A/N: This chapter was a bit… emotional. Just saying.

Beta Love: The Dragon and the Rose

One Step Forward, Two Decades Back

Chapter 36: Bittersweet

Monday, May 14th, 1975, Waxing crescent, 8%

Lucius Malfoy paused as his hand alighted on the handle of the door, a faint tremble in his arm. Hot shame filled him, a feeling unlike anything his father had ever managed to instill in him— shame and overwhelming regret.

Lucius Malfoy was now a married man, both by magic and by law— married to the wrong witch by his own carnal, potion-induced lust, something he had not asked for and he could not control. That, however, did not matter. He had gotten Narcissa Black pregnant, and that had forever sealed the bond between him and a witch he had never favoured and broken the bond between himself and the witch he believed to be the love of his life.

That he and Narcissa had been slowly becoming closer following the incarceration of his father was of little comfort. That they had managed to scrounge up a kind of gentle tenderness between them also didn't matter. His heart still belonged to Hermione Black, and his very soul lamented the loss of her gentle presence in his mind, the soft brush of her fingers against his skin as they walked together side-by-side— the way it was supposed to be. The way it was MEANT to be.

Lucius closed his eyes. The looks Hermione's loyal chevaliers had given him as he walked into Master Barberry's estate had said it all. Trust had to be earned, and despite the fact that Lucius had not chosen to hurt Hermione of his own free will, in all his potion-induced passion he had truly wanted Narcissa Black, and she had wanted him. He had betrayed Hermione, and the consummation of his lust for another witch had nearly killed her. It had killed a part of her, and he had obliviously thrown himself into insuring that the Malfoy line would continue on with an heir even as Hermione lay dying— fearful and betrayed— by the very magic that should have kept them together forever.

Slowly, Lucius stepped across the threshold of the room.

Hermione stood silhouetted in the brightness of the sunlight-filled window, her raven-black tresses wild and unkempt. She turned to face him, and he saw how very young her face looked. A part of her was still catching up to where she had been before. Her eyes, however, a grey so light they were almost crystalline, betrayed her true age.

"Lucius," she whispered, and Lucius Malfoy came undone, falling to his knees as he prostrated himself before her.

"Hermione," he choked.

She gave him a look that unmade him all over again. It was filled with all the things he knew he didn't deserve.

"I'm so sorry," he rasped.

Hermione turned her head away, her face transforming from warmth to a cold, frozen mask of detachment. It was a mask that Lucius knew all too well.

"I did not think you would come," she said after a while. "Today of all days."

"I had to," Lucius said, wincing. "Today was the day we were to… announce our betrothal."

Hermione stared out the window. "It wasn't meant to be," she stated painfully.

Lucius hung his head. "It was meant to be, dammit," he cursed, causing Hermione's eyes to regard him with clear surprise. "I had never felt something so right in my life! Even now, I feel… lonely, so incomplete without you." He clenched his hands and slammed them flat on the floor.

"When I wake up in the morning, I want it to be you beside me," he groaned like a wounded animal. "I want your face to be the one that greets me first thing in the morning!" He pulled at his hair, clawing at his scalp. "It was supposed to be you, Hermione!"

Lucius' face was tortured and haggard. For the first time in all the years she had known him, his face wore a shadow of fine stubble. "Hermione," he whispered. "It has always been you."

Hermione looked into his face. She walked towards him, kneeling to place her hands on his, cupping them gently between hers. Her eyes and expression were sad and resigned. "I do not blame you, Lucius. What your father did to you was a heinous act of unspeakable cruelty. What my own family did— I had no idea there was so much hatred within my own blood. No… perhaps I knew all along. I just thought it would not affect me personally."

Hermione stared upward. "It simply wasn't meant to be, Lucius," she repeated. "Had it been, the very moment that we kissed, the Magic would have forged a Pure line from our union. We would have been bound, instantly, irrevocably."

She turned to him, staring into his eyes. "We were compatible. I believe we could have had a wonderful life together, but Magic did not choose that type of bond for us. If it had, your father, my uncle and his wife would never have been able to successfully bring their plot to fruition. No amount of Amortentia could have forced you to break the bond between us."

Lucius moaned, his arms shot out and pulled her to him with a cry of pure despair. He wrapped them around her with a desperate, wracking sob, burying his face into her wild, unkempt hair.

Hermione's eyes squeezed shut, her hand trembling as she combed his hair in a habitual motion. "I will always love you, Lucius, but what we had can never be again. Our plans must fade into the land of dreams. You are now married, and now I must respect the bond you have with your new wife."

"Damn all magic," Lucius sobbed, "if it takes you from me."

Hermione closed her eyes, two trails of hot tears sliding down her face and into his white-blond hair. She jolted, quickly patting her robes as she fumbled her hands over them. Hermione then pulled out a vial and slid it against her face, capturing the precious tears. She shook, her body trembling as the tears continued to form, her sobs wracking her slight body with silent torment.

By the time she slumped over, the vial was full of glistening tears. Silently, she felt around for a stopper in her robes and placed it in the vial. She placed it in Lucius' hands.

