Thanks so much for the wonderful reviews you guys! I was thrilled to read every one of them. Sorry for taking so long to reply to them things have been really hectic both professionally and personally so please forgive me.
Massive thanks to MeiaAdey12, uhohspaghettiooos, JuliaLestrange, kaddiekat, HGranger89, slythrclw-shdwhntr-46, alice101angel, ANGSWIN, thewinnowingwind, kat11c, Nova5621, helikesitheymikey, Zadria Cerulean, Blue-10-Spades, FoxesRun, Shola2001, brookie88, mattsmom, Akela2Bears, ante-diem, Laysa L'espoir, RedKitsune2016, rayn, Smithback, EuphemiaJames, Katie Moon, amelianott, rabradley09, xXMizz Alec VolturiXx, Ecwb and guests! Thanks so much.
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
-Edgar Allen Poe
Chapter 14
Hermione meandered up the rocky shortcut from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts that Fred and George had begrudgingly taught her in her third year. Her plimsole school shoes guaranteed she felt every large stone or tree root that interrupted her path. She sighed as the cold night air taunted her irritated cheeks, which were red and blotchy from when she had used her rough school jumper to dry her tears. The half moon illuminated the sky dimly, still the darkness of the forest path did little to frighten her. It seemed the trials of the day had driven her past the primitive emotion of fear and straight towards emptiness. She doubted Voldemort himself would jostle her hollow composure in that moment. Her heavy breathing blended with the howls of the beasts that resided in the forest on either side of her until she could barely hear her pants of exhaustion as she hiked the steep incline.
"This is no path for a mortal child," a masculine voice summoned her from her musings. She didn't even flinch at the sudden intrusion, but none the less her wand was automatically in her hand and pointed to her right, into the dense foliage that obscured any light.
"Are you brave enough to face me?" Hermione called, trying her best to project a strong and confident voice. Her eyes shone fiercely in the moonlight as she lowered her body into a defensive position, daring whatever beast hovered in front of her to just try and make her day worse. Her hand for once held her wand steadily. She watched as the trees seemed to part to allow her opponent to approach her.
"But you are no child, are you?" He posed. Hermione's breath caught as she took in the majestic sight that befell her. As a child she had read the multitudes of fairy-tales that her parents had bought her, quickly dismissing them for fact and logic. Yet, the images of the centaurs she had seen had resided in her memories long after she had closed those books. Even as she stood on the dirt path in her filthy uniform and with tangled messy hair a feeling of reverence settled on her shoulders heavily.
"No," she breathed a response, too stunned to articulate further. The creature stalked closer until Hermione had to strain her head to meet his otherworldly dark brown eyes. The exquisitely carve bow that was strapped to his chest seemed to her almost an extension of the familiar beast.
"This is not the first time we have met," he stated plainly. One of his anterior hooves stamped the ground in front of him yet his expression remained unreadable. Hermione lowered her wand, knowing that she would never retaliate even if a fight was to begin. A foulness settled in her heart even at the thought. There was little outside of fact that Hermione ever put any stock into, divination being a primary example, but she had always respected Firenze. Looking into his eyes she could admit that there were things that she would never understand out there. After all, magic had been a daft notion before Professor McGonagall had knocked on her door.
"No," she repeated honestly, seeing little point in arguing. He lifted one of his colossal hands and pointed towards the sky above them before lifting his gaze towards the heavens.
"The stars are all a flutter," Firenze murmured darkly. "Twisting and turning, unsure of their placements," he continued with a twist of his lips that Hermione couldn't discern as a smile or a grimace. "It is quite the sight," he finished lowering his head once more.
"I wouldn't know," Hermione muttered back, not even raising her head to attempt to see what the centaur could. To her the stars would always be giant balls of burning gas miles and miles away and nothing more.
"No, you would not. You carve a path and think little of that which has already been preordained," he responded evenly, his dark voice reverberating through the empty night.
"I hold little faith in prophesying," she replied, not fully able to hide her bitterness. There was no mistaking the small smile that flickered across Firenze's face then.
"From my understanding of mortals, can it not be said that one so entrenched in what they deny is fighting lucidity?" Firenze murmured as he shifted his bow to rest on his back instead of his chest, a passive gesture.
"I was never entrenched in prophecy," Hermione responded shortly. While it was true she had witnessed the horrors of what self-fulfilling divination could do, she could honestly say that she had not been directly involved. What they had found that day in the Department of Mysteries was completely between Harry and Tom. She had no place in that dynamic, even if she had a firm place in the war.
"Even now, as you bend the stars to your will, you are still destined," Firenze answered simply. Once more he lifted his gaze towards the sky, his expression verging on curious. "What do they call you?" He questioned.
"Hermione," she answered, something stopping her from lying to the stately beast.
"I have never seen the stars rewritten Hermione, your actions are bold," he muttered. Slowly he extended his hand out in her direction. His hand was larger than her entire face, but she didn't flinch away, something kept her steady as she peered into his knowing eyes. Gently he tilted her chin upwards to examine her fully. "But you grow tired," he muttered mournfully. Hermione shrugged hating that tears were once again brimming in her eyes. His hands firm position under her chin prevented her from ducking her head and hiding her emotions. She had just lost her father that day and the paternal attitude he was exuding was rubbing salt in the open wounds of grief that crisscrossed her heart.
"Who wouldn't grow tired of this world?" She intoned darkly. His brown eyes softened at her defeated words.
"It is easy to grow weary when you carry the weight of the world," he answered, almost soothingly. "I see depth in your eyes, can you not see that some things are out of your control?" He asked, using his thumb to brush a salty tear from her cheek. The gentle action seemed quite counterintuitive to Hermione for such a large being, especially as she had seen up-close just how fierce centaurs could be. There was a reason Umbridge was terrified of them after all.
"I have been blessed with free will, and with it comes accountability," she answered bluntly, not moving from her position.
"Ah," Firenze muttered knowingly. "You believe fate to be the words of a weak man used to account for his failures," he said, a real smile growing on his face. "If there is one thing you can learn from the stars it is that there is a time to admit that no matter how hard you try some things will always end in the same way," he spoke with an edge of finality in his voice, as if this was an order instead of a statement. He tilted her head further until she was staring at the stars. It had been years since she had studied the night sky with anything more than just a fleeting glance.
