Author Note: In answer to who was future Hermione from last time... it was Hermione-on-the-right and the one who was silenced by McGonagall. She had the more extreme reactions and was the one leading the scenario.

Many thanks to Tyrannic_Puppy for providing comments and beta work on this chapter.

Disclaimer: Does everyone go to Dumbledore to answers over specialists who would actually know more? If so, I don't own the Harry Potter franchise; it belongs to J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Press, Warner Bros., and whoever else she sold the rights to.

6th of July, 1995, Grimmauld Place, Islington, London

Being apparated by Mia had been unpleasant, but Hermione had just learnt that she was remarkably good at side-along apparition. At least compared to Emmaline. So much better, in fact, that she was once again vomiting just as she had the first time she had experienced it. Emmaline Vance, she decided, was not particularly skilled at apparition. The woman hadn't even let her say goodbye to Harry, popping away as soon as he stirred from his impromptu nap.

Mia had said they would probably do something like that, try and steal them away from Harry without him noticing, as if to imply they were abandoning him. She wasn't sure Professor McGonagall would do that, but... apparently she would if she was told to. Hearing her tell them that Dumbledore had said Harry needed to be left with his family to heal, and didn't need his friends as distractions, cut into her respect for her stern head of house, badly.

Professor Moody had seemed disapproving as well, and he would know better, right? As an experienced Auror he must have dealt with a lot of people going through grief or blaming themselves for something they couldn't prevent. 'Didn't make him speak up, however.' She thought as she finished voiding her stomach.

As she stood back up she couldn't help clutching her arms around herself and sniffling as she shivered. Without Harry's comforting presence the Elixir of Sorrows she had taken was drawing her back into a false depression. They had needed it, neither could have faked the grief of losing their parents properly without it, and unlike stronger draughts it induced a more natural sorrow. Mia had said it was one of their ancestor Hector Dagworth-Granger's potions, one he had meant to be used to help actors fill their roles more realistically - but it was far easier to make use of faster acting charms. As a result it had been relegated to the vaults and never popularised enough to enter common texts.

Professor Moody's magical eye would have spotted such charms, so they had resorted to the potion. Which, as she leaned onto the iron fence of number 11 and cried quietly, she lamented would last another several hours. And they would need to take more over the next few weeks, just to sell it properly.

Frankly, she was wondering if it was worth it. She was trembling, crying, sniffling and reliving so many things in her life that had her upset. But seeing Harry, how he rallied despite his hesitance and uncertainty and tried to comfort them and help them. 'It was worth it.` She decided as slipped to the ground, clutching at her knees sobbing, 'Is worth it. Harry is worth it.'

She heard the tell-tale crack of more people appearing but didn't feel it was worth the effort to look up and see what was happening. Instead she was going over the details of what had really happened during the night. She hadn't been there when her house was attacked, that had been Mia's role. But she had been present and stunned Goyle and Yaxley after Mia ripped them away via Apparition, waiting in the Death Eater safe house. 'Why did they even have a safe house in Little Whinging?' She wondered, 'Did they know where Harry lived all along?' The thought of Death Eaters being so close to Harry for years only made her feel worse, if that was even possible.

The day was one string of terrible things after another, she had seen that vision of Neville - Traitor. Violator. - then Mia had made her watch Yaxley die. He was the one who had killed mum in the original time-line, or so Mia said. She had wanted to argue that he should go to trial and face justice, even if he had to be Obliviated, at first. But something about seeing him wearing Auror red robes with him even having the badge still attached underneath the black robes of a Death Eater... it turned her stomach. He was one of those supposed to protect people, and he had broken into her house and attacked her fake mum and dad. Killed them while believing they were real people.

Watching him die had sickened her, twisted nastily in her gut, but him dying... it had. But not as much as it should have, nowhere near as much. She was upset by that. Frustratingly she was also upset that the ground was cold, that she was sitting near her own vomit, that she had been taken from Harry, that she was stuck wearing slippers and her pyjamas on a strangely cold July morning, that she was sitting there waiting for something to happen. It was probably the potion, but just about everything was making her feel upset.