"Take these to Master Demeter in Aberdeen," she whispered. "Tell her that I sent you. She will brew for you an elixir that you should have Narcissa drink one sip of every day from the moment you wish to conceive to the day your child is born. It is my last gift to you, my love. A wish for a happy future and an heir when you are prepared to have one. When you are both ready…" she trailed off.

Lucius looked at her, shaking his head in adamant denial.

Hermione placed her fingers to his lips. "When you are finally ready, Lucius. One day, you may look into the eyes of your wife and realise you do truly care for her… and she for you."

She pressed her lips to his forehead. "I forgive you, Lucius. Now, please, forgive yourself."

Hermione allowed the distraught Lucius to weep harshly into her robes. "We must have faith in Magic, my love. For without Magic, we are but a galleon at sea with no wind to carry her."

Lucius clutched at her robes. "Just one night, Hermione. Let me hold you to me as I once did. Then, tomorrow, I will face the judgement for my actions and take responsibility for them."

Hermione crumpled against him as he pulled her closely, wrapping his arms around her tightly as his sobs shook him to the core.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Lily, will you stop mooning over Potter?"

Lily flushed. "I am not mooning over Ja— Potter."

"So it's James, now, is it?" Amanda cooed.

Lily flushed even harder. "Oh, do shut it," she huffed.

Amanda wiggled her eyebrows saucily at Lily.

Lily groaned.

"I can't wait to tell Marlene."

"You will do no such thing!"

Amanda pouted, her lower lip protruding. "Come on, Lils. I know you've been interested in him ever since the boy grew a pair."

Lily glared fiercely at her friend.

Amanda used her fingers to pantomime antlers and grinned. "Who knew you were so attracted to the animalistic types?" she ribbed with a purring meow.

Lily slammed her forehead hard against her Herbology book.

"Seems you've changed your tune since first year, Lils," Amanda said, perching her head on her hands. "Just last year you were saying that anyone who wanted to turn themselves into an animal was some kind of freak."

Lily flushed. "I did not. I said… I said that it was unnerving."

Amanda shook her head. "It's okay to be wrong, you know."

"You don't get good marks being wrong!" Lily snapped.

Amanda drummed her fingers against her cheek. "There were a lot of misconceptions about Animagi before the Auror Animagi teams were made public. That entire rescue operation in Hogsmeade opened a lot of eyes. There is no shame in realising that you didn't know something, Lily."

"I know!" Lily huffed.

"What's really bothering you?"

Lily turned her head away. "They should have told me."

Amanda let out her breath slowly. "So you could have rejected them for being freaks?"

Lily scowled. "No! I wouldn't ha—"

"Lily, I love you. You know that," Amanda said, "but maybe the reason they didn't tell you is because they knew you weren't ready to know about it."

"I would have accepted them!" Lily insisted.

"After a few months or maybe a year when you finally realised you missed having them around, maybe," Amanda said sadly.

"That's not fair," Lily pouted.

"Lil, it's okay to have been wrong," Amanda repeated. "Just don't be mad at them for knowing perfectly well how you'd react. That's a part of friendship too."

Lily scowled.

Amanda nudged her with her elbow. "Now, tell me all about James."

Lily flushed all over again.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Hermione yawned beakily as she woke next to Fawkes. Both his neck and Zabulon's were curved around her feathered back in sleep. While the chick was mostly grown, it seemed that the bond between phoenix family members remained very strong.

Hermione had to smile at that. Phoenixes were the ultimate adopters. Whatever phenomena had formed their eggs in the slipstreams, male phoenixes were driven to collect them. Females, on the other hand, had an irrepressible desire to hatch the eggs— so much so that even with her human mind, she felt she could not deny Fawkes his chicks.

Her resurrection had put a slight crimp in her ability to maintain a human form, and that had been a first for her. Master Barberry had introduced her to a magizoologist named Master Lillian Dupont, and she had examined her thoroughly to make sure there was nothing truly amiss. Of all the people in the world, she remained the only person who had chosen to study magical birds as her speciality, most people having found it too much work to track and gain the trust of creatures that literally flew away the moment they spotted you on a good day.

Master Dupont, however, had an ace up her sleeve. She was an even rarer creature, a Caladrius Animagus— the ancient snow-white Roman healing bird that was renowned for being able to take sickness into itself and fly off with it, neutralising it. No magical bird ever denied her a perch near them, and she was allowed a unique insider look into the private lives of the magical birds she encountered.

"I believe it is much like when I take sickness into myself and make it disperse, Dupont had said with a nod, stroking Hermione's feathers and down soothingly. "It takes a lot out of you to use your most special power. That's not to say you couldn't do it again soon after in a pinch, but it's very draining. She'll be as right as rain after a few months, when her physical age catches up."

Hermione had been relieved. The last thing she had wanted to go through was becoming a toddler again and then trying to teach a class. While she was recovering her strength and regrowing, Severus and Remus had covered all of her duties that required a physical appearance, and Hermione put herself to work doing what she could intellectually, such as plotting how to liberate the rest of Fawkes' eggs. There was also the challenging matter of finding the eggs first before any liberation could happen.

She had a growing hypothesis that the ward Dumbledore had placed on the wall was based on touch, so as long as she or Fawkes didn't attempt to open any door that was formed on the surface of the wall of the seventh floor corridor, they could then pass through any door that was opened by another person completely unmolested. That would involve teamwork. Fortunately, Hermione and Fawkes had plenty of friends with willing hands to assist them..