"I am lost," she muttered more to herself.
"We are all lost Hermione, waiting for this life to guide us towards our purpose," Firenze explained. "But you must remember that sometimes that direction may be one you never expected to take, and that is not your fault," he finished. Hermione nodded silently, finally finding the strength to take a step back out of his grasp.
"I should get to the castle," she muttered, more than ready for the unsettling conversation to come to an end. Firenze nodded but lifted his hand in a halting gesture.
"You should know that Mars glows especially bright tonight, it is not only you that walks this strange path," he revealed in a serious tone. Somehow Hermione knew that relaying that snippet of information was the real reason Firenze had appeared to her, and at great personal risk too. She was not naïve enough to think that the other centaurs would be happy at his divulgence of divination to a mortal such as herself.
"I am aware that someone came with me," Hermione attempted to appease, thoughts of Severus flying through her tumultuous mind.
"I was not referring to your charge," Firenze answered, startling her. Charge? She thought perplexedly. He stepped away from her before bowing his head in a way not too dissimilar to a Georgian gentleman. "This is goodbye Hermione. I will watch the stars you shape with keen interest, though I doubt we shall ever meet again," he bid in a resigned tone. With one last piercing gaze he turned and galloped powerfully back into the treeline, leaving more than enough food for thought in his wake.
…
Finally, Hermione reached the giant Oak door that led to the Great Hall. She heaved a massive sigh of relief, while the castle may not be the same as the one she had once called home it still lightened her heart to see the familiar sight. Even that recognizable smell of aged wood and burning peat soothed something chaotic in her mind.
"Miss Prince," a voice called the moment she had opened the door. Hermione had to resist the urge to roll her eyes, peace never lasted very long within the castle walls. Auror Longbottom stood just inside the door with Professor Dumbledore at his side. She should have known that the older man would have been notified the second she strayed past the wards of Hogwarts. The sight of him alone was enough for her breath to catch. He looked younger, of course, but the twinkle in his familiar eyes remained unchanged by the years he had lost. For a moment, Hermione felt like the eleven-year-old girl who had hysterically explained how she, Harry and Ron had tried to save the Philosopher's stone from Severus Snape's grasp.
"Professors," Hermione greeted hesitantly. She wondered how long Longbottom had been waiting in the Headmasters office for her to return. From his wrinkled uniform she wouldn't be surprised if the taciturn man had taken a nap on one of the comfortable chairs that Dumbledore always transfigured.
"I am so glad to see you are well," Dumbledore professed, interrupting whatever Longbottom had been about to growl in her direction. "Perhaps you wouldn't mind spending a few minutes in my office explaining your absence, while I know it is late I fear some matters would not fare well if they were left until the morning," he intoned, passing a surreptitious glance to the Auror at his side that was practically bursting at his seams to question her.
"Of course, Sir," she responded, left with little other choice. The walk to the office was a quiet one, with only comments from Albus pertaining to the sudden turn in the weather to interrupt the oppressive silence. When they finally reached the Gargoyle, Albus simply waved a hand and the staircase began to move. There was complete silence as they ascended the stairs and entered the ornate office. The room awakened so many memories for Hermione, most of which were so troubling that she immediately had to shake herself out of her revere.
"Well Miss Prince, it seems I am simply in need of an explanation for your abrupt disappearance," Dumbledore surmised as he gestured towards the chairs in front of his desk that Longbottom and she obediently sat down in. Not for the first time in her journey to the past she noticed how narrow the age gap between herself and the Auror truly was. It almost seemed as though he too was there to get advice from the venerable Headmaster instead of to contribute to any disciplinary action that might be taken. The lie she had been constructing since she left her muggle home town came to her naturally.
"Well Sir, I saw something that greatly unsettled me, and it took me a few hours to decide if this was a school I truly wished to attend," she answered carefully. She avoided eye contact with both men, still unsure how her Occlumency shields, that Snape had described so fleetingly to her, actually worked.
"So, you decide to illegally apparate without a licence?" Longbottom hissed from his seat, she could tell he was trying his best to reign in his temper. She shrugged non-committedly, knowing she would have to play the role of traumatised school girl very carefully.
"Mr Prewett did mention a ghostly presence?" Albus contributed.
"Which you skipped class to visit," Longbottom once again interrupted. Dumbledore shot him a look with a thinly veiled demand for silence.
"Please Sir, we both know it is no ghost that haunts that house," she responded, completely ignoring the hostile Defence Professor. Albus's eyes lost their twinkle momentarily, she could tell he had not predicted that she might have guessed what the Shack was actually used for.
"Oh, and what does haunt it?" Longbottom demanded, obviously completely ignorant of the ailment that plagued one of his top students. A silence passed where Hermione watched Dumbledore, trying her best to guess what her next move should be. Thankfully, the older man spared her the internal debate by raising his hand and turning to face the Auror.
"Frank, my boy, why don't you head to bed. I dare say I have monopolised too much of your time already," Dumbledore said gently, with a small incline of his head in the Professor's direction. Frank's face fell, and an expression of stricken betrayal covered his features momentarily.
"You can't be serious Sir?" Frank demanded, finding his voice after a moment's pause.
"Frank," Dumbledore responded simply with a narrowing of his eyes. Frank growled dramatically before standing so quickly his chair almost fell to the ground. He was half way out of the room before he turned once more to address Hermione.
"Don't worry girl, it won't be long now until I figure you out," he threatened darkly. Hermione felt her heart hammer in her chest, the words effecting her harshly. She already had so many enemies that it was hard to see a familiar face so angry with her. She wondered if Frank knew how close she would be with his son whether his attitude would change. She shook her head to rid herself of the redundant thought, it was pointless mulling over what peace releasing her secret would do. She knew she never would discuss the future she had lived with anyone in the past, even if it was a different future to the one they were directed towards then.
"Would you mind telling me what you meant by that statement Miss Prince?" Dumbledore requested the moment Frank had slammed the door behind him. Hermione paused for a moment to gather her thoughts.
"Well Sir, after I witnessed what I did in that Shack of yours I had to seriously reconsider my position here at this school," she said slowly, hating the necessary lie.
"What you witnessed Miss Prince?" Dumbledore questioned carefully. Hermione shook her head, he was going to make her spell it out for him.