Except that Harry had noticed she was a girl, she still felt sad thinking about how long it had taken him, but he had. He hadn't been particularly subtle about it.

She felt an arm grab her and pull her upright, "Up, girly." Professor Moody then thrust a scrap piece of parchment in front of her face, "Read it, memorise it. Quickly girl." She absently read the parchment through tear-filled eyes, The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London. She looked about, noting she had been leaning on the fence of number eleven, that her bile had been vanished while she was sobbing, that the next houses in either direction were not number twelve.

Which was wrong. There was number ten number thirteen, but no number twelve. She looked where number twelve was supposed to be, she knew it was hidden somehow - Mia hadn't been able to tell her where the safe house was, or anything about it. She had always referred to it as 'Headquarters'. Which now clearly meant the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix.

As she concentrated on that while glaring at the spot where number twelve should be it popped into existence, one moment not there, the next it was. She jumped back startled, bumping into the ex-Auror who still had a hold on her arm.

"Hah! She didn't even need to be told, got it on her own. You're good, girly." He said smugly.

"Good? With how they attacked Tonks I'm wondering what they're teaching them at Hogwarts these days." Emmaline voiced her own disapproving opinion, "Brawling like common muggles, you've let standards slip Minerva."

And now Hermione felt insulted. And upset. Seeing Mia punch Tonks had felt good, she didn't have the right to pull her away from Harry, so she wouldn't feel guilty about that. Maybe she felt upset for her, it was hard to tell. 'Stupid potion.' She sniffled to herself.

"Emmaline, she was, and is, understandably distraught. Reacting to being assaulted-" Professor McGonagall replied, only to get cut off.

"Assaulted! She's the one who assaulted an Auror!" Emmaline's bravery would have impressed Hermione if she hadn't already decided she disliked the woman.

"An appropriate response to an unknown attacker, Emmaline. She acted to protect the boy." Professor Moody had cut across both of them, and neither seemed to want to argue with him on the subject. He walked up and tapped his wand on the door, opening it, "Girls, head on inside. Keep quiet as you go in, the portraits are a nasty bunch if you wake them."

"I will be heading home then, since I am not wanted here." Emmaline huffed, then vanished with a crack.

Professor Moody just huffed at her departure and muttered something under his breath about Emmaline not be suitable for taking care of kids.

Mia clutched at Hermione's arm as they stepped inside, holding her tightly - she may not have vomited, but she seemed to be even worse off than Hermione was. She was trembling and having trouble staying upright.

"You okay?" Hermione croaked, wincing at how sore her throat was from all the crying.

Mia leaned closer and whispered in her ear, "He's... he's safe. Harry's safe." then nearly fell limp in her arms, which made Hermione stagger into the wall with a thump.

"Watch it!" Professor Moody hissed, then gestured for them to follow him. Hermione really just wanted to find a bed to crawl into so she could sleep, crying was exhausting. She barely registered the dark and dreary state of the corridor as she half-carried Mia, but did notice the presence of Molly Weasley and Sirius Black in the kitchen she was lead to. Partly because Mia started crushing her arm at the sight of the woman.

"Oh, you poor dear! How could this have happened? Dumbledore'll have everything resolved and your little issue fixed up soon enough, don't you worry." Molly cried as she rushed over to give them both a big hug. Hermione felt Mia tense at her side and pushed her off as gently as she could, taking the hug alone. She might not believe Mrs Weasley would ever hurt her, but that didn't change the fact that Mia was terrified of the woman.

"I don't know if anything is really wrong, Mrs Weasley." Hermione protested weakly. She didn't much like Molly's hugs, she always seemed to be trying to smother whoever she was holding.

"Don't you worry dear. It'll all get sorted," She said, as she let go to look Hermione over, "Dumbledore's already looking into arranging your custody. Can't let you get lost in the Muggle system, can we?" She frowned, "What are you wearing?"