Dumbledore had shown no more than passing interest in Animagi, and that did seem to carry over from what Hermione remembered of him in her former time. She was unsure whether he knew of their existence and had judged the information to be inconsequential, or if the wizard viewed them as no greater a threat to his plans than the average wizard or witch. From what she knew of Albus Dumbledore, he always tended to know much more than he let on, and yet, no one could recall him ever making a trip to consult the Animagus Registry— something which required a sign in and a record of exactly who you were looking for. The information was a matter of public record, but you could not simply walk in and, say, demand a list of every single Animagus in a given area. You had to fill out an official form and provide both a specific reason and a clear description of your search. If there was evidence of a possible criminal offense, an Auror was required to keep watch over you as you searched for records pertaining to a particular offender.

The Animagus Registry wasn't intended as a way to allow people access to such information as a means to persecute a known Animagus. It was there to protect both the Animagus and the general public from wrongful acts. Part of Hermione wondered if something had changed in respect to how it was all handled between the present time and the future that she remembered. Still, Minerva didn't seem to think there was anything inherently wrong about being registered, and now that she knew a fair number of Animagi, all of them registered, she had no reason to see ministerial registration in a bad light. Animagi protected their own, which led Hermione to believe that the Rita Skeeter she had known had been a truly horrible person. She had shunned all others, used her form for her own selfish benefit, and feared anyone discovering her illicit talent. As far as Hermione could see, the Animagi community was all one big family, brought together by shared talents and skills. If that was the case, the Rita Skeeter of her original timeline, and even the Marauders themselves, were the true oddballs. Then again, the future she remembered had never had anything remotely like the Auror Animagus Corps.

In her original time, she had not known Master Barberry and the virtual horde of other Masters who had proven themselves to be so very supportive in her studies under Masters Barberry and McGonagall. They had guided, protected, and taught Remus, Severus, and herself with undeniable benevolence and generosity. If this was indeed how things had originally been, she suddenly realised just how much the rising of Tom Riddle as the Dark Lord Voldemort had ruined a beautiful support system for emerging young talent.

The Dumbledore factor, however, was like an itch she couldn't quite reach. Something was terribly off about him, and maybe it was simply because her mind was no longer limited to the life experiences of a typical teenager, but Hermione wasn't quite sure. Something… something horrible had happened in her once-past. It was something that had taken the Masters' system completely out of the equation. It had started a war that destroyed countless lives, hidden under scores of murdered Muggles.

Hermione Granger knew nothing of these deaths. She couldn't imagine Master Barberry or any of his associates willingly permitting Tom Riddle or his minions to take over the system they had loved and so carefully nurtured. Something truly horrible must have happened. Was that the true reason for Minerva McGonagall's sad and stern countenance in her memories? Had something awful happened to Master Barberry?

Somehow, her being— her existing— in this particular time, had changed things irrevocably, but not in the bad way she had been so worried about before. People were surviving that had never been allowed to before. Other people, like Argus Filch, had a smile on their face and a fulfilling life. Severus and Remus were close friends in this present. James and Sirius were actually tolerated in the life of Severus Snape. They might never become fast friends, but Regulus was helping to keep them in check with a keen sense of retribution and clever pranks that kept the two who would have formed the infamous Marauders on their toes, in in ways that had nothing to do with the kind of malicious magical warfare in the halls of Hogwarts that she had once heard grim tales of.

And Regulus? Sirius dearly loved his little brother. That was all she really needed to know to realise that things were indeed much better. Her Lady Mother genuinely loved her family. Her personality was so much more than the hideous, shrieking portrait from her future-past. The stories Sirius once told Harry of his horrible family seemed so implausible, now. Foreign. Lies even. Could one person being there at just the right moment in time change things so very much?

Hermione fluffed her feathers and yawned. Flames flickered off of her body in blue waves that slowly shifted into a cooler green. She felt better. So much better now that the situation between herself and Lucius was finally concluded. She was not happy with the way things had ended, but she had accepted what could not be changed. There was a part of her which believed that Lucius and Narcissa were truly destined to be together— perhaps because that was the only way one Draco Malfoy would come into being. Maybe Draco, like Harry, had a destiny. It did not have to be a grand destiny. Maybe one of them, or both, had to be somewhere at exactly the right time to bring a smile to someone's face at just the right moment— like a phoenix born of a human mother, staring into the eyes of one young Lord Orion Black and seeing only love. One event changed everything.

"You cannot believe in fate," Hermione Granger said, her shade sitting primly on the nearby bed. Her hair was in pure disarray— bushy and horrible— as though she had never bothered to use hair tonic for one single day of her life. Truly, the girl should have met with Lily Evans and discovered the wonder and glory of effective hair care products.

"Why not?" Hermione Black answered, stepping off the nesting box into her human form. She pulled her cloak around her, sweeping about the room with her normal, almost Snape-like, flair.

"Fate?" Granger scoffed. "Some kind of divine influence guiding your path? Please. Where was divine influence when we were children dying in war?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "You think that just because you didn't actually see it that Magic abandoned you? How shallow can you be? You claim that the Purebloods were bigots and fools for not accepting you, but did you, even once, put all that cleverness and talent for research to good use and dig up the facts about why they had become that way?"

