"I wish it wasn't raining," Harry sighed morosely over his toast. "It's not going to be at all pleasant playing in this."
Hermione looked up from her volume of Unfogging the Future to meet Harry's eyes. He seemed was normally giddy before a Quidditch match, almost as if the only time he felt at home was on a broomstick. But Oliver had been putting so much pressure on Harry in particular. She understood this was his last year and he wanted to have something to leave behind, but she didn't like the pressure he put on his youngest team member. And the position of Seeker was so important to victory Hermione wondered at times what the point of the other players was. Oliver seemed to think this too with how hard he'd been driving him.
Those glasses, he won't be able to see a thing...
"I'm sure it'll be fine," Hermione smiled, setting her coffee aside.
"She says that but Ginny reckons you're rooting for Ravenclaw," Ron teased grabbing her book.
"I am not!" Hermione snapped. "Of course I want-wait, what?"
Ron smirked handing her back the volume. "She's just sore about you giving your monser's kitten to Luna instead of her."
Shit, Ginny loves cats..."Crookshanks isn't a monster, Ron-" Hermione sighed.
"Could've fooled me," he grumbled.
"An-and It's not like I wasn't thinking about her, I just-erm-she's you know, pretty and popular and Luna, well, Luna doesn't really have anyone, does she? And besides, she's-well-erm-she's Luna."
"And on a scale of one to ten how jealous is Hiro-kun of Luna?" Ron flicked her nose.
"Wha-what?" Hermione felt warmth flush into her cheeks and she clutched her bracelet. "I didn't-"
"Merlin, Hermione, I'm just teasing," Ron said. "The way you'll actually put aside your reading to read and re-read his letters all breakfast, I know you like boys. Specifically that boy. He doesn't like you too, does he?"
"What's that supposed to mean?" Hermione snapped, unsure what to be more offended by.
"Well," Ron shrugged, his ears turning pink. "I mean, you do like boys, right? But I mean you're also so far away from him and you're-you're well-you're not exactly a Veela."
"Well, Ron," Hermione seethed. "Some boys might be willing to settle on a "six-out-of-ten" as you so generously put it last year. Yes, Hiro and I are seeing each other. And on top of being gentle and kind and twice the wizard you'll ever be, he actually likes me. I'm sorry that someone liking a night troll like me offends you so!"
"Calm down," Ron snapped. "I didn't mean it like-"
"And" Hermione said before she could stop herself. "It just so happens that I like boys and girls. I'm sorry your view is so fucking narrow!"
"Hermione," Harry said in a small voice.
Harry stared at her, his thin face pale and green eyes wide as if something completely had taken him aback. Hermione didn't know if it were surprise of judgement or if there was something she didn't pick up on.
She looked back at Ron, he glared at her. Like with Harry, she didn't know if it was her reaction or her truth that made him so angry. It hit her once again that she didn't belong. She was just something they dealt with out of use. Harry and Ron risked their lives with and for her, but that was only because they were good people. She wasn't and she didn't belong. Guilt crushed her chest like a pressing stone as she tried to think of a way to fix things.
Why? They're judging you for being bi. Ron was mean. He should apologize. He should fix...no, he might be right about you not being good enough for Hiro, and Ron's being generous when he says your a 'six-out-of-ten'. Fix things now, you stupid piece of shit!
"Hermione," Harry said again, softly. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Hermione sighed, collecting herself. "Harry, give me your specs."
"Wait, don't punish me because Ron's a git!" Harry pleaded.
"Hey!" Ron shouted.
"It's true, mate," Harry shrugged.
"I'm not punishing you," Hermione sighed grabbing them from off his face.
"Hey!" Harry said.
"Impervius," she cast quickly before handing them to back to him. "Now the rain won't fog them up so you can see during the match."
"Oh," Harry gingerly placed them back on his face. "Erm, thanks, Hermione."
"Not at all," she shrugged, standing and clasping her book to her chest. "I have to go. Good luck today, Harry."
"But-"
"See you."
"Are you tired or distracted?" Severus asked as Hermione's patronus fizzled out once more.
Hermione shrugged and tucked her wand back into her robes. "I've just been tired lately, I guess. Loads of work in my classes. I'm not remotely prepared for the OWLs."
"And it has absolutely nothing to do with the row you had with Potter and Weasley this morning?" he asked placing his hand on her head.
"Row?" Hermione forced a laugh and turned to Archimedes. "We were just teasing each other."
