Chapter 25: The Second Dinner

Summer snuck up on Hogwarts like a sudden squall at sea, taking the students by surprise. While most of the students were perhaps ecstatic to be able to go home and be free of school, the trio had found themselves overwhelmingly sad.

Remus had to return home to his parents, and for the first time in a year, he was going to have to face his transformation alone and in a cage in the basement of the Lupin residence. Unsure what Tuft would do if he "woke" to find his pack absent, Hermione and Severus had packed him a wooden chest with phials of their Wolfsbane Potion. They had decorated the box to look like a typical teenage boy's box of Quidditch memorabilia, charmed it have the appeal of the most boring box in the world. To be safe, they put a lock on it that responded to his magical aura.

They didn't want to take any chances that his parents would find the phials and make up some story in their heads before the Potion was officially released and proven effective. Master Barberry and McGonagall had agreed that Lyall Lupin was not known for his level head when it came to his son or his son's condition. He was also not known for his tolerance for "unproven voodoo" masquerading as cures for magical ailments.

Their worry for Remus turned out to be over nothing. Masters Barberry and McGonagall arranged for the trio to stay with Master Barberry for a number of days a month, and coincidentally a few of those days just happened always to be on the full moon. So, for the days and nights of the full moon, Barberry taught them the ins and outs of apprentice life, and in the evenings, they had the garden in which to romp in.

Tuft seemed to really enjoy the garden, and Barberry enjoyed watching the three wolves following Minerva around like ducklings or scenting hounds, depending on the whim of the evening. The silver tabby had the three lupine followers wrapped around her feline toes.

Trouble had come when one of Barberry's friends had come calling on one particularly beautiful full-moon night. It was then that the strength of Tuft's bond with his pack and the effect it had on his werewolf instincts was truly put to the test.

His friend had always been added to the wards on the garden gates, and Barberry hadn't thought to change them. It wasn't until his fellow Master Willowbark had already let himself in and called to him from the garden path that a bit of panic had overtaken Barberry. There, not a stone's throw away, was Tuft. He had raised his head from the pileup near the rose bushes and stared at the visitor to the garden with ears perked forward.

Willowbark had hurried up to the house and let himself in, hustling up the stairs to join his old friend. Barberry, however, had been frozen in place, his wand in hand as though he were going to start flinging spells at any moment.

"Gilford, you stuffy old bird," Willowbark greeted. "What are you doing there with your wand out like you're about to duel someone?"

Barberry blinked and stared into the garden.

Tuft let out a lazy yawn and lay his head down on Hermione's back. The werewolf had completely ignored Willowbark, preferring the companionship of his pack to the elder wizard whose posture had not marked him as suspicious or one who was a stranger to Barberry.

"When did you ever get dogs, Barberry?" Willowbark said, sitting down on the balcony with him. "Tired of dealing with the gnomes in your garden?"

Barberry laughed at the absurdity and profoundness of what had just happened. "Yes, yes, gnomes. Horrible creatures. They leave holes everywhere."

"Do let me know if they work for you," Willowbark chuckled. "The wife has been trying to get rid of ours for years. She's tired of spraining her ankle on the holes. Worse than gophers."

Barberry laughed, summoning a tea tray with the wave of his wand. "I will indeed, old friend. Sit and tell me the news."

And as if to support Barberry's excuse for their being there, the pack tore off after a group of garden gnomes, chasing them mercilessly around the garden paths. Barberry saluted them with his teacup.

He felt sort of sorry for the gnomes. Almost.

-o-o-o-

Severus attempted to return home to his parents for the summer, but the short letters he sent to Hermione told her much about the condition at home. He told her that his father spent most of his time drunk when he wasn't passed out, and it was only when he was passed out that Severus and his mother had a moment's peace. The peace never lasted, however.

Lily went on holidays with her family. They travelled to a number of places the first few weeks she returned home. She wrote a few postcards via the Muggle Post from each place she went and sent random things such as key chains and odd little pens. The pens were twisted into strange shapes and marked with the name of some random place she had visited. She said she was a little nervous about the upcoming dinner with the Board of Potion Mastery. It would be the first time her parents would see a glimpse of the Wizarding world outside of Diagon Alley.

Hermione spent most of her time deflecting a hundred and one questions an hour about what Regulus would expect his first year at Hogwarts. He did this incessantly until she was ready to lock her little brother in a wardrobe with a Muggle version of a silencing spell: a gag. Every few days, she would alternate between flooing to one or the other of her Masters, learning the mannerisms and method of her two Masters in a more intimate way. Now that Minerva was not teaching and wrangling thousands of Wizarding children at all hours of the day, she had more attention for Hermione and rest of the trio. The bond between herself and Minerva seemed to be all the stronger, especially after Tuft's claiming the silver tabby as "his."Hermione Granger seemed to be at peace inside of Hermione Black in regards to the growing bond between herself and the Scottish Animagus.

