A/n: Yeah, I know, I'm bad. I'm sorry. 2016 and 2017 have not been good years. I won't bore you with the details, but suffice to say, this is the first time I've actually been able to sit down and really write for something that isn't my original novel. (which is a whole other kettle of worms.) Through all of the upheaval in the last couple of years I've moved out on my own, so I've got a lot more time to work on things. I'm hoping that this whole updating thing becomes a regular occurrence. I've never been particularly good at keeping a schedule, but my sincerest hope is that it's not another two years before the next chapter. I really am sorry about that.

D/c: Anything recognizable from the Harry Potter universe is the property of Jo Rowling, Warner Bros Inc. and whoever else owns them. This plot, and anything not recognizable from the series proper, belongs to me.

Chapter Three: Amici Tempore (Friends in Time)

Hermione adjusted well to life with the two Marauders. Often, she found herself enjoying their childish antics in a way that she hadn't been able to when she was thirteen the first time around. It honestly shocked her to realize how much of her childhood and teenage years had been dedicated to Harry James Potter and his destiny. Here, now, she could be a kid. She was running, and laughing and playing and somehow, she still wasn't clear on, her new brother and his best friend had talked her into flying lessons, and by the end of the second week of July, she was actually and honestly proficient. She'd even come to enjoy it.

Between the playing and the flying, however, were her lessons with Dorea. Who was helping her to temper her skills in the most Slytherin manner. Things that Hermione had been doing nonverbally for years, she now had to stop and do the enchantment for. She needed to lay low, she understood. She couldn't make some great show of power. It would be a dead giveaway that something wasn't quite as she said it was.

Along with those lessons, were lessons in etiquette, pure-blood society, manners, comportment, and being a lady in general. Knitting, sewing, and music were all on the docket, and Hermione loathed every second of it. She knew it was necessary, of course, if she didn't want to give shame to her new family, but it was dry, and even when she was honestly interested in the lessons (as she was with the handicrafts and arts) Dorea was constantly correcting her into the most uncomfortable positions which were considered proper. It was like something out of an Austen novel, and it was killing her.

The third week of July broke, and several letters lay on the table Sunday morning as the five sat down to breakfast. Dorea went through them calmly. "Dumbledore's written, Hermione. It seems your aptitude tests are set for Tuesday. Are you ready for them?"

"As I'll ever be." Hermione said wryly.

"Excellent." Dorea nodded. "Lyall has written an answer to you boys, as well. Remus is unable to come to visit this week to meet your new sister, although he is greatly pleased for you, James. Unfortunately, he seems to have come down with a summer cold."

"Damn." James muttered under his breath.

"James Charlus Potter, I will scourgify that mouth if I hear it again." Dorea snapped, opening the last letter. She read silently before setting it down and dragging her husband out of the room.

"Well, that can't be good." Sirius said, frowning as he snatched up the letter. "Ah, yeah, not good."

"What's going on?" James asked.

"Pollux, Arcturus, and Callidora are calling a meeting of the House." Sirius said. "Regardless of affiliation, Status in the family, or condition, all members of the Three Branches living must attend at the Ancestral Home in Banchory. This will take place August 17th through August 19th." Sirius frowned. "Yikes."

"That's a bad thing?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah," Sirius said slowly, putting the letter back at Dorea's seat. "Some of the family isn't bad, The Third Branch was all females, so they married into other families. Callidora married a Longbottom, Cedrella a Weasley, and Charis a Crouch, but then you have people like my mum and my cousin Bellatrix who are absolutely barking. They think this Dark Lord has the right idea in cleansing all the muggleborns, which to anyone with an ounce of sense is absolutely mad, seeing as how the purebloods are so inbred. But they're calling everyone to the Castle Black for a full weekend, it looks like, so something big must be going on. They're even calling in the ones who've been disowned, like Dromeda and Cedrella. I wonder if Uncle Marius will be there."

"Unlikely." Dorea said, walking back in with Charlus. "Marius is a squib, and wouldn't be able to come through the wards. They want the spouses as well, which means Bellatrix and that Tonks in the same room, Merlin help us."

"A Pax charm would prevent any violence or undue harm." Hermione said offhandedly.

James and Sirius stared at her.

