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A BIG thanks to the betas Angstar54! And the usual disclaimer still applies: The characters and canon situations in this story belong solely to JK Rowling and any company affiliated with her. If needed any other item belonging to another will be copyrighted at the end of the chapter. The plot however is solely mine.


Chapter Nine: Of Rats and Strangers


"Why did you call me here Lucius?" Hermione questioned. The brunette did not know how to handle the unusual occurrence. The Lord Malfoy preferred to ignore her presence. In fact, Hermione believed he only tolerated her friendship with his wife because it made Narcissa happy.

And Hermione had no problem with that; so few purebloods really cared about their spouse's feelings. The mere fact Lucius even tolerated her presence for his wife spoke volumes; he actually cared about the woman he wedded. And for that reason, Hermione felt no disdain at his so easy dismissal of her on most days.

But he had flooed her. The mere idea that Lucius actually wanted to talk with her, startled Hermione. She had never been close to the older man. In fact, the only upper year the auburn witch ever really felt close to had been Cissa, but that only lasted her first two years as the blonde graduated afterwards. This prompted Hermione to wonder what exactly he wanted to discuss with her.

Brown orbs stared into silver ones, waiting for the answer to be revealed. She had opened her mouth to demand an answer but before even a word had been uttered, a sob drew her attention away. Hermione's eyes widened, upset with the fact that she had not realized her distressed friend only a few meters behind the stony man.

"Oh Cissa," Hermione ran forward and wrapped her arm around the sobbing woman. The eighteen year old could tell that the elder witch's tears were not a recent occurrence. Layers upon layers of dried tear stains coated the alabaster checks. It only took a moment for Hermione to realize what went so terribly wrong for the Malfoy family: a miscarriage.

Her heart wrenched at this strong woman breaking—to lose a child is hard for any mother, but especially for a Pureblood. Children were precious to their community because couples had such a hard time conceiving.

"Cissa, honey, everything will be okay. I promise…I promise you," the brunette whispered into the older witch's hair, trying her best to comfort her. But Hermione knew it would be a difficult task, particularly because she had never been with child, nor had she prepared her life to revolve around a baby. How could she ever truly know what her dear friend felt throughout this whole mess?

"What happened? Did the healers tell you anything?" Hermione asked. It was such an odd occurrence for Cissa to lose her child—most women carrying a six month old child were safe, the child would be delivered healthy. So what happened? Why did Mrs. Malfoy have a miscarriage so late into her pregnancy?

The brunette looked to Lucius, who merely shook his head. Neither he nor his wife knew why she had lost the child. But Lucius did know that Narcissa needed comfort, she needed a friend to help her get through this whole ordeal. Yet the only one that even crossed his mind had been the young witch his wife's cousin always spoke about. If anyone could calm his wife, it would be the young Miss Potter.

Hermione vaguely noted Lucius turning to vacate the parlor, to where she did not know. And she did not care either; right now her friend needed her. So, Hermione focused on the crying witch. It broke her heart to see such a strong woman in this situation.

It did not help the matters any that she had lost the child during the Yuletide Holidays; that thought just made Hermione all the more upset. Losing a child hurt enough, but losing said child during a time of celebration… how was that even fair?

"How are you right now, Narcissa?" Hermione questioned. She knew it sounded horrid. Obviously the woman felt devastated. But the brunette knew that if the Lady Malfoy at least talked through the pain, she would begin healing. If only a little bit.

Narcissa continued to sob, shaking her head into Hermione's shoulder repeatedly. The older female could barely form words—how would she be able to even arrange a sentence? The blonde's heart ached, and all she wanted to do was cry in her bed. Yet the brunette in front of her would not allow her that small peace, not any time soon.

Vaguely, the older witch knew that had the roles been reversed that she would be the one refusing to allow Hermione to wallow away in misery. The blonde witch would never demand for the girl to straighten up, but she would not leave her alone either. However, none of that mattered right now. No, right now Narcissa wanted to be alone to mourn for the child she could never hold.

After several minutes of silence, Narcissa finally managed to choke out a few words. "It hurts." Her voice sounded so ghastly to her own ears. How could Bambi want to listen to her wretched sobs? How could anyone want to hear the wailings of an upset witch?