Minerva was one of Hermione Granger's only remaining contacts to a world that was buried only in her memory. While there were others that had technically shared her future past with her, the relationship with Minerva McGonagall had not changed. Minerva was still her professor and Master, and it calmed the part Hermione that clung her old identity.

Hermione would often sit in the park across from Grimmauld Place and stare into the water fountain. Sometimes she could count the coins people threw into it as a meditation, and sometimes she just watched the ripples as a sort of cathartic peace came over her. It was during these times that Hermione Granger and Hermione Black had conversations with each other. Her old self would speak to the person she had become and compare notes.

"Doesn't it bother you that you're changing the way things are supposed to be?" Granger sulked, sitting the edge of the water fountain.

"Doesn't it bother you that you're trying to bother me to complain about a world where your supposed best friend wiped you off the face of history?" Hermione asked back at her other self.

"He didn't mean it…" Granger said, biting her lip.

"Oh, and death curses are so trivial," Hermione hissed. "We ended up together because Magic put us here. You have to trust that Magic knows what it was doing, even if we don't."

"Magic is a tool," Granger said. "It is controlled by people, which can be good or bad depending on what they do with it."

"Pretty words," Hermione argued. "But you have felt the Magic that binds us to Remus and Severus. It is Magic, and it is true. It was no one's too, yet it exists. Magic exists without us. It does not exist solely for our use."

"That's not what I said," Granger said, crossing her arms.

Hermione wrinkled her nose and rubbed it. "We are the phoenix. We burn brightly to be consumed by it only to rise from the ashes anew. That is our Destiny. That is our Magic."

"We make our own choices," Hermione said, pressing her lips together. "We have freedom."

"What is freedom, but the chance to make the choices out a hundred thousand choices that bring us to the very place we are meant to?" Hermione said. "Of all the people to be born to, Hermione Granger was born to Mr. and Mrs. Granger on September 19th, 1979. She was born to two Muggles who knew nothing of magic, wizards, or witches. They knew nothing of Dark Lords, hippogriffs, or dragons save what they thought were fantasy books meant for children and dreamers. Their magic was the art of teeth. Yet, little Hermione Granger was born of them, and she was a witch. The brightest witch of her age to some. Mudblood to others. She stood by her friends, despite how horrible they were to her. She saved their lives, despite the fact they rarely ever listened to you the first three or four times you screamed at them to be careful for whatever reason.

"This witch shed her naivety, cast Dolores Umbridge to the centaurs to save her friends' lives, was tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange, Obliviated her parents and sent them to Australia, and at the same time fought a ludacris war against the unfair treatment of house-elves. This Muggle-born witch survived a great war of magic, stood by her friends, and survived. She rose up in the ranks of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and found her life unfulfilled. She apprenticed to a great witch named Minerva McGonagall. She became an Animagus and a phoenix. She rose out of flames and became a professor and an inspiration to students throughout Hogwarts.

"Yet, this same witch is cast aside by her best friend. She is blooded against the family tree of the most Ancient and Noble House of Black, and hit with a curse so vehement with Dark intent that it blew her off the face of creation. Despite this, she rose again. Here. Now. With me. How can you not believe in Destiny?" Hermione spat at her.

"How is this Destiny?" Granger cried. "I should be able to go home! I should be able to make things right and…. and…"

"Wake up in a cold bed, have no Pack that calls to you, have a best friend who tried to kill you, have a world where Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and countless others are dead? Will you deny Severus this desperately treasured piece of happiness he has found? Will you deny Remus the peace he has found in his wolf that he never had in your precious time-line? Will you cast Regulus to the death his fate will give him? Unknown and unloved by his brother never to know the love of the sister he never had? Will you condemn him to hide in that wardrobe alone while Walburga screams at Sirius about being a blood-traitor son that is unfit to wear the name of Black?" Hermione spat the last at her future self.

Granger had tears in her eyes. "But… Harry…"

Hermione curled her lip. "Do you think we will just idly sit by and allow Harry's parents to simply die? Do you think that this Severus, the one touched by love before he could cast himself into the Abyss of Dark magic and bitterness, will be sitting outside the tavern waiting to carry the prophecy to his Dark Lord?"

"No!" Granger protested.

"And if you force us back into that empty and horrible world you think should be waiting for you," Hermione hissed. "What happens to Severus? How much of him will you break before you condemn him to death by the fangs of his Dark Lord? Will you be content as he pines for the love of his childhood friend he inadvertently killed and the witch that left him alone to the past? How much of Remus will you condemn when his first true friend that accepted him when no one else would vanishes off the face of creation? To what end? To go back to that horribly lonely world where Voldemort has destroyed everything? Sure, the 'light' won in the end, and how many years did it take before Minerva could look at Hogwarts during a sunset and not cry as she held you like you were the last thing in the world left to her? Do you want that for her?"