Hermione flushed with embarrassment, her light summer pyjamas might be acceptable nightwear, but she had been parading about in them. Even in front of Harry. "My pyjamas, Mrs Weasley."

"Why! I'll sort you out some real clothes, don't you worry." She then looked over Mia, who was leaning on the wall and hyperventilating, Hermione wasn't quite sure what exactly the expression Molly was wearing meant, but it wasn't a happy one. "Now, why don't you tell me everything, and we can get to fixing this accident you've caused yourselves?" Molly said, but Hermione ignored her to look the others tiredly.

Professor McGonagall was examining Mia and casting a few spells, a mild cheering charm and a few medical diagnostic spells she recognised. Professor Moody looked on at the scene, seeming a little bored. Sirius it seemed was uncertain as to what he should do, glancing between the two of them, his brow furrowed under his shaggy fringe and his lips held together tightly.

"I think it would be best if we let them rest before any further questions, don't you Alastor?" Professor McGonagall said, frowning in concern.

"Aye. Got enough out of them back with the boy, some sleep before they get poked and prodded will do them some good." Professor Moody replied, "Not much point asking anymore until someone who knows more can check them over either, so we'll be waiting on Albus."

Molly frowned at her questioning being denied, but gave a curt nod.

"Sirius, you have one of the family bedrooms cleared for guests, correct?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"Right. We cleared the master bedroom up first, but I've got my old one back now, so they can have it. The rest are filled with so many old trinkets its been slow going getting them liveable, whoever visits will have to rough it so the girls can have some space." He said to McGonagall, before turning to meet Hermione's eyes, "I hoped our next meeting would be better Hermione, er, but for what it's worth, you're... both, welcome in my..." He looked about grimly, "house, for as long as you need a place to stay." His voice turned bitter during his offer, and Hermione remembered Mia telling her Headquarters was like a prison to Sirius.

"Thank you. Can someone... show us our room then?" she answered back, unable to keep the weariness from her voice.

"I'm sorry, Misses... Hermione, but I still have work back at the castle and need to inform Albus." Professor McGonagall apologised and gave them a sad look before striding over to the fireplace and using the Floo to vanish in a puff of ash.

"Right. Let's get you, ah, two to bed." Sirius said, getting up and cutting Molly off as she seemed about to make her own offer. As they climbed the stairs Sirius spoke up again, "For what it's worth, I told them you would need a guard too. You're very publicly tied to Harry, if it wasn't this..." He grimaced, "I hate to say it, but you may have gotten off lucky." With those words he opened a door and waved them inside, "Bathroom's the door with the blue sign, don't open any of the others. Get some rest."

After he was gone Mia took a seat on the lone bed in the room, "I... Thank you, I didn't- I couldn't- if she had..." she tried to speak, but couldn't get anything out and started gasping for air and alternating between sobbing uncontrollably and stopping breathing all together

After a few moments' hesitation Hermione sat down next to her, gently lowered Mia so that she was lying on the bed, and then held her tightly as they both cried out the remainder of the Elixir of Sorrows and the stress from the night's events. She had to remind Mia to keep breathing several times when she stopped and didn't start again on her own, but was too tired to offer any real comfort besides her presence.

-oOoOo-

Hermione awoke to Mia quivering in her arms, shaking and gasping for air, whimpering as if being tortured. She squeezed the other girl tighter, "Mia? Mia, what's wrong?" she asked, but Mia, while she quieted down, did not stop shaking.

Unsure what to do Hermione twisted them around so she could see Mia's face, all scrunched up and eyes closed, "Mia... Hermione. Hermione Jane Granger." She said, imitating her mother as best she could, "Look at me Hermione. Open your eyes and look at me." She pushed aside the awkwardness of saying her own name to the other girl, realising that even if she had chosen a nickname, she would respond best to her own name when she was like this.

Mia had reacted to her name, twitching as if to respond before taking a gasping breath and retreating back into herself. "Hermione Jane Granger. Look at me. Now."

