A/N: Thank you again for your kind response to American Pureblood Hermione. Following . . . well, as I get them written and stuff, I suppose . . . will be several glimpses into the future of the Dagworth-Grangers.

Taking the Pain Away

Sirius stood, incredulous, when he entered the formerly vacant room in the castle. "Well, if anyone ever harbored any doubts, love, they'd know now that you are truly a Dagworth-Granger."

His Hermione, his fiancée—a title that still occasionally made him stand still in stupid pleasure and pride—looked up from her work table. "Hi, sweetheart!" Her smile flashed brightly, the look of a woman who had her life under control and was happy to share it. "Yeah, I ordered some equipment from Dad to set up a bit of a lab, here, to work on that potion for Remus."

"Oi, Sirius!" Peter turned from a different table, bearing a cutting board with chopped . . . stuff. "This has been fascinating, working with her. She's designing this whole new approach for deep bone pain. Amazing work."

"And he hasn't wanted to translate my American into English all morning," Hermione said with a wink. In truth, she was slowly acquiring an accent, but when anyone said something, she resolutely shifted back into her just-landing-from-the-Portkey American. Sirius found it all very amusing; he'd likely do the same if he were in her boots.

Approaching her work station, he asked, "So? How's it coming?"

She bit her lip. "Well, I tested it on myself, you know. Last night."

"You what?" Sirius frowned as sternly has he knew how, worry and fear jolting through him. "Hermione!"

"I was with Madam Pomfrey. It was safe and I'm fine, see?" She turned her head this way and that before bending to light a fire under her small cauldron. "It worked well, but it tasted like, well, the refuse on the bottom of a boot or something, so I'm trying to see if I can fix that."

"Anise seeds and honeycomb," Peter volunteered, using a small bronze knife to separate the ingredients from his chopping board into distinguishable portion sizes. "And we're using all bronze, nothing silver, so none of the ingredients will be . . . a problem."

Briefly envious of Peter's proven interest in potions—Sirius was no slouch, but his interests were in Transfiguration and Defense more than brewing—he nodded. "Good. So will he be up for trying it Monday?"

"I hope so," Hermione said with a tentative smile. "I hope it'll help."

"Couldn't make it worse," Sirius replied feelingly. He'd seen Moony's agonies and anything that could even take some of it away would be a gift from Merlin. Or Hermione.

He waited until she reached a pause in her brewing and then slid behind her, wrapping his arms around her body and nuzzling her neck beneath the updo she had created with her sexy mass of hair. With a wink at Peter, who blushed, grinned, and found something to do on the other side of the makeshift laboratory, he slid his hands under her school jumper and blouse until he reached soft skin. "Mmmm, and if it doesn't help entirely, this really will," he whispered. "Just having you there with us, with him, will make the morning easier."

When the next full moon came, they all went out to the Shack. All of them wanted to know if Puck's potion was successful.

"Ready?" she asked Moony.

Moony smiled a little, his eyes sliding from green to gold. "As I'll ever be," he murmured, taking the phial from their witch. He tipped it back and swallowed the entire dose in one go, running his tongue over his lips afterward. "Honey?"

"Yes, dear?" she quipped, eyeing him carefully. "Now, you'll want to get out of your—oh, dear."

Moony had dropped to the floor of the Shack, still fully dressed. "Prongs," Puck directed, her eyes never leaving Moony's face as she knelt beside him, "transform now. Padfoot and Felina too. Wormtail and I will stay human for a few, to make sure he's not suffering any ill effects." She flashed Sirius a grin that made him feel he'd been a big help with this. "My paws are pretty agile, but they're not up to passing along potion blends."

Sirius changed into Padfoot, and he and Prongs stood over Moony's prone body as the moon rose. "All right, she's up," Peter reported with a gesture meant to indicate the moon. "How's he doing?"

Moony twitched, and then his hands and feet started to transform and Hermione swore under her breath, something about being a raging idiot and a "turkey", whatever that meant, since none of them were actually birds. As quickly as she could, she tugged Remus's clothes from Moony's body as he transformed.

The werewolf whimpered, but didn't actually awaken and Peter grinned. "Puck! You did it!"

"I just wonder if I can get Moony to take it later . . . if he wakes up."

And, after half the night, perhaps, Moony did awaken, his aspect distracted and surprised. But he wasn't in any pain. He just shook himself, sniffed everything and everybody in the place, and then was up for a subdued game of Pack Tag.

Felina won.

When Puck produced the second potion, scavenging it from a small satchel in the cupboard, and poured it into a saucer, Moony didn't know what to do with it until Padfoot himself took a risk and pretended to drink it himself.

Their friend passed out again until sunrise.

They celebrated all the way through breakfast.