It looked more heated than that from my angle, he thought. "Now, why do I doubt that?"
Hermione kept her eyes on the owl, petting his head, Archimedes closing his eyes and chirping happily. Had Hermione a task he knew she would be focusing on that instead. Anything to avoid his criticisms of her poor choice of friends. She wasn't a terribly open child, and he wondered why he tried when it was like pulling teeth. Were she attending another school he wondered if he would know a single thing about her life.
No, her time in Mahoukatoro proves she doesn't see fit to give me any details on her life...Must everything be a secret? Do other parents deal with this? Perhaps, they probably just don't know their children are lying to them.
"If you're not going to listen, I won't waste my breath pressing the issue," he sighed. "But I do believe your chosen circle of friends is incredibly unhealthy."
"Honestly, Dad," Hermione sighed, turning to face him. "Things are fine."
"Fine?" he raised an eyebrow. "I remind you that you haven't a single healthy relationship outside of the family. I would hardly call that fine."
"Dad," Hermione clasped her hands together and inhaled deeply, staring at him desperately. "I am begging you to drop this."
There was that look of sheer disappointment once again. Those doe-like eyes could communicate volumes without Hermione needing to say a single word. Pensiveness, eagerness, and curiosity set a sparkle to them, and anger, especially at perceived injustices, lit a flame within them. Than sadness and disappointment cast a dull look of resignation with the faintest spark. As if she desperately wanted to cling to some hope, but knew better than to do it. A look he had been introduced to before she could read. It was just so much more frequent these days.
"Evidently my input on the matter is of low import to you, so I shall," he said.
"It's not-" Hermione sighed. "Thank you."
And you wonder why she's chronically disappointed in you?! Severus chided himself. You stupid piece of shit!
"Try it again," he instructed. "Given your tendency to hyperfocus, it should be easy for you to focus on one happy memory." And you think you're better than her biological parents because...? No, I'm certain she'd be dead long before now if I didn't take her in.
"Yes, sir," she nodded, grabbing her wand.
"Hermione, I-"
Severus was interrupted by an urgent rapping on his office door. He rubbed his temples and sighed wondering how many times this had happened. Patting Hermione's head, he sighed and answered the door.
Lupin stood in the doorway clutching a stitch in his chest and breathing heavily.
"Is it Black?" he whispered. "Was there a sighting?"
Lupin shook his head and his pale green eyes drifted from him to Hermione. "There was an accident on the Quidditch Pitch. I thought it only right she knows."
"An accident?" Hermione squeaked popping out from behind him. "What happened. Was there an attack? Did he just fall? Demenotors? Oh, god, is Harry-is he-"
Severus wrapped his arm around Hermione's shoulders and ran a hand over the top of her head. "Potter's status, now."
"He's injured, unconscious," Lupin said, looking back and forth as if unsure whether to address the father or daughter. "Dementors attacked at the-"
"Will the boy live?" Severus cut him off looking at Hermione's pale little face.
"Yes," Lupin nodded. "Harry-"
"Did the dementors Kiss him?"
"No, Severus, Dum-"
"Is he in a coma or will there be lasting brain damage?"
"He was attended to quick enough for that not to be an issue," Lupin informed them.
"You rushed here to tell Hermione that Potter suffered an accident in which he suffered no lasting damage?" he spat.
"Erm, I-" he bit his lip and looked down. "Yes."
"Tell me, Lupin," he growled. "Do you delight in tormenting little girls in general or is it just my daughter you relish in terrifying?"
Hermione stepped away from him and towards Lupin. "I did want to know, Professor," she nodded. "Thank you." Hermione then turned to face him with clasped hands. "I'm going to go see him."
"Yes, of course," he answered placing his hand on Hermione's head. "Lupin, I'd like to speak with you afterwards."
"Of course, Severus," he nodded.
Severus watched the two of them leave together with unease. It didn't escape his notice that his daughter grew more tense and as Lupin explained what transpired. He still wasn't sure how he felt about Lupin...or how close he seemed to be growing to Hermione.
"Lupin told me everything," Hermione told Ron.
Ron looked up from Harry's bedside and ran his hands through his flaming hair. "Pomfrey reckons Harry'll be just fine. He told you about the dementors?"
