As Hermione roamed the gardens in the Rosier Estate early in the morning, she thought back to the previous day.
Just in a day everything had gone from bad to worse to better to worse again. In all honesty, Hermione had never intended her reception dinner to be in any place other than the Rosier Estate in London. She had thought it was a safer place for everyone involved. But after her magic chose Fleamont Potter as the first Witness, things had to be changed.
In hindsight, Hermione was glad it had turned out for the better. Not only did the ceremony allow her to do things her own way, but it had also created circumstances which permitted her to be introduced to the Potters. She had planned on becoming acquainted with them later on but all of it had worked out far better than she had planned.
The reception lunch at Menaçant Manor had been nothing extraordinary. She had smiled politely and tried to keep her frowns to a minimum. It had been the same as before – the leering, the half-hearted insults, the blatant flirting. Fortunately, Sirius had only stuck to her side for the first half.
Now, Hermione thought he had no doubt run to his Master to tell him about her Witnesses given Tommy's little impromptu appearance at the Potter Manor.
For the second half of the lunch, Hermione had been pleasantly focused on her two new friends – Regulus and Andromeda. The conversation had been good. Between the three of them, other people had been unashamedly ignored and Hermione had had quite an enjoyable time. Hermione had felt her magical kinship with them had only gotten stronger since her marriage that morning and perhaps that had been one of the minimal perks of being married to Sirius.
Regulus had amused her no end by recounting his horror at the stupidity of some of his classmates at Hogwarts. He had longed to step into the real world but Hermione knew he had no idea what it entailed. Regulus had told her that his favourite subject was Potions which had given Hermione something to think about. Hermione had known that to save Regulus from Tom's clutches, she would have to make Regulus's absence a plausible thing.
Hermione had discovered that Andromeda had spent the last couple of years travelling, dodging marriage contracts left and right. Although both of her sisters had been married, Andromeda had said no and her wishes had been respected.
Which was rather remarkable considering the context of the marriage contract itself.
For more than a decade, the Blacks had been in somewhat control regarding marriages. Only those marriages that had been approved by both parties had been completed. Hermione had wondered how they had found out about this clause when Andromeda had diligently supplied the reason, not even pausing in her tale. Andromeda had disclosed that Lycoris Black had tried to force his cousin Cassiopeia Black to marry him and it had resulted in the loss of his magic.
Lycoris Black had become mindless with rage following his failed attempt at marrying Amélie. He had seen no sense when he had tried to convince everyone that marrying his cousin was the best outcome. But Arcturus Black, the Black family Head, had stopped his own brother. While the magical contract had passed on to Sirius, the Blacks had known that Lycoris's rage was the reason he had never procured Amélie.
Which was saying something considering who the Blacks were, Hermione had thought.
But when Lycoris had persisted, his efforts had led him to his own doom. Driven mad by another rejection, he had tried to force Cassiopeia only to be left with no magic before he could even touch her. He had then attempted to attack Cassiopeia like a Muggle when Pollux and Cygnus had decided to save the life of their sister and aunt, respectively. They had shot killing curses and ended the poor sod's miserable life.
After that day, the Blacks had known exactly how powerful the contract was.
To say Hermione had been shocked to hear the end of Lycoris Black would have been putting things lightly. As immensely relieved as she had been that that cretin did not breathe anymore, Hermione had still wondered over Andromeda telling her all this.
To which, Andromeda had simply replied that she was family now.
Which Hermione had been amused to note meant, sharing secrets.
But remembering Andromeda's smiling face yesterday, Hermione felt her heart shrink. The magical contract had been fulfilled now, which meant it would not be long before someone tried to test the occurrence of forced marriages – and Hermione would bet all of her gold that the next victim would be Andromeda.
As Hermione sat down on a stone bench, she longed to go to Dagworth-Granger Manor as she felt her magic was the most content there. No other place had managed to do that for her.
Well, maybe one.
Her visit to the Potter Manor had been exceedingly satisfactory. She had left her reception lunch earlier to prepare for the Ball at the Potter Manor before Sirius even had the chance to escort her. At 7 p.m., Fleamont had arrived – something Hermione had been grateful for.
Amélie had arrived later with Alphard.
Ever since Hermione and Fleamont had done the magic compatibility spell, Hermione had known exactly how interested Fleamont had become in her. His magic had been calm and supportive. It had welcomed her quietly. Although at his age, the magic had become too imbedded in his Core to really alter anything, Hermione had been able to tell that meeting her had done just that.
Fleamont Potter had been nothing like Harry. And yet, Hermione had known him because of her magic. He had bravery and kindness – two things Harry had in abundance.
He might not have realized why Hermione's magic was familiar to him but Hermione had. Harry had been her family and his magic was as much hers as hers was his. They had used their wands interchangeably. Hermione still wore Harry's amulet, which was imbued with his magic.
The Potter House was her shelter in every storm.
If Hermione could be specific, Fleamont's magic had recognized Hermione as the daughter of the Potter house – his family line. Hermione could very well believe Magic wanted to declare her the granddaughter but somehow, only daughter had registered. Otherwise, it would have been harder to explain especially since James was barely a few months older than her. But for once, Hermione had been glad that Fleamont had recognized the sentiment but not the words.
And yet it had somehow been different.
Her last act before she had died had been saving Harry and that was how everything had changed.
She did not know if it was the residue from that fight or the result of her Magic providing the missing pieces but Hermione was now the Guardian of the Potter House.