Hermione noticed and blinked. "What?"

"You need to get out of the library." James said in disgust.

Dorea smiled knowingly. "But she is right, and I'll write Pollux about it immediately. I've no idea why they'd be calling the House together at a time like this, and only a week before school term starts. It's unnerving. Which reminds me, Hermione, Charlus and I want to talk to you about a magical adoption. It would give you some protection in that setting."

Hermione sighed. "What would it entail."

"In this case we'd want to go with a full adoption." Charlus said. "I understand you have some pride in your muggle family, my dear, but it just puts you in danger; all the more around the Blacks. With a full adoption you'd be, on a genetic and magical level, our child, as well as your own parents. Any magical tests they run for your legitimacy would confirm you as our full blooded child."

Hermione frowned. "I understand why it's necessary, but can I think about it and do some research before I make a decision?"

Dorea and Charlus nodded. "You've reached the Age of Cognizance," Dorea said, "So the magic won't take unless you consent to it."

Hermione nodded as she finished her breakfast.

Hermione spent the rest of the morning with Dorea, locked in the ballroom, working out her frustrations.

"I'm surprised at the amount of magic I'm able to produce, to be honest." Hermione said, staring at the violently red floor. "The last time I was thirteen, I couldn't have done half so much."

"Well, the potion only alters you on a physiological and hormonal level." Dorea said, from her comfortable chair in the corner. "Your soul, and thus the core of your magic, is still nineteen. A very powerful nineteen, I'd say. You've spent quite some time exercising your magic."

"It came with chasing Harry around year after year." Hermione said wistfully. "By the time we'd reached our sixth year, we were always getting into some kind of trouble, and as the boys were absolutely useless at research it always came down to me to have the answers and the magic. Poor Harry was an above average wizard from the get go, once he got the hang of something, but …" Hermione stopped and turned to see Dorea listening intently. "Well, he never quite lived up to his potential."

"I wonder why that is." Dorea said, frowning. "James is a troublemaker, for sure, but he studies well, and gets good grades."

"If I fail my mission, James won't live to see the end of the war." Hermione said softly. "Neither will Harry's mother. They won't be the ones to raise him. Her muggle family will be." Hermione's eyes misted over as tears sprang to them. "They'll abuse him, starve him. He never complained about it, but Ron and I could tell something was wrong. Even more so, now that I've seen James. He was so skinny, Dorea. It had to have an effect on his magic, as well as his body. Is it possible to snuff out a magical core with mistreatment? I think that was the plan."

"It's possible." Dorea said, calmly, though her rage was boiling. "It's part of why young witches and wizards are taken at eleven. It takes a long time, but it can be done. You won't fail your mission, Hermione. I can see it in your eyes that you won't let yourself fail. For his sake."

Hermione nodded, wiping her eyes. "Its why I didn't kill myself immediately." Hermione said. "Even with everything I know about the future, I can't guarantee that I'm not making everything worse. I know how horrible that sounds, a world where this madman reigns supreme, and muggleborns are kept for breeding stock alone, and muggles are less than cattle, but it could be worse…"

"It can always be worse." Dorea said. "But you know the steps that need to be taken to make it better, don't you?"

Hermione nodded. "It begins with stopping this madman in his tracks. Rounding up his followers, discerning the willing from the coerced, and putting the willing away. Protecting the innocents. Keeping families, and lineages, and Houses from being destroyed."

She paused and absentmindedly returned the floor to its former glory. "Hypothetically, if part of your soul were to be torn away and destroyed, would it diminish your magic?"

"In theory." Dorea said slowly. "Why do you ask?"

"The whole reason I came back here was to find five magical artifacts that, once destroyed, would make Him mortal." Hermione said, as if in a daze. "We were so close. We only had two left to destroy, but we were found out and we failed. I know what they are, I know who has them, and I know how to destroy them, but Dumbledore says I have to wait until I've graduated." She gave a derisive snort. "As they weren't all made yet."

"You're certain they are?" Dorea said.

"Absolutely, I am. I've studied this so much and so hard that I can tell you who he killed to make each of them." Hermione said. "We need to move fast, or so many will die in the next eight years that it will devastate the population of Wizarding Brittan for generations. I'm in such a perfect position to fix it all."