Brown eyes snapped open, staring into their perfect mirror. As they stared at each other Mia's breathing began to slow down, going from short, frantic gasps of air to deep lungful's that she expelled slowly. It was ten minutes before her breathing no longer had the feeling of forced control and the shaking had stopped completely. Mia's eyes never left Hermione's face during that time, occasionally drifting across it for a few moments before snapping back to match her gaze.

It was unnerving for Hermione to be stared at for so long, but the one time she had shifted away Mia had whimpered piteously, her breath hitching. So, she had stayed, lightly stroking one of her hands across the time-lost girl's back, running her other hand through Mia's hair, and letting Mia's hands grip so tightly to her own pyjama top it seemed like it might tear. She didn't know what she was doing, just trying to imitate what she could remember of what her mum had done to calm her down as a child.

'I wasn't drawn into a nightmare this time. Why?' She thought, understandably both curious and concerned by the inconsistency. Was there something special about the nightmare from the previous night, or something different about how they slept? She went over what little information she had, dissected the nightmare itself for clues. She was able to gain some distance on it now, although thinking of Neville - Betrayal. Violation. - still sent a shiver of unease and disgust down her spine.

"Whatever it was, it came from Mia..." She whispered idly, she noticed the other girl tense briefly at the name so she returned her attention to comforting her.

Hermione didn't know how long she spent comforting Mia in the end, but her arms were starting to get sore by the time Mia finally said something.

"Hermione?" Mia's voice was remarkably controlled considering what she had just gone through, "I want to thank you. I didn't expect to... I wasn't expecting to react this badly to Harry or- or... her." As she was speaking Mia gently let go of Hermione's clothes and Hermione took that as permission enough to stop stroking her head and back. "You think we still have any cat in us?" Mia asked suddenly, "Because that felt amazing, far more relaxing than anything I've ever experienced before."

Hermione was startled to recall that terrible part of second year, holed up in the hospital wing not knowing if she would fully return normal or not. "Madam Pomfrey said-"

"That there would be no lingering side effects, and that any symptoms we think might be that are just psychological changes made by temporarily enforced behaviour shifting."

"... Yes." Hermione was frowning since she didn't like being interrupted, but Mia had said exactly what she was going to have said, word for word. She found that didn't make her feel much better as she considered it, "Can we not turn into the new Weasley twins, please?" She did not want to start finishing each other's sentences, it would be far too weird. It was strange enough having a mirror image of herself wandering around.

"Ah. Sorry." Mia said, "We should avoid that, the world doesn't need more pranksters." She paused, giving Hermione a curious look, "Although, there is cause for several of them this year. Umbridge, the new defence professor, is the worst yet."

"Surely they can find someone competent for once, or at least better than a... an impostor. Or possessed like Quirrel was. It's our O.W.L year!" She needed a proper professor again! Even with Riddle back and everything else, she had to do well on her O.W.L exams!

Mia looked at Hermione accusingly, as if to remind her of their track record with teachers. 'Right. Maybe not.' Hermione thought.

"No. She..." Mia paused chewing on her lip briefly before continuing, "She doesn't teach, just assigns a book. A useless book at that, we will need to have so we don't get in trouble in class, but there's no point touching it otherwise. I am going to buy three copies of the recommended O.W.L textbooks from Professor Lupin's year, one set for each of us and another for Harry."

"That's something at least." Hermione bit her own lip as she mulled over the idea of getting books for Harry, "Will he actually read them? I'm not sure that books are the best gift for Harry."

"Not a gift, the galleons will be coming out of his own vaults; his trust has been locked down so the books and the rest of his school supplies are going to arrive by owl from Gringotts, addressed from the Regent of House Potter. We're 'her' wards, remember?" Mia continued as a smile grew on her face, "And he's excellent at defence, tutored twenty people into EE's and O's last time around. It's not a thoughtless thing to get him, at all."

