Chapter 11

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The Past is Closer Than You'd Think

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Sometime in the 1930's

Hector Emery Pendragon Granger Dagworth was in his potions lab pondering, once again, on how odd it was that potions could produce almost any genuine emotion other than love.

He was staring at the opalescent potion known as amortentia, when a flash of light deposited a cylindrical object directly in front of him. Carefully, he grabbed it, intending to study it further, when the idea struck for his next potion.

Forget love! He absolutely had to make a potion that could reverse unintended permanent transfigurations. Maybe something that could revert the drinker to their original form, no matter the cause. That could have so many uses; spell damage, lycanthropy, vampirism, malnourishment or disease, even those stuck in their animangus form! The possibilities were endless.

Of course unicorn blood could accomplish most of these things, but that was generally frowned upon. Maybe he would name it something like that though, as a nod to progress from dark times. Yes, yes, he would call this new potion Pegasus Tears.

Like the healing tears of the Phoenix, the majestic winged birds, and the blood of the unicorn, the horned equines, throw in a dash of Arthurian legend and it was perfect!

He was getting ahead of himself though. First, he realized, he would need a stack of parchment, and something to write with. He had some parameters to write down, and a list of ingredients to compile. First of which would be actual Phoenix tears, as it was a good place to start.

For hours he paced, and he pondered. Then for days he measured, stirred and observed. Finally, he was nearing the time to test, when he realized he had forgotten one thing. Test subjects!

He would owl Mungos right away! After that, there was nothing to do but wait. Or was there? Unthinkingly, he opened the cap of the cylinder, and popped one of its contents into his mouth.

At that point he decided he had far too many names, and simply had to drop two of them. Yes, Hector Dagworth-Granger was less of a mouth full. He vaguely wondered where the thought had come from, but brushed it aside as un-important.

"Maybe my son would think he had too many names too. I should suggest he be just— a Granger. For simplicity's sake." He spoke aloud, although no one was there to hear him. As soon as the words were uttered, the cylinder disappeared from his hands.

The old potioneer, however, had seen stranger things in his life, so he just shrugged and went back to his potion. While he waited for the reply from St. Mungo's, he would try to make a few variations of the Pegasus Tears potion. Easier to brew, and for more specific applications.

Like... petrification, and other such maladies. Yes, he had some mandrakes that may make a good modification. He would call it the Mandrake Restorative Potion. And he got to work again.

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Back at Grimmauld Place, Harry and Hermione sat sipping a cup of tea.

"I don't get it." Harry murmured, "How can we affect the past from the present? Or, I don't know, is everything already done and we just have to... play a cosmic game of catch up?"

Hermione chuckled, "Careful Harry, you're starting to make too much sense!" Sighing, she tried to think of an explanation. "You're pretty close, actually. Remember when we used the time turner and saved Buckbeak?" He nodded affirmatively.

"So, before we'd even spun the ring on the hourglass, your patronus had shown itself. All the events leading us to go back in time had already occurred in our timeline, and had already influenced it. You influenced the timeline, before you even had any idea it was possible to go back in time. And we had no idea we had even done so, until we went back and figured out that it was us all along so we just... followed our own lead." Hermione smiled, "You know, you're the one, all those years ago, that got me doubting the existence of time loops and alternate realities?"

Harry laughed outright at that, "I do now. Add another chalk line to my tally of how many times I changed the world while being oblivious."

"I've lost count, frankly," she admitted, mindlessly twirling a spoon around inside the cup. Suddenly she groaned, "I forgot I have to go pick a new room. Regulus has been nice about it, but it was his first."

As she stood from her perch on the chair, she remembered a thought from weeks ago, "You know, I had decided to redo the decor in there, but kept finding other things to do instead. Pity, really, he surely would have loved to come back to a Gryffindor themed room!"

"There's still time!" Harry laughed while coughing, having nearly choked on his last sip of tea, before standing to help her.