"They judged me only because of my blood," Granger hissed.

"Perhaps," Hermione answered, "but after all you have seen in this time, all of these events that have come to pass, can you not see where the seeds of strife were carefully sown? It does not make them right for judging you, but it does make it understandable."

Hermione Black stared into the whisky-brown eyes of her once future-self. "Magic has never once abandoned us. In every incarnation, it has been there, fueling you to fight and win against impossible odds. You protected your friend. You survived having foul slurs carved into your arm. You faced those impossible odds, again and again. Yet, you still thought it was all you. You thought you were an island, separate and isolated, all alone. Perhaps, you should give more credit to the Magic that bore you, sang to you when you slept as your Muggle parents rocked you, and whispered in your ear of future glory and wonder."

Granger turned away with a huff, angry tears forming in her eyes. "That's not true."

"It is true," Hermione seethed. "If you had met our Lord Father in this future, would you have known how to bow your head in respect for his Line? Would you have even cared why? Would you be like Lily, oblivious and self-righteous to the end?"

"It wasn't like that," Granger snapped back.

"Wasn't it?" Hermione asked. "Perhaps we have been given this gift from Magic to learn the truth of what we have been given. Perhaps I lost Lucius because Magic is writing another story for me. Do you think he truly deserves this pain? The man who had done nothing but protect us from when we were very young?"

"He did unspeakable things—"

"So did you, Hermione Granger. So did you. You may not have murdered anyone in cold blood, but there was a girl cursed with boils on her face for life. There was a woman, albeit a deserving one, who couldn't hear hoofbeats without suffering vivid flashbacks to her treatment amongst the centaurs, who you knew would do unspeakable things to her."

"It was all for Harry," Granger protested.

"Blame whoever you wish," Hermione countered. "Both sides were fighting for their very way of life. One side was being used by another figure, who fed their paranoia and fears of the loss of hundreds and thousands of years of tradition, into the beast that eventually became a war. Maybe both sides were wrong."

Granger balked.

"Life is like Magic," Hermione lectured. "Magic is grey."

Granger looked conflicted. "Some things had to be done."

Hermione narrowed her eyes, her grey eyes almost clear. "Like Obliviating your parents? Without even asking them first? Without even having the honour to respect their wishes on the matter?"

Granger paled. "No! What I did, I did to save their lives!"

"You forced magic on them. They were innocent," Hermione said levelly. "You could have explained it. You could have told them why, but you chose not to. You just made the decision without asking for their input and wiped their minds, not unlike that buffoon, Lockhart. You might have simply Imperiused them to move to America and take up veterinary school," Hermione accused.

"Those kinds of spells are unforgivable," Hermione protested in horror.

"Oh, and wiping someone's mind against their will, implanting false memories, and moving them to Australia is so much more forgivable?"

Hermione scrunched up her face. "That's not fair. You know I loved them. And they loved me."

"And that was a horrible way to show it! You could have contacted Viktor and arranged for them to be moved to Bulgaria temporarily. He offered to help you in any way he could. And instead of relying on the one person who respected you for who you were, you pushed him away. You gave him a laundry list of reasons why he should find someone else. You let him think you were dead for over two whole years after that wedding reception. You waited until the war was over and your name was ablaze with pretty lights on the front page of the Daily Prophet to even inform him you were still alive. That was how you showed your love, Hermione Granger. That is how you treated people who respected you. Loved you. Do not preach to me about unforgiveables and the right side of the war. There is no right side. There are only the winners and the losers, and the winners get to write the history books that justify their win."

"Voldemort was an evil man!" Granger yelled.

"Yes," Hermione said simply.

"Yes? You won't even argue the point?" Granger accused.

Hermione shook her head. "I do not disagree that Tom Riddle was a horrible excuse for a human being. He used people for his own ends. He treated them like cannon fodder for his own gain. Remind you of someone, Hermione Granger? Remind you of someone you thought was such a brilliant, wonderful, benevolent old man— a man who uses phoenix eggs to power his Time Turners, one of which he gave to you to use your third year? Makes you really wonder where that giant Time Turner came from at the Ministry. Who made it, do you think? Who didn't bother to explain to them exactly how it was created? Ever wonder why the Time Turners were banned? Ever wonder why Fawkes really left after Dumbledore died? Why would such a generous and caring soul just leave when so much horror was coming? Hrm? What could possibly have happened that would drive a phoenix away from those he would have normally tried to help? Do tell."

Granger paced listlessly. "He helped Harry. He helped us!"

Hermione stared straight into her alter-ego's face. "To correct his original mistake. He effectively made Tom Riddle. Do you think Tom Riddle would ever have become a rising Dark Lord if Dumbledore hadn't trained him to be just that? He rescued Riddle. He pulled him out of that Muggle orphanage. He ignored every single warning sign telling him that Tom Riddle was a very bad seed right from the start. Then, after all the horrible things he had decided to just ignore, Dumbledore finally realised he had to fix something. Yes, he helped you, but do ask yourself why. Ask yourself why Minerva always cried whenever she thought no one was looking. Ask yourself why she couldn't bear to look at Dumbledore's portrait for so many years after the war."