Hermione's mouth hung open in surprise for a few moments before she mustered a response, "He tutored?" She knew Harry was good at what he applied himself too, but the idea of him tutoring seemed almost outlandish. Harry hated being the centre of attention, but Hermione found herself smiling slightly at the idea of him tutoring her, and others, in his best subject.

"He did!" Mia said excitedly, "I remember learning to cast the Patronus - it's hard, as its based on emotions rather than willpower and focus, but... I think we can do it easier this time around. We didn't have much to be happy about when we were learning it."

"We cast the Patronus at... fifteen?" Hermione was staring at Mia, she could cast upper years spells fairly easily but the Patronus was well known for being upper N.E.W.T or even beyond N.E.W.T level. "I know Harry managed it but, me, us?"

"We're not magically weak you know," Mia said pointedly, meeting Hermione's gaze, "In fact, other than Harry I think only Neville matches us for power. We, or rather you - I had training for it - just don't have the initiative or reflexes that makes someone excel at DADA."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, frowning at being told she lacked initiative.

"We like to plan things, work it out in advance - when on the spot we try to make things elaborate, complicated. Complicated gets you hurt in a fight, the simpler something is, the harder it is to make mistakes. We are better at one thing though." She fidgeted slightly, "Became better, I mean."

"Oh?" Hermione couldn't find anything wrong with what Mia had said, but decided she would look up some duelling manuals to see if they agreed before accepting her word.

"Chain casting. Planning out a series of spells with wand movements that lead into one another, or you can cast without movements at all. Harry never managed to do it beyond a few simple chains, I- no, I mean she, future me- you. Us." Mia frowned at her slip, seemingly unaware of just how often it happened when they spoke, "She could come up with chains on the fly, altering them to take advantage of her opponents' reactions. Which is a master-grade dueller trick, although she wasn't there on many of the other requirements."

'Spell chaining. That's clever. Very clever. What would... Langlock, Jelly-Legs then Shield work? Seems basic but,' She thought then asked, "Would Langl-"

"Langlock, Bombarda, Stupefy, Incarceous?" Mia smiled, "That's one of the first chains I got taught from the memories."

'It's not what I was thinking of, but... I understand it now." Hermione nodded her head, going over the motions in her head to memorise the chain. As Mia started got up and pulled out the expanded bag she had bought and marked as being a Dagworth-Granger heirloom, another lie, but one that kept their possessions with them. She had to agree with Mia, if she had a bag that was bigger on the inside she would put everything in it. For a few weeks at least, even if it was inconvenient. The novelty would wear off eventually, but it was a good enough reason to have all of her school uniforms, textbooks and equipment, even if they would need a second set.

"How are you feeling, Mia?" She asked as she got up to help Mia sort their possessions, she couldn't help but wonder if Mia was really okay. She had managed the conversation fine, but she had just had a panic attack, or at least something close to it. 'Should have gotten a book on psychology and trauma.' She cringed inwardly as she realised how she hadn't thought ahead properly to deal with the obvious issues Mia had, instead focusing on her own problems with the situation she had found herself in.

"... I seem to be doing okay. Yeah, I'm fine. Um, not Harry 'fine', actually fine." Mia looked at Hermione and saw the disbelieving look on her face, so she took a deep breath and kept going. "I'm... surprised at how well it went, now that I'm calmer. Harry being out and about was likely from how he had described this summer, but to run into him so quickly..." A beaming smile spread across Mia's face, "I... seeing him alive. It didn't feel real at first, but I am..." Tears started welling up in her eyes, but her smile didn't falter. "so happy I did." She took a few steady breaths and wiped her eyes, "You did great, by the way. If Moody was mostly convinced - which I think he was by the end of it - then everyone else will be convinced too. We just need to keep it up."

Hermione wasn't entirely convinced that Mia was fine, but as she didn't seem to be on the verge of another breakdown Hermione decided it was better to leave it alone. She wasn't too comfortable with talking about it, since the panic attack - if that is what it was - was triggered by Molly. Mia had to be wrong about her, Ron and the rest. They just weren't capable of being so evil.

