Disclaimer – I do not own any of the magical characters JK rowling created. Just borrowing for smutty, fantasy ideas.

I couldn't allow Sirius and Remus to remain gone so they're back and mentioned… obviously

Hermione stared at the little tattered notebook in front of her. "What will this do to cheer me up" she huffed to herself. Flicking through the empty pages she chucked it away from her on the desk, blew out the candle lighting the bedroom in Grimmauld place and went to bed.

What a day she'd had. Enough to send her to sleep just after her mind took a trip over the events.

*** 12 hours earlier ***

Pacing up and down the little shop aisles Hermione scanned the book titles, engrossed in the names and promises they silently gave. It was her escape: a good book. What more could someone need?

It had been 3 months since the end of the war and although her and many of her close friends had made it out physically unharmed, it was the mental hurt which was causing her much pain. Harry was keeping busy with Ginny, the pair happier than ever spending the majority of their time at the Weasleys where Harry was enjoying the bustle of family life. Occasionally he would saunter in through the doors of Grimmauld place for a day or two before making his excuses back to his loved-up setting. Ron, well Ron was being Ron. His and Hermione's romance had been short lived. They both agreed after the war that their kisses were heat of the moment, death defying moments, that although were special and so needed at the time, was nothing substantial when the life threatening contexts were taken away. He was busy, working for the Ministry now along with Harry. The pair of them threw themselves into making the Ministry of Magic a safe and inviting place for young wizards: to rid the previous old fashioned rule.

Hermione on the other hand, the least expected to be so miserable, was just that…. Miserable. She couldn't return to her parents, although lifting the curse she had placed on them had helped: confiding in them about her thoughts hadn't. They didn't understand what she'd been through and above everything were annoyed she'd done so alone. She had moved herself into Grimmauld place with Sirius there as some form of company and Ron and harry when they returned from their own ventures. Sirius himself was a loose cannon since his return from the veil and spent many nights entertaining ladies from the local. With Remus back at the school teaching defence against the dark arts Hermione had become the new carer for the rogue dog and although McGonagall had promised her a position at the school, like all the other adults she knew it came with a "whenever you're ready" tagline, which at the moment wasn't anytime soon. She felt lonely, and bitter a little as well. So much destruction had flashed through her young eyes, the years of battling demons at such a young age had left her feeling somewhat unfulfilled now. She had the grades far surpassing anyone else of her age and along with that the technical ability. But what use was she. Who was she helping now?

Scanning the bookshelves, she tried to find what she was looking for. A title that would stand out, grip her mind, something exhilarating, heroes, villains, disaster and silver linings. She wanted excitement.

It wasn't until she had paced down the same aisle for the 5th time scanning the shelves that she noticed the elderly cloaked figure sitting on the seat at the end. Coughing had caught hemiones attention and looking over she saw the figure bent forward wheezing slightly.

"Are you okay?" Hermione queried walking over, "would you like some water?" she asked politely.

"Thank you sweetheart but I'm fine," the older woman replied. Looking up from under her hood Hermione caught a glimpse of the war-torn face and had to stop herself from gasping. The woman's face was scarred and gaunt. Blind in one eye her pupil was pure white whilst the other bright blue with flecks of silver and green. Catching hemiones expression the old woman chuckled, "this old face," the woman laughed raising a hand from under the cloak and motioning to her face. "been in some battles."

Hermione blushed having been caught with a clear expression of shock, "I'm sorry," she said quickly, "it's just most people after the war got their injuries sorted, the ministry did its best to heal those affected so,"

"No point," the woman said regaining her composure and sitting less hunched over. "Just a face."

Hermione looked down at the floor. Once again embarrassed. Was she being rude? It was the woman's decision whether she wanted to remain maimed or not. At the same time though she was intrigued. Here was someone she had been looking for, someone who could understand the horrors they'd seen.

"Ask your question," the woman said catching Hermione of guard, "its visible you have something on your mind."

Hermione's eyes widened. Was it that obvious?

The woman motioned to the empty seat next to her in the quiet book store and heroine sat. "it's just, my friends don't really talk about it. 'no point looking back'" she mimicked in a deep voice. "and I don't think I'm ready for that closure on it yet. Not a question, just nice to say it aloud."

The old woman nodded understandingly. They sat quietly. Hermione processing the honesty she had spoken. the silence broken only when the woman asked, "so why are you here in a book store?"

Hermione shook her head, "I used to love books. Any books. But now there's nothing on these shelves that catches my eye."

The woman nodded understandingly before suddenly shifting of her seat and standing upright in front of Hermione. She was shorter than expected now. Only just coming up to Hermione's shoulders. Reaching into her cloaks' inner pockets the woman brought out a small brown leather covered book. "take this," she urged pushing it into Hermione's hand with a small smile on her scarred lips.