Dorea's blood ran cold. "Tell me."

"The Diary from his school days, given to Lucius Malfoy," Hermione said. "The Ring, secreted away in a shack in Little Hangleton, where the Gaunts once lived. The locket, found in the possession of a woman named Hepziba Smith and hidden in a seaside cave where his orphanage used to take the kids to play. The cup of Helga Hufflepuff, found with the locket, and given into the care of Bellatrix Black. Lastly, The Lost Diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw hidden in the room of lost things." Hermione frowned. "That one, at least, is safe enough at Hogwarts."

Dorea gave a wicked smirk. "And I can get you two of the others." She said, "Provided, of course, they've been handed into the care of those you say."

"I think that's why Dumbledore wants me to wait." Hermione sighed. "We have no way of knowing for certain that the Diary has been placed. I know for a fact the locket hasn't yet. It's placement results in the death of Regulus Black. The Cup I know for certain is in the Black Vaults. My informant told me it'll be there until Bellatrix marries Rodolphus."

Dorea sighed. "I can get you the cup, at least. Pollux will have kittens when he finds out. He has no patience for Bellatrix's Master." She frowned deeply. "It concerns me that you say the locket will cause the death of my nephew. How?"

"Regulus will join the Death Eaters when Sirius is disowned at sixteen." Hermione sighed, conjuring a chair to sit in. "He'll be eager, and Voldemort will ask for a house elf to test its defenses. Regulus will volunteer Kreacher for the task with specific orders to return once the task is done. When Regulus finds out what happened to Kreacher, he'll demand to be taken to the cave and Drink the potion that distorts the mind himself, unwilling to subject Kreacher to it again, and give the locket to Kreacher to destroy while he's swallowed by a lake of Infiri. It'll be in Grimmauld Place after that."

"But if we can convince Regulus to seek help before he goes after the Locket himself, he can be saved." Dorea said.

"Yes, but someone must drink the potion, and this doesn't take place until 1979." Hermione said. "Besides, it's all cause and effect. If Sirius doesn't get disowned, and I refuse to let that happen, then Regulus may not join the Death Eaters right away."

"Why does Sirius get disowned?" Dorea asked.

"For refusing." Hermione answered.

Dorea nodded. "I assume Charlus and I took him in?"

"Naturally." Hermione said with a wry smile.

They sat in silence for a long while, both thinking over the conversation. Dorea got up and paced around the room, thinking hard as she glided across the floor.

"I don't know about this sea-side cave, but I recall my mother speaking on the fall of the Gaunt family, more as a cautionary tale, I think, but I remember she told me of Marvolo, Merope, and Morfin. Marvolo and Morfin went to Azkaban on the charge of cursing muggles. Morfin was sent away for murdering some land owners in the county, I believe. Merope, she said, dropped off the face of the world. The family had, of course, lost their fortune long ago, but the family was still proud and pure as any, a direct line from Salazar Slytherin himself, as the story goes. Little Hangleton … I know of the place. Yes, though I dare say there'll be curses and such to protect the object." Dorea tilted her head and paused in front of Hermione. "Cassiopeia is the most experienced of us in the Dark Arts. The Black Libraries are extensive, and she's read them all, I dare say. It's all academic for her, but she was a curse breaker for a long time in her youth. Some forty years. She'd be able to get through whatever traps and spells he has in place…"

"Do you mean to bring the whole Black family into the affair?" Hermione asked, shocked.

Dorea's eyes lit up. "Dear brilliant girl, of course not. Bellatrix is his right hand, of course. My siblings, however, have no love for him and are very trustworthy. I've claimed you, and so will they. It'll get us a start on what we need. If you're right, and they're vessels for the soul, then we'll want to destroy them all at once. Narcissa will give us access to the diary, somehow, and Regulus to the locket."

Hermione smirked. "And the Blacks take the credit for ending the Dark Lord. They'll have to renounce Bellatrix."

Dorea smirked. "Dear girl, I've been bitching to Pollux for months on that very subject. It's not right for a Black to bend the knee to anyone. She and that fiancée of her are absolutely ridiculous about it. I don't know what Cygnus was thinking of. Of course, now she's trying to drag and upstanding young man like Lucius into it. Ugh."