"Will we need to take the potion again?" Hermione said as she grimaced, not looking forward to drinking the foul concoction again.

"Probably, we are still supposed to be grieving. We have another three full doses, but we can stretch that out. Make it more controllable."

'Didn't we only brew four doses? I know I took a full one - did Mia not need one? Oh. She... that was all real.' Hermione grew more concerned about her companion's mental state with that realisation, feeling that being able to conjure up and fake grief like that was not something that indicated a healthy mind. Even if she must have seen the fake-parents die and had... had killed the Death Eater. Hermione shivered as she remembered watching the man die, she wouldn't mourn him but that didn't mean she had enjoyed it.

After they finished putting on something a little more appropriate than their pyjamas, carefully avoiding looking at each other as they did so, Mia broke the silence that had descended upon them. "The next thing we need to do is convince Kreacher to help us. Hopefully he won't be too," She paused and huffed, "ornery. He's not a pleasant elf at the best of times and right now he will be at his worst."

"With how everyone treats the elves, it's no wonder." Hermione managed to refrain from running into a full-blown S.P.E.W rant only because she knew Mia shared her opinions on house elves. "We need to do something for him, and the rest of them.

Mia smiled knowingly at Hermione, "We do, but better treatment wouldn't make him nicer. He's old and angry for a reason, even if he takes it out on the wrong people most of the time. He started being helpful and respectful, well a little less disrespectful really, after we helped him. But even after that he still believed in the supremacy of the Blacks and was a crotchety old man of an elf."

"You shouldn't insult him." Hermione snapped.

"He is! Mr Filch is too, I said it so you know what to expect, not to insult him." Mia huffed, "Elves deserve respect and kindness, but that doesn't mean we can't acknowledge their flaws. Dobby, for example, is honestly more than a little insane." Hermione glared at her about to retort, but Mia snapped out, "He nearly got Harry killed, twice! Trying to 'save' him! He's not rational. At all."

Hermione kept glaring and spat out, "It's still not nice to say." But knew Mia was right, Dobby wasn't stable, his obsession with Harry was questionable enough on its own. "Why doesn't Harry care more about the elves? He's friends with Dobby and... and you said he was treated like one at home. Shouldn't he be sympathetic?" She grumbled.

"He should. I think he didn't want to disagree with... with Him over it." Mia practically spat out as she avoided saying Ron's name, "And if he confronted the house elves' situation he would have to accept how wrong his own was, and he hates the idea of not fitting in. Of being treated differently." She sighed, "There isn't much we can do now anyway,"

"What? We can-"

"We can't free them. Not unless we own them. The headmaster is the 'owner' of all the castle's elves, save the one personal elf for each teacher. Knitting hats doesn't help, and just scared them away from Gryffindor tower - Dobby started doing everything on his own."

"Dobby's free."

"He's not - he bonded with Harry. Winky is free at the moment, but dying from lack of a bond. The bond isn't natural, it's artificial and horribly cruel, but we can't do anything about it until we can do real research. I don't think we will be able to get close to resolving it for years, maybe not even getting started until after school."

"Then what can we do? You said we can't do much now." Hermione asked morosely.

"There's a contract, I only found a few references to it, one of which is the library here, that was made more than a thousand years ago. Before Hogwarts. If we find the full contract we should be able to figure out how to free the elves. But that's not going to be fast, and we have bigger problems than house-elf rights right now." Mia shook her head and returned to their main topic, "Anyway, Kreacher. We will need to get him alone and talk to him, shouldn't be too hard just mention Regulus' last order and he will pay attention. Probably insult us horribly, but he will pay attention."

Hermione's stomach grumbled loudly, causing her to blush and Mia to smirk, "Should we get lunch?" Hermione asked, a little embarrassed.

Mia didn't respond for several seconds, her mouth working but no sound coming out. Eventually she said, "Yes. I'm... don't forget to check the food. She shouldn't have anything ready yet, but, just... be careful." She finished quietly, hunched in on herself and barely looking at Hermione.