Hermione twisted her hands in worry. A little breeze from the garden drifted through and her nose was assaulted with the smell of hibiscuses.
Hermione smiled softly.
If Harry was here with her right now, he would have laughed himself silly. He would have declared that Hermione was already the Guardian and Magic did not have to confirm that for him.
Hermione knew how true those words were.
She thought perhaps that had been what went wrong with her marriage with Ron. Even though Ron and Harry had been best friends, Ron had never been able to understand their bond. He had been contemptuous about it. As Magic had started getting harder to control, Ron had been unable to understand why she and Harry had a much greater control over their own – weak as it had been. Perhaps, it had stung him that she had managed a family bond with Harry, when she had never been able to fulfil a family bond with Ron, especially since they had been married.
But Hermione could not dwell on the past too much.
It had brought her and everyone around her grief and pain.
She reflected on her visit to the Potter Manor in the previous timeline. When Harry had finally inherited his lands and bank titles, he had discovered a Manor under the Potter name. Hermione had wondered why the Potters had not stayed in that place but she had gotten her answer when she and Harry had visited the land.
It had been quite clear that the Potter Manor had been destroyed – the result of Dark Magic. Harry had been resolute that it had been the Death Eaters after the events of Halloween of 81' and Hermione had agreed.
However, what Harry had not understood was why his parents had sought refuge in Godric's Hollow when there had been a family Manor they could have used.
But Hermione had been able to answer that. Potter Manor had been abandoned long before it had been attacked. The wards she had felt around had been abysmal as the property had been too wide and there had been no warding stones to link the patterns. Potter Manor relied on Old Magic which only upheld wards if family magic was present. By the time the Potters had gone into hiding, Fleamont and Euphemia had been dead. Charlus, Dorea and their son had also been murdered.
James and Lily had not come into their full power at the age of 20 and Harry had just been born.
The Potter family had been close to extinction, which meant the magic guarding the Manor had also died. Putting a Fidelius on that property might have done more harm than good.
Currently, the Potter Manor thrived.
The Patriarch was alive and kicking so to speak, as was his family.
When Hermione had arrived on the grounds of the Potter Manor, the wild magic had completely engulfed her.
It had been a warm welcome.
She had felt Magic tingle through the web of layers placed on the Manor and how it had strengthened by her arrival.
The Manor had loved having another Potter kin around.
But that was something Hermione could deal with easily. The fact that Potter magic had declared her a Guardian had been another story.
Something she had managed to verify that night.
Hermione had been delighted to meet Euphemia and James. The amount of trust the Potters had placed in her had been reminiscent of how Harry had trusted her. It had been heart-warming.
James had been a nice surprise – she had fully expected him to interrogate her and question her presence but he had not. He had simply showed the house while telling her of his exploits at Hogwarts.
Hermione had been astonished by how easy it had been for him to accept her and she had a brief suspicion that Magic had something to do with that. James was different in a way Hermione had never imagined him to be.
Was the reason because of Sirius's absence from his life?
Nonetheless, Hermione had listened to him attentively while she had sneakily cast her own variations of wards all over the Manor.
And good thing she had.
Hermione had known the second Voldemort had arrived. She had experienced his sick twisted magic too many times to count. Apart from the Horcrux, Hermione had felt him in the Ministry, Godric's Hollow and the Final Battle of Hogwarts. That power had been strong.
But it had been nothing compared to what she had felt at the Potter manor.
This one had been powerful, dangerous and to her immense surprise, alluring. She had to thank the mental shields she had developed in her previous life, the ones she had renewed in this one, which had allowed her to see past him.
To see the monster hidden underneath the pretty curls.
She had barely noticed Bella next to him.
Hermione had discovered that the Wards would allow Tom Riddle to enter even if there had been protections against intruders. But as a guest of a Black, Tom had faced no hurdles.
Hermione had hardly glanced at him when she had recognized the strong glamor he was wearing and she knew it was because his handsome looks had become foul.
She had assumed the deterioration of his looks had been after his resurrection in the graveyard.
But Hermione had always known that the terrible price one had to pay to practice Dark Arts was heavy.
Sirius had shifted closer to her, as if they had been the Dark Lord's fucking welcoming committee.
Her thoughts had allowed her to focus and she had not been scared, which in itself had been a miracle. Hermione had feared for everyone gathered in that room and she knew that had been her first real test of this timeline.
Most of them had never even faced Voldemort before.
But Hermione had, multiple times. She had channelled her inner Harry and when she had realized she had begun glaring too fiercely at him, she had immediately rearranged her features. After that, she had smiled prettily at the pig-face.
She had sensed Sirius's pride at her deference towards Voldemort and the thought had made her sick.
She had wondered at Voldemort's boldness. This Ball had been filled with Order members and the Auror force.
So why was Tommy prancing around like a lion?
When she had seen Fleamont's blank stare as he greeted Voldemort, she had finally understood what Voldemort was trying to do. Hermione had felt the Dark Magic but it had more potency to it than she had ever experienced before.
This kind of Dark Magic had not been just Voldemort alone – which had been something considering how Dark he was. He had done something that added to his Dark Magic and had made it alluring and palpable.
And that had been when Hermione had realized that Voldemort never did anything in vain.
She had quickly scanned the Ballroom and her worst fears had been confirmed – most of the families that were Light had been gathered around; families Voldemort had not been able to reach or persuade.