"I bet it does. But you are not alone Narcissa," Hermione whispered softly, caressing the disarrayed blonde locks. The brunette knew that what she had left unsaid spoke louder than anything else she could have possibly attempted to convey.

Narcissa would never be alone, not completely.


"Bambi always said you were a rat," a regal drawl proclaimed from the left side of the room, scaring the rat turned human, "I did not think she meant it literally, however." The tone held amusement, and the laughter that followed served to only anger Peter further; he hated when people laughed at him. But the familiar name 'Bambi' seemed grabbed his attention more. This person would have had to know him personally to know his animagus form—but how? Only the Marauders knew. Perhaps he heard it from his time in Hogwarts and the 'Bambi' person had merely called him a rat on coincidence?

"W-who g-goes t-there?" Peter questioned. He tried to remain calm, to appear strong; but Pettigrew knew he should have expected something akin to an ambush. Entering a snake pit alone never turned out easy. Yet he chose to do so—he wanted to do it—so perhaps they would accept him, allow him to enter their ranks…to finally be a part of the winning team.

"I should be asking you the very same," the voice replied. Yet he stepped out of the shadows nonetheless, revealing himself to the scared Gryffindor Alumnus. The dark haired male found it rather amusing to know he terrified the older boy. A moment of pause entered his thoughts, before deciding that Pettigrew was indeed a boy; no man would shake so profoundly.

"R-Regulus Black!" The less than manly shriek following that statement made the younger Black quirk an eyebrow. Regulus did not understand why his brother's friend seemed surprised at his Death Eater status. But the seventeen year old did wonder how Pettigrew discovered one of the Death Eater's hideouts. Moreover, the perplexed Hogwarts student could not even manage to think of a reason as to why the swine came in the first place.

"What are you doing here, Pettigrew?" Grey eyes narrowed, his left hand twirling his wand. As a Death Eater he had to guard their lair by any means necessary, but as a friend—he should just kill the bastard. Regulus did not ignore the nasty glares Peter had often shot at Hermione. Though the witch refused to acknowledge the inexcusable animosity directed towards her, Regulus did not agree with that concept. Anyone who harmed his Bambi would suffer.

"I came to speak with the Dark Lord about joining his effort." Peter smiled smugly at the shocked expression Sirius' brother could not conceal. It made him feel worthy, to be able to shock the normally stoic individual. The Gryffindor Alumnus frowned when Regulus did not reply to his remark, instead merely turning around after giving him a swift hand motion to follow. Peter, had his animagus form not been a rat, would have had a hard time following the younger male through the winding passages.

But when a light appeared at the end of their tunnel and chuckling could be heard, it finally hit Pettigrew—he would be meeting with Voldemort in only moments. He began to have doubts. Did he make the right choice? Would he actually live past tonight? Did living past this war really mean more to him then the people who called him a friend? With that last thought his eyes darkened marginally, already knowing the answer to be yes. Had it been one of their lives on the line, he knew they would have easily sacrificed him.

"My Lord, we have a… prospective." Curious whispers sounded throughout the room, causing the Dark Lord took a moment to quell echoing undertones.

"Ah, a wizard…Mr. Pettigrew, I do believe… how may I be of help to you today?" Voldemort's question sounded more like a statement to the pudgy male. And the way the wizard stared at him made Peter all the more nervous. It felt like Voldemort could see straight through his soul.

"I would like to join your cause, sir." Pettigrew felt proud of himself for how strong his voice seemed to appear: it was firm and definitely did not quake like it had earlier that evening with Regulus.

"What worth would you bring to me?" the Slytherin Alumnus demanded to know. He would not allow insubordination into his ranks. Unlike Dumbledore, Voldemort would never allow someone so heavily tied to the other side entrance into his rank—without reason any way.

"I am a member of the Order of Phoenix, and a trusted friend of the Marauders; I can give you detailed information on any of their plans of action. All I ask for in return is your protection. I am not a fool. I can clearly see you coming out the victor in this war and I value my life far too much to sacrifice it for those bumbling fools." Peter replied. The Dark Lord saw merit in the man coming to him; it would do well to have a spy within Dumbledore's ranks. And perhaps he could use the portly man to convince the Potter Heir to join him on this quest. The Potters were wealthy, and should the Heir submit to his rule, he would forgive them for all their past wrong-doings.