Hermione looked down at the book in her hands before opening the pages: blank. "What is it?"

"What you're looking for!" the woman replied with a slight laugh in her voice. "write to it and I guarantee you will find the company you seek."

"Why are you giving it to me then?" Hermione asked, knowing it wasn't safe to trust a strange blank book.

"I've had my luck with it. It brought me happiness," the woman replied before adding, "it also brought me sorrow." With that the woman turned on her heels and made for the door, the cloak billowing behind her.

"Wait, I don't understand!" Hermione called but the woman had already left. Staring down at the book she sighed, 'what use is this?'

*** 24 hours later***

Hermione woke, it was almost the middle of the day, she had slept so long, a common theme recently.

Stretching out she sat up in her bed, listening she could hear Sirius thumping around downstairs, either just getting up or just getting in. She chuckled to herself, at least he was enjoying himself.

What would another half hour do she thought as she brought he duvet up to her chin and rolled over? Her eyes looking out over her room she caught the small notebook lying, almost falling off the desk.

Miserable yes but she was still inquisitive enough to want to understand so getting up she padded over to the desk, grabbed the book and ran back to the bed with a quill. Casting a charm with her wand sitting beside the quills tip was suddenly ink soaked in her hand.

Hermione ran a hand over the old leather before opening the first page. Blank lined paper was in front of her. She breathed in a deep breath before writing the first word.

Hello

…. Nothing

The page remained empty and Hermione couldn't help but laugh aloud. Staring at the page her laughter turned to a slight cry as a tear escaped her eyes. What did she expect? Crazy old lady in a book shop giving out mysterious books! Was that her fate too?

Slamming the book shut she wiped her cheeks. Daft!

If it had not been so quiet in her room, Hermione might not have heard the faint scratching sound coming from the book within her hands. She had to hold her breath and listen carefully as she made out the sound. It was quill scratching like. Writing. Definitely writing!

Startled she opened the page back up to find another line filled on the page. Someone had replied!

Hello

Blimey. This works?

Hermione laughed. The reply seemed so familiar and in her head she silently applauded herself at getting a notebook with a demon that was at least as surprised as her.

Who are you? She quizzed. Waiting patiently for the reply. Her stomach, for the first time in months, did a flip of excitement.

No chance. I know better than to give my identification out to a talking book.

Hermione one again laughed at the reply. Very level headed. Where are you then?

You must be crazy, I won't give you my name, I'm sure not going to tell you where I'm currently staying! Who knows what sort of crazy man you might be!

Hermione scoffed. A man? Who said I was a man?

Ah, no one I was just testing. Secretly hoping I wasn't going to be speaking to a lonely old man but you never know. I didn't really know what I was getting myself into here.

Me neither.

How old are you then, and maybe a daft question but when are you?

What a strange question Hermione thought. But right enough, the lady had never stayed long enough for an explanation.

I'm eighteen. And its 1998.

Oh, cool so you're in the future! By about 20 years! Any spoilers?

No! I don't think that's right! If only she could warn this stranger about what was to come but hemione had dealt with time turners long enough to know the dangers of messing around with the past.

I didn't think so. How did you get your book?

An elderly lady in a bookstore gave me it. Hermione replied bluntly

So you're an 18 year old girl, you don't help me out with any spoilers and you accept weird time absorbing books from creepy old people. Anything else I should know before making a run for it?

Hermione grinned. She didn't know who this man was but she was already taking a shine to him. No I think that pretty much sums me up!What about you then, how old are you? How did you get a book?

I'm 17. Just studying for my finals just now. My head master gave me the book. I was going through some… personal struggles, and he said it'd help me find a friend.

Hemione smiled down at the page. Find a friend? That's sweet of your professor.

He is a great man. But so far all I've found is you.

Oi! Not funny Hermione wrote angrily. She was never one for taking getting teased well. She got it too much from being surrounded by boys all the time as it was.

Okay sorry for that one. Right I need to get to class. Got lots of catching up to do after a couple days unwell so maybe speak to you later? Friend?

Hermione sank bank on her pillows. What a strange 24 hours. Scribbling her last message, she felt a pang as she closed the notebook again. She was intrigued but this mysterious book and the boy replying. What a strange piece of magic, but it had kept her entertained for a small while. Hope you feel better! Speak soon…. Friend.

It was nice to have someone to speak to. As random as it felt. It felt good. Getting up from her bed she threw on her dressing gown before making her way down the stairs to see what destruction Siris had caused. For a change she was looking slightly forward to the day ahead. Or at least later that day.