pansy’s cheeks reddened and she shook her head quickly, “I haven’t missed him at all. He—”
She stopped, because the door was opening again, but not the one she had just come through,
another one, on the opposite side of the Room.
Her heart began beating faster the moment she realised who had arrived. Harry too shot up
and they pushed people to the side at the first sight of Remus’ brown hair.
“Moony! Sirius! Theo!” She called and the three of them snapped their eyes to her at the
same time.
Hermione crashed into Remus, who looked a bit worse for wear, but had a smile on his face
as he hugged her. “Gods, Hermione. You made me so worried.”
“I'm sorry, I’m sorry.” She said and felt him nodding on top of her.
Hermione pulled away from Remus just in time to see Theo and Blaise meeting. Theo
wrapped both arms around Blaise’s neck, burying his face against his boyfriend’s neck and
Blaise hugged Theo’s shoulders, practically inhaling Theo’s hair. Her eyes burnt and she
turned away to greet Sirius.
“Hey, kiddo, don’t pull that shit again.” He whispered and kissed her temple, pulling her to
his side, keeping an arm on her and his other on Harry.
“What happened to your face?” Theo asked, he was cradling Blaise’s cheeks and had a thumb
over Blaise’s plaster, but he wasn’t touching it.
“I'm okay, Love,” Blaise replied, his voice a bit awed, like he couldn’t believe Theo was
standing there in front of him. “Got a punch and a Heir Ring cut my cheek.”
“How's the other guy?” Theo asked.
“Much worse,” Blaise grinned and Theo grinned as well.
“Got a secret to tell you, babe,” Theo said with a smirk. He looked proud.
“Theodore…” Remus called and Hermione saw Theo roll his eyes.
“What did you do?” Blaise asked.
“What did he do?” Hermione asked and looked between Remus and Sirius, “What happened
after Harry and I left?”
Theo turned, “After you and your brother had the stupidest idea of the century, you mean?”
Harry stepped in front of her, he covered for you, by the way, “Hey, it was my idea. I just took
her with me.” He said, both hands out.
Draco and Pansy moved closer, “And what exactly was your idea?” Draco asked.
Hermione kept quiet, looking around assessing the damage. “We had a plan. But we were
cornered and outnumbered. Once I realised they would take us to the Manor…”
“You took her with you?” Pansy asked, an eyebrow raised and her tone suggesting danger.
“You decided well, 'let me be stupid and get captured and why the hell not, let me take my
sister with me!’”
“Pans…” Hermione tried and Harry shook his head.
But Pansy raised her hand, cutting Hermione off, “I told you to take care of her.” Pansy
glared at Harry.
“I did.” He replied.
“You didn’t.” Pansy’s voice was a whisper. And an accusation. Hermione realised this was
not entirely about her.
“I really did Pans,” Harry said.
Draco doubled in pain next to her and he swore, his right hand gripping tightly against his left
forearm. Everyone turned and a few people stepped back, scared.
“Hey,” she said, coming in front of him and helping him to a bed. His forehead was sweating
and his expression was pinched in pain. “Is he calling?”
Draco shook his head, “He's furious.” He gasped and his body swayed, Hermione held him
against her shoulder. “He's torturing someone. Merlin, I never felt him this angry.”
“He must be at the Manor,” Remus said. “He will probably check on the others now that
Nagini is dead and once he finds all of them gone… He will come here.”
Sirius turned to Neville, “I need to use the Potterwatch,” he said urgently. “We need to get
everyone here before he sends more Death Eaters.”
“What?” Someone asked, “What’s happening?”

“Why is he coming here?” Lavender Brown asked. She looked terrified.
“Explain it all Moony, we have no time. I’m calling the Order.” Sirius said and urged Neville
to take him to the radio.
“Poppy,” Remus called urgently and the matron came forward. “Anyone who’s under
seventeen needs to leave the castle and those who are too hurt as well, regardless of age.”
Finnigan scoffed, “This is not explaining—”
“Shut up and wait,” Blaise replied.
Remus climbed on top of the nearest table to be taller and motioned to everyone to pay
attention. “Listen,” he said, “You-Know-Who believed himself to be immortal and that’s
because he used an extremely dark kind of magic to ensure he couldn’t be killed. And he did
it six times. Harry and Hermione just destroyed the last of them at Malfoy Manor.” He
summarised the whole Horcrux thing neatly and continued, “From what Draco felt through
the mark, we have to believe he has found out. He will go to where he hid the others and he
will find that all of them have been destroyed. And then he will come here because one of
them was here.”
“But it's destroyed already?” Zacharias Smith asked.
“Please follow along,” Pansy answered scathingly.
“Yes,” Remus said, ignoring Pansy. “He doesn’t have them anymore. They are all gone.”
Hermione inhaled and exhaled, “He is mortal and once he comes here, we will fight him to
death.” Some people nodded solemnly, others were enthusiastic about it. The room was silent
and every pair of eyes seemed trained on Remus. “Sirius is calling the Order because once
You-Know-Who comes here, he won’t be coming alone. He will bring his Death Eaters.” He
looked around and saw the students bruised and still willing, “All of you have been very
brave so far. This right here is the proof. But what’s coming will require much more bravery,
it will require those willing to fight, to pick up their wands and cast spells not only to defend
but to attack.”
“They do not care about our age,” Theo said, “They won’t care about your house or your
name or anything of the sort. If you are not with them, they will have the killing curse at the
tip of their tongues.” He looked at Hermione and Harry and then back to the group, “If you
are not willing to answer accordingly, you put yourself and your friends at risk. One Death
Eater you don’t bring down is one Death Eater that will go after someone you love.”
“Are you telling us to kill?” Cho Chang asked.
“I'm telling you to make sure they don’t get up again. If you do that by killing them or not,
that’s on you.”
“Oh, fuck not again,” Draco groaned and winced. “This fucking thing is burning. He—Fuck,
he’s telling us to guard the Ravenclaw tower—fucking hell, he believes Harry’s going to go
there.”
Hermione took Draco’s hand and let him squeeze it as much as he needed it. There wasn’t
anything she could do to alleviate his pain other than staying with him as he bore it.
Sirius had returned and he kneeled in front of Draco, “Hold on Little Cousin,” he said
squeezing Draco’s knee. He got back up and turned to the group, “The Order is coming.” He
found Madam Pomfrey among them, “Poppy, I will help you get the ones to Aberforth, he
will send them to Grimmauld Place. Mrs Greengrass, Mrs Zabini and Andromeda will
receive them.”
Pomfrey nodded, “Good. Kathleen and Andromeda did healer training with me in their last
year, they will know how to help. I can stay in the castle for…” she hesitated, “the others.”
At the same time, Blaise asked, “Mother is here?”
Remus nodded, “She returned to the UK earlier today, after Hermione and Harry told us they
were in the Manor.”
“My mum is helping too?” Daph asked, slightly surprised.
“Yes, she’s been helping a lot getting things to and from Narcissa and Andromeda.”
Daphne gasped. She wasn’t the only one surprised, a few other students were exchanging
looks and murmuring among them. Hermione realised that just like their D.A. meetings, her
Slytherin friends weren’t entirely accepted or trusted.
The door opened and loads of people came out: all the other Weasleys, Shacklebolt, Tonks,
Fleur, some older Gryffindor students and a few other Aurors.
“Quite the gathering here,” Shacklebolt said and walked over to Remus and Sirius, greeting
the pair of them.
Hermione noted that Madam Pomfrey had the youngest students all lined up already and
Ginny was hissing fighting with her father. Luna, who was also still sixteen, was pretending
to not notice the students going one after the other through the passage.
“We need to speak with the other professors, there are hundreds of other students who need to
be evacuated.” Madam Pomfrey said.
“McGonagall is probably doing it already,” Draco replied, he had gotten up again, but his
overall complexion was still paler than normal. “Professor Snape called her when Hermione
and Harry arrived.”
“Professor Snape?” Madam Pomfrey asked and was echoed by a lot of people.
“He's with us,” Sirius replied, “He's always been with us.” His voice was firm. Merlin, how
far they had all gone.
“But—” Shacklebolt tried,