"Upstanding?" Hermione asked, stunned.

"Surely you didn't think the man completely heartless?" Dorea asked.

Hermione cocked her head. "Considering I'd been chained to the floor and tortured in his drawing room and he did nothing to stop it, Yes."

Dorea sighed. "A coward, certainly," She murmured, "But he's not heartless. He dotes on Narcissa. Loves her truly. That is a love match, Hermione, make no mistake. I'm familiar with Abraxas Malfoy and while the family is rather dark, Abraxas is no fool. He'll go where the power is."

Hermione sighed. "I suppose the way he spoiled his son rotten would be an indication that he cares, at the very least, for his bloodline."

"As we all do." Dorea said with a laugh. "He also cares for the magical community, however. Malfoys are not fools. Anyone with sense can realize that if purebloods continue to interbreed the way we have been for the last century, we'll soon become like the Gaunts. Inbred and stupid with it. We'll wipe ourselves out before long. Most purebloods find halfbloods to be acceptable, but the only way for that to happen are for muggleborns to marry into society. Besides, the Ministry defines a pure lineage as one with at least seven generations of magical blood marrying magical blood. In the old days, before purebloods were so conceited and prideful, muggleborns were considered budding lineages. New lines Houses in the making. I think we need to bring that though back to fruition, don't you?"

Hermione contemplated this for a while. "I think so." She said with a smile.

Dorea nodded. "I quite agree, and what better way to start than by toppling a madman with no common sense?"

Hermione laughed and went back to her training.

Hermione passed her exams with flying colors. Not wanting to draw more attention to Hermione, the grades were issued, informally, within the hour, and Dumbledore had Hermione put on the Sorting Hat to identify her house. Naturally, she was placed in Gryffindor, although the Hat had decided to be rather chatty and informed Hermione that he was only putting her there because Dumbledore had asked it of him for her safety. Had it been more than a formality, he would have placed her in Slytherin with no hesitation.

Hermione and Dorea came out of the Floo into Potter Manor with Hermione positively fuming.

"Meddling old bastard." She snarled as she pulled off her traveling cloak.

"Language, my dear." Dorea reprimanded gently, not understanding the girl's ire.

"I'm sorry." Hermione sighed, explaining what the Hat had said. "He thinks that he can just move us around like pieces on a chess board without all of the information and it's wrong. He doesn't seem to care about the people he's putting at risk as long as his objectives are achieved for the greater bloody good. It's maddeningly infuriating. These are people, lives, and he spends them like they're sickles."

"That's hardly fair, Hermione." Dorea said as they made their way to the parlor for tea. "Dumbledore knows the cost of everything he does, every decision he makes, and I can assure that the it weighs on his conscience every minute."

"Does it?" Hermione asked. "My first year he brought the Philosopher's Stone into the school and hid it within the Mirror of Erised, knowing that a broken Dark Lord was looking for it. Instead of burying it in the lake or forest, he sets it behind a maze of traps that three first years were able to break and get through, let alone a fully qualified wizard."

Dorea looked appalled. "Surely not."

"As one of the first years that did it, I can assure you that he did. My second year, the Diary was slipped into the hands of a first-year girl, by your upstanding Lucius, and possessed the girl, causing her to open the Chamber of Secrets. Dumbledore, instead of mounting a search for the Chamber, or sending the students to a safer location until the monster could be dealt with, allowed himself to be removed from the school for lack of action by a blackmailed Board of Governors, coincidentally also blackmailed by Lucius Malfoy, and Harry was the only one brave enough to find the Chamber, and slay the monster inside. Which is a Basilisk, by the way. I'm going to have to find a way to deal with that before something goes horribly wrong and it gets loose." Hermione snorted. "I've no doubt that Dumbledore's intentions are good, Dorea, but the simple fact of the matter is that he has no real concept of what he's doing. I'm sure given the opportunity, he'd try to do with Voldemort what he did with Grindewald, and sent him to a prison, but it simply won't work. Voldemort's most loyal followers are both fanatical and mad. They would seek him out and restore him to power. It's what they did when the world thought him dead, it's what they'll do if he's simply locked in prison."

Dorea sighed as they stopped outside the Parlor door. "And you mean not to be a chess piece?"

