'Dear Tom, it was very frosty outside today. The last leaves were shivering on their branches, and the wind was chilling to the bones! I saw two squirrels dive into a hole in a tree stump this morning. It was almost as if they needed each other to weather the cold.'

'I suppose, conservation of heat and all, since they cannot wield a wand and cast a warming charm. It's pitiable, really.'

'And instead the poor critters have to rely on a companion, don't they?'

'Exactly. I've always felt sorry for those poor creatures out there that couldn't take care of themselves.'

'Me too, Tom… It's still nice and warm in the common room, though. Everyone's working hard on the project these days. I think Lady Ravenclaw would be proud of us. Did you know we actually have a statue of her watching over us in the tower?'

'I've heard something like it from one of the Ravenclaw prefects once, actually. It's a nice place you've got.'

'I wonder if there's something of the other founders in the other common rooms. Have you seen a statue of Slytherin in yours, Tom?'

'No, I've never seen one of him anywhere. How is your project going, by the way?"

'It's been really fun so far! We've been doing some more research today. Rowley found five more books that might be useful, and we haven't even finished going through the ones Gloria and I took out last time yet. We're going to have loads to write about!'

'Good luck with that, then, Sally. You know, you can also feel free to ask me if you need any help.'

'Thank you so much, Tom! I can't believe I almost forgot that you're a genius! I'll be sure to ask you if I think of anything. Goodnight for now, Tom!'

'Goodnight, Sally.'


"So Snape thinks that Lupin thinks something's off about me?"

Portrait-Salazar nodded, and ignored the chuckling of Portrait Godric on his right. "I don't believe Severus knows why. We should hope that I managed to distract him before he thinks too much on it."

In her Chamber, Hermione had just received a debrief from her portrait self about their new Defence professor. Remus Lupin was apparently an undiscovered werewolf since he was a first year – explaining why the boggart turned into a white orb for him, she supposed. Dumbledore had somehow ensured that he could transform each month without coming into contact with any students. He, like James Potter, was a part of the four membered trouble-making group that Portrait-Salazar had often observed. Unfortunately, the Marauders were not only pranksters but also bullies, and their favourite victim happened to be a young Severus Snape. They used to use the passage guarded by her portrait self quite frequently – understandably, since it was one of the four primary passages that lead straight to the entrance hall – but eventually stopped since Portrait-Salazar had gotten into the habit of muttering warnings to Snape as he passed. Hermione had raised an eyebrow at this, as she didn't think the Lupin she'd met seemed the type. But people could change with time and circumstance, obviously.

Hermione frowned. Despite her… puzzling boggart, she'd given no reason for Lupin to be extraordinarily curious about her except…"Something must've gone wrong with the obliviation."

The memory removal of a very particular portion of, but not the entirety of, a shocking event did tend to be the most difficult. Especially when one had to obliviate two people within two seconds. Some of Lupin's surprise might've remained even though he no longer remembered her patronus. That, coupled with the fact that certain magical creatures have a subconscious reaction to the magical cores of "threats" in their vicinity, may have been enough to incite Lupin's curiosity. "I suppose Lupin is asking the other professors about me, then. Do you think Lupin will forget about it if his inquiries turn up nothing unusual?" She asked the portraits.

"Most likely. Assuming that you didn't give him too much to go on, there shouldn't be a problem if no one else shared his opinion."

Hermione steepled her fingers. "McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout and the others should be fine. The most they'd say would be that I'm very well learned. Binns probably won't even remember there's been a 'Hermione Granger' in his class. Filch has no reason to believe that I was the invisible entity that Mrs. Norris nearly noticed sometimes. I would prefer that he doesn't talk to Dumbledore, but he probably won't go that far. The only one who might be a problem, I think, is…"

"Severus, yes," Portrait-Salazar steepled his fingers as well, "But Lupin already asked him and wasn't very well received, so I doubt they would talk again. I think you should be fine, unless we get very unlucky."

For now, it was just something to watch out for. But just in case it doesn't all blow over, now was also a good time to make sure she'd have a plan.

Remus Lupin … The soft-spoken professor really was a trouble maker.

"Tell me more about the Marauders?" Hermione asked.

"Ah, Moony, Padfoot, Wormtail, and Prongs. I only knew them by face and nicknames at first since that's how they address each other, but Moony was Remus Lupin and Prongs was James Potter. I suppose Sirius Black was either Padfoot or Wormtail, then, if he was best friends with Potter as they say. I never learned the name of the fourth boy either."