The previous timeline had not allowed such an event like this – there had been no need. Both sides of war had been clearly divided and those that had chosen to stay away had stayed that way. Voldemort's plan to force the Pureblood or worthy families of the rest of the British Wizarding World had never happened, there had never been an opportunity before.
Most of the Light families had supported the Order and the others had provided safe houses and funds. Voldemort had never been able to force them until the Second War when the Ministry had fallen.
His ultimatum had been simple; join or die.
Something Hermione had been sure what the little dramatic performance with his Dark Magic had been all about. It had been an open challenge to everyone that had gathered in the Ballroom and an experiment to see who had become worthy of his attention by successfully breaking his compulsion.
Hermione had known what kind of magic allowed such a dominant control – and it had been the worst of the worst kind of Dark Magics.
It had been the magic that demanded sacrifice if it had to be fulfilled.
It had been the magic that thirsted for blood and flesh of innocents if it had to be retained.
It had been the magic that resulted, if successful, in a Dark Ritual so sacrilegious that it would have made Magic weep.
It had been the magic that cost, if ruined, the Caster considerable pain.
Hermione had immediately known what to do. Chanting a series of spells in her mind, she had felt the Potter Family Magic surge towards her and obey her.
She had kept her face deliberately blank – she had no reason to allow anyone to suspect her.
Sirius had twitched next to her and she had to control her magic to not touch his.
Lily Evans had been the first to break through the allurement and had been followed by James. Voldemort had noticed them immediately and he had started smiling like a maniac, stalking them.
A furious lion had roared within her mind and Hermione had called upon the Old Magic of the Potter Family to protect them and those they had a duty towards. Immediately, a shimmering shield had formed around the people she had wanted to protect.
Voldemort had tried to attack the shields but they had held. Soon others had broken the allure and they had adopted a fighting stance.
But it had not been enough.
Voldemort had grown brutal in his attempts to take down the shields and Hermione had felt the stabbing pain of his magic fighting against her own. Fleamont had soon joined her with his magic and together the shields had held.
But a certain obscure and malicious Dark Magic had been on the Voldemort's side that night, his attacks had become desperate.
Hermione would have never let that Ballroom become a Dark Ritual space where Voldemort would sacrifice the families to get more dark and perverse power.
She had silently stepped away from Sirius, fingering her amulet.
The piercing pain from Voldemort's attack had not lessened.
Hermione had not been surprised when she had correctly guessed what Voldemort had intended. And she had not batted an eyelash when she had concluded what would be the only thing that would have made him stop.
She had put all the anger, fear and resentment she felt towards Dark Magic and she had poured it into the bond she had with Sirius.
The bond had burned red at once.
An Auriolus Votum would never allow harm to one spouse because of the actions of the other. An Auriolus Votum coupled with the binding Magical Contract would make sure Magic would retaliate if such a bond was usurped.
And it had.
Sirius Black had been responsible for Voldemort's visit. He had invited the Dark Lord to a place Hermione had, lately, considered sacred and a place that, unbeknownst to Sirius, housed her family. Sirius Black had invited the Dark Lord knowing what would occur if his Master would be successful.
Sirius Black had broken more than just one condition of the bond.
Hence, Sirius Black had paid with his magic.
Hermione had only stared at him as he had started choking on his blood.
A part of her had screamed wildly for doing something like this in cold blood. But a huge part of her had known it had been the only way.
Sirius had more of his magic invested in their bond than she did, which Hermione had discovered would cost him more.
Hermione had gambled with the trust she had in her magic and it had paid off.
Voldemort had stopped.
Hermione had wondered who would have to pay the price for the failure of this Ritual – she doubted Voldemort had cast the spell himself.
She knew she had made the right call.
The Black family had more power than any other family and they would never let their heir die in vain. As much power as Voldemort promised, the Blacks of this timeline were different. Through their craziness, they were all united by blood. Seeing Sirius die would not have rested well with the Blacks.
A fact Bella had been the first one to realize.
Hmm. The witch did have a brain. How remarkable.
Even the way Walburga had seemed near grief had not been something even she could have hidden. Hermione had been amazed that even a creature like her could worry for her son. A few seconds more and she would have done something drastic.
Voldemort had known that too – considering he had stopped. He would never want the isolation of the Black family – his biggest patrons. And he had always had issues with abandonment, after all. Due to the Blacks, there were more families in his army. Sirius dying serving him would be an honor to the Blacks - but they would never consider it so if he died because of the contract. Not after all that they had done to ensure Sirius fulfilled it.
Hermione shuddered when she thought of Voldemort's reaction. He had snarled angrily – but knowing him it had been too composed. He had stormed in expecting nothing but victory.
Hermione knew it would not take Voldemort long to figure out why Sirius had almost died choking on his own blood. While the Blacks would have believed it would have something to do with the contract – Hermione had forced the situation. She had been the one responsible for Sirius being affected so much.
If nothing had threatened her life, the bond would not have woken up. The best thing about her own control of her magic allowed her to know the intricacies of bonds.
In short, Hermione had fooled her bond into thinking she had been threatened by her husband allowing the magical binding to burst forward and turn Sirius's magic against him. It had been violent because Sirius had more magic invested than she did.
Hermione got up from her bench to stroll again. She walked to where the sun's rays had lit the path up.
She mused that perhaps thwarting the original contract did have some benefit- the resulting Vow allowed her a degree of protection from the Black family. Especially Sirius. He couldn't hurt her without hurting his own magic.