Regulus on the other hand wanted to protest. He saw the way the Voldemort pondered the boy's reason; and even though Regulus never wanted to become a Death Eater, his pride would not allow a traitor into his ranks. But his honor as a friend wished the turncoat killed, because if he could sell out his friends of eight years, there was no telling of what he would do to strangers with which he wished to be allied.

Pettigrew, feeling comfortable with the fact that the Dark Lord did not immediately kill him, continued on hoping to entice the evil wizard into accepting him as a Death Eater. "In fact, I know exactly how you can lure James into joining your side—his sister, Hermione…"

An inhuman snarl came out of Regulus' throat, startling the portly boy. "The fact you even think of her as one of Potter's weaknesses shows how blind you really are. After all, you did point out their kinship held no relevance as she did not truly hold Potter blood," The seventeen year old finally understood what Bambi had meant when she said 'If looks could kill'; because if he could, his silver eyes would destroy the traitorous bastard. His Bambi would never be used as bait. Though Regulus had to admit to being rather proud of the fact his ire did not reflect too much upon his words.

"Surely she would like to see him hurt?" Peter questioned. He had not missed how even the dangerous witch Bellatrix took a menacing step towards him. It seemed that Hermione had not only captured Sirius' brother's protection, but also that of his deranged cousin. With a gulp, Peter added, "You Slytherins did always like revenge, right?" The icy laugh that ripped out of Regulus' throat seemed to squash the idea that even the notion of revenge would appeal to the Slytherins.

"She is a Slytherin, she can easily acquire her own revenge should she ever seek it; so do not doubt for a moment that she cannot, Pettigrew." Silver eyes stared at the corpulent fellow. There were a lot of things Regulus had wished to tell the rodent, nothing which would be wise to disclose here. So far, Hermione had eluded Voldemort's attention—he did not care for her so long as she refused to meddle into his affairs.

And so Regulus allowed himself a moment to ponder how exactly he should word his next phrase. He could not allow Hermione to seem so soft hearted that other Death Eaters would seek to harm her, but he could not allow her to appear threatening either. If the Dark Lord saw her as a threat, not much would stand in his way of annihilating her. "The only reason your unruly gang saw no retribution, Pettigrew, happened to be because Hermione held honor. She respected her family, like every Pureblood should, and therefore refused to harm her family heir at the time. But make no mistake; just because she loosened her ties to them, does not mean she would ever help you."

Beady eyes glowered at the statement. "She has never liked me, but I am sure she would accept my help in harming her brother!" Peter believed his statement—Bellatrix and Regulus could see it—but he did not know Hermione nearly as well as they did.

"Hermione has no use for turncoats," Bellatrix sneered. The raven haired woman understood why the mere presence of this Gryffindor made her cousin ill. Filth bred filth, and it came off in waves from this ugly male. Admittedly, Bellatrix thought that the Gryffindor Alumnus would be useful to their cause. After all, knowing what the enemy planned would always ensure their victory. But the complete disregard of loyalty he gave toward supposed friends, made her instincts on red-alert. And Bellatrix had always trusted her instincts, as they had never failed her before. No one ever valued a traitor, no matter the side. If her instincts were warning her away from this male, she would steer clear. Pettigrew wished to turn on his friends so easily and without prompting—what made him turning on them any different?

"'Tis not seasonable to call a man traitor that has an army at his heels, Bella. Besides, even a turncoat holds value." The sickly, sweet voice of Voldemort refocused all of the occupants on the makeshift throne. Looking at the rather extravagant seat, Regulus realized what his Bambi meant when she claimed Voldemort thought himself a god. How he so easily captured the attention of people, making them cower in fright, and even how he placed himself—chair against the far wall, exactly in the middle—seemed to reinforce his inflated ego. All eyes watched him, all his followers obeyed his rulings, he could kill them anytime he so chose. This sick monster truly thought himself as a god.

"I do not see why you would even think of trusting someone with the animagus form of a rat," Regulus stated, blandly. His statement seemed to shock the crowd once more; most of the murmurs relating to how that would benefit their cause. No one really paid much attention to rats, preferring to ignore the vermin.