“Snape, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy are with us,” Sirius spoke again, his voice louder.
“They’ve been spies for many years now.”
“Dumbledore—”
“He knew he was going to die,” Hermione said, her family tensed around her, but she wasn’t
going to say it. Some truths were better if they stayed hidden, “Dumbledore got hit by a curse
trying to destroy one of the things we’ve just finished destroying. He was dying and he knew
it. He asked Dad to do it in case You-Know-Who asked Draco to do it.”
“Honestly,” Harry said with a shrug, “I've been calling him ‘dad' for over a year already. If
you can’t trust the green ones—” he pointed at Hermione and the Slytherin group around her,
“—you can trust me on it. I trust Snape and the Malfoys completely.” And he looked at her
and her friends once more, “And I also trust them with everything.”
Draco gave Harry a small nod, “Thanks, mate.”
“Oh,” Harry smirked, “That’s Distinguished Brother-in-Law for you,”
“Fuck off,” Draco replied and a lot of people snorted and laughed at that.
Sirius messed up both Harry’s and Draco’s hair to their immense annoyance. “All right,
Kingsley, you are the Chief Auror, how do you want to do this?”
“Someone needs to stay here to keep the room, correct?” People nodded, “Pomfrey and Mrs
Weasley, can you do it? The Head of Houses will have students for you.”
“Yes,” they said together.
“Everyone else, let’s go back to your Common Rooms — and those who have graduated,
time to reminisce - if McGonagall is indeed aware of what’s happening, she’s going to want
everyone gathered together in the Great Hall.”
“She can’t go to our Common Room,” Draco said, pointing to Hermione. “The Carrows will
know at once.”
“I was a Slytherin too, I will be with all of you.”
Draco didn’t look very satisfied, but he nodded. Hermione had an idea, “Actually, we have
two more Slytherins.” She said, “And no offence Mr Shacklebolt, I trust them more than I do
you.”
“None taken,” he replied easily. He stopped for a moment and his expression changed. “Tell
your godmother where to go.” He said with a snort.
Hermione grinned.
Students and Alumni meeting in the Slytherin Common Room, she sent.
We are on our way.

They all got ready to move, Hermione and Theo exchanged quick hugs with their Gryffindor
side of the family and Neville explained to the new arrivals how the door worked. “We never
know where it may lead us, but it’s to keep them waiting for us outside.”
The six Slytherins - finally, six again - and Shacklebolt left the Room of Requirement
together and thankfully they came out on the first floor, so they quickly moved towards the
dungeons and their Common Room.
Hermione spotted Lucius and Narcissa ahead of them and the Malfoys turned to wait so they
could catch up. Lucius looked a bit unwell and Hermione realised that Draco hadn’t been the
only one hurting moments ago. Lucius and her dad had been as well.
“Kingsley,”
“Lucius,” the Auror replied and then snorted, “I must admit, I much prefer this method of
avoiding prison than the one you had last time around.”
Blaise and Theo snorted into their hands and Hermione even sniggered. Lucius looked at her
showing how not impressed he was. “Character development.”
“As always, just in time.”
They entered the Common Room and the reaction was instantaneous. Everyone stopped what
they were doing to look a the sight of them. It was an odd group: an Auror, two of the most
Wanted, a Death Eater family and a group of renegade students.
Professor Slughorn was the first to react, “What on…”
“The Dark Lord is coming,” Lucius announced, speaking over the current Head of Slytherin.
At once he carried more respect and reverence than Slughorn, even though his current
position seemed confusing to the students. “He’s not coming for a chat. We will fight, the
Order is here and the rest of the Death Eaters are coming.” He said, keeping his voice level
and his standing purposefully blurry. “Everyone who’s under the age of seventeen has to go
with Slughorn to be evacuated. Those over seventeen who do not wish to take part in the
fight may join him as well.”
Slughorn awkwardly waved as though people didn’t know who or where he was.
“And those willing to fight for the Dark Lord?” One of the Carrow twins asked. People
murmured around her.
“Those can stay in the Common Room for the time being.” He replied and Hermione
controlled her expression, she knew he had a hidden plan. “Those willing to defend Hogwarts
against the Dark Lord can join Shacklebolt, here.”
Theo moved to Kingsley's side at once and he got some cries of “Traitor!” As he did.
Greg raised his wand and Lucius swiftly removed it from him. “No.” He said simply, “We are
not savages here. We are currently on neutral grounds and people have the right to go where
they please, regardless of their treacherous decisions.”
Hermione moved as well, joining Theo. Pansy, Daphne and Blaise moved too. No one else
joined them.
The majority of students joined Slughorn, including Tracy and Milli, both over the age of
seventeen.
A handful of students - the Carrow twins and some sixth years who Hermione guessed would
be receiving their Mark soon - stayed still.
“Take them,” Lucius told Slughorn. “Draco and Cissy will show you where.” Draco hesitated
for a moment, glancing at her. She knew he had the same feeling as her, the bone-deep refusal
to be apart again. But then he nodded and left the Common Room with the students, leading
the way.
Hermione knew Lucius didn’t want the students loyal to the Dark Lord to see his son and
wife joining the other side.
“I will be with the Headmaster,” Lucius said, looking at the junior Death Eater group, “Stay
here. The Dark Lord will call us when he arrives.”
“Why can’t we just get rid of them?” The other Carrow twin asked.
“Because right now we are at a numerical advantage, but once we cross these doors we are
alone.” Lucius explained, “The same deal has been struck with the other Houses, no one is
fighting for the Dark Lord in the other houses,” The small group scowled, “No magical blood
needs to be spilt before it’s time.”
They nodded but kept their glaring eyes on Hermione and her friends. A promise and a threat
in their eyes.
“Come with me,” Shacklebolt told them, motioning towards the door.
They left, with Lucius bringing up the rear and closing the door behind him. He turned to
Shacklebolt, “Do you happen to know the locking spell?”
“I do.”
“Good, let’s do it then.”
Hermione watched transfixed as Shacklebolt and Lucius cast together an intricate and
complicated pattern of runes on the door.
“What is that?” Pansy asked.
“They won’t be leaving the dormitory tonight,” Shacklebolt replied. “Wanting to fight for the
Dark Lord is not punishable by law, but if they actually did it, they would end up facing
prison.” He turned to Lucius, “It was a neat idea, did I come from you?”
Lucius rolled his eyes, “Of course it did.” He said, “BARON!” Lucius shouted and their
house’s ghost appeared in the corridor, “Make sure the students in there, remain in there.”
The ghostly figure nodded and stood in front of the door, his chains pooled on the floor under
him.
They rushed to the Great Hall, where the rest of the school had congregated. The four tables
had been removed, but the banners were still hanging over them. Narcissa and Draco were
waiting for them, alone under the Slytherin colours.
Hermione got on her tiptoes and found her brother, Remus and Sirius at the front of the
Gryffindor group, by far, the largest one.
“Thank you for joining us,” Professor McGonagall said and everyone turned to see who had
just entered the Hall. Lucius’ name was whispered through the hall. The professor ignored it
all and turned back to the group, “We have already placed protection around the castle,” she
said, “but it is unlikely to hold for very long unless we reinforce it. I must ask you, therefore,
to be very sure of the decision you just made. There is no shame in changing your mind, you
—”
But her final words were drowned as a different voice echoed throughout the Hall. It was
high, cold, and clear: There was no telling from where it came; it seemed to issue from the
walls themselves. “I know that you are preparing to fight.” Some people screamed, but no
one moved, students clutched each other, looking around in terror for the source of the sound.
“Your efforts are futile. You cannot fight me. I do not want to kill you. I have great respect
for the teachers of Hogwarts. I do not want to spill magical blood.”
Hermione held onto Draco’s hand, gripping it while her heart beat thunderously inside her
ribcage.
“Give me Harry Potter,” Voldemort’s voice said, “and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry
Potter, and I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Harry Potter and his sister, and you
will be rewarded. You have until midnight.”
The silence swallowed them all again. Every head turned every eye in the place seemed to
have found Harry, to hold him frozen in place. Pansy took a step forward and Hermione
furrowed her brows.
“Well, I draw the line at the give ‘his sister’ so… He’s right there, you can take him.” Before
her brother could speak, there was a massive movement. They watched as the majority of
Gryffindors in front of him had all stepped forward, threatening, looking at Pansy. Then the
Hufflepuffs and the Ravenclaws did the same, all of them with their backs to Harry. Pansy
smirked, “Cute.”
“Thank you, Miss Parkinson,” Professor McGonagall said in a clipped voice. “You will leave
the Hall first with Mr. Filch.”
Pansy rolled her eyes, “Honestly, it was a joke.” Her tone carried that it was obvious. “He's
unbothered and his sister here is too.” She pointed at Hermione with her thumb. Hermione
saw how Ginny Weasley had her wand trained on Pansy and her hand tight on Harry’s. Pansy
licked her lips and clicked her tongue. “And truly, you removed enough points from us last
year when you caught me on my knees for him last year, you should know better.”
All around, people gasped. Hermione felt her cheeks reddening in embarrassment; Narcissa
next to her made a sound of disappointment. Blaise snorted, “She's been holding that one for
months,” he whispered to her.
Her dad cleaned his throat, “However educational that was, we don't have enough time to
crack jokes. We have half an hour until midnight. Kingsley, if you please.”
The Auror nodded and stepped forward, walking to the raised platform where the other
professors were. “We need to act fast! A battle plan has been agreed between the teachers of
Hogwarts and the Order of the Phoenix. Professors Flitwick, Sprout, and McGonagall are
going to take groups of fighters up to the three highest towers – Ravenclaw, Astronomy, and
Gryffindor – where they’ll have a good overview, excellent positions from which to work
spells. Meanwhile, Remus” – her godfather stepped forward – “Arthur” – Mr Weasley did the
same – “and I will take groups into the grounds. We’ll need somebody to organise the
defence of the entrances of the passageways into the school—”
“Sounds like a job for us,” called Fred, indicating himself and George, and Shacklebolt
nodded his approval.
“Sirius, Narcissa and Lucius, you will take groups with you to the Viaduct, the edge of the
lake and the road that goes to Hogsmeade,” Shacklebolt added and the three mentioned
stepped forward as well. “All right, let’s divide up the troops!”
“Where are the Carrows?” Hermione asked.
“Currently undisposed in my classroom,” Professor Flitwick answered, “And I’ve missed