"Absolutely not." Hermione said, sniffing. "It just so happens that being in Gryffindor suits my purposes."

Dorea laughed and led the way in to a congratulatory tea for Hermione's success.

A week later found Sirius summoned home and the Potters walking through Diagon Alley shopping for school supplies. Dorea refused to leave it to the last minute, especially with the House of Black meeting in just a couple of weeks. Hermione had her arm tucked through James's elbow as he led her along behind his parents.

"Alright, children, books or robes next?" Dorea asked, smiling at them.

"Books." Hermione said.

"For once I actually agree with you." James laughed. "We may run into Remus there and I'll finally get to introduce you."

Hermione shook her head. "We'll see him on the train, James. It's not like the world is going to end if I don't meet your friends before school starts. Besides, I'm hoping to make a few of my own, as well."

The quartet of Potters headed towards Flourish and Blott's as the two teens bickered about who Hermione should and shouldn't be friends with. They were laughing as they stepped into the store and were met with a sallow looking boy with a hooked nose and dark, limp black hair, and a pretty girl with waist length red hair and a pair of emerald green eyes that cut through Hermione like a knife. Harry's eyes.

Lily Evans.

Hermione's gazed darted between the Lily and the boy she was with and it dawned on her who it was. Severus Snape, her future Potions professor. She'd know from Harry that he'd gone to school with the Marauders, and Hermione grasped just how volatile the situation she'd just stepped into was. A glance told her that the adult Potters were outside talking to some acquaintance that had stopped them in the street, meaning this could get ugly fast.

"Potter." Lily sneered, looking Hermione up and down. "Who's this, flavor of the week?"

"You and Snivellus can piss off, Evans." James said. "Come on, Maya, lets start getting our books."

"Sure." Hermione said, turning to walk down one of the aisles, more than a little confused at the hostility on James's end. Wasn't he supposed to be desperately in love with her?

Hermione turned back to him in time to see Snape draw his wand. She didn't think, only reacted, throwing herself at James, causing them to fall down the opposite aisle and out of the line of fire. She tried to pull him up so they could run, her body running on pure instinct, but James didn't move. He only held her, stroking her hair, and whispering to her that she was safe, and that Snivellus couldn't do magic outside school.

James looked up as Lily appeared around the corner and he glared. "Why don't you and the grease ball finish what you're doing and leave us alone, would you? Stupid git."

Lily was stunned to see the gentle way that James was guarding the girl in his arms, keeping her face pressed into his collar bone so nothing else made it worse.

"Sorry." Lily said, darting away.

James turned back to Hermione and kissed the side of her head. "It's alright, Maya. He can't curse me. He can't curse you. We're safe." He sat up and pulled her into his lap, rocking her slowly as she started to cry.

"I'm sorry, James." Hermione said. "I don't know what happened. I just saw the wand and reacted."

"Its okay." James said. "Mum worried something like this might happen. She called it … Shell Shock? Trauma from the attack making you react like this."

Hermione giggled a little. "I supposed I should have expected it too." She rested her head on her shoulder. "I'm still sorry. I'm sure that landing hurt a bit."

"I've had worse falling of my broom." James said with a shrug of his unoccupied shoulder.

They looked up as Dorea appeared. "What happened?" She demanded.

"Ran in to a couple of my classmates." James said. "Neither of them particularly like me, and one of them drew a wand. Hermione tackled me out of the line of fire and had a panic attack, Mum."

Hermione looked up at Dorea and knew they would be having a long conversation about this once they were home and the trunks were packed.

"Are you both alright?" Dorea asked gently.

Hermione nodded and so did James, both of them standing from the floor and dusting themselves off.

"I'm embarrassed more than anything." Hermione said. "I'm far too rational to be behaving like a panicked child."

Dorea shook her head. "Don't be, dear. We'll get this taken care of. For now, lets finish up here and head home. I'm getting rather tired of being out in public."

"Guess it's a good thing you only have to do it once a year, huh, Mum?" James asked cheekily.