Hermione reminded herself to find a wanted poster of Sirius Black to "introduce" to Portrait-Salazar sometime.

"Oh, I've seen them come down to the kitchen to pilfer food often enough as well," said Portrait-Helga, "They remind me of the four of us."

"Except we had a much better ending than they did," Portrait-Rowena observed.

Portrait-Helga sighed happily. "We were perfect, weren't we? If only all friendship were like ours! It's too bad history got it all wrong. Sal getting driven away from Hogwarts over a falling out – pheh!"

"A lot of people try to attribute things to emotional causes even when there's none," Portrait-Salazar shrugged, "But I'm glad we finally had that detail cleared up last year, Sal."

Hermione nodded, staring into the lukewarm, perfectly controlled green flames in her stone fireplace. "Right. And everything else is progressing smoothly as well."

"You know, you could sound a little happier, Sal," Portrait-Godric chuckled, "This should be a lot of accomplishments in two years even for an inhumanly ambitious git like you. Let's see, you've already cleared your name. Your legacy is already steering back to what it's meant to be. Your magical training is coming along quickly, especially since you're growing up a little faster with time turning. And you're gradually getting on your feet finance-wise too. Didn't your store already break even?"

"It's to be expected, since we've just caught the fall shopping season and I really haven't invested a lot of gold there. And tomorrow I should have the business with the book settled as well," Hermione confirmed. "I'm very happy about that, believe me. I'm just thinking…"

Just now she'd been visited by an … indefinable feeling that was not entirely unfamiliar. What was it? It felt almost as if she was standing in a tall tower, observing the world below through a spyglass. And missing something important, but so very subtle...

"We'll keep an eye on Remus Lupin for you, if that's what you're worried about," Portrait-Rowena promised.

Was it something to do with Lupin or Snape that she'd been thinking of? Or Sirius Black, perhaps? Or perhaps it was a figment of her imagination.

Hermione bade the portraits goodnight. Maybe she'd sleep on that one.

The next day saw the much anticipated Hogsmeade visit. Harry and Ron were happily discussing what to buy at a sweets shop called Honeydukes even as they joined her at the Gryffindor table for breakfast. Fred and George were muttering about stink pellets. Neville was speculating about the Shrieking Shack, and wondered if they could see it together.

Maybe, Hermione had said, but she had to meet someone first.

The establishment called The Three Broomsticks was easy enough to find. At ten o'clock, Hermione carefully weaved among the diners until she came upon the tall woman who seemed to be just settling into the corner booth. "Good morning, Madam LeBlanc. My name is Hermione Granger."

The editor of Whizz Hard Books blinked with surprise. It seemed that whatever she'd gathered of 'Hermione Granger' from their correspondence, she was not expecting a thirteen-year-old.

"Pardon me, dear," Madam LeBlanc shook Hermione's hand, "I had thought you were a little… older, is all. I can see now why you asked to meet in Hogsmeade. Generally authors would come to our office."

"I understand that, madam. Thank you for agreeing to this arrangement." Hermione smiled respectfully. She could've met her in Diagon Alley, but she would have a harder time explaining herself later. Besides, she already knew Madam LeBlanc liked her manuscript from their letters.

"Oh it's hardly any trouble, dear," Madam LeBlanc's gaze softened a little, "you'll find that travelling becomes much easier after you get your apparition license. Er, a mulled mead for me please, Rosmerta,"

Hermione ordered a glass of gillywater for herself. Taking out her wand and setting up a sound dampening charm, she noticed Madam LeBlanc watching on with approval.

It would be a careful balance that she'd need to strike: a precocious child, but to be taken seriously. But still a youth nevertheless. Almost like asking for the three Master Peverells' apprenticeship again, she smiled to herself.

"Well, Miss Granger, I think a refreshing story like yours will be fairly well received if we sell it right," said Madam LeBlanc as she leafed through the carefully bound manuscript. Thus, the next hour or so was spent discussing ideas for promotion, after which the sharp-looking editor seemed quite impressed. Hermione herself was impressed that Lockhart's rambling had once again proven useful. It seemed the time she'd spent on him last year was paying off more than she could've hoped. Fortunately, none of these things involved the author making an appearance at first since, ironically, Madam LeBlanc wanted to "play up the intrigue around your identity. We should let your classmates figure out who wrote this book before we disclose your age," nodded the editor decisively, "With luck, rumours will start brewing and we can throw it out there as a shocker by confirming it."