you, my dear.”
Hermione grinned at him quickly before turning to decide where she’d go. Shacklebolt had
divided all of them.
No one was walking towards the Malfoys, so Hermione knew she would be with one of them.
She caught her brother’s eye and he nodded. Harry joined Narcissa, so Hermione walked
towards Lucius. Pansy, Daphne, Draco, Luna and Neville joined her as well. Theo, Blaise,
Ginny and two former players of the Gryffindor Quidditch team joined Harry.
The majority of the Hufflepuffs joined Professor Sprout to go to the Astronomy tower, the
same happened with the Ravenclaws and Professor Flitwick. Some of the Gryffindors joined
Professor McGonagall while others joined Remus, Sirius, Arthur and the Weasley twins.
Scattered Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws closed up the groups, alongside the other Order
members who went to those groups that looked smaller.
They set off to their designated places, everyone had their wands ready and their faces set.
This was it, the fight was coming and they were facing it right in the eye.
Lucius led them to the Hogsmeade road, while Sirius went to the Viaduct and Narcissa took
the Black Lake’s shore.
They weren’t alone. All lined up, held back by an invisible barrier Hermione knew it must be
the protective spells, dozens and dozens of wizards and witches waited. No one was masked,
so Hermione knew they were Snatchers.
“Now we wait,” Lucius said and instinctively, they all stood in fighting position. Their breath
fogged in front of them and Hermione already dreaded the moment they needed to run away
with all the snow under their feet.
The ground beneath them shook and they looked up to find hundreds of jets of light firing at
once towards the castle.
“It won’t hold for too long,” Lucius commented and turned to check who was with him once
more. “The darkest spell you cast, the more it drains your magic core, if you are not used to
Dark spells, avoid them, you won’t last half an hour fighting. Be creative, you can do as
much damage with a well-aimed Wingardium Leviosa as the Killing Curse.”
“If I get that fallen branch straight through someone’s eye, you mean?” Luna asked. And in
her dreamy voice, everyone got chills from hearing such violent words.
Even Lucius seemed impressed, “Exactly, little niece.”
“We always have the weirdest family reunions,” Draco mumbled next to her.
The castle quacked behind them and they felt the sizzling of the magic fading as the
protections fell. Their eyes reflected a mixture of fear and determination, for they were about
to face an overwhelming number of Snatchers.
The first spell came with the explosion of something big behind them and soon the air grew
volatile with the milling of spells, the flashing hues of cobalt, emerald and crimson. Daphne
sent the abandoned carriages flying over the Snatchers, taking dozens of them down with the
strength of her throw.
Luna, showing a true Ravenclaw’s creativity, transfigured the Snatchers’ wand into the
strangest of things, while Pansy was the one throwing spears with the tree branches.
Hermione decided it was time to revive her bird show and sent the conjured birds at the
Snatchers.
The Snatchers tried conjuring shields, to hold off the onslaught of spells, but they were flimsy
and easily overpowered. Yet, the number of Snatchers seemed limitless.
“Think bigger, love,” Lucius told her and with a flick of his wand raised the snow from the
floor and turned them into snowballs, “Oppugno!”
And so Hermione did, she raised the snow once more and together with Neville, both of them
transfigured the snow into ice spikes before sending another wave at them.
Fireballs erupted, ablaze with vengeance and the Snatchers burned the grow and the trees
around them, making them reel backwards.
Hermione raised a shield around all of them and the others synchronised their forces. Spells
intertwined in the air, creating ethereal webs of illumination. Pansy and Luna, raised the
branches from under the ground, tripping the Snatchers as they advanced; Neville and
Daphne made them snare and entwine the Snatchers while Lucius and Draco made them
bleed.
Yet, Hermione could see her friends faltering, exhaustion falling onto every one of them. As
smoke and dust clouded the battlefield, they felt the ground shake and heard growls.
“Giants," Lucius gasped. “RUN!” He shouted.
They ran and Hermione held the shield as they did, thankfully bouncing off spells off their
backs. “Father, mirages!” Draco called and Lucius nodded. The Malfoys wove their wand to
create mirages, confusing and disorienting the Snatchers. They replicated themselves,
versions that had not been the fog from the spells would be easily dismissed, but their current
situation made it difficult for the Snatchers to identify their true targets. The illusionary
decoys bought them precious moments, but the sheer mass of their adversaries posed an
insurmountable barrier.
The five of them returned to the grounds, finding Narcissa and her group coming from the
opposite direction.
“Giants!” Lucius called, and they quickly regrouped to face what was coming.
“What did you have?” Pansy asked Theo, she was panting and he helped her to her feet.
Hermione noted that the side of the castle had been destroyed and spells flew around the now
open corridors and classrooms. “Snatchers. They were coming by boats, we easily drowned
them.” Theo replied.
“SPIDERS!” Came another shout and they turned to find Sirius and his group coming
running, the three groups now gathered together in the courtyard. “The Suits of Armours are
fighting them off, but they won’t be holding them off for much longer!”
The giants and the remaining Snatchers found them before the spiders and they all resumed
their fight. The ground beneath their feet trembled from the seismic forces of magic. Their
incantations grew louder, deciding to save energy without non-verbal spells.
But each falling enemy was merely replaced by a fresh wave, crushing their spirit under the
relentless assault, the spiders replaced the Snatchers and Hermione felt her entire body
shaking from exertion. “Black, Cissy, Draco. Imperio on three on the giant.” Lucius called,
“Sent him towards the Spiders. We can use his cub to our advantage.”
Their determination hardened, Hermione and the others all nodded to each other, grouping in
fours to do the same with the other giants, their spells fuelled with unparalleled intensity.
Fatigue etched deep lines on their faces, their robes tattered and singed. Hermione's body
ached, and her spirits wavered, yet she fought on.
The giants were controlled and the battle spread around the grounds, Hermione saw Remus’
and Arthur’s groups arriving, they were the ones fighting the cloaked figures. Everyone
seemed to be drawing from stores of untapped power. Hermione found her dad, fighting two
Death Eaters at once. Yet, no matter how valiant their efforts were, the sheer weight of the
enemy numbers threatened to crush their very existence.
Hope vanished at the sight of the dementors approaching, hundreds of them.
“Fuck me,” Sirius said, his voice weak.
“EVERYONE CAST THE PATRONUS!” Remus shouted.
But her dad was still fighting off Death Eaters, who seemed unbothered by the new arrival.
Levitate dad, she sent to Narcissa and without asking any questions, Narcissa did it. At the
same time, Hermione cast a Bombarda on the ground under the Death Eaters, opening a hole
beneath them. Her dad finished it by burying them.
Hermione felt the cold swallow her and turned to find an entire silvery zoo around her: hare,
boar, fox, wolves, dogs, horse, snakes, lynx, peacock, a goddamned crocodile and cats
fighting off the Dementors.
Her dad doubled next to her, “Dad?” She asked.
“He's calling me,” he answered and squeezed her shoulder with his other hand. “He's at the
Shrieking Shack.”
“Don't go.” She said, tears in her eyes. “Please, don’t go.”
“I must,” he replied. “He will kill me if I don’t.”
“He will kill you if you do!” She retorted, desperate.
“GET INSIDE THE GREAT HALL!” Someone shouted and Hermione turned to see. A
mistake. The moment she turned back, her dad was gone.
“NO!” She screamed, looking at the place her father had vacationed.
People were retreating, but Harry turned at the sound of her voice, he stopped, “What
happened?”
“Dad's gone. Voldemort called him, Harry he’s gone to—”
“Where?” Harry asked, his hand wrapped around her wrist.
“The Shrieking Shack.”
“Let's go.” He said and in the next moment, they were Disapparating.
Harry got them right at the beginning of the tunnel and for a moment they thought they
would be caught at once because the sound of their apparition echoed in the tunnel.
“How—it’s not possible—inside—”
“When the wards fell, all of them fell.” Harry explained and tugged on her hand, “Let's go.”
They moved quickly and silently and entered the house with their hearts pounding in their
ears. They needed to save their dad, but they could also possibly make things worse.
“I – I have no explanation, my Lord.” They heard coming from the other room. Their dad.
“I sought a third wand, Severus. The Elder Wand, the Wand of Destiny, the Deathstick. I took
it from its previous master. I took it from the grave of Albus Dumbledore."
They could only see Voldemort’s back and half of their dad’s face. It was like a death mask:
marble white and so still that when he spoke, it was a shock to see that anyone lived behind
the blank eyes.
“My Lord – let me go to the boy—”
Voldemort cut him off, ignoring his plea, “All this long night, when I am on the brink of
victory, I have sat here,” said Voldemort, his voice barely louder than a whisper, “wondering,
wondering, why the Elder Wand refuses to be what it ought to be, refuses to perform as
legend says it must perform for its rightful owner... and I think I have the answer.” Dad did
not speak. “Perhaps you already know it? You are a clever man, after all, Severus. You have
been a good and faithful servant, and I regret what must happen.”
“My Lord—”
“The Elder Wand cannot serve me properly, Severus, because I am not its true master. The
Elder Wand belongs to the wizard who killed its last owner. You killed Albus Dumbledore.
While you live, Severus, the Elder Wand cannot be truly mine.” Hermione’s eyes widened.
“My Lord!” Snape protested, raising his wand.
“It cannot be any other way,” Voldemort said. “I must master the wand, Severus. Master the
wand, and I master Potter at last. You have served me well, I will give you the honour of
dying with your greatest creation.”
And then Voldemort swiped the air with the Elder Wand. Dad gasped and his back hit the
wall, for a moment Hermione let herself believe it had done nothing, but then the spell was
revealed, and blood dyed his shirt.
Voldemort disapparated, leaving his so-called most faithful servant choking on his blood and
Hermione rushed.
“Dad,” She cried, running to him and immediately trying to stop the bleeding coming from
everywhere. Harry kneeled on her side, doing the same.
“It’s okay… My daughter—”
“Shut up,” She snapped. “Dobby!” She cried, her hands bloodied and trembling.
“Dobby is here, Dobby has the bag!”
Hermione immediately went to the bag, upending everything on the floor next to her, “Harry
your potion book, dad’s book” She said, throwing the book to him, “Find the spell, there must
be the counter—”
“Herm—” He was stopped by his coughing.
“I said shut up Dad,” Hermione said and resumed casting all the healing spells she knew, at
the same time pouring blood-replenishing potions down his throat.
“Harry!”
“Here,” he said putting the book in front of her face, her hands were crimson, and she didn’t
dare touch the book.
She began reading the incantation, the words foreign to her, at the same time, Harry was
pressing the wounds, trying to keep the blood in.
It didn’t seem to be working and her dad was getting weaker by the second.
“My children—”
“Stop,” Harry said, his fist shaking against dad’s chest wound.
Hermione had never tried Legilimency before, but she pressed the wand to her father’s
temple and searched for the spell, her father was weak and let her in, he tried showing her
other memories, his feelings for her, but she ignored it all and focused on finding the memory
of Rabastan. Her heart was throbbing in her chest she listened to the incantation and paid
attention to the wand movement.
The version in the book was not complete. She would have to do it by memory. Thank Merlin
she had a perfect one.
Hermione pulled out of her dad’s mind and set to work, her voice trembling and her wand
almost falling off her hand with how much it shook. Dad’s eyes were closed now and his
breathing was the faintest thing. Harry put the book aside and wrapped his hand around hers,
holding her steady.
He grabbed his wand with his other hand and began repeating what she was doing, a second
behind her. Saying her words and mimicking her movements.
A pool of blood had formed around them and her dad was unconscious, but he was alive.
Faintly so, but alive. It was painstakingly slow, they kept casting until the very last wound
closed. Hermione and Harry had their shoulders pressed against each other, each holding the
other standing, fighting against the magic depletion threatening to take over.
Gasping and still trembling, she grabbed the third vial of blood-replenishing potion. The last
one. Hermione opened her dad’s mouth and poured it all inside, tilting his head back so he’d
swallow.
“Did you do it?” Harry asked, his voice small.
“I think so.” She whispered, terrified to jinx it.