Hermione nodded looking at the scrawny, unconscious boy in the bed. Harry towered over her, but he seemed so fragile and small at that moment that Hermione wondered if Lupin and Ron were quite honest with her. She shook the thought from her head. Lupin might not yet have her trust, but Ron wouldn't lie about the condition of his best friend. She knew there was nothing she could do for Harry, but set aside her own unease as she pondered on the best way to comfort Ron.
"It was actually really cool," Ron offered.
Hiro might just be the only boy I know who can show an once of vulnerability...Don't chastise him, Harry's suffered no lasting damage...Neither did you and you still have nightmares without falling from midair...Hermione clasped her hands to calm herself. "Oh?"
"Yeah," Ron nodded. "Dumbledore was so angry. I thought he was going to hurt someone. He shot these silver things at the dementors and they scarpered off like-" he moved his hands. "Whoosh!"
"Dumbledore cast a patronus?" Hermione couldn't stop herself from asking. "What form did it take?" Shut up! Your best friend is in hospital, what is wrong with you, you stupid little girl!
"Erm," Ron shrugged. "Just tendrils and wisps. But they were huge and before Harry fell, he caught the snitch."
"So Oliver won't kill him, then, eh?" Hermione forced a smile.
"Don't reckon so," he said. "And the Ravenclaw Seeker was so upset. She threw her broom down and stomped off!"
"Cho Chang doesn't handle disappointment well," Hermione commented. "And I think she got into a fight with her best friend earlier this week."
"Oh, are you two friends?" Ron asked awkwardly. "Or do you f-"
"They got into a spat when Marrietta assumed Cho spoke Japanese," Hermione shrugged. "Can't stand Cho, but I feel the slightest bit of solidarity Asian-girl solidarity after being told I had 'hateful Korean eyes' this summer."
"You're half-Korean?" Ron said intrigued. "I think Fred, George and I and I all lose the pool."
"You made bets on my ethnicity?" Hermione hissed, scandalized. "Why would you-How? What the-how could-I-why-I-"
That was unfair when Hermione herself had no idea. There was the image in the Mirror of Erised with the Korean-Japanese man and Black woman who both looked enough like Hermione for her to maybe think they were her biological parents. But her father also never said she was adopted, she just assumed she was an adoptee. Maybe an international adoptee, but she wasn't sure. But how could her friends even-Calm the fuck down, you've tolerated worse from Ron. Much worse. But it still felt like a betrayal.
"The twins started it!" Ron insisted.
Harry stirred at that moment, thankfully, looking around as he groggily reached for his glasses. "I thought I heard you two arguing. What happened? Oh, I don't know how I'm going to apologize to Oliver..." he moaned.
"You don't have to, mate" Ron smirked. "You caught the snitch! We won!"
"That is music to my ears," Harry sighed in relief. "I was certain Oliver was going to skin me alive!"
Honestly! Hermione thought. He was just attacked by dementos and fell metres from the sky and that was his concern? She rolled her eyes before perching herself on the foot of his bed. He looks...haunted. Maybe he's putting on a brave face?
"Are you alright?" Hermione asked.
Harry nodded. "Yeah. Don't fancy doing it again, but I'm fine. Did you scream? I thought I heard a girl or woman scream..but I also heard..."
Hermione shook her head and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Sorry. When I was attacked by dementors the first time-" she inhaled deeply. "I-erm-I heard voices. Dad says they make you relive your worst fears and regrets."
"What's yours?" Ron elbowed her. "A test with a nine out of ten?"
Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed before turning back to Harry. "My point is that I-erm-I know my worst memory is nowhere near as bad as yours, but I know what it's like to be attacked by them. It's-if you-erm-need to talk or-erm-anything-I'm sorry they attacked you."
"I'm fine, Hermione," Harry shrugged. "Really. Now that we made it to the next round, I'm just looking forward to practising so that doesn't happen."
Ron looked down awkwardly, fiddling his hands. "It-erm-might be a while before you do that, mate. I'm really sorry. But your Nimbus 2000, it flew into the Whomping Willow and -erm-well, that tree doesn't forgive if you remember." Ron pointed to his bedside table.
Harry turned to the lump of splinters, face pale and eyes wide. "It's-it's splinters!"
"Oh, Harry," Hermione said. "I'm so sorry."
"How am I supposed to play Quidditch without a broom!" Harry moaned.
Hermione had to remind herself that it wasn't just a broom to Harry. Quidditch wasn't just a sport. It was his Mercury or Herald. The first time he felt like his efforts meant anything, the first time he felt equal instead of less-than or like he had to live up to expectations outside of his control. Harry was a team member, and that broom was the first time a grown-up ever expressed having faith in him. She hated herself for wanting to judge him for being concerned about Quidditch.