Hermione didn't think it was necessary, not really. But after the vision she saw of Neville - Betrayal - she could understand Mia's paranoia, at least a little. It was still frustrating to deal with, but she wouldn't ignore it outright, so she nodded.

-oOoOo-

Sirius didn't entirely know what he was doing sitting in the hall of his house reading a book, but he did know why. Hermione Granger had spoken to Harry, was someone who knew him well and recently seen him in person. If anyone knew how his godson was doing it was the girl who helped rescue him from dementors just over a year ago. That there were two of them now, well, he could only feel his godson was one lucky boy. His female best friend just became two, and what little interaction he'd had with her reminded him a fair bit of Lily. Not by appearance, but he hadn't seen her at her best and Harry had gone on about how amazing she looked at the ball.

And Molly had harped on enough about the loose morals of the girl for kissing Harry at the station, even if it was on the cheek, for him to know the girl liked his godson. He huffed, 'There is something wrong with that woman, I hate this place but it is my house and she keeps acting like she owns it.' He had also noted that Molly hadn't shown much sadness over Hermione's dead parents. He grimaced at that thought, 'I might not have liked my own parents, but I can sympathise with someone losing their own. Muggles or not.'

He was brought back to attention as the door to the master bedroom opened, and the two identical girls stepped out. "You're up!" He near shouted as he jumped upright, unaware of his volume, "Good. Molly left for the burrow not long after you arrived, after supplies I think. I made some food and put it in stasis for you, if you want it." If he had been paying attention properly he would have noticed one of them, the more nervous seeming one, perk up when he said he had made food and that Molly was gone. But he didn't.

"Oh, thank you." The less nervous one said, "I, I mean we, were getting a little hungry." She didn't speak terribly loudly, bringing Sirius' attention to how loud he had been himself, and something else he had wanted to say.

He readied himself for his prepared apology, one he had been preparing for an hour to make up for his earlier insensitivity. But as he did so he couldn't help but take notice of the differences, between the two of them. One was nervous and felt to his animagus like she was swimming in regret, grief and self-loathing, the other seemed tired and like she was feeling a little regret, but mostly curiosity. They didn't stand differently, or at least not noticeably so, but they smelled different, one more magically active than the other.

He could put all this down to one of them having killed the Auror, Yaxley, and the other not, but it seemed a little extreme for that. Not that it mattered, he needed to apologise.

"I should apologise," He said carefully, "I said what I believe to be true, but I wasn't very sensitive about it. I may not have known your parents, but they are... must have been wonderful people. I cannot thank them enough for raising a girl who would stand up for my godson, or risk themselves to save me like you have."

They both nodded acceptance of his apology, making him grin widely. "I did get you something, well. I mean..." He had intended it to be a loan, but it's not like he was particularly attached to the book, so he changed his mind. "Yes. It's a gift, you can keep it." He handed over the book, which the nervous one accepted with curiosity, "It's one of the, ah, safer books from the library. You both are bookwo- book lovers right?" He chuckled, trying to brush off his near insult, "I would give you free reign in there, but there are quite a few curses left. And since I'm the only Black by Blood around no one else can go in there to deal with them safely."

He knew that Hermione was the best student in Harry's year, much like Remus had been. So, he had gotten her a book he thought Moony would've liked, an old, probably restricted book, on magical traditions and how they came to be. Most purebloods these days didn't like to hear how they incorporated Muggle traditions into their society a thousand years ago, and that little book held all the nasty details of such things. Perfect for a Muggleborn bookworm, Sirius felt.

"Arthur's mother was Cedrella Black, so any of the Weasley's should count, shouldn't they?" the book-holding one piped up. He was a little surprised she knew that, most Muggleborn never took an interest in pureblood genealogy.

"She was disinherited, formally. I wasn't it seems, as much as my mother might have wished I was." He replied, a bit of amusement at his mother's failure creeping into his voice.

"Oh."