"She would help—I know she would," Pettigrew stated firmly, diverting the subject away from that of his allegiance. The female would seek revenge, she had too. That was the very nature of her being female. To hear that she would not seek retribution made him irate; he did not spend six years in Hogwarts ruining the bond between the two siblings for her to not seek retribution.

"Hermione will not take sides in this war unless provoked; but she will never help you, not after everything you and your friends have done. Cease with the notion that she would because unlike Dumbledore, Hermione would kill any traitor."

"Then why does she not kill you?" Peter questioned. He received a shrug from Regulus in response; the seventh year would not divulge any facts about his relationship with Hermione. His Bambi had known from the beginning where his allegiance and that of his cousins lay. Although they sided with the Dark Lord—Regulus by force and Bellatrix by choice—they were still loyal to her, and for that Hermione eagerly returned the devotion in spades.

"Why does she not side with us?" Rodolphus questioned.

"So long as our intent does not impede her…goals…then she will not stand in our way. Hermione prefers to stay neutral—she has far better taste then her family does." Bellatrix responded, glaring at her husband. Though her voice held the regal sneer it normally did, the Lady Lestrange knew her family understood just how scared she truly felt. She could see it in her cousin and sister's gaze; they too felt that same, knowing churn in their stomach.

"What did she say exactly?" Voldemort's tenor voice questioned, his fingers idly twisting his wand.

Bellatrix resisted the desire to flinch; her Lord had a sadistic side and made sure to let all of his followers know it. It would not be the first time that she had told the Dark Lord something that sparked his ire which instigated a few rounds of torture. And that simple twisting of his wand, made it hard for Bellatrix to truly form her words. She was not the infallible witch so many perceived her to be; she feared pain just like the rest of them. And no one, not even she, could withstand the Cruciatus Curse for too long a time period.

"She told me that blood will rain and she cares not whose," Bellatrix mellow reply seemed to draw out angry gasps from her fellow Death Eaters. The fact that a mere student would dare threaten them, even indirectly, had the majority of them fuming. But it only took Bellatrix icy glares to quite the irate reaction so she could speak once more. "But Ms. Potter is not like the rest of her family. She has shown allegiance to my cousin Regulus and by extension to my sister and me. So I plead you to take heed milord when I say this: to harm any of us will ensure her wrath."

Pettigrew let out a loud snort, clearly showing his disagreement with the deadly witch's statement. "You obviously do not have enough trust in your Lord's power if you think that chit could scare him."

Bellatrix's cold eyes zeroed in, and with a flick of her wand coward began screaming. "Listen here and listen well you whelp. You are not worthy to question my words—especially not with the cowardice you show." Another round of screams tore from the blonde's lips. Vaguely he found himself surprised to even be able to remain on his knees. Was this what his mother meant by you had to mean for the Cruciatus Curse…to really wish this pain upon someone?

"Ms. Potter can be a dangerous opponent should her wrath be instigated. For now she remains complacent, much to our benefit. But I assure you, should she become irate because something happened to us, Hermione will strike and she will decimate any who oppose her." Bellatrix responded, allowing her warning to ring not only to the now gasping man on the floor, but to her fellow Death Eaters as well. Her eyes met those of her sister's, and she briefly saw the amusement that laced her sister's lips.

Yes, Bellatrix too found it ironic that their innocent Bambi had a rather nasty set of claws.


"You should not be here," Regulus stated, his expression appearing unnerved. His mask of indifference concealed the seventeen-year-old's shock. Sure, Sirius would often come to Hogsmeade and Regulus knew that, but the fact his brother had come to the Hog's Head surprised Regulus.

"Nor should you, the Christmas Holidays are almost over, should you not be home?" The older Black responded, bringing a shot glass to his lips. Firewhiskey always did help ease his nerves, and this unexpected meeting with Regulus would definitely be nerve wracking. He planned to confront his younger brother, just not at the present moment, not when everything that happened was still so fresh in his mind.

"According to Bambi, home is where you are most content," Regulus replied. He signaled the barman to get him a glass and a bottle. Hermione, he knew, would probably need one as well. Although he did not know all the details, Hermione did tell him that she had met with her family, which that in itself spelled out catastrophe. Some Firewhiskey would do them both good, and Aberforth eagerly supplied them with it.