"I'll see if I can find a way to fix it," Hermione offered staring at what amounted to kindling without the first idea of how to.
Harry turned to her with a gleam of hope in his bright green eyes and colour returned to his face. "Can you?"
Hermione's stomach churned. "I can try." she squeaked.
"Hermione mentioned a dog," Severus said.
Lupin clenched his jaw and stared out the rain-drenched window. "She didn't mention it when she told us what happened."
Yes, my daughter does tell me things from time to time. You expect her to trust you because...? "Is it so hard to believe she needed time to process everything that happened?"
Lupin sighed running a hand through his greying, mousy hair. "Is she alright?"
"You mean after her attack two days ago or after you nearly gave her a heart attack?" Severus raised an eyebrow and leaned against the corridor wall, folding his arm.
"I didn't mean to-"
"Perhaps next time-because Potter will put himself in the hospital again-"
"He was attacked by dementors, Severus," Lupin reminded him.
"Yes, if only there were several capable adults in the area that could have helped him. Or were they relying on a little girl too?"
Lupin shuddered, perhaps feeling adequate guilt over sleeping through the demenotor attack while Hermione was left to fend for those inside the compartment. He still wondered why the dementors specifically targeted that department. Part of him wanted to trust Lupin, but he was ready and willing to embrace that as evidence of guilt. Why do I want to trust you? You've done nothing but harm...
"I don't look back at sleeping through the attack with fondness, Severus," Lupin turned to him. "I endangered Harry and his friends. I feel incredible guilt over it."
"Is that all she is to you then?" Severus glared at the frail man. "One of Harry Potter's little friends? Here I was thinking you just might gave a damn about her."
Lupin shot daggers at him and spoke very deliberately. "You've made it plenty clear that you don't want that you think that the only room you think she has for any kind of relationship her life is the one she has with you."
"That is not true!" he seethed. "She has plenty of friendships, a boyfriend she thinks I know nothing of, and despite my best efforts she's seemed to have forged a connection with you-though I do think that's highly inappropriate."
"And how many of them do you actually approve of?" asked Lupin.
Absolutely none of them...he wasn't going to say that, but it was true. Hermione was far too young to have a romantic relationship, and her friends? It was as if she sought out those that would completely take her for granted, at best. A renewed urgency to discuss the exact nature of her relationship with the Yamato boy surfaced. Given everything that had happened and the fact that eleven months of the year they could only correspond made it less urgent in his mind, but looking at her patterns, it was important to address it before he sent her to Japan.
"That's what I thought," Lupin said.
He realized that he'd been silent for some time. How did the conversation turn here? He wanted information on the damn dog and now Lupin stared at him with that morally superior disgust Gryffindors were so apt to have. It was clear Lupin thought Severus was an unfit parent and he could feel the judgement coming from him. After years of torment how could he stand there and judge him?
"The damn dog, Lupin," he snapped. "What do you know?"
"Why do you assume I know anything?!" Lupin spat. "I'm sorry for what's passed, but we were children. And I wasn't a part of much of it. What have I done to you since?"
"'Wasn't part of much of it'? You were complicit!" Severus hissed. "Should your memory be imperfect I am happy to remind you that you didn't just stand idly by when Potter and Black exposed me as intersex. I seem to recall you joining in the mockery. Not just at the time, but for the next two years you relished in the 'hermaphrodite' jokes. Do you recall asking me if I could impregnate myself?"
"Severus," the edge to Lupin's voice was gone and the self-righteous fire in his pale green eyes vanished. "I'm sorry. I know it can't have been easy but I-we- Severus, we were children."
"So was I."
"Growing up as a werewolf I-"
"Got to keep your secret!" Severus barked. "No one knew about it outside of your friends and myself. You were never ostracized, humiliated or dehumanized on a daily basis. It was hard to endure before that but after-you have no idea what I had to go through!"
"No," Lupin admitted, staring at his feet. "I don't. I'm sorry, Severus. You-erm-you should know-"
"All I want to know is whether or not you know anything about the damn dog Black has with him and if it can help finding him!" Severus spat.
Lupin, eyes still firmly on his feet, weakly shook his head. "I don't. Sorry."
"Then we're done here."