She pictured the Slytherin's reaction to such an action, and described it out loud on their way up the stairs, "Oh hey Regulus, you can have your room back now, thank you so much for your hospitality. He walks to the door, ready to be back in the familiarity of his own space, and promptly passes out at the burgundy and gold assaulting his senses, before even noticing the cozy arm chairs that replaced the floor cushions in the reading nook. What a pity!"

"What's a pity?" The topic of their discussion asked, walking around the corner in front of them.

"Uh," Hermione stutters, mumbling something about his room, and blushing heavily at being caught. At the same time, Harry opened his mouth and said, "Hermione got cozy chairs for your reading nook!"

Regulus was regarding them like they'd suddenly grown to be two heads on one body. "You know, Hermione, you don't have to move out." He leant in and whispered in her ear, twirling a strand of her hair around his fingers. "We could always share."

She squeaked in response, before turning and fleeing to the safety of her room. His room. Whatever, he wasn't getting it right now! The sound of the two boys laughing followed her all the way.

After they heard the door click shut, Harry turned to the other man and his laughter suddenly stopped. "That was good, but well, I'm sorry for your room." He consoled the other man.

Regulus shrugged, "It's just armchairs." At the look on Harry's face he quickly added, "What?!"

Harry was laughing again. "Nothing Reg. Just... hope you like red. She was kidding at first, then I jokingly suggested she do it but... she might just do it, now that you— Reg?" The former Slytherin had taken off, quickly, in the direction of his room. "Regulus!" Harry hollered after him.

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Harry was right, it turned out. Hermione did suddenly find the idea very appealing. Gone was the plain, dark bed. Replaced with an ornate, gilded gold four-poster bed. Blood red brocade covered its surface, as well as mountains of ornate throw pillows.

She had just charmed the walls in a delicate cream, French paneled style, complete with gilded gold accents, when the banging started. Smirking to herself, she continued, pretending not to hear Regulus frantically calling her name.

She charmed the flooring to an aged walnut color, and summoned some antique Persian rugs she had noticed in a storage room the other day.

The ceiling, she decided, would look better charmed to show the night sky, so she made it happen, quickly.

White and gold, damask curtains replaced the heavy ones previously covering the widows. Gold hooks appeared for holding the tie backs, which were now blood red cords.

The final touch, she thought maliciously would be his reading nook. All the shelves turned cream, to match the walls, under her precise wand work. The cushions were last, and she did indeed turn them into cozy, yet stylish, red wingback chairs.

The pounding continued, she noticed, and with a final glance at her handiwork, she threw herself onto the bed, before wandlessly opening the door. "Oh, Regulus! What are you doing out there?!" She asked innocently. Gesturing next to her she asked, "Still fancy sharing?"

He appeared to be gobsmacked.

After a while, waiting for a response that never came, she decided to poke the beast and levitated him into the room, laying him down gracelessly onto the bed. "You'll catch flies with your mouth open like that, you know."

He stared at her. Still unspeaking, until another voice sounded from the hallway. "Nice color choices! Much better." Sirius called in passing.

"I agree." The younger black sibling said softly. "Well, it is much better. Your style is impeccable... your color choices, however," he continued, waving his hand through the air, "hmm... yes much better. Now we can share!" He declared, laying his head on her shoulder.

It was then she realized that he had changed all the red in the room to emerald green with that innocent wave of his hand.

"Not bad." She complimented. She actually liked the color combination. "But I'm the little spoon."

She knew she was pushing her luck, but she wanted to get him back for catching her off guard.

"As you wish—Mistress." He chuckled, winking at her as he pushed himself up and flipped her over at the same time. He then pulled her against his chest and slung an arm over her as if it were a perfectly ordinary occurrence. Merlin help her, her plan was backfiring spectacularly!

So, she said the only thing she could think of with her head going all fuzzy between the ears. "I'm a mudblood you know."

He chuckled again. He really needed to stop doing that, she decided. It was worse than his saccharine voice. Worse yet when his hand started idly stroking her arm. "Sure you are, dear, the Muggleborn girl from the houses of Granger and Emerys. Totally plausible. Maybe a halfblood. Not that it matters anyways.