"I am not one of your naïve students that has been locked away in a castle most of their lives," she began slowly, finally raising her gaze to meet his. It was such a relief to her to have confidence in her Occlumency Shields, even if she had little control over them. "I know the markings of a werewolf when I see them," she added as she smoothed the many wrinkles out of her school skirt to keep her hands occupied. She watched as Dumbledore's hand stilled at the mention of the beasts she had become so familiar with. It was an almost indiscernible change, if she hadn't known him so well in the future she might think him completely unaffected by her words.
"You speak like it is unusual not to recognise werewolf markings?" Albus asked, his voice losing any manifestation of gentleness he had been maintaining at the beginning of their conversation. She could tell he was more than suspicious of her behaviour, part of her wished that she had never left the school grounds. She would have had a boring day of repetitive classes and would even still think that she had a confidant in Severus Snape instead of yet another enemy. Everything had changed the moment she had excepted to go on a walk with Fabian Prewett. She cursed the flirtatious red head in her mind. Hermione was well and truly alone with her secrets and it weighed on her heart painfully.
"Sir I am a Prince," she countered.
"You say that as if it is an excuse for any flaw, there is only so long you can hide behind a name," Albus murmured, he stood and relocated from behind his desk. His movement unsettled Hermione and she had to resist the urge to raise her wand or mount a defence.
"I'm not excusing any flaws, just an unusual education," she clarified as she flexed her hands to try and remove the tremors that had returned quite suddenly. Asking Severus for the spells to disguise them would be terribly uncomfortable now, especially considering she didn't even trust him enough to lift a wand in her direction not to mind wilfully allowing him to charm her body. She sighed, she'd have to begin researching in the library soon.
Dumbledore had crossed the room slowly while she was lost in thought. He headed towards a silver table that was covered with different types of crystal decanters, filled with all manor of substances. She watched as he lifted the delicate lid off one of the bottles and poured himself a glass of, what looked to her, to be muggle Whiskey.
"You'll have to excuse me, it has been a most stressful day," he intoned darkly. He brought the glass to his lips slowly and took a large gulp of the amber liquid. She wondered how often he had been pushed towards drink during her arduous six years of schooling. It was strange that she hadn't even noticed the silver table in her time had Hogwarts, she supposed that time had changed her perception. She looked at the Headmaster once more, truly taking him in. At one point in her life Dumbledore had almost acted like a deity, all knowing and secretive. His power had been unquestionable in her mind and her trust in him unwavering.
As Hermione watched him then, weary looking with a drink in his frail hands, she couldn't help but consider how human he looked. It hurt that childish part of her brain that always thought he would be there to save her when the time came. He looked drained and was probably more than a little worried that Hermione had plans to blackmail him with the information she had uncovered. After all, it would be grounds for dismissal in the judgemental eyes of the Board of Governors if they knew he was educating a werewolf, especially in times that were so politically volatile.
"I suppose the only question that is left Miss Prince, is why you have returned to the castle at all?" Dumbledore asked as he meandered slowly back towards his desk, glass in hand.
"It's simple really," she muttered.
"Indeed?" Dumbledore asked in a dismissive tone.
"I don't know what you have going on here, but if all your other students are fine I doubt I'd be an exception," she answered with a weak smile. It seemed unusual that she should be in a conversation with the revered Headmaster in which they both had equal footing. The older man paused for a moment and sat his extravagant crystal glass on his desk.
"I met your father you know," he imparted with a scrutinizing gaze that shook Hermione to her core. "Back when the world was still recovering from Grindelwald's reign. Europe was impoverished, both muggle and wizard kind scavenging for the life's they once had. He was young then, still under his father's influence. It was a miracle that Eileen managed to grace these halls, but certainly not the first-born son. No, the first time I laid eyes on him was from across the room in a little pub outside Nice. He was scarcely more than one-and-twenty then, but he still seemed to capture the attention of everyone around him," he finished as he deliberately sought her gaze for the first time, his light blue eyes adrift in a memory she couldn't help but become enraptured by. She watched as he once again lifted the glass to his lips before taking a large gulp of the amber liquid. It seemed to pacify him and allow him to gather his words less stridently.
"He was clever too, I see him in you most clearly. Perhaps not in your looks, they were not what the Princes were famous for. I dare say your mother must have been a beauty to grant you such loveliness," he murmured with a small depreciating smile and a gentle gesture towards her face. Hermione didn't blush, not feeling at all like she had been given a compliment but more permitted a cold hard fact. "It does not surprise me at all that Prince found himself a pretty wife before his passing, for what he lacked in looks he made up for in dry wit and raw talent," Dumbledore stated. "And that my dear, is where you are most keenly modelled on him," he added, his smile growing.
"Sir?" Hermione pressed when a silence had settled over the awkward pair. Dumbledore shook his head and she watched as he tried to disentangle himself from a memory.
"But he was hot-headed and narrow sighted at times, not unlike the young Mr Snape you have grown so close to," he stated once he had returned to himself fully. He finished the glass with one last gulp before banishing it wandlessly back to the table to stand with the other expensive crystal. Hermione didn't know how she should react to the rather bullish declaration. She wasn't sure if a true daughter of Lord Prince would be offended by the Headmaster's rough description of what was supposed to be a most admired father.
"I'm not quite sure-," she attempted.
"My point, dear girl, is that you stand at the same crossroads your father did when I met him in that pub all those years ago," he interrupted gently. "Do be sure to use the imperturbable logic that brought you to the castle tonight when you pick the path that will shape your life," he concluded solemnly. "It is the only thing that separates you from him," he finished before he rose from his seat. Hermione followed suit, knowing the end to their conversation was nearing.
"Allow me to walk you to your common room. I dare say we have left poor Mr Prewett stew long enough," he declared with a large smile.