At first, Regulus questioned why the barman would so willingly give him and his friend alcohol, when he knew from past experience that the establishment owner never sold to Hogwarts students. But with Bambi, the elderly man seemed eager to give her the burning liquor. Perhaps his best friend just held that charm, or perhaps Aberforth could see something that he and the young witch shared. Probably something to do with the Arianna the two often whispered about.

The barman set down two bottles of Firewhiskey, just seeming to know that Regulus would bring one to the kind, young witch who reminded him so much of his dear, deceased sister. Opening one bottle, he poured the lad a shot before heading into his back room for a little time of solace.

"How is she?" Sirius found himself asking. The raven haired male had not even meant to ask that question to begin with. But the words just tumbled out of his lips before he could even stop them. The Gryffindor Alumnus noticed how his brother's shoulders stiffened, clearly not wanting to answer the question. And faintly in the back of his mind, Sirius found it uncomfortable to see his brother so close yet so distant from him. But at the same time, he felt content to know that at least someone had been there for his brother when he had stopped.

"She is getting by, but right now it is hard for her…" The guilty look at his arm that Sirius caught from Regulus supplied the rest of the sentence. His Death Eater status seemed to be taking a toll on his and Hermione's friendship. But Sirius never doubted for a moment that all the pressure the two felt merely came from their attempts to circumvent the mark so Regulus could escape the confinement he placed himself into.

"Then you should not have joined," Sirius muttered angrily. He did not know why he felt so angry about it—the nineteen year old just knew he did. Perhaps the enmity he felt came from the fact that his little brother would so willingly put the friend that stood by him in harm's way. After all, nothing good could come from being a Death eater, nor would any good come from knowing one. They were bad luck to begin with.

"And you should have kept your mouth shut," Regulus growled, returning his brother's ire in spades. The younger of the two knew Sirius did not understand his predicament. He did not know what it felt like to be ignored by the one you respected most, and then forced to take their place in a world you did not care to be a part of from the start. "You know nothing of my situation, Sirius, and because of your pompousness you never will. Do not prove yourself even more a fool.

"I know that—" The glass in Regulus' hand smashing on the counter shocked Sirius enough that he paused in his statement. Regulus had never been violent, not as a child nor as a Hogwarts student. The closest Sirius had ever seen his young brother turn violent, prior to this moment, had been right after he first ran away from him in his sixth year when Regulus threatened him on the train. But even that was only for his best friend.

"This is exactly why Hermione and I became friends in the first place. You and that prat best mate of yours seem to think you know everything about us, but you don't know a damn thing!" Regulus growled out. His brother had no right to insinuate he knew anything. Hermione, although not a Death Eater, was the only one who knew the full situation. She made sure he spared her no details, made sure to be the shoulder he cried on when he had to kill an innocent child, made sure his heart remained intact at each cruel thing that monster made him do. Hermione knew him: the good, the bad, the scared, the betrayed, the strong, and the brave. If anyone could judge his actions, his character, it would be his best mate. No one else.

Hermione was the sister of his heart, the one who truly knew him and yet refused to judge. She filled the void that Sirius' betrayal had caused. And he did the same. But according to her, Regulus did more. His Bambi had always been close to James—unlike Regulus' relationship with his brother—and it truly devastated her when the Potter Heir severed their bond. According to Hermione, Regulus glued her back together; he made her realize how a real sibling acted. He kept her sane, although Regulus would say she did just as much as he. If not more so, with how ardently she was attempting to save him from the condemnation his mother had subjected him to.

"Look, I do not care if you are a Death Eater, Regulus." Sirius replied after a few moments of silence. He did not know how to approach the topic of how he even knew his younger brother's status. Or the fact that Regulus' best mate even brought the knowledge to his attention, let alone the fact that if he had actually accepted the girl's favor, Regulus might not even bare that mark on his arm. "But I do care that my best mate is hurting because his sister no longer cares," Sirius stated. "So if you help me get her to talk to him, perhaps I can help you out?"

Regulus did not react how Sirius thought he would. Normally a Slytherin would take any offer into consideration, at least to see whether or not they could truly benefit from it. But his brother instantly denied the offer. "That witch is truly magnificent: she has a heart of gold. But even she has her breaking point, Sirius. And that bridge has long since passed for her and Potter. She trusted him, Sirius, yet he never cared enough to return the favor—especially when she needed it most." Silver eyes were solemn, clearly knowing just how much that incident in their fifth year had shaken the once unwavering faith Hermione had towards her family. However, Regulus also knew that Hermione had already forgiven James for his crass words, most likely knowing that they were said in anger and not so much in a way that the Potter heir believed them to be true. That being said, Regulus also knew that words said in anger where harder to erase.

