January, 1976.

Things got going soon after that vision. It barely took a day, before she found out that the Meadows had been barely saved, but she was thankful for it nonetheless.

Not only that, she was eating breakfast—just a light one, as she had the training with Moody right after—when a familiar grey, eagle owl let a high pitched scream, flying right towards her without a pause.

It almost knocked down Sirius's glass of orange juice, before it dropped the letter on the center of the table. She opened her mouth to stop it and give the beautiful owl a treat, but being one of the Malfoys, it obviously flew away without a look back.

Sirius snorted, but she gave him a glare that left him sporting a look of pure innocence. Her eyes back on the Slytherin coloured family crest, she felt a surge of excitement at the thought of what might've made Abraxas write to her.

After their talk through the Floo, she hadn't heard from him again and she'd been half-tempted to reach out to him first — something that she had never done in the duration of this . . . well, friendship, she supposed begrudgingly, holding back a grimace.

Merlin, at least it wasn't Lucius she was talking about.

Granger made a noise of disgust. It seemed that she won't be changing her mind on the Malfoys any time soon.

In the meanwhile, Hermione should hurry up and read the letter, because Sirius had been eyeing it like a piece of meat in the past three minutes.

She reached for it, her eyes flickering towards her friends and making sure no one was too interested in the contents — not as much as Sirius anyways — and she settled back in her seat.

Hermione hoped she could read the letter, summarize it to her brother and leave out the details she hadn't yet talked about with him.

Once she'd made sure that he was preoccupied with his plate of eggs, she opened the seal and slid the letter between her fingers. She could almost smell that same scent she'd caught from the Manor; lavender and something elegant.

Hermione,

Forgive me, if I'm late to reach out to you. I admit I wasn't planning on doing it soon, but recently I've been told that there's a chance of a cure to be made, to whatever my unfortunate illness may be. So allow me to be self-assertive and believe that this news might alleviate some of your worries - perhaps, even motivate you to write to me first.

Who am I fooling? Next time, I'll make sure not to wait for you too long.

Moving onto much serious matters, are you doing well, little Black? Has anything been done about your training? If not, I'm sure you know Lucius will be willing to help you out himself. Nonetheless, it seems that somehow, Dumbledore . . . no, you were able to stop the first comeback of the Dark Lord. I am pleased to know that you are able to help that old fool, as he surely wouldn't have figured anything out by himself. Speaking of the Dark Lord, Lucius told me that he recently visited a certain place by himself, a Muggle one I believe - but with no attacks. I will let you know if there's more information on it, but in the meanwhile, do try hard to get some meat on those limbs, you weakling. Even if that Professor of yours is making a group, he'll surely add those good for nothing. I am sure that you are what the Wizarding world needs.

Take care,

Lord Malfoy.

She already had her quill and fresh piece parchment out, by the time she finished the letter. It seemed that the letter had been written immediately after the attack scare, so he deserved an answer just as quickly.

(You're still) Lord Malfoy (?),

I can't begin to tell you how pleased I am to hear from you. I was beginning to consider making a surprise visit to the Manor, though Narcissa dear might feel a bit threatened, if she were to hear of that. Anyways, I am serious when I say that I'm glad to hear that you've finally done something about that illness of yours. I won't say I was scared for you or anything like that . . . just pitied your son.

Oh, who am I kidding? Please do take care, Abraxas. You and your old coot beliefs have grown on me, so I am not letting you go anytime soon.

And me? I am doing just fine. My Legilimency barriers remain strong and don't worry - training is about to start today. Professor Dumbledore took his time, but it was to find the right person for me! Unlike you, who would offer your son . . . as if he was better than me!

I apologize for sounding so - er, insensitive to my own safety? and I promise you, I'll do my best to become the best witch Voldemort will ever stand before in his lifetime.

Lastly, I haven't been told of any group, but I'll make sure to find out about it soon. Thank you for all the help and make sure that you find the cure, or I'll make one myself!

Take care,

Hermione Black.

By the time she'd finished up her letter, the boys had left for Hogsmeade, convinced that she was staying back to catch up on some more work — as if Hermione could have any more left. The very little project that had been left was already handed in, all thanks to the assistance from Granger.

Now though, it was time to do something she wasn't very good at; physical activities were a pain. And as she walked away from the table and crossed the room towards the entrance, she could feel her limbs shake in fear, embarrassment or a mix of both.

Still, Hermione couldn't deny that she felt hopeful. Not the kind that made her exceptionally optimistic, like everything in the world would now go right, but the kind where she could finally vision little, but concrete things falling into place like she'd actually wished for.

She had never thought that this surge of hope would come at this very right moment, but even the small experience of it lit her body with a determination that had her almost skipping to the Room of Requirement.

Whether it was due to the reunion with Reg, or the usual but still heartwarming letter from Abraxas, she did not know and she found that this was one of those questions where she wouldn't mind if the answer to it could be both at once.

She hadn't realized how far her feet had taken her, but she wasted no time in checking the time and asking to enter whichever room her trainer had created for them. When two large doors formed, she grasped the knob and turned it, entering the room wide-eyed.

Unexpected as it may be, she had to bite her lips from letting out a loud gasp at the sight that greeted her eyes: large floors that seemed to be never ending, white walls that appeared to be far-away and yet close enough that she could touch them.

Simple and practical, just as she guessed Moody liked it. Finding the wizard no more than a few meters away from her, her mouth set into a confident line and she wasted no time in saying, "Thank you for everything."

The tough man grunted, frown set deep and yet, not as sharp or mean as Walburga's would've been. "Haven't done anything yet. You'll need to do much more work before you thank me for it."

Slightly frustrated at the response, but motivated nonetheless, she nodded firmly and moved closer to the board that had appeared all of the sudden.

