CHAPTER EIGHT
Youth is never wasted on the young.

-The Weasley's Inn, Montfeurmeil-

After the young Weasley girl is sent back upstairs as well, Sirius is alone with the Weasley matriarch and her husband. The two of them are seated across the table, red-haired and weary. Sirius is glad that these two were the ones to care for Hermione, and feels gratitude towards them for taking her in even though they already had trouble feeding their own.

"Lily passed away this evening," he says in a low tone, so he will not be overheard by the two girls. "She was attacked by a Death Eater -"

"And you tried to defend her!" Molly Weasley exclaimed softly in wonderment, obviously drawing her own conclusions of the evening's events. "Is that how you were wounded?"

Sirius hesitates. It is not too far from the truth, he thinks. Snape might as well have been a Death Eater. "Yes."

Molly seems to want to say more, but Arthur, her husband, stops her, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Take good care of Hermione for us," he says simply.

Sirius stands, pulling on his robes, which flicker between midnight and twilight colors in the glow of the candles. "I will, thank you." His gaze drifts across the shabby room as he removes a bag of money from his pockets. "Please -"

"Oh no, we couldn't -"

"- accept this as payment for Hermione's care," Sirius finishes sharply, leaving no room for argument. "Since Lily wasn't able to. This is what she would have wanted."

"Thank you," Arthur Weasley murmurs, eyes downcast.

"No, thank you for taking care of Hermione."

Hermione lugs her suitcase down the stairs. It is not too heavy for her, but it is bulky, which means she pulls it down each step with a loud 'thump!'. When she reaches the bottom the man - her mother and father's friend - is waiting for her.

"Au revoir, Hermione!" Molly Weasley wails softly. "We'll see you again, I'm sure! Be safe!" Madame Weasley envelopes Hermione in a bone-crushing hug as Hermione squirms in a futile attempt to breathe.

"Do you want to say goodbye to Ginny? I think she was pretty upset," M. Weasley says as she hugs him next, his spectacles sliding sideways on his face.

Hermione bites her lower lip, feeling sad at leaving the smiling girl who was her first and only friend. She opens her suitcase and pulls out the book of fairytales. "Please give this to Ginny," she says seriously to the Weasleys, holding it out in her small hand. "I want her to have it." She'll miss the book, yes, but she's going to miss Ginny even more.

"Thank you, Hermione. I'm sure she'll love it," says M. Weasley.

Hermione gives the couple a half-wistful smile. "Au revoir et merci. For taking such good care of me."

This starts Madame Weasley to tears, and Hermione offers her one last hug before she allows herself to be led away by the tall, mysterious man.

Hermione is silent inside the fiacre for a while, but when she does speak her tone is very adult, even though she couldn't have been more than five years old. "If you don't mind me asking, what's your name, monsieur?"

Sirius is unsure how to answer, since he currently has no name to tell her. "You can call me Snuffles?" he offers lamely.

"Like a pet?" Hermione wrinkles her brow.

"Yes, sort of. Except I look after you instead," he pokes her shoulder. This produces the desired result, and she giggles, a happy sound.

"You know my mother?" she asks.

Sirius digs through his pockets to pull out his most treasured items aside from his silver candlesticks. He offers Hermione a small pile of photographs, on the top of which is a picture of James and Lily clipped from the Daily Prophet. "This is your mum and dad, shortly after they were married." He does not include the fact that the article that this photo had originally been attached to was the James' obituary.

Hermione cautiously takes the first one from him, examining the picture with studious intent before glancing up at the rest with greedy eyes. He passes them to her: him and James at Quidditch; at their graduation; the two of them sharing a flat in London. Sirius regrets that he does not have any more pictures of Lily to offer her.

"Hermione," he starts softly, unsure how to broach the topic. "There's something I have to tell you about your mother."

She's still absorbed in the photograph, so Sirius reaches out to place a gentle hand on her shoulder. "What?"

He bites his lip, then releases it. "She was attacked by a very bad man today. your mother was taken to the hospital, but she wasn't - she didn't -"

Hermione's eyes have filled with tears.

"- she died doing her best to bring you to Montreuil-sur-Mer with her. I only wish I could have done more ..." Sirius feels himself holding back a sudden swell of emotions. "Your mother is with God, Hermione," he gives her a half-smile, "with the angels."