Hermione cast a diagnosis spell and saw that he didn’t sustain any internal bleeding but his
blood level was still low. “It will take a while before he wakes up.” She said, “his body will
need to produce the blood he lost.”
“Get the cloak, let’s move him to another room and hide him under it.” He said, “We can’t
carry him back,”
She nodded and together they lifted him and carried him to the other room.
They were dripping blood and their steps and clothes gave them away. “Do you think
someone else will come here?” She asked, “If they follow the blood they will find him.”
Voldemort’s voice reverberated from the walls and floor, scaring them so much that they
almost dropped their dad. His creepy voice spell wasn’t only inside Hogwarts, but to all the
surrounding area, that the residents of Hogsmeade and all those still fighting in the castle
would hear him as clearly as if he stood beside them, his breath on the back of their necks, a
deathblow away. She shivered, trying to shake his voice away.
“You have fought,” said the high, cold voice, “valiantly. Lord Voldemort knows how to value
bravery. Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die,
one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilt is a loss and a
waste. Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat immediately. You have
one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured. I speak now, Harry Potter,
directly to you. You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. I
shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come
to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommences. This time, I shall enter the fray
myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman, and
child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour.”
Hermione looked at her brother and saw him swallowing the news and shrugging it away.
“We have time,” he said, “we can take him back.”
“Harry…”
“Let him come, Hermione. We can take him.” He said, “He intended to kill Dad, we will kill
him instead.”
She nodded and together they carried their dad out of the house and through the tunnel. It
could only be an hour or so from dawn, yet it was pitch-black. There were small groups
spread across the lawn at the front of the castle. They hurried toward the stone steps. A lone
clog, the size of a small boat, lay abandoned in front of them. The castle was unnaturally
silent. There were no flashes of light now, no bangs or screams or shouts. The flagstones of
the deserted entrance hall were stained with blood. Emeralds were scattered all over the floor,
along with pieces of marble and splintered wood. Part of the bannisters had been blown away.
“Where is everyone?” Hermione whispered.
"The Great Hall.”