"NO!" Granger said, putting her head in her hands.

"Your world didn't want you anymore, Granger, wake up," Hermione hissed. "But Magic did not give up on you. Magic pulled you to its bosom, gave you life, and gave you purpose. It gave you a childhood you weren't able to have the entire time you were at Hogwarts. It gave you family."

"I had a family!" Granger protested.

"And you gave them up," Hermione said steely. "You Oblivated them and sent them away. You made the choice to do it. You didn't even tell them what you were going to do, no. You just made them into someone else and shoved them to Australia."

"It was to save their life!" Granger sobbed.

"It was to save your own guilt if they had wanted to stay and be there for you for YOUR sake!" Hermione hissed. "Because they would have! They would have stayed until the end to support their misunderstood magical witch of a daughter. They would have endured torture for your sake."

"They were safe," Granger sobbed. "They were better off without me."

Hermione leaned in, her grey eyes meeting Granger's brown. "And maybe your bit of time was better off without you too. Maybe this was where you were meant to be. Making. A. Difference."

Hermione closed her eyes as the two aspects of herself rejoined each other in truce. That which was once Hermione Granger merged once more with Hermione Ankaa Black. Hermione Black may have only been twelve, but much like Hermione Granger she was capable of far more mature thought that the typical girl of her age group. On top of that, she was born, raised, and teethed on magic of the normal variety and Magic of the highest order. Lacking experience, perhaps, in places, Hermione Black knew her magic. Magic, also, knew her.

Hermione Granger had been a talented and powerful witch, but she had to learn it like learning a foreign language. She was accomplished, skilled, and beat the pants off all but the most dedicated of peers. Hermione Granger, chalk full of worldly experience and perhaps a good deal of jaded cynicism by the end of the war, had still been oblivious to the ways of magic as seen by the pure-blood side of the Wizarding world. Much like Lily, there was a whole side of things that she had never been indoctrinated into. Harry hadn't been able to teach her, practically being Muggle himself due to upbringing. Ron or the Weasleys weren't going to do it because they were about as far left field of teaching their kids the Old Ways as Ron was likely to eat brussel sprouts voluntarily. Neville was… Neville. Luna was so far into her own little world that Hermione would have come out speaking tongues before she came out understanding Old Magic.

It was only now, in this combined Hermione, that balance was truly found. Muggle-born Granger and pure-blood Black combined into the Hermione that should have been, save the few times when Granger and Black disassociated from each other and started to have an argument in a Muggle park. Everyone had their off days, she supposed.

Hermione stood up, tossing one of her few pieces of Muggle coinage into the fountain. Like it or not, Hermione Granger and Hermione Black were stuck with each other. The least they could do would be to stop arguing with each other in public.

It was probably too much to ask. She was a Black, after all. Insanity sort of ran in the family.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Friday, July 14th, 1972, Moon Waxing Crescent 16%

Hermione rose from her seat the moment the man tending the door announced the entrance of "Lord and Lady Black." She glided towards her father and mother and dipped into a formal curtsy. "My Lord Father," she said smoothly. "My Lady Mother," she said, staring at her mother's shoes in deference.

"My daughter," Orion said with pride in his voice.

"Daughter," Walburga said in a controlled voice, but as she dipped her head in acknowledgement, the side of her lips quirked upward a fraction.

"I would lead you to your table if it pleases you," Hermione said with ingrained practice.

"It would," Orion replied, no so secretly proud that his daughter's command of the switch between formal and casual interactions was praiseworthy.

Hermione rose to her feet and led the way to the table, pausing to pull out the seats for her parents.

"My Lord Father," she introduced to Minerva. "My Master, Master Minerva McGonagall, Master of Transfiguration. My Master, this is my Lord Father, Orion Black."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Black," Minerva said as she dipped into a curtsy and extended her hand. He took it gently in his own, bringing her hand to his lips but not quite touching her skin in formal politeness.

"Please, Master McGonagall, you may call me Orion," Orion said with a smile of permission given.

"Minerva, Orion," Minerva repeated the gesture.

Hermione introduced her mother, and they exchanged greetings. They all sat down at the table with more casual ease now that the formalities were observed, lapsing into a more familiar ease of interaction. Everything was casual chatter until Professor Slughorn came by, and Hermione snapped back into formality, introducing her parents to her Potions Professor.

Horace seemed very pleased to meet the Black Patriarch and Matriarch. When Master Barberry glided over to the table to do introductions, Professor Slughorn took over the reins. Horace showed his smooth command of formalities that one would expect of a pure-blood Slytherin such as he, and he did not disappoint. Slughorn slided off with Barberry to do introductions to his other groups and families.