Sirius made many good points for many years, he left his family over it...and I lived among pure blood fanatics for just as long. I'm not blind, as much as I wish I could be sometimes. I see the good and the bad of both sides, truly. I just... I'm neutral. I'm not a muggle lover like your friends dad, but I'm not a blood fanatic like my mother either."

She had to get out of this room! Suddenly inspiration struck. "Wanna go tell her portrait that? She'd love it. She'll be singing your praises for days... ha!"

Before she knew what was happening she was curled up in a ball trying to get away from the sensation. He was tickling her, relentlessly! She screamed, laughing so hard tears streamed down her face. "S-s-stop! Regulus! Stop it right now!"

"But Mistress, I love it when you scream my name!" He laughed.

"Ughhh! Mercy, mercy, please just stop it!" She begged, still laughing.

Footsteps pounded down the hallway, and Regulus quickly acted like he did nothing, knew nothing, saw nothing. In a blur, Harry entered the room, panting. "I heard yelling... what's going on?" He asked, hands on his knees.

"Nooothing?" Regulus answered, his smirk giving away his guilt, "Say, Harry, did you know Hermione is ticklish?"

"Yes, very." He breathed in relief, sitting on the edge of the bed, "sounded like she was dying and you were to be the one to blame." Harry took a moment to look around, eyebrows raising minutely as he took in the change in the room. "Nice decor."

"Team effort," The younger Black shrugged, "We're 'sharing' apparently?"

Hermione was being awfully quiet and both boys were finding it immensely amusing. It wasn't often she didn't have a comment.

"I always loved slumber parties." Harry deadpanned, collapsing next to her. "Oh! Looks like I get to be the little spoon!"

Somehow Harry's presence calmed her enough that she found her voice once again, and the zoo animal sized butterflies that had begun to parade around inside her stomach began to settle. "Goody! I've never been in the middle before."

Regulus gasped. "Wait. You two? In here?" He was suddenly feeling out of his depth. This was supposed to be his safe area!

"Oh, yes," Hermione confirmed. "Harry and I sleep together all the time!" Harry, who at that moment was struggling very hard not to laugh.

"In here!" Regulus squeaked, in a strangled voice, gesturing to his bed.

Sirius picked that moment to barge in as well, "All three of you now?" He shook his head. "And you didn't invite me? Frankly, I'm hurt. First the prank, from my own brother and the hellcat over there— Yes, you've graduated from Kitten, I'm so proud. — now this!"

"It's a sleepover," Harry supplied helpfully, wiggling his eyebrows in a mock suggestive manner.

That was all the invitation Sirius Black ever needed. "I'm in!" He declared, making a running leap that none of them had time to avoid, coming to land right on top of all of them, while yelling, "Doggy pile!"

The strange flirting competition that no one was ever going to win, over, at least momentarily, they all dissolved into giggles. Especially as Regulus was still trying to get a straight answer as to if anything sexual had happened on his bed during his absence, while refusing to use words that were specific enough to warrant one.

Finally, when Sirius had swaggered out of the room, declaring he was going on a date with some firewhisky, he took pity on his little brother. "They're just friends, for Merlin's sake!" He yelled over his shoulder. And the giggles began again.

Deciding to join his godfather later, Harry got up, pulling Hermione with him, and, after summoning her things, made for the door. "I've got to find a new room too, and I think I know just the answer for the both of us"

"But—" Regulus pouted jokingly. "I thought we were having a sleepover?"

Hermione smiled lazily at him, then reached back to ruffle his hair in the way that both Black brothers abhorred, "In your dreams Reg." With a wink, she let Harry pull her from the room.

"Thank you for saving me!" Hermione huffed. "He... ugh! He's just like Sirius, only not as in your face about it. Unflappable and flirty. I got in over my head, but you know how stubborn I am. I wanted to win." She frowned, pouting.

He laughed, "I think you were enjoying yourself, but you're too stubborn to admit it. Either way, you know I have a hero complex. Saving people is kind of my thing." Harry led her around a corner, past the stairs and the library, and after he had passed the last doorway, kept walking.

"Uh, Harry, you know you're walking us straight at a wall right?" She asked, nervously.