"Of course, Sir," Hermione agreed with a small incline of her head. She watched as the Headmaster held his office door open for her and considered the differences between the man in front of her and the man that had left his worn copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard specifically for her observations. He was certainly less secretive than his counterpart, but there was a weariness in his features that seemed almost counter intuitive. This Dumbledore hadn't fought Tom Riddle for the better part of twenty years, his apparent exhaustion was a mystery to her. She supposed that Grindelwald's defeat had been a gruelling ordeal for the powerful man, both physically and emotionally. The years between the event had not yet diminished his lassitude. They also hadn't, in Hermione's opinion, left much room for the development of wisdom. The man in front of her seemed more on edge, readier for an enemy to spring from behind every corner. Not the settled older Headmaster that was a hundred steps in front of everyone. This one was clawing to stay in the lead, making her wonder when she would be used as yet another anchor for him to further his position in the tumultuous years ahead.
…
Sirius perched on his chair beside the fire, the book he had been feigning interest in thrown haphazardly across his lap. He watched as a third-year boy made his way up the stairs to the boys' dormitories. He sighed and looked around the common room. The more deserted the room became the harder it was going to be to act like his presence was casual. As it was, only Lily, Fabian and Sirius were left, occuping the armchairs at almost strategically separated spots. Any small respite he had been given from his mistrust of the Prince heir had sharply diminished at the rumours of her exploration of the Shrieking Shack. While Fabian echoed his worry to his friends that some ghost had possessed the girl, Sirius knew better. If something really did scare her away from the shack, if she really had worked out the secrets within, his friends had more to worry about than a missing girl.
Initially Remus had wanted to wait around and talk to the fiery girl, try to reason with her if she planned to reveal her deductions. However, Sirius and James had convinced him to wait upstairs. If she did suspect a werewolf was living in the castle, then Remus would be playing right into her hands. No, Sirius had suggested a more casual approach. He would wait alone and try and steer her thoughts away from his dorm mates.
Fabian let out a sigh pulling Sirius from his thoughts. He watched as the red heads' eyes once again drifted towards the common room entrance. The boy really was worrying himself silly. Sirius supposed he had never seen Prince in action like he had. To Fabian, Prince was probably a sheltered Pureblood that had a knack for retaining a fact or two. Sirius knew better, he had duelled the girl after all. He knew that she could protect herself well enough. There was no way the girl had left the grounds through anyone's will but her own.
Lily shifted in her seat, drawing Sirius's eyes towards where she sat. Her Potion's textbook lay open on the table in front of her and ink stains covered her pale fingers. To anyone else it might have seemed like the redhead was scrambling to get some last-minute work done in the warmth of the common room. Sirius rolled his eyes, knowing that the assignment she was hurrying to complete wasn't due until late next week. Everyone in the Great Hall had seen Snape being escorted out by the Headmaster. It didn't take long for people to put his summoning and the Prince girl's disappearance together. He had no doubt Lily wanted to be the first in the know if Prince did reappear. Sirius didn't know which the redhead was hoping for, her to remain missing or to return.
There seemed to be an unspoken understanding between the three of them however that prevented Sirius from drawing attention to the redhead's presence. If he were to mention it then perhaps they would both ask why he was there, and he didn't need those questions. He sighed as he pondered what exactly he was going to say to Prince when she finally did return, he had no doubt she would after all. There would be no way he could simply pull the wool over her eyes. She was no ordinary student that would be satisfied by an inane lie. No, Sirius had no doubt that the heiress had seen her fair share of the darkness the world had to offer and survived it to boot.
A flash of the shaken girl on the bridge flew threw his mind. Prince had seemed so vulnerable then, so guilty all for a crime she did not commit. Sirius wondered if he could use that emotion to his advantage. Something in the pit of his stomach rejected the idea harshly. That brief respite they had had from their arguing had been peaceful and entirely different from what Sirius had ever imagined from the heiress. It seemed cruelly extortionate to manipulate those emotions, almost as if the girl on the bridge was a completely different person to the one that had disappeared that day. Sirius was ejected harshly from his thoughts by the opening of the common room entrance. His eyes immediately fell to his book, not wanting to appear over eager.
"Luna," Fabian exclaimed loudly in relief. Sirius watched from the corner of his eye as the boy quickly rose from his seat to greet her. "I was so worried," he confided, his whole body seemed to sag with the released tension.
"Oh Fabian, I'm sorry," the weariness in the girl's voice had Sirius raising his head fully to study her. What was supposed to be a quick peek turned into a full-on gawk as Sirius took in her appearance. Gone was the straight unruffled uniform replaced by a grass stained shirt, wrinkled skirt and a jumper trailing on her ground behind her. Her hair was everywhere, and her face was flushed crimson with her eyes rimmed red from what Sirius supposed was due to crying. Despite it all she looked a vision of passion and force, even in her exhaustion, reminding Sirius of the first time he had met her when she had defended the little muggle girl from their questions.
"Where did you go?" Fabian questioned as he reached out and took her jumper in his arms, as if even that weight was too much for her to bear. The girl hesitated for a moment, her eyes scanning the room. She locked eyes with Sirius's for a moment too long to be considered a coincidence and he felt his blood run cold. What did she know?
"I don't rightly know, something in that house must have muddled my head," she answered with a watery smile. Sirius didn't believe it for a second, but Fabian seemed to eat up her excuses.
"I'm so sorry Luna, I tried to rush in after you but-," Fabian began but she waved her hands dismissively.
"Don't worry about it, I was just being stupid," she summarised with a self-depreciating smile that made her look even more like an innocent girl that found herself in a nasty situation. Sirius resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the rubbish she was producing. No longer able to maintain his cool he stood suddenly and marched over to the pair, all too aware of the redheaded audience that seemed to follow his every move.
"Prince," he greeted frostily. "Can we talk?" He ordered more than asked. For a moment she looked like a deer caught in a bright Lumos at his request, he could tell she had expected him to ignore her like he usually did. Fabian's eyes narrowed at his cold tone.
"I think Luna has had enough excitement for one day, eh Black?" Fabian warned, his arm reaching around to rest at the small of Prince's back. For some reason that Sirius couldn't understand the gesture grated his nerves enormously.
"Oh, I don't know Prewett, what's life without a little excitement?" Sirius countered, his tone never losing its aloofness. Reaching out in a spontaneous motion he wrapped his arm around Prince's dainty wrist and pulled her to his side. She seemed too startled to say or do anything to contradict him. For a moment Sirius faltered, this did not seem even remotely like the girl that had cursed him on the train. She seemed lost and to Sirius's bewilderment a little broken too.