Dorea shook her head as they made their way through the shelves, pulling out two copies of all the year's book requirements. Hermione looked over the Defense Against the Dark Arts book and frowned. It was a defensive theory book, which didn't bode well in her experience. She leaved through it as they walked and smiled. Ok, so it wasn't Defensive Magical Theory by that Slinkard cow, and it was extremely informative. It was also not the only book requirement for the class. There was a practical sister book they had to get as well. They had the usual suspects for Herbology, Astronomy, Charms, Transfiguration, and Potions. Hermione had only allowed herself the usual two options for new classes. Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. She would not be dealing with that time turner bullshit all over again. Nor would she subject herself to Professor Kettleburn, who routinely had students coming out of the forest injured. Nor would she subject herself to the ridiculousness that was Divination. She didn't care if Trelawney was a real seer.

She frowned. Was Trelawney even at the school yet? She'd have to asked Dumbledore.

James, she was unsurprised to hear, wanted to be an Auror if the international Quidditch Star dream didn't pan out. Because of this he was taking both Arithmancy and Care of Magical Creatures.

"Never know what an Auror will come up against." He'd said. "Could be a dragon, could be some arsehole behind serious wards. Best to have a working knowledge of everything I can, Right?"

It was surprisingly forward thinking. Hermione wondered just how much being abused by the Dursley's for 10 years had stunted Harry's mental and magical growth. He was almost nothing like his father.

Once they were done with their books, they were off to Madam Malkin's for their new robes. James only took a few minutes, but Hermione needed a full wardrobe so she had to stand there for measurements for a while. When they were done, and their robes packed away with the rest of their supplies, they headed back out into the street."

"Is there anything else we need before we head home?" Charlus asked Dorea.

Dorea checked her list. "I don't think so."

James cleared his throat. "Dad, you made a promise."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up as Charlus and James studied each other.

"I did." Charlus said. "Come on then. Eylops or Magical Menagerie?"

"Charlus." Dorea said, nodding pointedly at Hermione.

Charlus nodded. "Sorry, Hermione. I promised James that he could buy a familiar once he reached third year. The same applies to you, of course, if you want one."

Hermione's eyes lit up. "Really?"

Charlus nodded. "Of course."

"I want an owl." James said, pointing to Eylops Owl Emporium.

"Hermione?" Dorea asked.

"Can I get a cat?" She asked, missing Crookshanks. She had no idea what had become of her beloved cat. She'd left him at the Weasley's when they'd made their escape to hunt Horcruxes.

"Of course, love." Charlus said, smiling. "Why don't I take James to get his owl, while you and your mother go pick out a cat?"

"Sounds lovely." Dorea said. "We'll meet at the Leaky Cauldron in thirty minutes."

Hermione and Dorea headed in the direction of Magical Menagerie, Hermione grinning widely. "Why did James have to wait until Third Year?" She asked Dorea.

"Because he was no where near mature enough to take care of one before." Dorea said. "Besides that, you'll have to get the food and treats in Hogsmead, which you'll both have permission for."

"I thought the school fed all of the owls." Hermione said.

"Heavens no." Dorea said. "Familiars are the responsibility of their companion. Whatever cat you get will be fed and cared for by you. I would suggest getting one that's part kneazle. At least then it's intelligent enough to allow you to trim its fur and nails without fighting."

"That was the plan." Hermione said, laughing. They stepped into the store and looked around, Hermione immediately making her way to the pen full of kittens rolling and tumbling around. All except for one. In the corner, curled into a ball, was a fluffy orange, angry looking kitten with a squashed face and a bottle-brush tail. Hermione's eyes widened as they filled with tears. How was a cat able to live twenty-five years and still be young and healthy?

Dorea walked over. "Oh, they're part Kneazle, Hermione. They are highly intelligent. Much like Dolphins. They also live much longer than the average cat."

"Quite right you are, Madam." Said a man, walking over. "Part Kneazles, like these little guys are, live on average fifty years and make excellent companions for witches and wizards alike. They're very good and loyal if they bond with you, and can even sense distrustful people and spot the difference between an animal and an Animagus."

Hermione wasn't paying any attention. The little orange one was staring at her expectantly. His tail flicked as he stood and stretched before walking over and leaping lightly onto the little hutch they were given to sleep in. He wrapped his tail around his paws and stared at her with a bored expression. She knew it well. He wanted out of this pen and he wanted it now. She reached down to pick him up, cradling him in her arms gently. "Its good to see you again, Crooks." She whispered too him.