Hermione Granger slumped. "But we won because of his help," she protested.

"You won because Magic blessed you and didn't give up on you.

"Magic is not alive," Granger reasoned. "It cannot make choices for us."

Hermione gave Granger a curt shake of the head. "Perhaps, Hermione Granger, Magic lets us make our own decisions. And karma is what punishes us for making selfish decisions in the end."

"Neville's parents didn't ask to put in St Mungo's with… with—"

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "I did not ask to be effectively murdered by my uncle and his wife!"

Granger looked pained.

"Perhaps it is not about karma for all things," Hermione said levelly. "Perhaps it is about things happening for a reason. What if Neville needed that strength gathered by years of seeing what the darkest of deeds did to his parents to become the man who took Nagini's head. What if shy, bumbling Neville never became anything more because his parents were there to coddle him throughout his life?"

"Just because you have a happy life does not make you faulty!" Granger argued.

"No, but think on this," Hermione answered. "What would Hermione Black have been without Hermione Granger's perspective? Without all of your guilt, mistakes, faults, and pain, would I have had the respect for the things I have been given in the here and now? Would I have been born a phoenix to look into the adoring eyes of my Lord Father and be cradled in the arms of my Lady Mother? Would I have appreciated all the things I was allowed if not for that tiny voice that whispered to me of what could have been had I not been there?"

Hermione Granger sat down, her face haunted.

"After all you did, Hermione Granger," Black surmised, "your supposed best friend cursed you out of your original life. Your old life cast you out, but it did not end there, dark and alone. Instead, we have each other. We have become more than we were, and Magic has never once let us down, even when it dealt us a heavy blow. Hermione Granger may never be again, but we do exist together. Would you deprive your family of you. knowing that it has done so much good, all out of some selfish desire to return to the world that cast you out?"

"What if Harry is never born?" Granger gave a final protest, her face in her hands. "What if I mucked it up?"

Hermione Black pulled her robes across her body. "What if Harry Potter was never meant to be born or survive, Hermione?" she asked with a stone-like face. "No, think on this before you yell. Think. What if Harry Potter only existed in one life to put things in perspective for this one? What if in this world, it was never Harry Potter. Maybe it was Rosemary Potter. Maybe it was Jamie Potter. What if either of them grew up and became a famous Auror that saved thousands of lives by being in the right place at the right time? What if that could only happen if you were here with me now changing things for the better?"

Granger winced, her emotions swimming on her face, an overwhelming denial against a world without Harry James Potter shaking her to the core.

Hermione Black saw the despair written across her other aspect's face. "There, you see? You lost faith again. That is the difference, Hermione Jean Granger. You lose faith in yourself, your magic, your grades, or even Magic itself. Magic had never lost its faith in us. It has sung us to sleep every night since the day we were born."

"I will not lose faith in it," Hermione Black announced. "Neither should you."

The shade of Hermione Jean Granger closed her eyes and sighed. She stared into Hermione Black's eyes. "You do not truly mean to be cruel, do you?" she whispered.

Hermione shook her head. "We are both tenacious in defending what is what is important to us Hermione. We are both Hermione. Without what made you who you were, I would not be who I am now, but we are together now. We are Hermione anew. Without your understanding of Muggles, I could have been as bad as Bellatrix or I may have been the next Andromeda. Who is to say? Maybe, it was your compassion that allowed our Lord Father to open his heart to possibilities and tamed the scowl of our Lady Mother."

"Mum and Dad used to say, things happened for a reason," Granger said with a smile.

"And how is that any different from how I have faith in Magic?" Hermione replied. Suddenly, she turned away, tears forming in her eyes. "Even when the pain makes me doubt my faith by taking the things I love from me."

Granger took her hands in hers. "I'm sorry. I know Lucius… this Lucius is not the man who did such horrible things. I just don't want to be lost. I don't want to be forgotten."

Hermione sniffled, wiping her tears from her face. "We are one, you and I. Magic brought us together for a reason. All your faults and mine, joined together to find a more perfected end."

"We can make things better," Granger whispered.

"We already have," Hermione said.

Granger smiled. "Then, let's keep doing that."

Hermione smiled. "Let's."

Granger looked up into the grey eyes of Hermione Ankaa Black and disappeared.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

April 9th, 1976 - Waxing gibbous 69%

"You ready, Fawkes?" Remus asked the phoenix as he clung to Severus' shoulder.

The red and orange bird warbled, bobbing his head.

Hermione stared at the smooth, flawless wall. "He never replaced the ward. I can't sense it."

"We shouldn't risk it, even so," Severus said.

"Master McGonagall says that the Headmaster is entertaining Aurors and the Board of Governors in the monthly staff meeting, so now is the best time to be doing this, since everyone who can be is currently enjoying the day exploring the wonders of Hogsmeade," Remus said.

Hermione shook her head. "Ever since that incident with the malevolent mixture, the Aurors haven't been letting the Headmaster slide without status reports on a regular basis." She paused. "It feels odd talking about Aurors as separate entities, when we are, technically, trained Aurors ourselves."

"Animagus Rescue Team, technically," Remus quipped.

"A division of the Aurors," Hermione huffed.

Severus reached over and whapped them both upside the head. "Technicalities. Phoenix nest. Priority."