"Black," Fabian hissed as he opened his mouth to launch into a tirade. Sirius smirked knowing that the boy was too much of a gentleman to drag her back to his side. Taking advantage of his browbeaten Pureblood manors, Sirius all but pushed Prince towards the exit of the common room. Just to rub salt in the wound he reached out and grabbed her jumper from his arms.
"It might get chilly," he explained with a smirk, if possible Fabian's face grew even redder at his cheek. Prince still hadn't managed to form so much as a word to halt the proceedings and was easily guided towards the exit once more.
"It's past curfew," Fabian called after them authoritatively. Sirius looked back one last time at the angry redhead.
"Oh, you're going to get her in trouble again today? Haven't you done enough," Sirius responded in a faux gentle manor, his eyes flashing wickedly.
He heard the huff of annoyance even through the portal door.
"Sirius," Prince hissed when she finally regained her voice. "What is going on?" She questioned as she eyed him irately. He could tell she had not appreciated being manhandled, not that anyone much appreciated it.
"We need to talk Prince," Sirius stated sombrely, dropping the irritating smile he had used to get under Fabian's skin. He gestured down the corridor with a wave of his hand, insistence painted in his eyes. She studied him for a moment before sighing loudly and stalking away from him, clearly put out by yet another interruption to her day. Sirius caught up easily and remained silent at her side, pointing in what ever direction he wanted them to take until finally they reached an empty classroom half way up the astronomy tower.
Prince immediately pulled herself up on one of the high tables. She was noticeably too tired to stand much longer. She watched silently as he erected a few privacy wards around them. She didn't even seem surprised when he began casting, clearly, she was no stranger to warding. He would not have been surprised if she could far surpass him in terms of the casting.
"What do you want?" She finally asked when he leaned against a table in front of her.
"What happened today?" He asked, he was done being subtle with the mysterious girl. Her eyebrows raised slightly at the questions, Sirius watched as realisation dawned in her knowledgeable brown eyes. Once again Sirius wished he knew what she was thinking, whether she had figured out his biggest secret and was just toying with him until she revealed it to everyone. She lowered her head, breaking their eye contact.
"Like I said, it's all a bit hazy," Prince stated, moving to rest her head in her hands which were shaking jerkily. It seemed odd to Sirius who had thought the castle was warm that night.
"Hazy?" He pushed relentlessly. He vowed silently that he would not leave the room without an answer. He could never sleep with Remus fretting about the dormitories anyway. A sudden wave of anger passed through the dark-haired boy. What right had she to unsettle his friend so badly? Why couldn't she just mind her own business like a good little emptyheaded Pureblood heiress?
"Well?" He spat when she still hadn't responded. To his surprise Prince's head snapped out of her hands and she stood abruptly from the table. She withdrew her wand and started to deconstruct his locking wards swiftly, so effortlessly that her work reminded Sirius of a hot knife through butter. There was no doubt about it, Luna Prince was no ordinary witch.
"Oi," Sirius hollered, maddened by her obvious desire to leave the conversation. He reached out to still her rapidly moving wand arm but was brusquely shaken off.
"Shove off Sirius, I have neither the energy or the patience to have this conversation today," she stated in an irritated tone. Her face was scrunched up in fury and she was taking deep breaths to calm herself down.
"That's too bad 'cause we're going to have it whether you like it or not," he argued bitterly as he stepped in front of her to distract from her spell casting. She didn't look him in the eye, a measure a part of him recognised she was taking to keep her temper under control. For some reason that irritated him even further.
"Jesus Christ Sirius you wouldn't be able to stop me from leaving this room even if I was blind folded and wandless," she hissed vehemently. It fascinated him that tears of frustration were brimming at the edge of her eyes. It seemed oddly satisfying to him that he had merited such a strong reaction from the unshakable girl who only let her guard down when she wanted to.
"Jesus Christ? Some Pureblood you are anyway," Sirius commented with a wicked smile that seemed to breathe contempt. Prince spun around and took a step away from him before releasing a large growl in the direction of the Heavens.
"For once in your life Sirius could you just do what your told and walk away?" She demanded with her back turned.
"You know so little about my life Prince-," he attempted, affronted by her exasperated tone.
"I reckon I know all I need to," she interrupted with an exaggerated scoff. She threw her arms up in the air, vexed, before placing them on top of her curly hair that was tossed messily. The sound of her dismissal of everything he had to worked so hard for grated on his already fraying nerves. He stalked forward before grabbing one of her raised arms and dragging it down sharply. She was forced to twirl swiftly, almost losing her balance, only Sirius snaking his other arm onto her hip to steady her prevented her from falling.
"You think you know everything about everyone witch, but you're blind lass," Sirius hissed. "Blinded by that snake you call a cousin and frenzied by the bloodlust that seems to permeate the air near any of them," he continued bitterly. To his surprise Prince threw her head back, not even bothering to extract herself from his grip, and released a loud bark of a laugh. It was cold and filled the room with the unspoken tension of the day.
"You think I'm blind?" She questioned rhetorically through her unnerving reaction. "I'm the only one in this whole castle that sees this world for what it really is," she muttered absently. Sirius snarled at what seemed like her thousand cryptic answer of the day.
"Is that what you saw today then? The world for what it really is?" He demanded haughtily. He tightened his grip on her arm and waist when he watched pain flash across the heiress's features. It was clear he had struck a chord, a tear streaked down the side of her face but suddenly Sirius didn't feel any joy in the reaction. She inhaled sharply, her breathing ragged from holding back sobs.
"TELL ME," he ordered, hoping his loud voice would unsettle her enough to reveal the secrets she was harbouring so judiciously, he should have known it would have the opposite effect. Finally, she looked up and met his hard stare defiantly.
"Why not just obliviate me?" She requested almost desperately. "Take this day away so I can stop thinking about it over," here she used her free hand to push at his chest. "And over," she pushed again, this time harder, "And over and over in my head," by the time she had finished she was screeching and striking his chest with all her might.
"Prince," Sirius readjusted carefully, suddenly all too aware that they were no longer discussing Remus or the Shrieking Shack. The hits were weak, for as talented as she was magically she was still just a short scrawny girl.