Hermione's head perked up as she recognised her compatriots in apprenticeship. Both Severus and Remus stood at the entranceway as their families were announced, and each of them snapped into leading their families to the table. Everyone at the table rose to make introductions once more. Hermione went to meet Severus and Remus as they led the way. Hermione dropped into a curtsy, extending her hand, and Severus grasped it, bowing as he kissed the top of her hand. She did the same to Remus, and he returned the gesture. Their eyes flashed golden together, and a sense of complete and utter relief flowed between them at their reunification.

"My Lord Father, My Lady Mother, you know my fellow, Apprentice Snape. This is his mother, Mrs. Eileen Snape," Hermione introduced smoothly, thanking her memory for not botching Severus' mother's name.

Eileen Snape was, much to Hermione's surprise, wearing Wizarding robes. She extended her hand with the awkwardness of long lost practice but dropped into a curtsy for her parents one by one.

"Charmed to meet you, Mrs. Snape," Orion said, his grey eyes passing over Eileen with an evaluating look.

Eileen was quiet but gave Orion an acknowledging nod of respect.

Hermione switched introductions. "My Lord Father, My Lady Mother, this is Apprentice Lupin, his father Mr. Lyall Lupin and his mother, Mrs. Hope Lupin." Hermione eyed Remus somewhat nervously, hoping to Merlin she got his parent's names right too. Neither of her friends really talked about their parents often, and even more rarely did they give first names. Part of Hermione knew that first names were, technically, not as important as the family name in formal introductions, but Wizarding manners were slowly trying to incorporate first names when possible.

Remus smiled at her with a quick flash of teeth, letting her know that she didn't actually mess up his parents name.

Mr. Lupin seemed perfectly acquainted with social customs, but Hope Lupin looked like she'd just been thrown into a shark tank with a kilo of bloody steak.

The social awkwardness for Hope Lupin was broken up as Lily came running up from the door with her two parents trailing behind.

"Hermione! Sev! Remus! Oh, hello Professor McGonagall!" she exclaimed. She drew Hermione into one armed hug as she pulled Severus and Remus into the huddle for a group hug. She released them after a few seconds, leaving them to stand there, somewhat stupidly, looking as if she'd just thrown them into a hot beach with no protective footwear. "Mum, dad, this is my Transfigur—one of my teachers, Professor McGonagall, and this is Sev, Remus, and Hermione."

Hermione shook off her stupified expression and tried her best to salvage the situation. "My Lord Father, Lady Mother, Mr. and Mrs. Lupin, Mrs. Snape, this is my fellow potioneer, Lily Evans and her parents," Hermione made a face to Severus. She had no idea what in nine hells and the gods above Lily's parent's names were. A few notable examples of colourful vernacular did come to mind, unfortunately. "Mr. and Mrs. Evans," she said in a rush, looking very uncomfortable, praying that the old Wizarding habit of ignoring first names would cover her distress.

"Pleased to meet you, Sirs and Madams," Mr. Evans said, holding out his hand to Orion to shake, Muggle fashion.

Surprisingly, at least to Hermione, her father seemed to switch into a different sort of mode when dealing with Muggles. Muggles, as he saw it, didn't know better. They were allowed their social gaffes, much as Muggles boggled but accepted when certain Wizarding folk failed at modern Muggle dress.

Orion shook hands with Mr. Evans in flawless Muggle-fashion, and his action seemed to oil the gears that led the rest of the gathered to greet the Evans family with a brief if slightly awkward, handshake.

Severus, Hermione, and Remus waited for their parents to sit down and then waited for the signal from Minerva that it was clear for them to sit.

Lily sat down, pulling her chair into the table and smiled at everyone at the table.

Orion seemed to be amused, but Walburga looked fit to be tied, or as much as her formal inexpressive public face could look fit to be tied.

Minerva nodded to her Apprentices, and the trio gratefully took their seats beside her.

An elderly witch stood up at the front of the room, and there was a hush that fell over it. "Ladies and Gentle witches and wizards. Welcome to our second dinner of the Board of Potion Mastery. Today, we are here to honour those whose formulae have not failed to impress us in their originality and execution. None that are here are anything but the best of praise. It will be extremely difficult to choose a winner from all those here, but rest assured, all of those here are truly winners in their own right. There should be no doubt of this. Please, celebrate with us, friends and family, for those you are here to support have worked very hard to be here, and there isn't one of them that doesn't deserve. I think it will be no surprise that some of the masters have been very eager to get their hands upon their prospectives. Some of which have never been known for their… self-restraint in such matters," she tutted and clucked her tongue.

The elder witch passed a smug smile to a few of the Masters, who gave her their best halo look. Chuckles went up and down the front table.

"For now, eat, enjoy, and celebrate with us!" the elder witch said, clapping her hands, and the tables were suddenly swamped in delicious food and rink.