"Yep." He answered, still walking. She tried to slow them down, but he sped up. The second they were about to collide she tensed for the impact. "It's not really a wall, Hermione." He said, just as she squeezed her eyes shut.

When she opened her eyes again, the wall was behind her. "Mean!" She accused, blinking rapidly, while her brain struggled to comprehend what her eyes were seeing. "You never did show me these discoveries you made. Or even bother to tell me about them. Well, other than that you found some, somethings."

"Somewheres," he corrected, "I intend to have 'you know who' take down the illusions at some point, I've already had Bill check for any... unpleasant surprises. Surprisingly, there were none. It's like the more recent generations, the nasty ones at least, didn't know or care that these places existed."

"Voldemort?" She questioned teasingly.

He nodded emphatically, "Yes, I'm going to have Voldemort come take down illusions from the great beyond. Then, we will have a tea party... No! —You know who I'm talking about, I don't want him just popping up, it's creepy!"

"I do so love our talks!" She giggled as he led her further into the unknown.

He showed her a bathroom first, one of two like it in the house, with the fancy, pool like tubs and all the scented soapy nozzles. Jokingly, he declared it to be her room, before leading her to the series of what he had guessed to be guest rooms, and letting her pick one.

Seeing as they were all fairly similar, in the way they were dripping with oppressive opulence, Hermione simply picked the one closest to the bathroom. Decision made, she waved her wand and deposited her things into their new accommodations, before repeating the same charms as she had in Regulus' room, to lighten the space up.

However, this time she settled on a Sapphire blue color for the accent, instead of a Gryffindor theme, and instead of a gilded bed and gold hardware, she stuck with black. She wanted her space to be relaxing, and crisp, not in your face.

Harry had gone off to ready his own room, the one directly next to hers, so she took the opportunity to get one final act of vengeance against the man who would not bow to her wishes. He would learn.

"Kreacher." She called. The elf appeared within seconds, as usual. She didn't even let him speak, before she began talking, "Master Regulus misses his dear mother, very much," she said sadly, "is there a way you could move her portrait to his room? He would love it if she could be an entrance to his reading nook, like the portraits into the common rooms in Hogwarts."

The elf was only too happy to agree. "Mistress Black would enjoy that placement! Movesing the charm to another wall woulds be very easy for an elf like Kreacher, it be's canceling the charm that's hard. Permanent things don't likes to stop being permanent, theys be fighting back. Sticks to everything!" Kreacher lamented.

"That is wonderful Kreacher, thank you! He will love it, I'm sure!" Hermione gushed, causing the elf to blush before popping away excitedly.

Mission accomplished! Therefore, it was a positively gleeful Hermione that waltzed into Harry's room moments later. She didn't say a word about her little surprise.

"Need help?" She offered instead, noting that he was struggling to open the heavy drapes to bring some actual light into the room.

"Please?" He returned. She thought back to what she had noticed about her friend over the years, deciding on a plan before getting to work. He liked simple things, for one. He loved being outside. Flying, that too. She was about to give him the first ever room that was truly his, made just for him, so she took her time.

Whiskey colored floors came first, before the cream colored walls. She charmed beams, appearing to be made from living trees, across the ceiling, lacing vines across them to form a sort of canopy throughout the room, while making sure that the ceiling— charmed like hers to show the night sky— was still at least partially visible.

The bed frame, she decided, should be a fourposter like he had in the dormitory, only also made of beams like those on the ceiling, the headboard was interwoven with wrought iron in an intricate leaf and vine like pattern. She then clothed the bed in a soft sage green, with throw pillows the colors of leaves in their full autumn glory.

The shelves in the room she charmed to match the whiskey color of the floor, and the heavy curtains disappeared, being replaced by a lighter, almost fluid fabric in the same green as his comforter, but with a design stitched in the same intricate leaf and vine pattern from the headboard, that was in the corresponding autumn colors from the pillows.

She draped the floor and bed in light colored, fur rugs, also summoned from the storage room, before transfiguring a large walk in fireplace on the wall opposite the bed, which she crafted from large, stacked field-stones, and completed it with a natural wood plank in the same whiskey color as the floor and shelves. Upon the mantle, she placed Harry's broom, the golden snitch- which was carefully frozen in place-, and various pictures he had collected over the years.