"No, go on," She muttered hysterically through the tears that were now pouring down her cheeks. "Do it," she commanded. "I dare you," she encouraged manically. Pushing against his grip which had slackened at her words she reached into his pocket and pressed his wand into his hand. "Take this day away," she spat angrily. She lifted his hand up until the wand pressed into her forehead. "I don't want to know," she murmured, her brown eyes boring into his.
"I-," he began but paused, completely out of his element.
"What's the matter?" She questioned sarcastically. "You're so desperate to know what I do? Why not even the playing field, eh?" She cried, her grip tightened on his hand and she pressed his wand harder into her temple. Sirius was sure it must have hurt but he was too shocked by her outburst to do anything about it. He didn't even register he was moving until he saw his free hand come to rest on her cheek. Absently his thump brushed away the flood of tears that was trailing steadily down towards her chin. The tender action seemed to shock her into silence.
"Sometimes we all want to forget, even when we can't," he stated hesitantly when he finally found his voice. "Obliviating won't fix anything," he affirmed resolutely. Her face scrunched up and she took in a long-ragged breath.
"I can't anymore, I can't do this anymore. I want to go home," she lamented sorrowfully and even though Sirius knew little of her past or what was troubling her in that moment, something in her words resonated strongly with him. He exhaled loudly before dragging her into his arms and squeezing her tightly. She didn't fight the pull, instead she settled into the robes covering his chest and continued to weep mournfully. Sirius stared ahead at the blank black board that occupied the classroom wall in front of him trying his best not to think too much about the situation he found himself in. One thing was certain, he hadn't expected this turn in the conversation.
….
Lily watched from the corner of her eye as Luna Prince wandered inattentively into the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. The enigma of a girl had not returned to the dorms until the early hours of the morning and had not so much as spoken a word to any of the girls. They hadn't pushed her, having heard tales of the trauma she had suffered at the hands of nasty ghosts out by the Shrieking Shack. Lily could not help but wish that they had been a little more forceful, she herself knew she could never question the girl too persistently after the events of the summer so she was forced to rely on second hand information.
Lily watched as Prince hesitated noticeably before taking her seat beside Severus, who watched her as if she were a precious gem that could fracture at any moment and become worthless. The redhead looked around the classroom to note that Prince had the attention of many of her fellow classmates and even Auror Longbottom, who was not even bothering to hide his penetrating glare directed at her. Lily rolled her eyes, annoyed that once again nobody was the least bit suspicious of the girl's odd behaviour. When she had heard of Auror Moody's visit through the Hogwarts rumour mill she had been more than tempted to bring the conversation she had overheard to the attention of the Headmaster, but Sirius's words played over and over in her head. Was she obsessing over her old friend and how quickly he had replaced her in his life?
"Alright class, we'll be practising simple disarming spells today," Auror Longbottom began from the front of the classroom. When the class seemed to universally release a sigh of disappointment he rolled his eyes and continued. "You have to perfect the basics before you can move on to full on duelling and I'm still not happy with the practical experience that your last Professor described in his leaving notes," he explained in a droll tone that hinted he also wasn't happy with the boring class material. "Pair up," he commanded before waving his wand and sending the desks and the chairs towards the sides of the room. Those who were still sitting had to scramble to escape their already moving chairs. Clearly Longbottom was not in a good mood.
Lily watched as Prince reluctantly approached where Severus was waiting expectantly for them to begin. To her surprise Sirius approached her while Alice began to chat to Remus about the assignment.
"Wanna pair up?" Sirius asked with a nod at the redhead, who nodded hesitantly. Sirius usually avoided her if possible which made his offer decidedly suspicious. She watched as his gaze almost involuntarily shifted to examine Prince from across the room. Lily barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes, she had subconsciously picked the position in the room with the best view of her old friend and the Pureblood heiress.
"Please tell me you are not interested in her?" Lily hissed passionately when everyone was out of earshot besides Black. She watched as Sirius forced himself to study her words, still half-distracted trying to covertly watch Prince, before her meaning finally registered. He shook himself from his daze and glared at Lily.
"No," he denied vehemently, his grey eyes narrowing in her direction. She simply raised her eyebrow and sent him an incredulous glance. He shook his head but none the less continued. "I'm just making sure Snape isn't trying anything, the pair of them are so odd," he finished, dropping his gaze to look at his wand.
"Oh, so now you're suspicious?" Lily murmured disbelievingly. "I've been telling you for weeks there's something off about her," she added glibly. He rolled his eyes at the indignation that seemed to fill her words. He sent her a weak Expelliarmus which she blocked easily just to give the appearance that they were practising. They both knew the simple disarming spell perfectly.
"Something off about her? From what we heard she's on the light side of all of this and he's the one with the dark connections," Sirius rebutted tensely, referencing the conversation they had overheard in the depths of the Slytherin dungeons.
"So, you do like her?" Lily accused once more.
"Just stating the facts," he defended fiercely. They both watched as Snape closed the distance between himself and the Prince girl. They had been practising about as enthusiastically as Lily and Sirius had before they had paused. Sirius watched as Snape reached out to grip her arm before she flinched away. Sirius let out a low whistle.
"Trouble in paradise," he muttered more to himself. To his surprise Snape did not seem at all perturbed by the action instead he patiently waited and murmured something into her ear, his mouth hidden by her waves of unruly hair which she had unusually worn down that day. A move that left her looking less like the Pureblood heiress she was trying to imitate. Sirius was beginning to think she was putting less and less effort into the disguise on purpose. To his surprise Prince seemed to force herself to calm at his words, she nodded her head almost imperceptibly towards the Slytherin and he once again reached for her arm. This time she did not flinch away instead she embraced his tutelage and allowed him to fix her duelling stance. He even used his foot to edge her leg forward.
"Strange isn't it?" Lily murmured, examining Sirius as he watched the odd pairing. For once Sirius didn't retort anything, instead he turned his gaze to meet the redheads. "How different he is with her," she expanded, appearing almost grateful to have someone to discuss the unusual behaviour with. Sirius shook himself before casting another spell in her direction and vowing to keep his eyes off the Prince girl that had been monopolising his thoughts since he had silently walked her back to the common room last night. He knew he should stay away, leave the mystery alone, but Merlin knew he could never simply let things be. Not when his gut was screeching at him to unravel every secret Prince thought she held so tightly to her chest.
….