Hermione, Remus, and Severus noted that there were quite a few others in the room now wearing the distinctive apprentice robes and the marks of their claiming masters. They were not the only ones, it seemed, that had been scooped up before the contest was even done.

Slughorn had been correct when he had speculated that win or lose, those that made it to the later steps of the contest were going to have quite a bit of positive publicity and padding for their future careers, whatever they may be. There were many at the dinner that were far older than the trio, and being chosen as an apprentice was a great and immediate boon for those who without pressing job offers being thrown their way. The trio, however, would be blessed that their early assimilation would have then prepared to walk into a specialised job as a master the moment they graduated. There wouldn't be a place that wouldn't want someone like that, from the Auror's Office, the Ministry, or places such as Hogwarts.

Slughorn has been so ecstatic to see the trio wearing their matching apprenticeship robes that he practically oozed pride over them. The following Slug Club Dinner had been alive with talk and praise. Farrant and Maine had shown up in healer apprentice robes. The pair had been snapped up by a Healer at St. Mungo's for their work on the improved boils cure, and apparently the Healer that had claimed them was beyond enthusiastic to do so. Farrant, a hardworking Hufflepuff, and Maine, a brilliant Ravenclaw made a team that few could deny was a perfect match for what they had achieved together. Their passion to heal was matched only for their selflessness, and Slughorn had a taken a photo of the young apprentices together and placed it on his shelf.

The trio had asked Minerva and Gilford if the contest was really about bringing potentials into the sights of predatory masters who wanted apprentices rather than an altruistic award of an apprenticeship to the winning party.

Barberry had laughed whole-heartedly. "You miss little, my apprentices. Such skill in observation shall serve you well."

Lily had taken the news of the trio's being pounced on by Barberry with mixed emotions. She seemed to think that it was because she was out that day suffering from a cold that she was not offered a place with them with Master Barberry. The truth was that Barberry had no interest in Lily. She had not, unlike the trio, made a sizable impression on Minerva, and it was through Minerva that the three had ended up on Barberry's radar. By the time the potion formula had entered into it, Barberry was already nibbling on the line. He had just been waiting, gauging, and choosing his time like a quintessential Slytherin.

The elder witch who had accused the masters that had taken apprentices before the contest may have joked that each of them had horrible self control, but the truth was they had quite a bit of it. The difference was, they knew exactly when to make a grab for what they wanted before someone else did.

Lily had stopped pouting about it when a woman from Witch Weekly came to interview her and her brewing group about their upcoming line of haircare products. She became the reigning celebrity of just about every witch in Gryffindor Tower according to Remus. Everyone was swamping her with questions and following her and her brewing buddies like they were the saviours to hair.

Severus had quipped that his hair had still not recovered from her first disaster with hair-care products, and Lily had snubbed him, saying it served him right for having horrible hair to begin with. The black-haired wizard shook his head, unimpressed by the attempt to impress her friends through the teasing of him in public, simply turned and walked away and hadn't stopped walking until he was under the old oak tree that had become the trio's refuge against the panoply that was Hogwarts social gymnastics.

After about an hour of leaning up against his pack-mates, he had confessed that it really shouldn't have hurt him having Lily using him to make herself look better in the eyes of her friends. It wasn't exactly a new tactic for their age group, and she was not, by far, the only one who ever engaged in the practice. Unlike the trio, Lily was not wearing a constant reminder of her accomplishments in the form of apprenticeship robes and marks, and even the trio had to admit that her actions were probably her way of trying to feel good about herself in shadow of her friends accomplishments. The praise and attention she was getting from the growing number of fans throughout Hogwarts would most likely die down to a dull roar after time, and the Lily they remembered would return to them, eventually.

Hermione had enveloped Severus in a warm hug, giving to him what she had never had problems doing since their first week at Hogwarts: acceptance. "We'll just have to work on something for you hair on our own, Severus," she chuckled.

Severus scoffed. "It's fine. I sort of got used to my hair being a failure since then. I kind of use it as a reminder."

"Oh?" Hermione had asked. "What of?"

"Never trust a woman bearing shampoo," Severus answered with a sniff.

Remus had belted out laughter as Hermione rolled her eyes, giving her friend a playful shove.

Hermione realised as Severus' dark eyes had met hers and a small smile played about his lips that she was truly thankful to have found a friend in the lonely boy. There was a great part of Severus that had been aged beyond his young age, much like Harry had been forced to thanks to the Dursleys. Severus' horrible home life had given him the taste of bitterness and despair before most children their age even knew what such things were let along experience it. Yet, when Hermione Granger saw his genuine smile that so subtle it could have been missed and watched how the warmth reached his fathomless eyes, she knew that Hermione Ankaa Black had been right. She could not deny him this piece of happiness anymore than she could deny Remus their friendship. They had become intrinsic to her life as much as Orion was her father, Walburga her mother, and Sirius and Regulus her brothers.