She knew she would not feel the same amount of pain if she knowingly put Sirius is harm's way unless she could fool it like she had yesterday. But that was the difference between the two of them. Sirius would do nothing to her to ensure his own life but Hermione would do everything if it meant destroying Voldemort.
The Order had no doubt had a meeting right after the Ball had ended and the thought made her contemplative.
Could she dare trust Dumbledore in this timeline?
Could it be that simple?
Hermione had been proud to be an Order member in the last war but honestly, she had believed that without Dumbledore, the Order had collapsed.
But Hermione was a Pureblood in this timeline, married to Sirius Black, a known Dark Lord sympathizer.
It was fortunate enough that she had found family in the Potters.
And perhaps that was enough.
She would need them long before all of this was over.
She was kin to Potter family now, something she knew she had carried from her previous timeline. She and Harry had been only children – it was not strange for Magic to establish kin in such cases.
Hermione felt she would have drowned in the despair she couldn't help but feel after being married to Sirius. But meeting the Potter family was a reminder to her. She had always known her reasons for getting into a war that wished to destroy her whole. The main reason had been Harry. The other reasons had been an accumulation of a lot of things; her birth, the state of the Magical World, the madness, the desolation. Despite every reason that they should turn back, Hermione knew how Harry had felt and somehow she knew it had been true. As a result of a cruel joke played by fate, they had been the only ones who could have ended the war. Dumbledore, in all his wisdom, had left no one any clue about the end to Tom's immortality.
In this timeline, Hermione knew she had drawn the short end of the stick.
Like Harry, she knew that she did not have to fight a war that had resulted in loss, tears and blood. Hermione knew she did not have to, but she honestly believed that there was no one else who could do her job or rather, in twenty years' time, Harry's.
As she got up to get ready for the day, Hermione vowed to not let the same fate even touch Harry and she would keep that promise. But she was not the noble one who would welcome death if that was what fate had decided.
No.
Unlike Harry, Hermione was not a sacrificial lamb. No one knew what she knew and no one in this timeline would be able to predict how things would go. She might be a puppet, playing in the hands of fate once again. But maybe she was a puppet with no strings; she was free.
Or as free as one might be while married to the Black heir.
Which wasn't much, but Hermione was not the same teenager playing the game of war.
Hermione had always had a strong will and that meant more in this timeline. This time, Hermione would not hold back. She knew how to bend someone's will.
She knew how to break it too.
Hermione squared her shoulders as she stepped into the fireplace. Her destination was the Grimmauld Place. The fireplaces between the two houses had been connected a few days ago.
As eventful as last night had been, Hermione expected the worst today.
Sirius had escorted her and Amélie to the Rosier Estate. Hermione wondered if Sirius had planned on leaving her at the Rosier Estate or taking her with him to his home. It had been their first night as a wedded couple after all. But Hermione had been grateful to have the sanction of her home in the light of Sirius's absent-mindedness.
Hermione was not unaware of his rage; she had not seen it in all its glory yet. Sirius had all but dismissed Amélie who had argued back. Then Sirius had pulled out the 'I-wish-to-talk-to-my-wife-alone' card and Amélie had reluctantly left.
Hermione knew Amélie would seek her out later to fill her in.
Not that there was any conversation, Sirius had barely turned to look at her with anger when he had flinched and clutched his left forearm.
Hermione had known what it was so she had merely raised an eyebrow. When Sirius stood there without saying anything, Hermione had retorted-
"Aren't you going to get that?"
Sirius had scowled so fiercely at her, Hermione had briefly wondered if he would take out his wand and Crucio her. She had looked forward to it. He would have only hurt himself if he had.
Sirius had gripped his forearm tightly before he had spun on his heel to go back. He had asked her to be at Grimmauld Place precisely at 9 am the next morning.
So of course, Hermione arrived sharply at 8.
Hermione landed on her feet and gracefully stepped out of the fireplace of the drawing room. With a wave of her hand, she was clear of all soot on her person. She glanced around.
No one was there.
She decided to go into the sitting room she had first met Regulus in.
A pop made her look the other way and she found Kreacher bowing deeply.
"Mistress-" Hermione fought her cringe. "is here to see Master Sirius? Kreacher can go get him."
Hermione smiled at him. She thought back to the time when Kreacher had nothing but nasty things to say about Sirius.
"Not at the moment. I would love a cup of tea though." she replied warmly.
Kreacher bowed and Hermione could almost sense his surprise at her kindness.
"Of course Mistress. Kreacher lives to serve the noble house of Black."
He disappeared with a pop.
Hermione started to look around; making comparisons from the house she had known previously. Harry had renovated the house thoroughly and the result had been so far from the original that they had thought no Black had ever lived there.
Currently, there were no signs of the ruin the years of abandonment had inflicted on the house.
Hermione knew from her previous visits from the main door that the hallway was clear, the wallpaper still appeared new and the carpets seemed fine. Hermione was glad there was no portrait. The troll umbrella stand was also missing and she briefly found herself amused that Sirius might have had it thrown out considering how much he had hated it.
Although darkness still surrounded the place.
Hermione had wondered how the rest of the townhouse had fared. The drawing room appeared to be the same. This room had been the best place in the house. The reason being that it was the only place where there was most light because of the tall windows. It had been a favourite place of hers; she had finished various tomes while curled up on the window seat. It had also been the place near the room she had shared with Ginny before her fifth year which later Harry had given to her.
As she made her way to the staircase, not looking forward to seeing the shrunken house-elf heads, she paused and turned to look at the curtains which hid the Black Family Tapestry. Curiosity won and she used her hand to draw the curtains back.