The doors were opened and inside the Hall was crowded. The survivors stood in groups, their
arms around each other’s necks. The injured were being treated upon the raised platform by
Madam Pomfrey with the help of Andromeda, Nneka Zabini and Kathleen Greengrass.
Firenze was amongst the injured; his flank poured blood and he shook where he lay, unable to
stand.
Hermione quickly found the dead. Her eyes scanned the bodies, dreading the moment she
found someone she loved. Hermione could not see the body, because his family surrounded
him. George was kneeling at the head; Mrs. Weasley was lying across her son's chest, her
body shaking, Mr. Weasley stroking her hair while tears cascaded down his cheeks. The other
twin. It was the only Weasley she couldn’t see.
Remus and Sirius rushed to them, Draco coming close behind.
“What happened?” Remus asked, helping them to carry Dad towards the group of healers.
“Voldemort,” Harry replied. “He tried to kill dad, we—Hermione—” Harry’s eyes filled with
tears.
“It was so close,” She whispered and at once Draco had his arms around her, Sirius having
replaced her hold on dad.
“He sent me a message,” Draco whispered against her hair, “He told me you were there. He
gave me a message, but he will get to tell you now. Love, you saved him.”
She nodded against his chest, “Did we lose anyone?”
“Daph got hurt pretty badly, but they patched her back up. She’s fine now. Chang’s dead.
Fred Weasley is too. Collin Creevey returned with some other younger students, they are all
dead.”
“And their side?” She asked and Draco walked with her to the corner where the Slytherins
had huddled close.
“Tracy is dead,” Draco answered, “She returned to fight. Vince is dead too. Someone released
them from the dungeons, there’s a hole where our door was. “He died in the fight, the Carrow
twins are dead too, Hestia and Flora I mean. Alecto and Amycus escaped and joined
Voldemort in the Forbidden Forest. But Greg’s father and Rockwood are dead as well.”
Hermione crouched on the floor in front of Daph, who was sitting between Pansy and Theo.
Her arm was in a cast and the side of her face had a plaster. “What happened?” She asked.
“Rockwood tried burning me to a crisp, but Theo and Blaise finished him first.”
“I'm so glad you are okay,” Hermione said, squeezing Daph’s hand.
“Me too. And glad that you and Harry are back. We got scared when we heard you two had
disappeared.”
“He called Dad to kill him. Voldemort. We saw him. He used Dad’s spell, the Sectumsempra
curse. I—” she shivered, “It was very close.”
Daphne squeezed her hand back and Pansy leaned in to kiss Hermione’s temple, “You did it,
Hermione.”
She inhaled and sat down, crossing her legs in front of her. Theo and Blaise closed around
her and Draco sat down as well, his front against her back. “So many people have died,” she
said, “And it is still not over. How long do we have?”
“Twenty minutes more or less,” Blaise replied.
There was not much else to say. They were together, alive and mostly not injured. It was
already much better than many others inside the Great Hall. The line of dead was a long one
and of the injured was even longer. She had saved her dad and brought him back, Remus and
Sirius were alive, Draco’s parents were talking with Andromeda, Tonks, Luna and the newly
arrived Xenophilius.
Hermione leaned back against Draco and pointed his parents to him, “You do have the
weirdest family reunions.”
Draco snorted and before he could reply, they heard the sound of hooves on stone and
everyone turned to the entrance hall.
Centaurs, dozens of them.
Firenze, their professor tried to stand and couldn’t. Hagrid was the only one tall enough to
help him. “What are you doing here, Bane?” Firenze asked.
“If you are still fighting, we are joining you.” He replied and all around people gasped.
“Why now? What changed?” He asked.
“They’ve gathered in our Forest. We’ve heard their plans for this world, this school. We
won’t allow it. Magic is not to be mistreated like that.”
The house elves appeared next, hundreds of them, led by Dobby and surprisingly, Kreacher,
who had the fake locket around his neck. “We is fighting too!” They announced.
Hope spread across the hall, people stood up, sobs subsided and the healers gave orders to
take the injured and the dead to the hospital wing.
They didn’t have much time left so everyone helped as they could.
“I can still fight,” Daphne said.
“Don't even think about it.” Theo snapped.
“I'm serious! It’s not even my wand arm. I’m seeing this through.”
“You—”
“I was in Hogwarts these past few months. I’m taking my school back.”
And that was it.
“HERMIONE!” Harry shouted across the hall, “DAD IS AWAKE!”
She sprinted forward, pushing people out of the way to get to her father. Dad was sitting up
against the wall, with Harry on one side and the Malfoys on the other.
“Dad!” She said, her eyes filling up at the sight of him.
“Hello, my love.” He greeted her with a small smile. He still looked a bit pale, but he was
awake.
“How are you feeling?” She asked, lowering herself next to Harry.
“I'm all right now, thanks to you.” He replied and she put her hand on his when he motioned
to grab it. “Thank you, Hermione. For not giving up.
She shook her head, “Never.”
“We don’t have much time,” he said and motioned to Lucius to help him up.
“You are too weak to fight still!”
“I’m perfectly fine, love.” He replied. “I need you to pay attention now. All of you.” They all
nodded, “Voldemort doesn’t control the Elder Wand, it doesn’t answer to him properly. He
thought it was because he didn’t kill Dumbledore, just stole the wand. That’s why he tried to
kill me because he believes I was the one to kill him.”
She nodded, “I did it.” Hermione said in a low voice. Lucius’ eyes widened at that. That
piece of news hadn’t gotten to him yet. “So… Does that mean the Elder Wand is mine?”
“Were you the one to disarm him?” He asked her.
“No,” she shook her head, “it was Draco.”
Lucius shuddered and Narcissa made a small sound.
“It answers to him, then.”
“But what does that mean? Voldemort's mortal,” Hermione said.
“It's wand lore,” Narcissa replied, “I often overheard Olivander’s explanations. “Just like
your spells with someone else’s wand won’t work as well, your wand in someone’s hand will
refuse to attack you.”
“Draco has the biggest chance of winning against him in a duel, that is.” She concluded and
they nodded.
“I will do it,” Draco said and Hermione turned to see him standing behind her. “I can do it.”
“We will all be there,” Lucius said, assuring his son. “You won’t be duelling him on his own.
When the time comes, I will be fighting him with you.”
“So am I,” Dad said, nodding at his godson.
“And I,” Harry finished.
More people had circled them and Hermione turned surprised at the crowd.
“Bella and I have a lot of discuss,” Andromeda announced and Hermione saw the way the
second eldest sister looked at Narcissa. “She killed my husband, Cissy.”
“I know. I—I will be with you, Andy.”
The first hit was the smashing of the windows. The glass exploded and they all cowered from
the dust.
“I warned you.” Came Voldemort’s voice reverberating once more.
There was no time to continue conversations, as Death Eaters flew inside, casting spells.
The final battle had arrived. The momentaneous peace in the great hall now seemed
something of another life. The time had come for the students, professors, and allies of
Hogwarts to face their fears and rise to the occasion one last time.
As the Battle of Hogwarts commenced, the castle echoed with both the thunderous roar of
spells and the desperate cries of those who fought valiantly. Hermione had ended up fighting
alongside Remus, Theo and Blaise, the four of them fending off Sewlyn and Jugson.
From the Great Hall walls, spells collided in vibrant bursts of colour, illuminating the sky like
fireworks on a moonless night. The air was thick with smoke and the smell of burning wood
as spells caused destruction, shattering whatever was left, and sending debris flying
everywhere.
Not so far from her, she could see another group of students and Professors facing Death
Eaters. There was no time for doubt or uncertainty, every spell cast was precise and
calculated.
Someone screamed and Hermione turned just enough to see that Voldemort had joined the
fray, with his blood-red eyes blazing, instilling fear in the hearts of even the bravest. No one
fled, but urgency and fright now carried in the spells.
He was met in numbers, Harry, Draco, Dad and Lucius were fighting him together, using the
momentary surprise Voldemort displayed upon seeing not only Severus Snape alive, but
fighting alongside Lucius Malfoy.
“I thought you were dead, sister!” Bellatrix called, her face enraged. “But you’ve turned
instead!” Narcissa didn’t reply, only dodged and cast spells alongside Andromeda, Sirius and
Tonks, a family reunion of sorts. The Carrows tried to join Bellatrix, but she sent them away
with a scream. “THEY ARE MINE!”
She cast an engorging spell on the tongue of the Death Eater in front of her and Blaise waved
his wand, choking Jugson with his own tongue.
“That was nasty,” Remus commented offhandedly.
Despite fighting her own fight, she couldn’t help but glance at the group fighting Voldemort.
Spells clashed like meteors as the four of them and Voldemort engaged in a fierce battle, each
countering and dodging the other's attacks with remarkable skill. Their battle seemed to
transcend mere magic, becoming a testament to the power of love and sacrifice.
She felt it before she saw it: the tide of battle began to turn. Neville, Pansy and Daphne had
defeated the Carrow twins, moved by the months of suffering they had endured on their
hands. The Weasleys were together, and Hermione caught the exact moment that Bill, Ginny
and George cast an Expulso on Avery, causing the body to explode into millions of pieces.
They were free to join Ron, Charlie and Percy as they fought Crabbe Sr and McNair.
Hope was rekindled. Unity had emerged from the chaos, there were no houses among them
anymore, and everyone had grouped in trios and fours to fight Snatchers and the remaining
Death Eaters. Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick and Professor Sprout were doing a