Hermione felt the soft touch of Severus' hand on her wrist, his fingers seeking comfort from the touch of her skin. Hermione flicked her eyes over to where his mother was having a conversation with her parents.

Orion, the master of all verbal disarmament, was making pleasant conversation. Walburga had her head tilted to the side as if evaluating whether something was good to eat or fit to be cast into the fire.

Hermione stroked Severus's wrist with her fingers to reassure him. Her mother was intimidating regardless of whom she was meeting with. She had no doubt at all that if she were to go to some high society Muggle function that everyone would think her the Grand Duchess of Something-or-Another and would not even question her right to be there. Her father, however, had the somewhat unknown talent of being able to blend in to whatever social occasion required. Short of when he was wearing his finery, the elder Black could fall in with fishmongers and make it seem like he'd been throwing fish all his life. On the same day, he could turn on his heel and be mingling with the royal court without the slightest hesitation. Hermione admitted a little envy at her father's ability. Oh how her life would have been different if Hermione Granger had been so well versed in social acrobatics.

The food was, as to be expected, glorious, and soon all conversation came to an end in favour of shovelling said food into their faces. Severus seemed to be relieved he remembered which fork was the salad fork, and Remus seemed to happy he remembered to use a fork. Hermione chuckled, patting both her friends on the leg in solidarity.

Mr. and Mrs. Evans seemed to be settling in with less nervousness. The displays of magic here and there startled them somewhat, but after a while the surprise was replaced by a sense of wonder. Hermione remembered avidly her first sight of Hogwarts and how magical it had seemed before she had even set foot in the Great Hall. It was that same flicker of wonder that was on Lily's parents' faces, and she liked what she saw there. She would have liked to think, that had Hermione been able to invite the Grangers to an event such as this, perhaps they would have had a better understanding of the hidden parallel world their daughter lived in.

By the time everyone had been fully stuffed with the dinner fare, group games had materialised on the table. Their table had a game of the Wizarding version of Pictionary with the key difference being if someone guessed the right word for the picture, the picture came to life and pranced off the page. The game had delighted the Evans family, and Orion commended that it was a game meant for Regulus.

Hermione noted that Severus' mother seemed to have a very wistful look upon her face. The part of her wondered if Severus' parents had met and married in love but had it end badly due to her being a witch. Had it been because of the betrayal of finding out that the one you loved had an entirely different life once? Had it started when Severus had started to throw around accidental magic, and Eileen couldn't hide the truth? Or had there been lost love between his parents long before Severus?

Hundreds of thoughts and questions went through Hermione's mind, and unlike Hermione Granger, who would have balked at being nosey at Professor Snape's private life, Hermione Black had no such scruples on her curiosity. Severus was her friend, and it was natural to want to know things about your friends. It's not like Hermione Granger didn't recall thousands of intimate details of Harry and Ron's life whether she wanted to or not.

Something was keeping the older witch with a man who held no love for her. Something was more powerful than being beaten on regularly as her husband came home in a drunken rage. Why else would a fully capable witch stay in such a situation? Why not raise Severus alone and away from his horrible father?

Hermione Black shuddered at the very thought of Muggle divorce. To a pure-blood, marriage was not just words on a piece of parchment. It was the binding of two people and their combined magic together. It was the most sacred of bonds. There were three types of marriages in pure-blood society. Pre-arranged marriages, which may or may not have contained love, but upon marriage they were bound together magically, were the first kind. The second were marriages for love, which also ended with the pair being bound magically upon marriage. The third, however, was most sacred covenant of all. Those that instigated courtship, initiated the four sacred kisses of mind, friendship, equality, and love could find themselves bound together by the Old Magic. Magic chose to bind the pair together, and it didn't matter what pre-arranged marriage may have been said on paper, the bond was the epitome of marriage. The couple would find themselves bound together in magic and soul. It was undeniable.

It was also considered the highest form of High Magic possible. If it happened to you, Magic had decided your fate, Magic had judged you pure, and Magic would flow through your family forever. It was the only way a non pure-blood could be accepted into pure-blood society and not have their magic or purity questioned. It left a mark upon their family as obvious as a brand. It was said that was how the pure-blood families were founded at the very beginning of all things. Magic had chosen. It was also the reason why marrying outside those that were considered "blessed" by magic was viewed as a poor choice.

Many pure-blood young witches dreamed of finding the one that would sweep them off their feet, engage them in courtship, and find that their first true "kiss" bestowed upon them the ultimate blessing of Magic's mark. Sadly, it wasn't as common as the stories would have them believe. Hermione had grown up believing in it, however. Her parents were bound that way. Apparently Orion had bestowed Walburga a kiss under the embarrassing Mistletoe at a family function, and Magic had done the rest. Prearranged marriage contracts were nullified, and the two were officially wed the moment they came of age. No one in the Ancient and Noble House of Black thought twice about it.