Hermione barely controlled her flinch when she saw her own name next to Sirius's.
She ignored it and instead focussed on the rest of the names. Phineas Black still seemed to have been blasted off and Hermione had to smile at that. Marius Black, Iola Black and Cedrella Black had also shared the same fate.
She looked at Andromeda's name and frowned. It was still there. Given what Hermione knew about Andromeda's travels, she knew she had to get to the bottom of it. Hermione unfurled her magic and tested it against the tapestry's magic. She was amazed when she felt no darkness to it although a few later spells seemed to have meddled with its flow. The magic of the tapestry was to simply reveal the direct line of the Black family and to stop its purpose could have only been done by Dark spells, which Hermione had no doubt Walburga had used. She was surprised how pliable it was to her magic. She deliberated over exactly how much pliable it could be.
Alphard would not be blasted off until he gave his nephew his fortune which Hermione doubted would happen in this timeline. Hermione looked at the name she had always seen with a burn mark.
She sighed.
Sirius Black next to Hermione Dagworth-Granger was the tangible proof that things had changed in this timeline. She looked at the grim-looking faces. The tapestry-Sirius was staring straight ahead but the tapestry-Hermione was looking the other way.
How fitting.
She slowly traced the branches surrounding their names.
"Isn't it magnificent?"
Hermione turned around and faced Sirius who was standing in the middle of the drawing room looking at her with interest.
She did not reply.
Sirius looked like he had just spent all his night drinking – which she had experienced more than once with her Sirius. Azkaban had completely destroyed him and his will to live had been warped. A Sirius without anything to hold onto was a dangerous player – because he had nothing to lose.
But this Sirius perhaps had more to lose than anybody else, something which made him even more unpredictable.
He had dark circles under his eyes and his skin looked pale. His long hair brushed his shoulders. Although he was still dressed to the nines, Hermione could still notice the stiff set of his shoulders and the way he seemed to be hiding his wince. Maybe the light was hurting his eyes.
Good.
He must have spent the night recuperating although she couldn't tell just by looking at him. She looked at him carefully. She could not help herself so she intoned-
"Oh, you look well."
Sirius looked more entertained than anything.
"I was going to say the same to you." he replied, crossing the distance between them and standing a few feet from her.
Hermione thought if Sirius knew that she had the knowledge of the present company he kept. But judging by his arrogant air – probably not.
"I meant the Ball. You looked a little worse for wear. Are you well now?" Hermione asked, her eyes wide. She had no doubt he had not figured out her connection in him being unwell.
"I am. Thank you for asking." Sirius replied, after staring at her for a minute. Hermione wished to know what went on inside his head.
"Speaking of, do you realize what happened yesterday?" he asked gravely.
Hermione stayed quiet instead, letting him fill in the silence. He opened his mouth again after there was no reply forthcoming.
And, yes. Sirius definitely did not disappoint.
"How could you be stupid enough to make friends with the Potters? I am sure you are unaware of the situation in England, but Potters and most the families gathered there are Blood-traitors!"
Hermione cocked her head at him.
Finally. She was seeing past the first layer.
Although Hermione could not help but wonder at his hypocrisy considering he had been the first one to tell Tom about her so-called friends. But she knew Sirius was only acting like this because his plan had failed. Now, she was the one to blame for her choices.
"Blood traitors?" she questioned innocently.
Sirius faltered at her question. He seemed to gather himself.
"The House of Black does not associate with the Houses that have betrayed the order of the Wizarding World and declared themselves perpetrators of change. Change is intolerable – tradition is how this World is balanced and that is how the House of Black wishes it."
Hermione wished she could roll her eyes.
The House of Black only wishes to lick Tom Riddle's boots, an act not foreign to them.
"And who decides which tradition is valid?" she asked with an eyebrow raised.
"We do." Sirius answered.
He crossed his arms. Hermione smiled secretly.
"So how do you grow?" Hermione baited, thinking how stupid Sirius was if he actually believed the company line.
Sirius surveyed her with an imperturbable look. He walked a few steps closer, his fists clenched.
"Grow?" Sirius asked, his grey eyes clear.
Definitely not hungover then.
"Grow? How do you prosper? Become better?" she said slowly.
"We are already better." Sirius declared, his jaw set. A muscle started ticking near his jaw.
Hermione cleared her starry eyed expression and her gaze turned resolute.
Now it was time for him to see past her first layer.
"Then you are a fool if you truly believe that."
Sirius's eyes widened at what was her first ever truthful response to him. In a flash of his wand, he had the doors shut and sealed.
Hermione watched him patiently.
When he advanced on her, Hermione immediately stepped back. But Sirius had put his wand away. He grabbed her by the shoulders.
"You cannot say such things! Do you even know what you are talking about?!" he thundered. He shook her slightly. "You might have had free thinking in France but here, you will think as we do. Such is the duty upon you as the wife of the Black heir!"
Hermione allowed him to think he had the upper hand for a minute before she twisted out of his arms easily and shifted away.
"Your opinions are not my opinions." she told him in a calm manner. "Did you truly expect me to adhere to the vile garbage about blood purity your family spits about?"
"Be quiet!"
Hermione brushed him off with a wave of her hand.
Sirius's grey eyes were blazing with anger. Hermione looked at him in fascination.
Sirius Black – time for the first glimpse at the infamous Black rage.