Both Remus and Hermione slumped, caught in their distraction.

The trio walked together, up and down the hallway, focusing on the same need: the hidden resting place for Fawkes' eggs. Once, twice, three times they walked down the same hall, keeping their thoughts centered. By the time they paced the hall the third time, crackling sounded as an ancient looking door formed in the stone, very unlike the ones that had formed before.

"It formed precisely where Hermione touched the wall that day," Remus noted.

"Where the ward was," Severus said with a nod. "Not a coincidence."

"Not bloody likely," Remus snorted.

"Mmmrrrrrow!" came a distinctive meow.

"Mrs Norris!" Hermione greeted, picking up the patrolling cat.

The cat enthusiastically rubbed up against Hermione's face.

"If we don't come out… will you find Argus? Or Master McGonagall?"

"Mrrrrow!" Mrs Norris answered.

The trio took turns petting her before Hermione set her back down on the floor.

Severus and Remus opened the door together, exposing an exceedingly cluttered room within.

Hermione squared her shoulders and strode across the threshold into the room beyond.

Mrs Norris watched the door disappear and sat down against the wall opposite it, her tail flicking lazily as she kept her own feline vigil.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"This room is such a mess," Severus noted in disgust as they stood surrounded in everything from old brooms, cabinets, trunks, nick-knacks, draperies, duvets, and countless other items.

"I think this was my mum's lost teapot," Remus said with a little horror, staring at an old, ceramic teapot that was sitting on a tray.

"Erm, not to be rude, Remus, but isn't your mum Muggle?"

"She is," Remus replied. "That's why it baffles me, how could her old teapot have ended up in here?"

Severus looked a little disconcerted.

Fawkes, however, was suddenly very interested in something, and he took off of Severus' shoulder and flew deeper into the room.

"I think this is the book Alice lost," Hermione noted. "Look, here's the candle wax Frank spilled on it."

"Well, maybe this is the best place to find a lost next of phoenix eggs," Remus reasoned. "In a room of lost things."

"This room looks different from the one we were in before. That one was cluttered too, but the items in here all seem to be truly lost rather than simply cast off," Severus said, drawing his finger across a small chest. He opened it curiously after casting a spell to make sure it wasn't trapped or warded. The chest creaked open and exposed hundreds of sparkling rubies and emeralds.

"Holy Merlin," Remus gasped. "Treasure!"

The trio stared at it.

Suddenly, the chest shimmered along with a nearby candlestick, and vanished with a pop. In its place was a pile of one-sided socks, all mismatched.

"Hey, that's my missing sock!" Remus said, snatching his favourite grey woolen sock from the pile and hugging it. "My mum made them for me out of alpaca wool. She always had a love for the creatures, for some reason."

Severus plucked one dark green sock from the pile. "I wondered where that sock went," he said, stashing it in his robes.

Hermione looked around in bemusement. "This is like… some kind of lost item limbo."

Remus stared a giant bowl of buttons and laughed. "Hey, remember how Regulus said he lost his favourite button from his traveling cloak? It was abalone shell shaped into a blackbird."

"Mmmhmm," Severus answered. He plucked a familiar-looking button out of the bowl. "Lost and found."

"Father gave him that for a lucky charm as a kid," Hermione said. "At night, it would glow so he wouldn't trip over things and bring the unholy wrath of our mother down upon the house."

Remus chuckled. "Better take that to him, Severus. I have the feeling we are allowed to take things from here if we genuinely wish to return them to the person to whom they belong."

Severus nodded. "I don't sense anything malevolent in the room itself."

A nearby coat rack disappeared, and in its place was a gaudy-looking lamp.

"Ugh," Remus said. "If I lost that, I'd be happy."

Severus poked the lampshade, which was scarlet velvet covered in bright yellow stars and yarn tassels. "I second that."

"Looks like something you'd see in Dumbledore's office," Hermione commented awkwardly.

"Or a brothel," Severus said sombrely.

Remus shot Severus a look.

"What?" Severus asked. "You saw that horrible decor on that last Animagus Rescue mission in Knockturn Alley."

Remus shook his head violently. "I was really trying very hard not to look."

Severus sighed. "I'm an eagle. While your nose was plastered to the floor, I had the bird's eye view."

"The smell wasn't all that great either," Remus complained.

Hermione shook her head and looked around some more. "Blue and white saddle oxfords… well one of a pair." She picked it up and flipped it over. "Hardly any tread used. Someone is unhappy."

"Hey, this is a wand!" Remus said, pointing on a table.

"That's Peter's wand," Severus said. "Remember how James and Sirius said they dipped the end in glow in the dark paint so he could find it in the dark?"

"More like so they could find it in the dark," Remus said.

Hermione frowned. "I cannot imagine losing my wand. Well and truly losing it, I mean. Confiscated is an entirely different story. I've seen the cabinet of wands Auror Moody has at the office."

"Hey, guys, look at this," Remus said, pointing to a piece of parchment on a dusty desk. It was sticking out of an old, worn photo album.

Curious, the three flipped through the album.

"Those two look like brothers," Remus said. "They have the same auburn hair and blue eyes."

Severus tapped his finger on one of the photos. "That must be their mother and possibly their sister."