"Just breathe, I promised I'd show you how to duel properly," Snape murmured into her ear before reaching out and gripping Hermione's arm to position it correctly. She felt the skin on her arm break out into goose-bumps at his cold touch. She hadn't so much as locked eyes with her old Potion's Professor since she entered the classroom. Her fury at his unforgivable actions still freshly brewing at the front of her mind. She felt him move his foot to push hers forward until she was positioned in what she assumed was an optimised duelling stance.
"This way if you're being attacked from both sides you can turn without losing balance," he explained as he used his big hand to guide her body to show how easy the turn was. His back was pressed against her side, making concentrating hard. She was sure he had never taught Defence to her like this when she had been in school. Then again, she was pretty sure Dumbledore had requested that he teach very little practical knowledge when he was the Defence Professor. Albus had never intended for them to fight, educating both sides would have been pointless, and she assumed in his opinion probably have led to more destruction.
"You've always tended to exaggerate your wand movements as well, ever since you were a child. Don't waste how hard you've worked to cast silently by letting the opponent know what your casting with textbook movements," he lectured, and for a moment she was back in Potions with him breathing over her shoulder. If it wasn't for the remaining resentment she felt for the man and the other students in the classroom that had been keeping an inquisitive eye on her since she had entered the room she might have found the experience comforting. He reached down to her wand hand and imitated her casting of the simple disarming spell repeatedly. Each time with less theatrical movements until she was barely moving her wand.
"You never saw me duel when I was a child," Hermione muttered, the first full sentence she had spoken to the Slytherin that day. She had not even been aware she had stopped being a child in his eyes, but then again, she supposed it was easy to age in a persons' eyes when they held all the cards to your survival. Hermione shook away the thought, not ready to deal with the implications of the fact that she was the only person in the world besides Tom Riddle that knew the locations of the dreaded Horcruxes. Even the thought of the cursed object sent a horrible shudder through her body. The year on the run with the locket around her neck had been the worst of her life, a part of her still thought that recovery from sharing such close quarters with that darkness was impossible.
"I caught the end of your fight with Dolohov at the Ministry," he admitted quietly as he withdrew from her so that she could practice by herself. She was shocked by his words, most of the battle at the Department of Mysteries was just that; a mystery. She had been knocked out so early it was all a hazy recollection, her mind having used everyone else's retelling to fill in the gaps. Absentmindedly she massaged the long scars that covered the right side of her chest where the dreadful curse had met its mark.
"You were there then? That night?" She pursued, interested by his honesty. Although not naïve enough to think it was not merely another manipulation on his part to get her to trust him, she could not pass up the opportunity to find as much out from the man as she could. He seemed content to whisper over the loud sounds of the other students hollering disarming spells across the room, confident they wouldn't be overheard.
"Where else would I have been?" He questioned, as if her query had been silly. "You don't honestly think that anyone else from the order would have been able to reverse that curse before it spread to your heart. Not everyone out there is so eager to gain knowledge for knowledge's sake like us, Dolohov always did have eclectic tastes," Snape stated with a raised eyebrow. For some reason his referral to an 'us' was more startling to her than his roundabout admission that it had been him that had saved her life. She didn't thank him, knowing he hadn't told her for any form of acknowledgement, it was just a fact and if there was anything that Severus Snape but stock in it was fact.
"If only I had known that night what we were flying into," Hermione muttered under her breath. Her words, that she had hardly considered before speaking, seemed to reverberate with Severus who halted his mild corrections of her stance.
"Would you have changed it all? If you could somehow go back to that night?" He asked, something in his expression begging her to answer honestly. She looked away knowing exactly what he was hinting at. Thankfully she was saved from answering by the approach of Auror Longbottom. Quickly she cast an Expelliarmus in Snape's direction which he blocked easily.
"Prince, Snape," he greeted tersely. "Perhaps if you spent more time practicing instead of chatting you might actually extract something from this class," he continued sharply. It took every fibre of Hermione's being not to roll her eyes at the Auror's irritating attitude. After her break through yesterday, she felt little point in trying to stay on the man's good side. To her surprise he withdrew a letter from his blue robes and thrust it in her direction. She glanced at the Ministry official seal before sighing and taking it from out of his grip. From the corner of her eyes she watched as Snape had to resist the urge to yank the letter out of her hands and peruse it first.
"It's a summons from the Defence Department for an official questioning. It seems those photos of you are enough to merit a little investigation," Longbottom explained lowly, apparently he too surprisingly wasn't thrilled about the idea and didn't want the other students to know. "As a gesture of good faith, due to the incident with your previous questioning Auror Moody has agreed to host the interview in front of Dumbledore in his office," Longbottom explained resignedly.
"Of course he is," Hermione scoffed sarcastically. Longbottom eyed her heatedly.
"It took a lot of negotiating on Dumbledore's part to get this much, you'd be going into the Department for the day otherwise. Don't be ungrateful," he reprimanded sharply. For her part Hermione dropped the incredulous look from her face and nodded her head, dropping her eyes to the floor.
"Tonight at 9," Longbottom ordered suddenly.
"But that's no time at all," Snape hissed reaching out and snapping the letter from her hands. Longbottom shifted his gaze to study the incensed student he had barely acknowledged before that day.
"I don't see why she'd need time to prepare for a few questions boy," he answered but there was a smirk on his lips that showed just how happy he was to have unsettled the pair. He turned and stalked away. Hermione was shocked when Snape lifted his wand and made to curse him as he moved away. Quickly she reached out and pushed down his wand before shaking her head furiously. Her grip seemed to shake him from whatever daze the Auror's brusque words and conniving attitude had put him under. Hermione looked around the room to see if anyone else had noticed Severus's unusual attitude.
Just when she thought she was safe her gaze locked with a pair of steely grey eyes that seemed to be examining her very carefully with little regard for if she noticed or not. She stopped breathing for a moment, her breakdown in front of Sirius last night had been a mistake. There was no doubt that he would be watching her every move from now on.
…..
"So, you're saying she just freaked out and thought a ghost possessed her?" Remus questioned disbelievingly. The four Marauders were sat in an alcove on the seventh floor in a corridor they all were pretty sure nobody bothered to remember even existed.