hell of a job in keeping the two remaining giants outside of the castle.
“Merlin, how have I tired of hearing you speak, Sister,” Narcissa said and Hermione only
heard the slash of the Malfoy Matriarch’s wand.
There was a roar somewhere, and Rodolphus looked possessed, but Andromeda side-stepped
the Killing Curse and retributed in kind.
Death Eaters began fleeing, she saw Crabbe Sr Disapparate, alongside Yaxley and Rowle.
Upon their cowardice, the remaining Snatchers began fleeing as well. Hermione thought it
was haste, not that she would complain, but upon another look at Voldemort’s fight, she saw
that he was struggling. The other four - fathers and sons - were pressing down on him,
matching spells and helping one another as though they had fought side by side their entire
lives. The battle raged on, spells and curses colliding like crashing waves, until finally,
triumph was within reach.
“AVADA KEDAVRA!” The voice boomed across the hall and it took a second for Hermione
to place it. Draco. Draco, covered in blood and dust. Draco, who had never looked so fierce
in his entire life, cast the spell that hit Voldemort squarely in the chest.
Voldemort had been defending against Dad and Harry’s joint spell, while Lucius shielded
them, and he was too late to escape his fate.
Finally. His fate had arrived. Voldemort’s body hit the ground with such a humanely thud that
it seemed silly to have once believed he was invincible.
“He's dead!” Someone shouted. And it spread around. Hundreds of voices, “You-Know-Who
is dead!” And “We won!” Came out of their mouths, mixed with relief and surprise,
exhaustion and exhilaration, tears and laughter.
Spells had stopped flying, the dust was settling and there, Hogwarts, scarred but undefeated,
stood. Silence enveloped the grounds. The morning had come at last.
People hugged one another, Hermione quickly found herself surrounded by arms and kisses
and her tears mingled with others. She didn’t know who she was hugging anymore, her vision
blurred and the voices became the same as her ears rang.
But Hermione recognised that last pair of arms, strong and resolute around her waist, she
remembered the way her body swayed when he twirled her like that and most of all, she
knew the feel of his lips and the taste of his kiss. “We did it,” he said against her lips. “We did
it.” The sun rose steadily over Hogwarts, and the Great Hall blazed with life and light.
Hermione refused to let go of Draco, kissing him and kissing him for as long as her breath
allowed her.
"That has gone for long enough,” Someone said and physically pulled Draco away from
Hermione. She saw her brother and crashed into him.
“It’s over.” She whispered to him, “We can go home now.”
“We can go home now.” He repeated and Home materialised in front of them, pulling them to
his chest.
“You did it, the two of you did it,” Dad spoke, planting kisses in both of their hairs.
“We all did it.” She answered and pulled away to see it for herself.
The Blacks were all together, Remus with them. Alive.
Pansy, Daphne, Theo and Blaise were together. Alive.
The Malfoys were together with the Lovegoods. Alive.
Neville had joined the Weasleys and Hermione’s heart squeezed at the sight of them. They
were mostly alive.
Someone had moved Voldemort’s body and laid it in a chamber off the Hall, away from the
bodies of Fred, Colin Creevey, Cho Chang and fifty others who had died fighting him.
Professor McGonagall had replaced the House tables, but nobody was sitting accordingly.
Everyone was jumbled together: professors, students, parents, wizards and witches who had
come to help, ghosts, centaurs and house elves. Grawp peered in through a smashed window,
and people were throwing food into his laughing mouth.
Hermione went to properly speak with everyone, to hug once more her friends and family
and mourn their lost ones.
She sat finally at the Slytherin table, her friends joining her and coincidently - or not - finding
their exact places from the first time they sat down at that table, right after their Sorting.
They made plans because now they could. Discussed travel destinations and summers
together. Daphne told them that Padma had returned to fight and they were in the talks of
making it work again. Hermione smiled happily at the news, surprised and looked around to
try to find the Ravenclaw girl. Blaise had decided to find an apartment in London, he wanted
to experience freedom and independence. He had winked at Theo while saying it and they all
laughed. Hermione announced that she planned to visit her muggle parents and then return to
live with her dad for a while. She hoped Harry would go with her.
“He better,” Theo replied with a grin, “I am an only son, after all.”
Pansy told them her plans were kind of on hold and she had to do something before got back
to them. The others were surprised when she got up to apparently start working on that
straight away, but Hermione had seen Harry leave the Great Hall just moments before. And
Pansy Parkinson hadn’t lost track of Harry Potter since the moment he arrived in the castle.
Peeves began singing, for once students and professors alike didn’t make him stop, some
even joined him once they understood the lyrics and the melody.
“Let's agree on something?” Hermione asked and they all nodded. “Next September, if the
school is open to us to redo our year, let’s do it. For one more time. One last time. Together.
As it should be.”
Blaise laughed, throwing his head back. “Only you can make us come back to study once an
extra year and turn it into something heartfelt.”
“Are you doing it?” She asked, an eyebrow raised.
“Of course, I am.”
She turned to Theo. “Count on me, Granger.”
“Me too,” Daphne said. “I speak for Pansy as well.”
“And get the chance of being Head Boy once more and this time with you? Absolutely.”
Draco grinned.
“That's settled then.”
Chapter End Notes
The title and the quote at the beginning belong to Dead Horse by Hayley Williams
Tell me in the comments what you guys think!! As always you can find me on twitter it's
moonyhoax
Epilogue
Chapter Notes
Here we are! in the last instalment of the Missing Sister Universe.
if you haven't read it and are curious about it, I posted the last chapter of the
Pansy/Harry series yesterday and you can read it here. I recommend reading it first and
then coming back here.
I hope you enjoy!
Seven months later.
“I truly can’t believe this is something that is actually happening,” Harry said. He looked at
the group around him, making a face.
Hermione snorted, but she didn’t voice her agreement.
“Don't you find us able, Harry?” Sirius asked, theatrically outraged.
“I knowMoony is. You? I’m not so sure.”
“Oh come on!” Sirius replied, “I can even do the same trick Minny always did in her first
class with the firsties!”
Theo snorted, “She was elegant doing so, you will probably knock something off with your
tail.”
“I will not!”
Narcissa sighed, Hermione couldn't help but notice how much younger her godmother
looked. It was like the years she lost in the war had returned to her in these past seven
months. “I don’t know why I agreed with this,” she said. “I barely began to tolerate my
cousin again. I do think I am pushing it by working with you.” She told her cousin, who only
grinned at her.
“I don’t see any of you worried about me.” Her dad said. Nneka was by his side and he had
an arm around her waist. Her latest wedding had fell through in only a few months and she
had announced that she would refrain from marrying again for at least a year or two. “Remus
and I barely survived each other working together during the first time. Now I will have to
deal with Sirius as well?”
“You did get me fired that time, maybe I will pay you back.”
“Please,” Dad drawled, “Do get me fired.” He said and Hermione chuckled.
“Please don’t.” Aunt Cissy said at once, "I don’t want to have to deal with the older years.”
“Thank Merlin for small mercies,” Draco muttered behind her. Hermione squeezed his arm in
agreement.
Pansy raised a hand and Hermione bit her lower lip, trying to contain the laughter even before
Pansy said anything. “I'd like to say that I wasn’t even present when you all agreed with this,”
Pansy pointed at Hermione and Draco, “And I add that had I known that I’d lose my Head
privileges this time that I have a boyfriend to enjoy said privileges with, I would have
decided otherwise.”
“You were not present,” Blaise reminded her. “And besides, Hermione really didn’t give any
of us much choice.”
Pansy clicked her tongue, “I had more important things to do then.”
“Oh, we know.” Draco, Theo and Hermione said at the same time.
“I do think this is all a ploy so McGonagall can call for her retirement,” Uncle Lucius
commented. He too looked better, healthier. Merlin, even happy. “There’s no way she will
last more than a year with this new staff.”
He had avoided Azkaban because of course he did. A few days after the final battle, Uncle
Lucius had sat down with the newly appointed Minister of Magic Shacklebolt for a hearing
that lasted hours. He had to share his memories, answer questions under the Veritasserum and
have at least eight people testifying on his behalf to land the agreement he was now on: one
year of controlled use of his wand, partial house arrest and answering to every call and
question the Minister might have for him to fully dismantle Voldemort's net.
Sirius rolled his eyes, “You are only jealous your wife got a job before you did.”
Lucius sighed, “If you cared enough, you’d know that Generational Wealth is a full-time
job.”
Hermione snorted.
“I still find it extremely upsetting how my boyfriend will have his entire family in school.
That’s like, zero privacy.” Pansy said. She used the word boyfriend as though there was a
single person in the wizarding world who didn't know she and Harry were dating.
“I find it extremely upsetting finding your underwear all over my house Miss Parkinson,”
Dad said, making Pansy and Harry blush and getting roaring laughter out of the others.
“We share that Severus,” Remus said with a sigh, “We share that.”
Nneka glared at her son, “I taught you better than that.”