"She doesn't look like the brothers," Remus boggled. "Her hair is blonde and her eyes are brown."

Hermione whapped them both upside the head. "Turn the pages. Maybe we can figure out who they are."

Remus looked sheepish, and flipped the pages.

"This picture looks…" Hermione's eyes widened when she flipped over the picture, and her voice trailed off. "Grindelwald," she whispered. "Gellert Grindelwald and Albus Dumbledore 1898."

Remus and Severus stared closer.

They began to flip over the pictures, hoping for more names and dates.

"Kendra Dumbledore, Percival Dumbledore," Severus listed. "Ariana and Aberforth Dumbledore."

"Headmaster Dumbledore has a brother?" Remus asked.

Severus arched a brow. "Apparently."

They continued to flip through and examine the photo album. Hermione tugged the parchment free and began to read it.

Dear Gellert,

Despite our best efforts, the reuniting of all of the Hallows seems to doomed to failure. Each time I think I have found a good lead, I find it to be yet another fruitless effort.

Our dream of a world where we can put an end to the International Statute of Secrecy and create a benevolent utopia to keep Muggles from hurting themselves or those such as my sister seems to remain frustratingly out of reach. I have heard that the Elder Wand may be located with a man named Gregorovitch, but while I have found the name, the location remains elusive. I have narrowed down the possibilities for the cloak of invisibility to a number of families, but, so far, which one is the one is still only a guess. I have no proof.

I know you want to take a more direct approach to finding the Hallows, but I beg you not to attempt to force the information out of people this early in the game. Give me time to see if I can acquire the information without the use of either threat or coercion.

Until we obtain all three Hallows, we cannot become the Masters of Death. We must be patient in our quest to achieve our ultimate goals.

I will contact you soon. It is not safe to owl you from where I am currently staying, but as soon as I am able, I will send it on to you. My apologies if this arrives to you quite late.

Sincerely,

Albus

"Eighteen ninety-nine," Severus said, tapping the parchment.

Fawkes gave a loud warble, and the trio dropped the album to pursue the egg-seeking phoenix. They found him deeper in the room, surrounded by lost coats, chairs, and a collection of fire-pokers.

"How do you lose a chair?" Severus boggled.

"How do you lose your fire-poker?" Remus countered.

Fawkes warbled from his haphazard perch on a chair quite a distance up in the air on a stack of chairs. The stack of chairs wobbled under the phoenix's weight.

"Climbing is not an option," Severus said as he eyed the wobbling stack. "And if we add more weight to the stack here, who knows what will come crashing down."

"We can't risk the eggs," Remus agreed.

Fawkes pecked near himself, and a magical barrier prevented his beak from getting past. The phoenix chirped his distress.

"Maybe we can help him help himself," Severus said. "If we dispel that barrier, he can grab his eggs and fly them to us. We won't have to climb up there to get them."

"I'd like to know how the Headmaster got them up there," Remus muttered.

"Maybe they didn't start up there," Hermione said thoughtfully. "Stuff in here appears and disappears randomly."

"We should hurry, in case something disappears or reappears, moving the nest somewhere else," Severus urged.

The trio nodded together.

"Let's sit here, in this clear space and link hands. We can meditate together and link up with Fawkes, using his eyes to see and dispel the barrier."

They sat together, clearing their minds, hands linked. At first, nothing happened, but after a few minutes, there was a strange vibration in the air and a faint popping sound followed by Fawkes giving a happy warble.

The trio looked up, and Fawkes was gathering round, metallic orbs in his mouth and flying down to them. He carefully placed them in their hands, then flew up to gather more. Back and forth the dutiful phoenix flew, carefully cramming eggs into his beak, and bringing them down to the trio. Egg after egg filled their hands until they were starting to get concerned about where to put them all.

"There has to be a box around here somewhere," Severus said with some concern."Surely the room wouldn't begrudge us taking a box or chest or something out for the phoenix eggs?"

As if the room seemed to understand them, a nearby gramophone disappeared and an ornately-carved mahogany box appeared in its place.

"Looks like my mum's old jewelry box that she kept all her treasures in," Remus said.

"Maybe it is your mum's old jewelry box," Hermione said. "Well let's open it and see if we can use it to put these eggs in for safekeeping."

Remus nodded and worked the latch of the box. He frowned as he looked in, then boggled. "Someone lost a bloody jeweled tiara," he complained. "How do you lose one of those things anyway?"

Hermione's head snapped up as Fawkes placed another egg in her hands. "Let me see, Remus, you're in the way."

Remus shuffled, being careful not to rattle the gathered eggs in his hands.

A sparkling silver diadem lay on velvet. A deep sapphire blue gem was mounted on the center.

"That's not a tiara, Remus," Hermione said very carefully. "That's the lost Diadem of Ravenclaw."

Remus and Severus almost dropped their eggs. "What?!"

"Careful," Hermione said. "If this is anything like my vision, that's a Horcrux."

Remus and Severus stared at it, swallowing hard and nodding to her.

Hermione closed her eyes a moment. She opened them after a minute and sighed. "This room wanted us to find it," she said. "Hogwarts is helping us. We'll find a way to deal with the Horcrux, but first things first. We need to protect Fawkes' eggs."

Severus pulled out his lost sock. "Remus let me have your sock."