Bellatrix Lestrange had married shortly after her graduation to Rodolphus Lestrange in an entirely expected lateral move. There had been no contract or duty, but Bellatrix was the type to accept nothing but wealth and pure-blood marriage prospects. Secretly, the family was somewhat relieved that she married at all. There was some worry that Bellatrix' less than stable personality would be a turn off to any stable-minded suitor, but for whatever reason, Rodolphus seemed to find Bellatrix suitable material for his wife. There had been no talk of children, which was always a disappointment to most pure-blood families. People couldn't help but think that Bellatrix and Rodolphus shared a mutual desire to tolerate each other and be childless, living to the very minimum of what was expected in society. Whatever they married for, it was not love, and Magic had judged them and found them lacking, refusing to bestow upon them its ultimate blessing.

As Hermione pondered the fate of Eileen Snape, she couldn't help but wonder if there was a safe place the witch could go to, and if there was, would she go to it if she had the opportunity? Hermione resisted the temptation to slam her head onto the table. All of this speculation was moot. She wasn't Hermione Granger with contacts in the Ministry of Magic in Britain or Bulgaria anymore. Her contact in Bulgaria hadn't even been born yet. She was twelve, and while she arguable had more money set aside in her private vaults than Hermione Granger had after years of saving, she wouldn't be seeing that money under her control for quite some time.

Lyall and Hope Lupin were a curious couple. Hope seemed to be relying on Lyall for all her social cues, but they seemed like a completely normal pair. Normal was such an odd concept. What was normal for a wizard who married a Muggle and had a half-blood son who was turned into a werewolf? Even taking away the entire wizard and Muggle combination, would two parents desperately trying to cure their son and at the same time lock him in the basement of their home in a cage three nights a month be considered… normal?

To be fair, Hermione admitted that Remus' solution to his problem had been a little unorthodox to the typical "lock them away" standard that the Wizarding world tended to favour. There wasn't exactly a support group for parents whose children were werewolves or Animagus classes for Wizarding families with werewolves amongst their number. The potion they had been working on—Potion Master Severus Snape's original formula for an older Remus Lupin—was going to be a whole new world for werewolves who were desperate to calm their inner wolf so they would not hurt their families.

Remus had looked relieved to have Severus and Hermione near him once more, and they too had felt the undeniable relief of having their group together again. She imagined that there was an unspoken tension between he and his parents because of his condition. At least Master Barberry had used his influence to allow him to "care for" Remus during his moon nights, and much like how Albus Dumbledore had convinced them that it was safe for Remus to go to Hogwarts, they agreed to allow Remus to be in care of his masters on whatever days they chose.

Once they were done reinforcing their small touches to each other, they surreptitiously made small official looking touches to Minerva as well, reinforcing both the bond to their master as well as to their token tabby cat pack member. They had learned to be quite stealthy about it, and part of the game was execution with flawless subtlety. Minerva had accused Remus of sprouting scales, and Hermione and Severus grinned at her with approval.

By the time it was their turn to report on their results of their potion, it had became clear how much of a boon it was having Slughorn, McGonagall, and Barberry towing the line for them. Hermione, Remus, Severus, and Lily basically stood there as the potion results were already formally submitted, a series of sample phials were passed around for each judge to analyse, and each Potion Master seemed to be excited about the results.

"Professor Slughorn," Master Highweather called from the front table. "It is my understanding that you tested the potion on three different occasions with three different people who have had the misfortune to have contracted lycanthropy?"

"Yes, Master Highweather," Horace answered with a nod.

"And what were the results?" Teaworth said with a sneeze, causing a random cup to go flying off the table and hit the wall. Teaworth closed his eyes and rubbed the area between them. "The cold is gone, but every time I sneeze," he muttered, sniffling into a handkerchief.

Slughorn stepped up. "I gave one phial to each person before sundown due to being unsure when the change would occur. Each volunteer has been notoriously violent upon the change and has attempted to chase down and attack any and all humans before their condition was known, and they were incarcerated during full moons. Upon the change, each werewolf did not throw themselves at the bars of their containment or show aggression towards me, choosing instead to either pace or ignore me. In the morning, each reported feeling better than they had in years and suffered none of the physical abuse that werewolves are none to cause to themselves when confined.

"While none of them showed signs of their human personalities, each werewolf showed far more 'normal' wolf behaviour as one would find in the typical natural species," Horace continued. "And while each werewolf was undoubtedly suspicious of me as a stranger, there was no violence."

"Amazing," Greenpetal said with a nod, scribbling with a quill on a very long piece of parchment.

"Apprentice Snape," Highweather addressed. "From reading your analysis, you stated that you believed that this state of mind of the wolf over that of man was preferable. Can you explain?"