“How do you know it’s mine?” Blaise asked. “We are four men over there. It could be
literally any of us!”
Hermione sniggered and was silently glad that the manor was big enough and with enough
elves to clean up after her and Draco. Not that she left her underwear around the house.
“You didn’t even wear yours this summer,” Draco whispered against the shell of her ear. She
could hear his smirk.
“Let's make a toast,” Narcissa announced and two of the Manor’s elves showed up with trays
and glasses filled with champagne. “To new beginnings, to big families and old friends.”
They all grabbed their glasses and raised them to the air, repeating the words.
Secretly, or maybe not so secretly, Hermione couldn’t wait for September 1st.
That night, after all the guests had left and Dad begrudgingly took Harry and Pansy home
with him, Hermione lay on Draco’s bed, her head on his chest and hands entwined.
“Do you want to try talking to your parents once more before we go back to Hogwarts?” He
asked her.
After the war, he had told her what had happened. How Voldemort just told them the address
without telling what they would find there, that it had been Dad who had warned him. He had
no more than five minutes to work on a plan. Draco had cried when he told her that he
transfigured the number of someone’s else house, that an innocent muggle family had been
killed in place of Hermione’s muggle parents. That he couldn’t plant fake memories in
Vince's and Greg’s heads because Voldemort would know, because the Killing Curse left
marks and he’d know if they hadn’t cast it.
He had told her how he had gone back after and used Imperius on her mother and father to
convince them to move to Australia because he was worried someone would come to check
on their mission.
Hermione had gone to Australia after them and had found them in Melbourne. They had been
furious and Hermione who still walked on a fine line with them found herself without
support. Her parents were not only angry with yet another mind manipulation but also with
the fact that a war had happened and she hadn’t told them. That she had become a wanted
person and that she had taken lives and they were none the wiser.
They were still in Australia, not because they liked there more than they liked England, but
because they knew she would have a harder time going after them on the other side of the
world.
“I will write to them once more, but I will respect their wishes and not go there myself. I
won’t force nothing on them anymore.”
“I am sorry,”
She reached for his face, cradling his cheek, “I know.” Hermione said, “And I prefer they
being angry at me than the alternative.”
It had been a general decision among all of them, to forget and forgive each other's war
crimes. They had all taken lives. Some more than others, some had taken the lives of their
family members like Theo had killed his father and the Black cousins had killed Bellatrix.
Theo had been quick and used the Killing Curse, but Narcissa had been brutal. Hermione had
heard the spell, but not seen what it had done. She didn’t see the tongue Narcissa cut off or
how Sirius had made Bellatrix swallow it. Or how Andromeda had made her bleed from the
inside and that it had been Tonks who broke Bellatrix’s neck.
She did see, however, Neville walking up to the four of them after the dust had settled to say
thank you. All of the four involved in his parent’s torture were now gone, with him taking
Rabastan down himself.
Hogwarts was going to start soon and Hermione and Harry had been invited to reveal the new
fountain in the courtyard: a huge stone piece with the names of all of the dead, students and
faculty. This way Fred Weasley, Cho Chang, Lavender Brown, Colin Creevey and all the
others that made the Fallen Fifty wouldn’t be forgotten.
“Pansy has asked me if they can have the other bedroom,” Draco commented.
“Huh?”
“In the Head Tower,” he clarified, “She wants one of our bedrooms to use with your brother.”
“What did you say?”
“No.” Draco asked with a snort, “I'm not insane to want to move in with you during your
N.E.W.Ts year. You will drive me mad.” He said and she pinched his nipple, getting a scream
and a laugh out of him. “And besides,” he continued, soothing his abused nipple, “They have
sex all the time, it would be a nightmare. They would get in our way of having sex all the
time.”
Hermione laughed, “She will have to make a deal with Daphne. Milli won’t be returning, so
it will be only the two of them.”
He nodded. Neither of them mentioned how Blaise and Theo would be alone in their
dormitory as well because Vince was dead and Greg still had three months in Azkaban.
In the end, they didn’t need to worry about the logistics of their last year because
Headmistress McGonagall had pulled the rug from out of all of them. And no one from the
extensive number of family members who were going to teach at Hogwarts deemed it worthy
of breaking the news to them before they arrived at the rebuilt Great Hall.
Headmistress McGonagall stood in the middle of the hall, smiling at the returning faces and
the new ones, forcing her smile to hold every time she noted the faces that were missing. On
Headmistress McGonagall's left side, Professor Snape sat, Head of Slytherin and Potions
professor for the fifth year and above. Next to him was Professor Malfoy, a newly hired
Potions professor for the first four years. On McGonagall’s other side there was Professor
Black, replacing McGonagall’s place for Transfiguration and next to him, Professor Lupin
had returned to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts and taken the position as Head of
Gryffindor. Professor Sprout and Professor Flitwick were still there, alongside Hagrid,
Professor Vector, Professor Trewlaney and Professor Babbling. Unfortunately, Professor
Sinistra had been killed during the final battle and the centaur, Firenze, would be taking over
her classes. There wouldn’t be Muggle Studies this year, because the subject was going under
some restructuring, with Hermione and other muggle-borns and muggle-raised students
pitching in with ideas.
“—Since this year we have an extra year of students, to better accommodate everyone, the
Head Tower has gone through some changes. The returning students who would have taken
their Seventh Year of schooling last year are going to be sharing the tower.” Draco groaned
so loud next to her that everyone sniggered. His mother looked disappointed. Merlin, Draco
was going to have his mother around all the time. Aunt Cissy still sent elves after them
around the Manor. “—The tower,” McGonagall continued with a glare, “now in addition to
the existing Common Room, has gotten four smaller common areas, representing the four
houses. Once you enter the ones of your respective houses—” she glared at Pansy, “—you
will find two completely new bedrooms, one for the boys and one for the girls.”
Hermione quickly found the ones joining the new Head Tower: six Slytherin students, eight
Gryffindor students, nine Ravenclaws and five Hufflepuffs.
“BORING!” Blaise called and more people sniggered.
“Thank you for your opinion Mr Zabini,” McGonagall replied primly, “Since you’ve found
the changes boring, you will be pleased to know that we have implanted another change.”
They all looked at one another in question. Hermione then looked up at her dad to glare at
him, he only smirked. “Due to Professor Lupin’s monthly absence and Professor Black's—”
her eye twitched at that, “request to be excused during that period to support his partner—”
“Partner,” Theo giggled around the word.
“—the Eighth Year students - as we are calling you now - are going to have the opportunity
to be Teacher Assistants during their absence.” Hermione smiled widely at that, but she was
the only one. “I hope you can find the experience enlightening and challenging at the same
time.”
“Oh fuck me, they are making us work as well.” Draco groaned, thumping his head on the
table.
“You better write to your father,” Blaise giggled, “You also got a job before he did.”
“I'm interning in Generational Wealth,” Draco muttered.
“Oh, I have an idea,” Pansy said, she had been counting heads at the Hufflepuff table.
The eighth-year group left the Hall together after dinner, Draco stomping his way there. But
even his bad mood got postponed as he took in the changes in the room.
Hermione had never been to the tower before, but she was impressed nonetheless. The Main
Common Room was the perfect balance of the four houses, the colours present but not
oppressing as they were in their individual Common Rooms. Hermione recognised the sofas
and armchairs from Slytherin, but the cushions on top were Ravenclaw colours. The
beanbags were clearly from Hufflepuff and the carpets and tables from Gryffindor.
“All right,” Pansy called, clapping her hands to get everyone’s attention. “We can all agree
this new thing is annoying, right?” Some students nodded, and others shrugged. Pansy glared
a them, “Well, I say it is. While McGonagall was giving us the grand news about our part-
time job, I was doing some planning.”
“There we go,” Daphne sighed.
“You Puffs, there are only five of you. Two girls and three boys. I say we vacate one of your
bedrooms and leave it open for booking. This way, us adults and with boyfriends and
girlfriends,” Pansy pointed at herself and at Daphne, who had Padma next to her, “can enjoy
some privacy.”
“And where are we supposed to go?” Susan asked.
“Well, I’m glad you asked. Since there are only three of us in Slytherin, four girls in
Gryffindor and four girls in Ravenclaw, the two of you can be with us in Slytherin or you can
split and join whoever you want,” Pansy explained, very democratic of her.
“I think we should vote on the idea,” Blaise called, he looked very interested.
“We should vote on it,” Hannah Abbott said, “we are the ones losing our double room.”
Susan shrugged, “I think it’s fair—” Oh, how Hermione appreciated Hufflepuffs and their
love for fairness, “I don’t mind moving. I think it’s fun, we can make a schedule with days
and times, book for birthdays or anniversaries.”
“I say it’s a great idea,” Draco said, coming up behind Hermione and wrapping his arms
around her, “One of the best Pansy has ever had. Truly Pans, your creativity when it’s dick
oriented is marvellous. Keep on the good work.”
They laughed and just like that, things had been decided.
And because they were all over the age and from the four houses, they didn’t have any
portrait to tell on them as they all dragged beds around to rearrange the two Hufflepuff girls.
She might have lost her private bedroom and the privacy of the head tower, but Hermione
was so excited about the new year.
Chapter End Notes