Hermione grabs his hand and slides her small, chubby one inside it, sniffing as the tears slide down to drip from his chin. Sirius squeezes it gently before pulling her across to lie on his lap, stroking her hair.

They travel for another quarter of an hour, just like that, before Hermione breaks the silence.

"What makes a picture move?" she asks quietly, as she touches her father's smiling face lightly. Part of Sirius marvels at the fact that she is trying to change the subject. "The pictures in my books don't move, but these ones do, and Ginny's pictures do."

"It's magic," he tells her, and her interested look brings another half- smile to his lips. "Do you want to see?"

"Yes," she breathes curiously, trying to wipe the miserable tears from her cheeks. "How does it work?"

"Alright. How about I magic you a doll?" Sirius rummages in his bag and pulls out a wooden cube, one that he now specifically carried with him for Transfiguration purposes after the Jean's accident at the well.

"Can I have a cat instead?" Hermione asks shyly sitting up slightly. "I've always wanted a pet."

"A cat it is," he agrees. "Now, watch carefully."

Obediently, Hermione leans forward and stares so hard at the little box that her gaze becomes crossed and her cheeks go pink.

"Perhaps not too carefully," he adds, and she blushes darker before shifting back slightly.

Sirius points his wand at the cube, concentrating, and after a while a cat begins to form. Orange-furred and stripy, he hands it over to a now happier Hermione.

"Did my mum know magic?" she questions next.

"No, she didn't."

"I thought so," Hermione replies smartly. "Or else she would have made me lots of cats." She pets her toy's head. "His name is Crookshanks."

"Hello, Crookshanks," Sirius greets the toy, which watches with blank eyes. The fiacre hits a dip in the road and it jolts him back to their surroundings. Glancing out the window for a minute, he turns back to Hermione. "We should be far enough away now." He signals the driver for them to stop.

"Where are we going?" Hermione inquires.

"Paris, have you heard of it? There are plenty of nice shops and homes there for us."

"Oh, Paris is in one of Ginny's books. It's really pretty. Tres belle," she adds in French.

"Bien," Sirius helps her out of the carriage and sets her on the ground, making a note to buy her new shoes as soon as possible.

After paying the driver and retrieving their luggage, he grips Hermione's hand, kneeling in front of her. "We're going to travel the magical way. So hold on tight while I pick you up."

She nods and he seizes her around the waist, lifting her to shoulder level. Hermione's short arms wrap around his neck.

"You might feel a little dizzy, but just think of it like a carriage ride. If you want, you can hold your breath, I've heard it helps during the first time."

"Ready!" she exclaims, before sucking in a huge gulp of air, giving her the appearance of a chipmunk.

Sirius closes his eyes and spins on the spot, the night swallowing them both.

-Somewhere in Paris-

Somewhere outside lurks a dark shadow of a man in an alleyway. Vermin scurry past, making way to the sewer Parisian system. The Dark Lord has fallen, and after avenging the death of his body it is now time to disappear once more. It was upon meeting Bellatrix Black that he had gleaned this valuable information: that their Lord had taken steps in ensuring his return. It was not known how, or where, but it was known nonetheless. Bellatrix warned him that those who did not keep faith would be punished, and he took the warning well.

Eliminating Lily Granger was a means to an end. The child, he is sure, is now with Sirius Black, unreachable and untouchable. He had known he would only have one chance to attack his targets unprotected, and now he must wait for another day. This will be the proof he brings the Dark Lord when he returns; Lily Granger's death. A worthless Muggle who had married into a Pureblood family and produced half-blood spawn.

The wind howls nearby, but the solid brick wall shields the man from its harsh touch.

In a fiery, smoldering pile at his feet lay a black cloak and white mask. The breeze begins to die as the shadow shrinks down in its shimmering light.

No one notices as the new rat slips into the sewers.

-Wizarding Britain-

In another country wizards and witches are celebrating the downfall of You-Know-Who, cheering the name of the Boy-Who-Lived, a Muggle-born wizard who had been given to a wizarding family after his birth parents had abandoned him. Of the four people in the Longbottom household, only two young boys had survived: Harry Evans and Neville Longbottom.

AN: Sort of had to budge around the last names, you see. Next up: my completely different version of Hermione's education. This chapter is still a teensy bit iffy for me, so know that nothing here is completely concrete. If I change anything, I will let you know at the beginning of the next chapter.