"Oh you did?" she exclaimed. "Then, let me be the first to inform you then that I find Muggleborns quite remarkable and-"
With a shriek of rage, Sirius was upon her and Hermione had to calm her instincts to not fight back. He grabbed the sleeve of her arm and she felt the squeeze of Apparition.
By the instability of their landing, Hermione assumed he had not been in the right mind to do it. She could feel the crackle of his magic in the air and tightened control on her own magic. She did not wish to feel his vile magic.
Hermione shrugged his hold off and looked around the room and saw that they were in Sirius's own room.
Sirius, meanwhile, was raging.
"Enough!" he yelled. "You will never dare say what you just said to me again. You think you are smart? But you don't know anything. You are a Black and nothing more. If you wish to survive, you will learn your place in this family. Even if it is the last thing you will do!"
Hermione, meanwhile, looked disappointed by the lack of posters of half-nude girls and motorbikes. The room was drab and plain and black.
"You are the wife of the Black heir and we do not associate with filth and scum. If it were not for this bloody contract, we would not be in this position. Your association is with us and no one else. And until you can believe that, you can very well stay here."
It seemed like Sirius was just dramatic as Tom. Hermione mused as his speech got repetitive. His rage was barely contained and Hermione knew she had touched the most sensitive topic.
Her unfiltered opinions were how she got under his skin? Sweet. She really should have known better and done this before.
Hermione stared at him expressionlessly.
Although she felt she should respond and correct a lot of his assumptions, Hermione knew when silence worked better.
Sensing her lack of response as a sign of her fear, Sirius gave her a piercing look and turned around to storm out of the room. Hermione saw the door snap shut and heard Sirius mutter wards against opening the door to anyone but him.
She heard his heavy footsteps draw away from the door. After waiting five minutes, Hermione summoned her magic to test the wards and almost laughed.
Sirius might have used his Black family wards that allowed none but Blacks access, but once upon a time another Sirius had given her access to the Black library. Hermione could break these wards in her sleep.
She could not believe Sirius had fallen for her trap so easily. Hermione knew she could take things easy, but time was not a luxury she had. And she was convinced that Sirius would break. She just had to push to right buttons and await the outcome. Sirius was not unaffected by her opinions – she had learnt that today. Hermione wished to peel every layer of his façade off of him so she could judge him for who he was.
Hermione had never meant to deliberately goad him, but somehow she had known that blood purity might exactly be the topic Sirius Black would be sensitive about. At least, that was what her Sirius had always felt strongly against.
Even if Sirius Black was a Death Eater, not all blackness was irredeemable.
Bar Tom Riddle perhaps. He could just rot in the seven depths of hell for all eternity.
Hence, Hermione had to push Sirius and keep pushing him until he broke. Not only was he important as the Black heir to Tom, but if Sirius would have to fulfil that part she had to be his conscience – something he had never had before in this timeline. Sirius Black had been fed lines and lies all his life. It did not matter if he believed it.
Hermione knew how much a well-placed question could change things.
And when she had beaten his will into smithereens, she would see if Sirius could be saved.
Hmm, maybe she did have a saving people thing as well.
But Hermione was not hopeful.
And that was why her main goal of taunting Sirius with actual truths was two-fold. First, Hermione knew Sirius would be too distracted with containing her and her wild opinions to notice how much he was truly listening to her. Second, his counter arguments would only go so far before he started doubting himself.
Hermione knew a sliver of doubt was enough. That sliver had once stopped Draco Malfoy from killing Albus Dumbledore.
Hermione did not think it would be entirely possible to redeem Sirius Black but she wanted him out of the game. If his doubts were enough to render him ineffective in his service to Tom, Hermione would consider that a moral and absolute victory.
She had never really gotten along with her Sirius because he had been brash. But then, she had never been sympathetic to his plight. In hindsight, she understood why he had behaved the way he had. James and Lily's deaths had shaken him and Azkaban had merely destroyed the control he had on the Black madness. He had always been touched.
Just like the rest of the Black family was.
In this timeline, his magic felt convoluted.
Or at least it had the first and only time Hermione had come in contact with it. If Hermione was really honest with herself, the only consideration Hermione had for Sirius was because of Harry. But even Harry himself would never ask her to save this Sirius if Harry had felt his magic.
At the moment, Sirius Black was not redeemable. But Hermione would wait to make her call on that. She owed Harry that much.
Judging by his actions today, Hermione doubted Sirius would listen to her if she were to have a polite conversation with him about her opinions.
Hermione had to chortle gleefully at the idea of Sirius trying to punish her for something she had said. Most people would have thought Sirius had acted irrationally, but Hermione knew he had tried to restrain himself. Any other person and Sirius might have Crucioed them. But he had held himself back.
She had not known she would be this successful but apparently she did know how to disturb him. Sirius had revealed little but it was enough for now.
Maybe when he would eventually throw a Crucio at her, they would finally get talking.
Nonetheless, he had left her alone for now to think about her actions.
Well, let him think all his ducks are in a row. She would be long gone by the time Sirius checked up on her.
After she snooped around his room, Hermione would pop over to Dagworth-Granger Manor.
Her elves deserved a lovely treat.
As Hermione read a book in her library, she smiled in contentment.
Her elves had been quite pleased with her arrival and Hermione had been happy to note that her marriage hadn't changed the Dagworth-Granger Manor's response to her. It was still the same.
She contemplated over renaming the Manor – it would be essential to her plans later. It would be a safe house and a headquarters for her and those she wanted to protect.
The Order could do what it could.