It is done. I truly had no idea where this would take me when in a lockdown hotel room
in Budapest I decided to post the first chapter of this story. This story has grown and
moved with me, with parts of it being written in Hungary, others in Lithuania and the
final stretch being written in Brazil. It was a journey, a long one and I thank every single
one of you who has followed, commented and supported this story here or on Twitter. I
never thought this would get more than a handful of views, much less almost 400k. So
once more thank you!
Works inspired by this one
Please drop by the Archive and comment to let the creator know if you enjoyed their work!

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The Missing Sister

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/33564922.

December 22nd, Cokeworth. 1978

“—and almost got the boys expelled!”

“I told you he’d be here.”

“How?” Mary asked incredulously.

“Okay. Thanks for coming with me.”

He hadn’t expected her to be here at all.

“Hello.” She said.

“Lily.” He said, his voice strangled.

“It’s been a while.”

“Are you going to tell on me?”

“No. He wouldn’t want me to come.”

“I’m glad you came.”

“You know there’s no way I can go.”

“We’d spent hours talking to her,” Sev remembered.

“I don’t think she’d like to hear about this year.”

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The garden is haunted by us

July 23th, Hogwarts. 1991

“You are here early Severus.” The Transfiguration teacher said.

“Are you going to deliver the letter?”

August 24th, Leicester Square Station. 1991

“Hello, Professor McGonagall.” A man behind the bar greeted.

“Another muggle-born?” The bald man asks as they near him.

“I'm Hermione Granger,” She said and he nodded.

“Useful, isn't it?”

“Hello, I came to pick up my robes.” She said politely.

September 1st, King Cross Station. 1991

“I’m Harry.” He said, grimacing. Oh. Was he that Harry?

“Oh.” He said and opened a smile, “new to magic too?”

“You said his name.”

“It’s just a name.” She said and Harry nodded.

The thought that just burns into me

“Oh, you may not think I’m pretty,

“You can keep your bowlers black,

“You might belong in Gryffindor,

“Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

“HUFFLEPUFF!” Shouted the hat again, to Pomona’s extreme delight.

Chapter End Notes

I already have 24 chapters ready so updates will be weekly, every Friday.

Thank you for the comments on the first chapter!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

As you end what you've begun

September 1st, Great Hall. 1991

“Nice to meet you.” Hermione said.

So that’s what belonging somewhere felt like.

“Are you lost?” He asked her.

“Shh,” Daphne said, “it’s Theo’s turn now.”

“Good.” Penelope said. “I’ll leave the rest to you, Gemma.”

“You did.” She said.

“He’s pathetic.” Pansy scoffed and went to her new bed.

“What?” Ronald asked, curiosity eating him.

“Let’s go then, we don’t want to be seen with her sort.”

She scoffed. “My sort?”

“Yeah,” he replied, looking her down from head to toe.

Blaise smirked, “Well, we are going to see that today.”

“They don’t.” She said grinning, her own Slytherin smirk.

“I don’t know, sir.”