Severus loosened his collar. "It is my belief, Master Highweather, that the mind of a wolf at peace and in a natural state is preferable to a human mind in a werewolf body. If a person were to have a potion where the human mind was dominant during the change, it would allow abuse of the potion for those werewolves who wish to spread their affliction to others and create more werewolves or, in more distasteful situations, sow violence and discord for its own sake. A natural wolf has no such desires, and while it will defend itself and its family or pack and its territory from other wolves, it is not the sort of animal that seeks out humans and attacks them. While I believe that the formula could be tweaked to allow a human mind in the werewolf body, the regulation of the potion would have to be highly guarded due to the potential for abuse. The potion would also require multiple doses for up to a week before the change with no alteration to the end potion, or it would lose efficacy. The potion we have created can be flavoured without consequence, requires only one dose before the change, and will last the entire moon cycle for that month."

"And the research on the altered formula?" Teaworth asked.

Remus scribed the altered formula in the air as Hermione scribed the Arithmancy research on the different outcomes depending on which ingredients were used and the balance of the human-mind potion versus the wolf-at-peace potion. Lily filled up the chalkboard with the various herbs and ingredients in the base formula, substitutes, and which ingredients were absolutely contraindicated.

The scribe at the front table was furiously quilling down the information to properly document the process and research.

"Honestly, Master Barberry," Highweather muttered. "Did you train them how to break our scribe?"

"Me, Master Highweather?" Barberry said, adorning his best and shiniest halo.

Master Willowbark, who had been silently writing away with his fancy looking owl quill, shook his head. "We are looking at the combined effort of not only Professor Slughorn, but also Masters McGonagall and Barberry, Master Highweather. Since when has anyone coming from either of them been anything but prepared?"

Highweather sighed, tapping her quill to her forehead. The scribe nodded to her after a flurry of recording, stamping, wax sealing and signing.

"Well then, my young potioneers," Highweather said with both amusement and weariness. "Come here and place your seals upon the final documents. Final deliberations will happen by the end of the month, and notifications will be sent out as to the results at that time.

Lily, Severus, Hermione, and Remus filed up, poured wax on the right places, and set their seals down into the cooling wax. Slughorn and McGonagall did the same, and Barberry set his own seals down on each of the parchments and official documents.

"Tell me, Barberry," Willowbark said with a sniff as all of the parchments were being gathered. "Should we just send the galleons to your account like we do every time you take a proactive interest in taking an apprentice?"

Barberry pressed his fingers to his throat. "Me? I'll have you know I do not influence anyone in their votes!"

Highweather scoffed. "You don't have to. You're like a litmus test for talent, Barberry."

Barberry steepled his fingers together and leaned back in his chair, a smug smile upon his lips.

"Enjoy the rest of your evening," Highweather said, waving them off dismissively. "Professor Slughorn, I believe you have other groups to bring in, yes?"

Horace nodded. "Indeed I do, Master Highweather."

The elder witch nodded. "Go ahead and bring the next group in then."

Minerva herded her cubs out in front of her, gently placing her arms out to push them along.

"How do you think we did?" Lily asked as they found their way back to the table.

"I think we impressed them," Remus said thoughtfully.

Severus nodded. "I don't think they expected us to be that prepared."

"When do we get to hear the big reveal about your project, son?" Lyall asked Remus.

"If we win, I suppose, sir," he said, unsure.

"When we win," Hermione said with a tilt of her head.

"Well then," Orion said cheerfully. "I look forward to the announcement of your victory."

Hermione beamed at her father. "Father, Mother, would it be okay to have my friends over for the weekend, please?"

Remus and Severus perked up. Lily looked startled, but she gave her parents a silent plead.

"I suppose," Orion said, running his fingers over his chin. "If it pleases you, my wife?"

Walburga eyed the group of children with her eyebrow cocked. "Very well."

Hermione bounced excitedly as Severus, Remus, and Lily simultaneously gave their parents "the eyes."

"I don't see why not," Mr. Evans said with a nod from his wife.

"Very well, if Lord and Lady Black are not inconvenienced," Lyall answered for Remus.

Eileen nodded silently to Severus, giving her approval.

The four students bounced in their seats with excitement, convinced that this was a far better reward for having to suffer through the social feats of the evening.

"You are not allowed to keep Regulus up until dawn with your incessant giggling," Orion warned the children.

"But, Father," Hermione whined. "What if Regulus keeps us up with his incessant giggling?"

Orion's mouth twitched into a smile. "Welcome to my last three months."

-o-o-o-o-o-

A/N: Oh, Regulus, You're going to be a menace to your First Year class. His enemies are going to be unable to resist his charms and boyish glee.
So I ask you, my faithful, who do you think will be most likely to get through to Lily about Wizarding manners without triggering her "you're not the boss of me" switch?
McGonagall perhaps? Orion? Perhaps Regulus could notice how she acts and use his bee-charming abilities on her?