She would focus on the pesky little case of Tom's immortality. She doubted she could just get the Sword of Gryffindor if she asked nicely and she could not visit Hogwarts to kill the Basilisk – she was not even a Parselmouth.
But a few of her leads had panned well. Apparently Basilisks weren't as rare as people believed and there was a thriving black market in South Africa for Basilisk parts. Hermione expected a shipment soon. Her grandfather's society had proved to be a miracle and provided her a list of suppliers – both legal and illegal.
But Hermione was weary. She did not want to kill the horcruxes one by one. They had destroyed the horcruxes in the late 90's, which had been more than enough time for the souls to separate entirely.
Even if they had been separated from Tom's soul for a while, Hermione conjectured that a loss of one might leave an echo for the original soul. She could not risk that.
Hence, she would rather destroy them all at once. She was currently looking into Rituals that allowed even the foulest of magic to be destroyed.
Hermione had been in the Manor for a couple of hours now. She thought she should head back to Grimmauld Place soon but she had to visit the Potters first and explain-
She felt her magical aura darken and she jolted in shock. Turning around, she could place nothing out of the ordinary. She closed her books and Apparated to her room. She paced.
The dark aura pulsed threateningly. And it was similar.
It felt like it was coming from her Magical Core.
She faltered.
Hermione did some rough calculations and realized that in her original timeline, at this age, she had just come into contact with the locket.
The fucking horcrux.
She could already feel its effect but it was not that pronounced. That was probably because her Core was whole here.
She wondered how strong the magic of a horcrux was if it had echoed through another timeline, its pain dull as a ghost but still present.
Hermione thought hard.
Anything that had an impact on her magic was being replicated here. It had been the same thing with the scar from Dolohov.
That was perhaps something she could not change. Her magical body had after all become mature at a later age - 21. And that was when her Core would hopefully stabilize in this timeline too. Until then, it would fill in the changes that had happened previously.
Hermione thought back to those cold nights in the tent. She missed her boys.
She stopped pacing when she realized something.
The effect of the horcrux would last a while and soon the incident in Malfoy Manor would occur. She would get Crucioed and she did not know if that would have an impact on her Core.
She would also get her Mudblood scar again. But she could cover that up with spells until she could use it.
And she had to do that at the right time.
Hermione arrived near the Potter Manor's front door. She was surprised the wards had still let her in after yesterday's events but she remembered the Potter Magic was very fond of her.
She felt the warmth of the magic and grinned freely.
She raised her wand to send a Patronus when a voice interrupted her-
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."
Hermione spun around and faced Lily Evans. The mother of the brilliant, brilliant man she knew once.
Lily was grinning at her, standing near the edge of the gardens. She walked closer. Hermione raised her eyebrow in question – not trusting herself to speak.
"There is a uh- meeting going on, a bit private. It's regarding yesterday's events. I would say you were the main topic of discussion." Lily explained apologetically.
Order meeting wa still going on?
Hermione shook her head at her.
"And why aren't you a part of this meeting?" she asked.
Lily smiled wider.
"I was thrown out."
Hermione looked at her incredulously.
Lily Evans? Head Girl? Thrown Out?
"How did you manage that?" Hermione questioned in amazement.
Lily only beamed widely.
"Let's just say the people heading the meeting and I had a few differing opinions."
Hermione nodded slowly and looked around Lily as if expecting James too.
"He's not here." Lily laughed. "But you presume correctly – he might be here but I made him promise to behave himself."
"How did you manage to do that?" Hermione asked amused.
"Oh, with the right inducement, I can get James to do anything." Lily replied with a smirk.
Hermione started laughing and soon Lily joined her.
"We were not introduced yesterday. I am Lily Evans, girlfriend to the prat who goes by the name of James Potter." Lily stated, extending her hand.
Hermione returned her smile.
"Hermione Dagworth-Granger. Pleased to meet you." Hermione responded, shaking Lily's hand.
Before Hermione could even blink, a wild magic burst out from her Core to where her hand met Lily's. Hermione and Lily whipped their heads upwards to stare at one another as the Magic grew stronger and warm tingles ran up and down their arms. Her amulet grew warm.
Their magic was greeting each other in joy. Like it had been separated for an eternity and was happy at being reunited.
Hermione had never felt anything that intense.
Magic rushed through her Core and her mind tried to make sense of it but Hermione knew she did not need words for this.
This magic felt deep, warm and special – it was Lily's.
As previously it had once been Harry's.
Hermione felt her heart thud. She looked at Lily and if she just focused on her green eyes, Hermione could almost believe it was Harry.
Hermione had always thought Harry had the Potter magic through and through.
But she had been wrong.
While she had recognized Harry's similar magic in the Potters, Harry's magic was also Lily's. In fact, Lily's magic felt more familiar to Harry's than anyone else's and she briefly wondered if it was because of the sacrifice Lily had made to protect her son.
Something that had also been Hermione's last act for Harry in her timeline.
It felt like coming full circle but Hermione could not understand why yet.
The magic slowly dimmed and Lily was looking at her with wide eyes. Both of them were winded by the intensity of what had just happened.
Not to mention overwhelmed.
Hermione cleared her throat.
"Perhaps we should uh – get out of the way? I doubt my presence would be welcome here if anyone saw me."
Lily nodded and quietly led Hermione towards the path to the gardens.
They walked for while in silence and soon, stood near a branch of trees and stared at one another.
How could Hermione possibly explain this?