An awkward silence descended as they all stood there. Sirius, looking them both over again, finally realised that they're wearing their school uniforms - not the pyjamas they were in earlier that morning. Despite being curious, he was hesitant to ask how they had managed to get any amount of their things away during the attack, not wanting to dredge up any more thoughts about what had happened. It was bad enough it had happened at all without anyone jumping down their throats questioning them, and Sirius knew that someone would. Be it Snivellus or Moody, someone was going to push the girls into crying when the Order met to question them.

He didn't know when it would happen, Dumbledore was strangely absent and unconcerned that one of his students had been attacked and kidnapped. Sirius was doing his best not to think badly of the old man, but he was consistently failing to be helpful. He could understand not being able to get him a trial now, with the Ministry slandering their former chief warlock, but a year ago that hadn't been an issue. And then there were the stories out of Hogwarts... hopefully he could get some out of the girls, a first hand accounting of Harry's adventures.

"Can you..." He sighed deeply, "Look, I know that Harry is being watched and guarded. He needs to be, especially with..." He waved his hand at the two of them absently, a little uncomfortable with how they both flinched, "But can you tell me how he is? The others, they don't know him well."

"He's... I don't think he's happy. Dumbledore is ignoring him. He saw Voldemort torturing someone and sent a letter, but he was just told to stay at home." The book-less Hermione said.

"With his relatives." The other spat, "When McGonagall took us away she gave me a chance to say goodbye and... I don't think I've seen him so angry before. He-he's watched someone die..." She trailed off.

Sirius leaned against the wall, taking a moment to think. They two seemed more like they were understating things, trying to keep Harry's privacy than exaggerating, and that concerned him. "And he's been left there. Alone." He looked up at the ceiling, "Dumbledore said we shouldn't contact Harry, let him-"

"No!" One of them shouted, although Sirius couldn't tell which.

"No. That is a terrible idea." The Hermione with a book said, "If he thinks we abandoned him he'll hate us. R-Ron" Sirius was surprised by her stutter over her other friend's name and filed the reaction away in his head, "already did that once in the last year. He was miserable through all of it. He might forgive us, but it... we can't do it. I can't do it." She was glaring at him fiercely, daring him to try and stop her contacting Harry.

"Alright. I understand." Sirius said with a nod.

He didn't want to avoid contacting Harry either, he had been away from his godson for long enough as it was. First he had been trapped in prison for so many years, then on the run. Now he was locked away in a new prison, just one he owned personally. 'What we need is a method that can't be detected or warded against...' He mused, 'Didn't we? Remus! The mirrors! Mine will be somewhere here, I never did manage to get it away, and Remus must have his somewhere... Or James', that would be in the Potter vault. Bloody rat broke his, so at least he can't spy on us through it.'

"I know exactly the thing. I will need to talk to Remus, but I'll get a way to talk to Harry without getting intercepted." He grinned at the girls, receiving tentative smiles in return. It wasn't as enthusiastic a reaction as he was hoping for, but it was better than nothing.

"Um. Sirius?" The Hermione with a book said after a moment, "Would it be alright to eat in our room?"

"Of course. Just clean up after yourselves - ah. You can use magic, just don't let Molly see you. Ministry can't detect you in here, but she would blow her top if she found out." He scowled, "You'll want magic if you get roped into cleaning. The woman's determined to do it without, but half the things in here are cursed, and the other half are poisoned, you kids shouldn't be touching them."

He waited until they told him they understood before leading them down to the kitchen to pick up plates of food, he had to undo the stasis charms himself, a little surprised that they hadn't dealt with such charms before, but it didn't really matter. He watched as the two ascended back up the stairs whispering to each other, only pausing briefly when Kreacher made an appearance to disparage their bloodline. He had almost interfered, but they said something to the elf that had him pop away in a hurry.

He had a sneaking suspicion something was up with the two of them, their story was extraordinarily strange, but he could keep quiet. They had gone to Harry first, trusted him, and Harry trusted them. That was enough for Sirius - if they were on his godson's side he would be on theirs.