Then they moved on to Hermione's idea for the book cover, which she'd actually hired a muggle to partially design over the summer. The artist didn't even bat an eye at the title, 'Journal of a Wandering Mage' – it was fiction, after all.

"Your 'Wandering Mage' is a strong, likeable character – good, good. Is there a reason why you named her Stella Leiter, I wonder?"

"It means 'star' and 'guide' in Latin and German respectively. I thought it sounded like an interesting name for a traveller." 'And hopefully a guiding star is what she'll be.'

And finally there was the matter of royalties, and the signing of contracts. Madam LeBlanc perhaps felt a little guilty about driving the bargain too hard, so Hermione ended up with a decent deal. "Best of luck, then, Miss Granger," said Madam LeBlanc after they paid the bill and shook hands again to depart, "Your payments will be deposited to your Gringott account."

Since her original vault was … rather inaccessible even for goblins, Hermione had opened a new account for all future money transfers. And the convenient thing about business in the magical society was that since many people were eligible to use more than one family name, contracts keyed directly to the magical signature. It actually didn't matter legally which name one signed with ink as long as it wasn't someone else's. Hermione smiled charmingly. "Thank you, Madam LeBlanc. It's been a pleasure."

As Hermione made her way out of the crowded pub, she noted that Professor Lupin, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Flitwick seemed to be having a fine time.


With a mug of butterbeer in hand, Remus was looking forward to a relaxing morning. Himself, Minerva and Filius had volunteered to escort the students to Hogsmeade this time. Merlin, he used to look forward to these visits as much as these children do. Hogsmeade visits for the Marauders had always been a time to replenish their stock of everything – chocolates, prank materials, alcohol, etc. James had always maintained that with their map and his invisibility cloak they could always come back covertly anytime they ran out, but it was still nice to do things properly.

But as a professor he had little to do in Hogsmeade now, and Minerva had suggested that they might as well make camp in the Three Broomsticks until it was time to go back. This option actually appealed to Remus more. It would be nice to catch up with his two favourite teachers from his own school days.

Just this pub itself filled him with nostalgia. How many times had he, James, Peter, and Sirius clinked frothing mugs of butterbeer, laughing over something or the other, in their usual corner booth…?

Today the corner booth was occupied by a surprising pair of people.

"… and when you've had the misfortune of assigning detentions to the Weasley twins, you'd know how we felt watching out for troublemakers like youself, Mr. Lupin," Minerva was saying, "Remus? Something on your mind?"

Remus smiled apologetically. "Just noticing Miss Granger's … associate." Remus knew that The Three Broomsticks was used as a setting for business lunches sometimes. And thus it was not entirely strange for students in higher years to be seen shaking hands with well-dressed strangers – good quidditch players meeting with scouts, most commonly. But one rarely see a third year student signing what seemed to be a contract with a stern-looking grey-haired lady, right?

"That's the editor from Whizz Hard Books," Filius squeaked when he turned in the direction Remus indicated. "Madam LeBlanc. I've met with her a few times about textbook matters."

"I wonder what business she has with Miss Granger?" Minerva set down her goblet of mead. "She's a very precocious lassie, that one."

"I've noticed," said Remus. And since they were on that topic, "Do you ever get the feeling that something just seem to set her apart?"

"Well of course," Minerva looked as if Remus had asked whether the sky was blue today, "she has the one of the highest grades in her year, and this year she's taken an interest in a wide variety of electives. Her essays are also generally well composed and well-reasoned. One of the brightest witch of her age, I would say."

"Yes, she reminds me a little of Lily in that regard," agreed Filius, "she has a clear talent in charms, and she always takes time to help her classmates as well."

"That's certainly true," Remus nodded. But that was all they noticed? Then what was that strange gut feeling about, then? Nervousness about teaching acting up?

Minerva and Filius then started to discuss the Head Boy Percy Weasley's endeavours to find a career opening in the ministry, so Remus put the matter out of his mind for now. Soon it was afternoon, and once Remus went and purchased some chocolate from Honeydukes it was time to take the students back to the castle. The Halloween feast was grand as Remus remembered, and seemed like the end to a perfect day.

That is, until he encountered a few frightened Gryffindors on his way up to his quarters. The Fat Lady's portrait had been slashed, and Peeves's cackles only scared the assembled students more.

Sirius was back.


A.N.: Last chapter Portrait-Salazar just distracted Severus when he brought up Sal. No obliviation was involved :)

Unfortunately I'm going to be very busy for the next four months, so this story will probably be on hiatus until September...