To her knowledge no one else her reacted to her Magic like this. She was used to being the one who could judge someone's aura or Magical signature but she could tell Lily had felt the bond.
Of all the things to happen, this had to be the most-
"I can feel your magic." Lily blurted out, she was twisting her hands nervously.
Hermione gaped at her.
"What?" she asked ineloquently.
Lily took a huge breath. She ran her fingers through her hair. She breathed out.
"I can feel that you are my kin but it's…more. I have a family – a sister, but my bond with them is nothing like what I just felt."
Hermione decided to come clean.
"That is because you are feeling a Magical Kin bond, it's different. Family is usually bound by blood." Hermione explained. "A Magical Kin is based entirely on magic or rather how your magic responds to another's."
Lily was listening to her intently.
"A-and you have always felt this?" she asked tentatively.
"Yes." Hermione nodded. "That is how I have always known who I can trust."
Lily seemed fascinated. She opened her mouth to ask something when-
"LILY!"
Hermione had no doubt it was James.
Lily rolled her eyes.
"That tosser still hasn't learnt to use the Patronus." Lily muttered. She shifted on her feet. "I think they are done with the meeting. You should come in."
Hermione had intended to do exactly that but this bond with Lily had given her a few things to think about.
Damn.
She had forgotten how her magic would treat Potter Magic as family and how that extended to Lily as well. Their bond had been seamless.
That's exactly how it had always been with Harry.
Harry, it seemed, was the tether to everything she and her magic was.
Only Harry would somehow defy every explanation and help her.
Even if he had not been born yet.
Of course, Lily would register the same effect.
Hermione knew what this new magical bond meant – it was the promise of a partner in crime, of a friend, of a companion, of family.
She straightened.
"I think I should be heading back. Will you inform them I dropped by? I will probably make another visit next week – when the situation here has calmed down a bit."
Lily seemed almost reluctant but she nodded.
"LILY!"
Hermione laughed out loud and Lily tossed her red hair over shoulder, glaring in the direction the shout was coming from.
"You should go find him before he becomes a banshee – it won't be pretty." Hermione said with an amused smile.
"Go find him." Hermione repeated when Lily stood still. She jerked her towards the entrance of the gardens. She took out her wand to Apparate. "I will visit soon. Give him a kick for me, yeah?"
Lily let out a strangled laugh. She nodded.
"Find me when you do. We need to have a proper conversation without being interrupted by idiots. Good bye!"
Lily watched Hermione disappear silently before she marched off in the direction of the said idiot, her mind running with all the possibilities of her discovery.
The room was dark and dingy.
A corpse was being dragged off – a discoloured, disfigured mess.
The smell of rotten flesh permeated the air but the gathered did not dare twitch lest they anger their lord. They formed a tight circle – kneeling on the dirty, uneven ground.
There was a figure at the edge of the room. A dais upon which a cathedra rested. It was a perhaps the most polished thing in the room – the only thing at a certain height. Seated upon the cathedra was a man robed in black silk robes, his menacing eyes on his subjects.
He opened his mouth and lifted his hand.
"Come forward." he commanded.
Immediately, a finely dressed figure rose up, his hood disguising his features. The circle parted to let him through before immediately tightening again.
The figure kneeled on the ground, his face bowed.
"My Lord."
The man looked at the figure with disinterest before scratching the wood with his long nails.
The wood screeched.
No one moved.
How perfectly trained his slaves were? He thought. How perfectly boring.
His eyes focused on the kneeling figure.
Perhaps not this one.
"I thought how clever your little wife was, giving me something none of your useless idiots could. Access to most of the Purebloods who so far have been reluctant to join me. But I suppose even she wasn't clever enough to know that the family wards would prevent me from doing any harm to Potter and his guests. The curses of Old Magic."
He paused. The figure kneeling stayed immobile.
He smiled, secretly pleased.
"This contract is a pesky little thing. Don't you think so?"
The figure made no move to answer.
"Oh. You haven't figured it out yet? Allow me. Your wife felt threatened and since you are the one who informed Bella of the Ball, the contract started to take your life. You knowingly put your wife's life in danger – at least it had seemed that way to her and the contract. So it is binding. How curious."
"Now I had a plan, you see. When you informed me of your marriage to her, I thought we could use her connections. It would have been simple, even if she's French. For everything she had done wrong, I would have Crucioed you. If she had said no, she would have been made to say yes. If she had resisted, a little torture would have loosened her tongue. It would have been a test for the real thing. It had been a perfect arrangement. Except now it is not because of that Contract and Vow. It won't allow you to hurt her or to put her in any circumstances where she might get hurt. Shame I have use of you or I would have disposed you to get her."
The kneeling figure twitched – but barely.
The man smiled slyly.
Fascinating.
The man eyed the figure intensely, his eyes gleaming red.
"Hermione Dagworth-Granger. I want her property and her gold. But mostly, I want her. She is too clever. Work out a way for that contract to not nullify her becoming… one of us. But remember, if she does anything she is not supposed to, I would say a little Avada will do the job. I might have need of you now, but I do not have need for your constant failures and that would be a pity. I would have to start all over again with your brother. Pity, pity."
The man stopped to let the crushing implication linger for a while. The red eyes carefully surveyed the figure and the circle beyond him.
His voice hissed in a chilly tone-
"I want your little wife, Sirius. And it will be a way for you to make up to me. Make it happen."
Then silence reigned.
A/N
I never expected such a response. Thank you so much for the reviews! They are quite heart-warming and make my day. Thank you for the love.