"So listen carefully when I say this, because I will not do so again. I will not help you—I see no reason to. Had it not been for either mine or our cousins' friendship, Bambi would not have blossomed. She would have been a reclusive bookworm who always questioned her own sense of worth. Always wondering what she did wrong to cause her brother's hatred—"

Sirius interrupted his younger brother. "James has never hated Hermione!" Sirius could not help but question if their two younger siblings really saw them that way. Did Regulus and Hermione really seem to think that James and he hated them? How could they think that? Sure, he'll admit that both he and James had let their temper get the best of them at times in the past and probably worded things badly, but neither James nor he hated their younger siblings. How could they hate the ones they adored the most?

"Then he has a damn funny way of showing it," Regulus scoffed. Lions were truly stupid creatures, but lion worshippers are not much better. After all, look where it got Bambi and himself?

"Just what are you trying to say, Regulus?" Sirius snarled. The older brother could hear the insinuation underneath the words, and the nineteen year old male did not like it one bit.

"I am saying Hermione is better off without any interaction from your best mate or his cronies!" the seventeen year old replied, pouring himself another shot of Firewhiskey. The glass did not even hit the counter before he quenched it down. He now understood why Lucius and Severus always drank. The problems might not go away, but at least it made the attempt at handling them appear easier.

When Regulus saw Sirius open his mouth to undoubtedly say something tactless, the seventh year spoke once more. "What you all perceived as harmless pranks towards her, she saw as cruel. I had to spend countless nights comforting her because Hermione did not understand why you all were being malicious." The thought crossed his mind briefly that perhaps if the two sets of siblings had actually tried to talk all of these problems out in the beginning, they might have been in a different position at the present moment.

"They were just pranks! Those shouldn't have made the girl cry!" Sirius exclaimed, though he did feel troubled that their jokes made her upset enough to cry. No one ever wanted to be the cause of someone's tears—especially not a best mate's younger sister.

"To you all they were harmless shenanigans. But to Hermione they were not. Instead of being the brother she grew up with, Potter teased her; Bambi had to deal with not only a House full of people who already decided to hate her because of the familial name Potter, but all of his idiocies as well." Regulus stated, and although his voice sounded calm and collected, his silver eyes gave way to his true emotions. The seventh year wizard disliked revealing his best mate's secrets, ones she had relayed in confidence. But his brother needed to hear this, needed to understand that Hermione had to deal with a mean House as well as James and his lot. A sheltered eleven year old could only take so much before they broke or changed. Hermione, Regulus knew, decided to take the risk of changing over breaking.

With that said, Regulus took the remainder of his bottle and the unopened one, and stood up to leave. "None of you know her, Sirius. If Potter wants a shot, quit believing her to be what you expect and look at her for what she is. Hermione is a lot more than just his little sister."

The young man stood there for a moment; in his somewhat intoxicated stupor he did not really know how to convey his last few thoughts. How would his Bambi phrase what he wished to? It took him a minute, but the words finally came. "Sometimes you have to get to know someone really well to realize you're strangers."

Sirius mulled over what his brother just revealed to him. Regulus and Hermione thought he and James hated them; Hermione had a hard time dealing with their harmless pranks which did not really seem all that harmless to her. Granted, dealing with a pit of snakes and pranks did sound like a lot of work. Had that been the case for Sirius, he would have gone spare a long time ago. But one thing did ring in his head more than anything: Regulus had been right. Despite everything James could spout of about his adored little sister during their first year, it did not mean much of anything.

Because in the end, they truly were just a bunch of strangers.


Personally I love the whole scene with Regulus and Sirius; some things finally came out into the open in this chapter and I thought it was fun to write.

But you are my readers and it is your thoughts on the story that make it interesting. So tell me what you think?

-Kori

"Sometimes you have to get to know someone really well to realize you're strangers," ©Mary Tyler Moore

"Tis not seasonable to call a man traitor that has an army at his heels," © John Seldan