Remus stuck out his foot.

Severus glared at him.

Remus startled, remembering. "Oh it's in my… give me a second." He cradled the eggs in his robes carefully, and fished out his lost and found sock.

Severus used both socks to lift the diadem out of the box and place it on the floor between them. "I'd rather not touch it, if that's alright with you," he said, warily eyeing the diadem.

Hermione nodded. She snatched up Remus' alpaca wool sock and placed it into the box. "Sorry, Remus. Your woolen sock is going to be a good cushion for the eggs. She pointed her wand at it. "Engorgio."

The woolen sock grew very large, enough to fill the bottom of the box.

Hermione carefully transferred the eggs into the box. When all the eggs seemed to be safely situated, she transformed into her phoenix form. Using her beak, she began to rip her downy feathers from her breast, using them to surround the eggs with loving care.

Severus winced as the ripping sounds affected him. Seeing the phoenix rendering herself partially nude was more than slightly disturbing.

Fawkes seemed to think it was a grand idea, and he, too, began to rip at his breast feathers, helping to line the box with warm phoenix down. Soon, the entire box was filled with eggs and multi-coloured down.

Hermione and Fawkes entwined necks briefly, staring down at the round eggs. Some were a shining gold, and some were a dull, flat, slate colour.

Fawkes chirped sadly at the slate-coloured eggs, hanging his head. Tears flowed down his beak, splashing down on the dull shells.

Hermione seemed caught up with the wave of phoenix emotion, and she, too, rained tears down upon the dull, slate eggs. Their combined tears flowed over the unhealthy-looking eggshells.

"Severus, look," Remus said. "The eggshells are changing."

Severus looked into the box past the two crying birds. Sure enough, the dull eggs were turning a mottled grey-gold where the tears hit them, before beginning to shift into a dull and then shining gold.

They stared as each phoenix cried over the eggs in a seemingly non-stop flow of healing tears. Fawkes rubbed his beak against Hermione's and their tears combined, sliding down their beaks and dripping down over the precious eggs.

The eggs glowed brilliantly as the sound of multiple tiny heartbeats resonated from within the box. The two boys stared with wonder, amazed anew at the sheer power of phoenix tears.

Fawkes and Hermione warbled together, spreading their wings as they perched on the side of the box. They sang, united, filling all who heard it with joyous celebration.

Fawkes hopped off the box and tapped the lid with his beak, and Severus obliged, placing the lid back in place. Hermione hopped off the rim to land by the diadem, staring at it with birdish intensity. Remaining tears flowed down the side of her beak and splashed onto the diadem with an audible splat.

Hermione squawked in surprise as the diadem trembled and began to scream, black smoke rising out of it where her tears had landed on the Horcrux.

Fawkes landed beside her, staring at the diadem with a quizzically cocked head. A few remaining tears trickled down his beak and onto the diadem's large, blue jewel.

The diadem screamed. Thick, black, acrid smoke billowed outward from the metal, forming into an impenetrable cloud of gut-twisting, vile, and utter wrongness. It was inherently unnatural. It was pure, unadulterated evil.

The cloud rose up in the room like a giant, touching the ceiling, and then it bore down on them in a rush of dark energy, as if aiming to smother them all to death under a crashing wave of sheer malevolence.

As the dark cloud descended, Fawkes let out a cry of pure rage, his body setting itself to bright white flames. He screamed, the sound sending a pulse of pure energy outward like a supernova. His wings fanned out magnificently like a thunderbird as his size seemed to grow. He perched on Severus' shoulder, but his wings and body covered all of them together with the white intensity of his protective flames.

He screamed again, and the pulse blasted outward in a blazing hot wind. Vivid white and blue flames vortexed around the three apprentices. The images of many, many, black-eyed and fluffy chicks filled their minds as Fawkes' righteous fury blasted outwards.

Even without words, the message was perfectly clear: protect family.

The blast of cleansing fire consumed the room, and the wrong, unnatural scream of dying evil was drowned out by the radiant light of Fawkes and his glorious song of love and purity.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

When the brightness faded, Severus and Remus loosened their mutual hug to protect Hermione who was protecting the box with her tightly-wrapped wings. Fawkes perched on Severus' shoulder and warbled casually as if nothing significant had happened. He tugged on Severus' hair, making it look unkept.

"It's gone," Remus said with wonder. He placed his hand over the diadem. "It's pure and clean again."

Severus too, cast his hands over it. "You're right. I feel magic in it, but it's not unnatural or corrupt in any way."

Hermione tilted her head and stared at it with her bird eyes. She warbled happily. Fawkes landed beside her, rubbing his head against hers.

"I think we need another box," Severus said with a little wonder. "Masters Barberry and McGonagall should see this at once."

There was a soft popping sound as a black-lacquered box fell from the ceiling and bonked Remus on the head.

"Ow!" he said, rubbing his head as the box fell into his lap.

Hermione and Fawkes looked upward and warbled together nervously.

Severus plucked the box up from Remus' lap and looked up. "Thank you," he said.

An ice-pack fell from thin air into Remus's lap.

Remus sighed, placing the pack against his throbbing head. He looked upward. "Thanks," he mumbled.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

A/N: Fawkes is not a slacker dad.