In large capitals, there was written the word, 'Exercise.' Below, a number of stretches, workout routines alternating each day were written, along with magical drawings that showed the effect and change it will bring on her legs, arms and torso.

"Despite what you may believe, knowing each spell isn't everything. A good wizard or witch needs to know how to move swiftly around their opponent, be able to handle more than one without a wand."

She turned around to face him, arching a brow. "Without a wand?"

He nodded, waving his hand at the board. More drawings were then shown — they were the methods of fighting that Muggles used!

"Ever decked someone, lass?" he asked, almost mocking her, which only added fuel to make her nod, too proud for her own good.

Amos had deserved it, she reminded herself.

"And did you hurt your knuckles?"

She smiled weakly and relented, "I did — no matter how strong the punch may have felt at the time."

He seemingly bit back a sarcastic reply, instead went back to his lecture. "Often in battles, you are going to lose your wand. It is necessary that you are capable of using your strength in any way possible. Certain wizards are dim headed enough to think of Muggle ways as lowly, but it's an advantage - a skill that you need."

She hadn't realized how enthusiastically she'd nodded along each word he'd said, so focused into grasping the importance of Muggle defence.

She was close to shaking in trepidation, when he let out a low chuckle and said, "Dumbledore told me of how eager of a student you are, so if you are wondering what you're starting with today . . . don't waste any time in starting twenty laps around this room."

Needless to say that she couldn't protest much, before the room got exceptionally larger, like a nightmare that left her running in a pool of sweat.


Her skin scathing hot, she was sure she looked like quite a vision. Only thing he ever mentioned after the last, painfully laggy lap was that she needed to stop being slower than a Flobberworm. She felt insulted, but more than that - she felt like she'd been challenged and she needed to get fit like it was the last thing she'll ever do.

After a few stretches to make sure she won't be extra sore the following morning—all according to him, but she believed the opposite—Moody told her to practice each necessary Charm and Curse learned over the course of her past DADA classes, dating back to her very first year at Hogwarts. So with a brain more active than ever, she showed him perfect wand motions.

Once Moody's shield was put in place, she began with Flipendo, a spell that was intent on knocking back the target. Expelliarmus, Petrificus Totalus, Riddikulus, and Stupefy didn't work either, but she threw the spells at him regardless, to show him that she did know them. Impedimenta and Reducto were the last ones she showed, the latter being a spell that she'd learned only recently.

He seemed to be holding back an approving comment, instead allowing only a small word to pass through his lips, "Decent."

If he had anything else to say, he wasn't able to voice it as a lynx Patronus appeared out of nowhere, circling around Moody. She almost stumbled back when a voice came out of it, urging the Auror to come back to the Department and do his job.

"Kids these days have no respect," the old man grumbled, waving his wand around to gather his belongings.

"I have never seen a Patronus talk," she told him in awe, eyes still wide even as the feline disappeared through the walls.

He shot her a glance. "Yes, well. Albus taught us a fast way to communicate—"

"Us? Is it a new group? Have you formed a group to fight Voldemort?"

The wizard seemed close to silencing her with a charm, and as soon as she shut her mouth, he glared at her and began, "Lass! Walls have ears, don't you know? And whoever your source may be, don't trust foolish rumours like that . . ."

She stared at him defiantly and he cleared his throat, looking away. "Now leave before I do."

Hermione wanted to argue, she really did but that would have been inappropriate, that too on the first day. She'd have to get more information out of him in the future.

"Okay — thank you for today. I'll make sure to do these exercises like you told me to," she promised and when she sensed that she'd already lost his attention, she whirled around and moved towards her entrance. Despite the sweat that rolled down her limping body, she thought that training was not hard. It was going to be worth it.


"Did you plan a trip to hell without me, or what?" Sirius had his head tilted to the side, looking quite put out.

She stifled a smile and when she tried to stretch her arms, she couldn't hold back a wince at the soreness that had already overcome her body.

"Studying for O.W.L.s. is going to be hard," she commented evasively and let her body lean against the cold surface of the wall behind her.

He snorted. "I'll never know what it's like."

"Not if I force you by being extremely gross. Do you want me to take advantage of being so sweaty right now?" she commented lightly, though her eyes were narrowed at the mere idea of Sirius not studying for such important exams!

That's how he is, Granger sighed, but Hermione wanted to say that no, not if she had any say in it.

"And you say I'm the dog!" he gasped wide-eyed and she laughed, purposefully walking close to him with slow steps.

She plopped down on the mattress and said, "We're both dogs, stupid!"

He began to push her away from the soft bed, forcing her to sit on the freezing floor instead. "Get off my bed, stupid, and tell me what Malfoy said to cheer you up so much."

She plastered a big smile on her face, craning her neck to show it to him. "He said that they're looking for a curse for him. I — he also believes that I saved the Meadows," she snorted with a shake of her head. "All I did was sit back and watch what could have happened."

He stared at her with a glaring gaze, offended that she'd talked badly about herself. "Had you not been there, they wouldn't have known who to save, Cub. Stop putting yourself down — it's not like the Hermione I know."

He immediately shifted into Padfoot and hopped down the bed, joining her on the floor with his tail wrapped around his legs as he sat down close to her. She pet his long, black fur and smiled. "You're right. It's time to get things going."

She then wasted no time in shifting into Cub as well, joining her brother in some well deserved cuddles.

That's how the rest of the boys found them, two dogs giving each other comfort. Hermione, who was worried for what Voldemort's plans were, and Sirius, who was worried for what his sister was getting into.


A/N: Sorry for the delay. My mental health has not been doing great, so I apologize if this affects future updates too. Other than that, thank you so much for over 300 follows and 100 reviews! I can't express how grateful I feel for the support you've given me and this story. Thank you so much.