"Fear can do weird things to a person," Sirius confirmed, hating misleading his best friend. Technically he didn't even know if Prince had worked out that there was a werewolf in the school, he had just assumed she had put the pieces together. Remus exhaled a massive sigh at his words that seemed to drag all the tension out of his body.
"Oh, thank Merlin," Remus praised his luck, relieved that his position at Hogwarts was once again secure.
"I told you it was nothing to worry about Moony, just some daft girl," James reassured with a grin. Peter clasped the weary boy on the shoulder and related similarly relieved sentiments.
"And how did she take to you questioning her? Should I expect to find you attacked again?" Remus asked, a trace of humour that had been absent all day returning to his tone. Sirius idiotically hesitated just long enough for the boys to realise that there was something interesting about his encounter with the girl.
"Oh, shit Padfoot you didn't get off with a Prince did you?" Peter questioned disgustedly, though there was a little amusement poorly hidden in his eyes. They were all well used to their friend's flirtatious antics at that stage, he had been making his way steadily through the female population of Hogwarts for the last few years. Though when Peter considered it momentarily, he realised that he hadn't heard of any of his friend's conquest since well before Yule break.
"No," Sirius muttered, a smidge more forcefully then he should have making the other boys break out in peals of laughter at his expense. "Honestly Lads I didn't, I just think there's something not quite right about the lass is all," he intoned darkly, dampening the happy atmosphere that was beginning to form.
"What d'you mean Pads?" James questioned. "She's a home-schooled Pureblood from, what I've heard, is a pretty homicidal family, there's plenty of room for a bit of peculiarity," he reasoned with a teasing smile. When Sirius's expression did not brighten the others began to realise that perhaps this matter wasn't as trivial as they had first assumed. Sirius was rarely grave about anything, it wasn't in his nature, or at least it wasn't in the persona he always tried to project.
"I just think there's something odd about her that I can't put my finger on," Sirius abated reluctantly, knowing that if he insisted the others would begin to ask for details that he was not yet ready to give.
"You think all Pureblood's are weird," Peter elucidated with a comforting grin. "I wouldn't put too much thought into it," he continued.
"Right," Sirius agreed with a small smile, having no intention of following Peter's advice, for as well meaning as he was Peter could never see the bigger picture. Sirius felt a little more at ease however, knowing that he had at least alerted his friends to the suspicions he held for the deceptively quiet brunette. Joke as they might they all knew that his opinions on wizardry politics were nothing to scoff at. He was the only one amongst them that knew what was really happening outside of the walls of the castle and they all knew it. Some darkness was impossible not to feel, even if they didn't understand it. If he said that she was dangerous they would be careful, simple as that. Now all he needed to know was what he was warning against.
…
Hermione hurried down the corridors towards the Headmaster's office. It had not been more than a day since she had last been summoned towards the ornate office and the abruptness of the appointment had left her reeling. After class she had immediately fled to her dorms, completely avoiding Severus who she knew would want to discuss what she was going to reveal in her interview. If she was being honest with herself, she could admit that she felt like it was none of the older man's business how she decided to get through the ordeal. He had left her at a disadvantage from the moment she had arrived in the past by not revealing the details of her death and she couldn't help but consider the implications of his decisions. It could very well be that Detective Barrows would have lived if she had known that changing the past was a possibility.
Auror Longbottom was waiting at the bottom of the staircase when she arrived at the entrance to the office. He mumbled the password, barely acknowledging her presence with little more than the slightest incline of his head. Her unexplained disappearance had obviously been the breaking point for the young man. She had briefly thought that he had been growing to distance her from the sins that her alleged father had committed but all that hope was gone. She was a Prince in his eyes and she didn't see that changing any time in the foreseeable future. They ascended the stairs in absolute silence before Longbottom rapped his knuckles on the thick door.
"Come in," Dumbledore summoned from inside. Longbottom entered the room first, holding the door open for her. She took a deep breath before following him. She didn't look away when she noticed both Moody and Albus sat behind the expanded desk. Once again, she remembered an older wiser Moody smirking in her direction and telling her that appearing authoritative was sometimes enough to get information from a convict. Sitting behind the desk and not rising when she entered was nothing more than a power play.
"Ah, my dear, so good to see you again. I hope this wasn't too inconvenient for you," Albus greeted pleasantly. Moody snorted derisively at the words, obviously not afraid to show just how little the older mans seniority and reputation affected him.
"It was no trouble Sir, you can understand however that I was a little reticent in my attendance after the events of my previous inquisition," Hermione stated with an empty smile, choosing her words carefully.
"Of course, I've been meaning to apologise on behalf of everyone involved for that crude experience," Dumbledore responded with a twinkle in his light blue eyes. Once again Moody released a scathing sound at the Headmasters' words. The aged Auror lifted his head just long enough for both his normal and magical eye to glare at the arm which had been savagely carved by Bellatrix Lestrange. Earlier she had charmed against his penetrating sight to prevent him from seeing the disgusting word.
"Take a seat Prince," Longbottom commanded from behind her. She nodded once before moving towards the comfortable chair she presumed that Dumbledore had conjured. The young Auror remained standing behind her, leaning both his hands on the back of her chair, a position she knew was designed to unsettle her.
"Well, why don't we begin with the reasons you are here Miss Prince," Dumbledore asked, gesturing for Auror Moody to take control of the interview.
"Actually Sir, I was wondering if I might have a moment to discuss the file that Auror Moody showed to me during our last interview," she began hesitantly. At the mention of his name the Auror lifted his head and narrowed his eyes at the girl.
"What is it girl?" He asked tersely, his magical eye twirling around in his scull as they spoke.
"Well it's just I was a little shocked by the nature of the last interview that I don't think I was as honest as I should have been. You see I did know Detective Barrows, quite well actually…," she began and smiled inwardly when she noticed she had the rapt attention of everyone in the room.
So really really sorry for the delay in posting this chapter. Over the last few weeks the project I've been working on for years was quite violently TORN apart by some Professors I had to present in front of, so I've been downing my sorrows and generally feeling quite mopey. I didn't want this chapter to reflect the anxiety and self-centred pouting I've been submerged in because this story is about Hermione's growth, so I took a little break from writing it. I hope you liked this update and I'd really LOVE to hear what you thought. So please please please please review you brilliant people.