He purred loudly as he made himself comfortable in the crook of her arm.

"It seems someone's made a decision." The salesman said, a little perplexed. "I'm honestly surprised. He's attacked anyone who's tried to take him home. We thought we were going to have him forever."

"Certainly not." Hermione said. "He was waiting for me, after all. How old is he?"

"Six months." The Salesman told her as they made their way to the register. Hermione picked out a basket, blanket, some food, treats, and toys as they went. "He's a bit temperamental. He never played with the other kittens, didn't like being handled, and refused to go home with anyone."

"Crookshanks is far to dignified for play tumbling." Hermione said, smirking. "When he's hunting, its for a purpose." She felt a sense of satisfaction at the thought of him chasing Pettigrew around for a year trying to get him for Sirius. "And as I said, he's been waiting for me."

Dorea smirked proudly as Hermione signed all the necessary paperwork for ownership of even a part kneazle, fitting him with a lovely black collar for his license. Once Crookshanks was comfortably tucked away in his blanket lined basked, Hermione took the bag holding all of her other supplies, which ended up including food dishes as well.

"I'm glad he found his home." The Salesman said. "The breeder was concerned about him too. I'll be glad to tell her that she's got nothing to worry about. What did you call him? Crookshanks?"

"That's right." Hermione said.

"A good name for him." The man said. "We hope to see you again in the future."

Dorea and Hermione left and Dorea looked down at Hermione, who was walking a little straighter, and much lighter. "He was yours before?"

"I was a Third Year then, too." Hermione said. "My friend's pet rat was sick." She decided to edit this particular story because she would be fixing the Pettigrew related issues. "He went in to get a tonic for him and Crooks came to me. Decided I was going to be his companion. He's part cat as well, but the larger part is Kneazle. He's smarter than the ones that are half and half. Much more dignified."

"He'll be a good companion for you." Dorea said.

And useful, Hermione agreed mentally. They met up with James and Charlus at the Leaky Cauldron, as planned, and had a late Lunch while James was introduced to Crookshanks, and Hermione was introduced to Andros the Invincible, James's Long Eared Owl. Crookshanks leapt out of his basket and sat in James' lap, staring at him. Eventually, he reared up and placed his paws on James's chest and rubbed against him, cheek to cheek, before moving to curl up contentedly on Hermione's lap. James stared in shock for a moment.

"What just happened?" James asked.

"He's marked you as his." Hermione said, stroking the soft, unmated fur. "Cats and Kneazles have scent glands in their cheeks that allow them to mark others as family, which is different than marking territory. He's accepted that you're my brother."

James stared at her for a long minute. "What more do I have to do to get you out of the library?"

"It'll never happen." Hermione said. "I happen to like learning things, and just because you keep me out of the family library with all your flying, and pranking and playing, doesn't mean you can ever keep me from my own personal library."

James shook his head in disgust. "You and Remus, I swear to Merlin, are two peas in a pod. I got almost that exact same speech last summer when he was over for a couple weeks."

Hermione nodded. "Bookworm code. We read a lot, and if you come between us and our books, or a fellow bookworm and their books, retribution will be swift and painful."

"And she has the brains to do it, too." Charlus said proudly. "Speaking for brains. Hermione, I don't want to pressure you, but if we're going to do any kind of adoption ritual, I need to know soon. The next full moon is two days before we have to go to the Black Ancestral Home, and it'll be our only chance before you return to school."

Hermione nodded. "I've been wrestling with this, because it is such a big decision, but I think you're right in that it will be more protection for myself and for everyone around me. So my answer is yes. I will gladly become your daughter."

James whooped and pulled her into a tight hug, unseating and irritating Crookshanks, who simply leapt into his basket with an annoyed growl. Hermione hugged James back and took a deep breath. This was her home now. She was going to rebuild her family here, she was going to take down a madman, and she was going to give her best friend the life he deserved.

Failure was no longer an option.

A/n: Like I said above, I'm going to try to dedicate some time to this. Its my only active fic at the moment, so unless something monumental happens with my original, any writing efforts are going to be spent here. We'll see how it goes.

Leggy Freak003