Looking around, she felt satisfied with what she saw. Especially when she turned and saw the look on her best friends face. "It's perfect," He whispered, "thank you Hermione."

She nodded, and declared, "It's your first real room Harry, all to yourself. It had to be just perfect for you. It's the least I could do for you after all you've done for me over the years." Before adding, "To give your new start the perfect start. Prank wars excluded."

Harry laughed, "Nah, the prank wars keep things interesting. It really makes it feel like home, you know, after being around the twins so much and all. I've come to expect nothing less from life, and throughly enjoy it." She almost spilled the beans about her most recent stunt, right then and there. But it was almost supper time, so she was sure it would be mentioned. Loudly, at that.

Before heading to the kitchen, Harry showed her the ballroom, with its dining hall, and parlors. She agreed that the dining hall reminded her of Hogwarts, without the floating candles, of course. And, in a display of her magical ability, she sought to remedy that disappointing fact.

Once the ceiling was charmed to mirror the sky outside, she added the candles, having summoned them from somewhere in the house. She charmed them to glow and twinkle as if they were lit when the room got to be a certain degree of darkness. The real fire part had always scared her at Hogwarts, and she had no desire to help herself to an early grave at home.

As they walked to dinner, she charmed all the floors and walls in their hallway, to whiskey and cream, respectively. And banished each and every horrid drapery, leaving only the plain, black silk liners. Which, once free from the heavy swags and layers, looked very nice with the tall ceilings, framing the large windows in a complimentary manner.

It was, therefore, a much lighter feeling Hermione that sat at the dinner table, a smile playing on her lips and a long forgotten lightness in her chest.

She had been stripped of all baggage, much like parts of the house in which she now resided. It was glorious! Almost as good, she thought, as the look on Regulus' face when he finally graced them with his presence.

He sat there in silence, violently stabbing the peas on his plate, like each and every one of them had personally offended him. At least, until Sirius strolled in, a glass of firewhisky in hand, humming the tune to what sounded suspiciously like "ding dong the witch is dead".

"As I was on my way into this lovely little gathering, I hazarded upon a joyous surprise!" He announced, "The entryway is suddenly, finally, amazingly— Sorry— free of that blasted portrait! Her presence no longer haunts my waking nightmares! I don't know where she went, or why, but good riddance to bad portraits, I say!"

Regulus' fork clattered to the plate, and his head dropped into his arms. "She's in my room!" He muttered, horrified. It was muffled, from the current location of his head, but clearly distinguishable. "That elf—" he lamented, as the elf in question popped into the room to catch the tail end of the sentence, "put her there!"

"Master Regulus, I know you's misses your mother so! No needs to cry!" He wrung his hands nervously, "Kreacher can moves the portrait to above your bed? So she's closer to you, if you's like that better?"

Regulus looked stricken. "No!" his sudden exclamation drew a crestfallen look from the previously consoling elf, and he quickly backpedalled, "I, Uh— ahem, I mean— No, Kreacher, she's fine where she's at, thank you." The elf nodded and popped away once more. "Merlin, Help me!"

Everyone in the room dissolved into laughter, except one male, who need not be named, whose head once again came to land heavily in his arms. "Why?!!!" He yelled, to no one in particular.

"In other news." Hermione changed the subject. "Any thoughts on the 6th prophecy and what it might entail? Or, the fact that we were supposed to receive keys to a vault that turned into a castle, yet we never even saw a single key?"

She started when she heard a sudden, if muffled, intake of breath. Regulus raised his head quickly, staring at his left hand.

"I'm not sure about the prophecy, and what it entails," he said slowly, "but I'm sure I didn't have a tattoo at the inside base of my left ring finger this morning. It just happens to appear to be a key."

One by one, they checked their own hands, and sure enough they all had the same mark. If she was a betting woman, Hermione thought, she would bet that the Weasley twins had them also. The question was how to use them, and what exactly they were to be used for.

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