Hermione dried the ink on her Ancient Runes homework and grabbed the library's copy of Spells affecting Spells: a Guide to Metamagics. She took to the chapter on the potion that would allow her to see spells. After weeks of brewing and swiping materials while she did inventory, it was finally ready. She just had to apply the drops to her eyes and cast the spell. She carefully reviewed the text to ensure everything was correct, and ensured the Gryffindor Common Room was empty.
The grandfather clock chimed twelves for midnight, echoing off the scarlet drapery and grey walls. It felt incredibly lonely, but Hermione was used to being alone. And this was the best time to figure out what Crookshanks sensed was "wrong" with Scabbers. All she had to do was sneak into the boy's dormitory without waking a soul and see where Scabbers slept.
"Can I trust you to behave, Crookshanks?" she asked the cat curled up in her lap.
Crookshanks took the hint and headed up the stairs to the girls' dormitory. He apparently trusted her to handle this herself. That was good, if Crookshanks attacked Scabbers, Ron would surely wake. And the unravelling friendship between them would surely come completely undone.
Hermione took in a deep breath and dropped the rainbow coloured fluid into her eyes. A tingling sensation moved through her eyes and down her ocular nerves. She bit her lip and dug her nails into the back of her hand to silence herself. It wasn't particularly painful, but it was uncomfortable enough to need to regulate herself. She shut her eyes for a moment then blinked as she surveyed her surroundings.
A green glow emitted from the portraithole and the stairs to the girls' dormitory glowed blue-protective enchantments are blue, life granted by magics like sentient paintings were green. She thought she was getting a hang of it. All she had to do now was sneak into the boys' dorm. She took a deep breath and crept barefoot to the third-year boys' dormitory.
"Silencio," Hermione whispered, tapping the door to keep it quiet.
Hermione slinked into the room with baited breath. A yellow aura emitted from the poster of the Cannons by Ron's bed. She couldn't find Scabbers, he must have been in bed with Ron. Damn it, Ron has to make this as difficult as possible, doesn't-
Hermione's thoughts were interrupted by the strong blue aura eminating from the bed beside Ron's. Even through the curtain, the protection spell was overpowering. Had Harry not enclosed himself she felt it would have been blinding.
Wait, she squinted and spied more than just the blue of Lily Potter's protection spell. Ungelating shades from the spectrum of the rainbow danced in thin wisps around the blue aura. As if Harry were a being of magic plain and simple. She wondered what other spells enchanted him unbeknownst to him. She stared at the aura, puzzling at the aura until she heard a creak from behind her.
Shit! Hermione dove under Ron's bed, peaking out from under the blankets. Pressed against the cold stone floor Hermione wondered who was entering. Perhaps Neville had to use the toilet? Her theory was proved wrong when she saw the silhouette of a man with a faint violet aura surrounding him. He had straggly, long black hair and unkempt facial hair. He was perhaps her father's hieght, and damn near emacia-Sirius Black!
What was worse, he held a knife gleaming in the moonlight.
His foot steps echoed as he approached.
Move, you stupid little bitch! Hermione chided herself, but the blood froze in her veins and she couldn't move. The air refused to move from her lungs, her hand refused to reach for her wand. The only movement was the pounding of her heart, threatening to burst from her chest. Black shoes outlined from the violet aura now were inches away from her face.
The brass rings slid across the the metal rail. He must have thought it was Harry's bed, she thought. She wasn't sure of anything but that her friend was in danger and she could only manage to tremble.
Maybe when he sees it's the wrong person he'll leave, Hermione hoped desperately as a lump formed in her throat. She had to grab her wand, she had to do something. Even her voice betrayed her; she couldn't even force a scream from her open mouth.
"There you are, you little bastard," a gravelly voice whispered with contempt.
Why do you want Ron?! Hermione pleaded silently. Stop!
Hermione couldn't scream, but Ron did. A terrified shout echoed off the round walls as the curtain fell down with the rod clattered to the floor. A violet and black blur shot out from the bedside and out the door. Hermione wasn't sure what she saw, but soon light flooded the room and confused voices broke the silence.
"Maybe it was a bad dream?" Neville suggested.
"Look at his curtains, Neville," Harry insisted. "You said he had a knife?"
"Yeah," Ron gasped, still trying to catch his breath. "He rose his knife, I woke up and screamed and he scarpered...but why-why did he scarper?"
Silence filled the room once more and while they must have been deep in thought a woman with a violet aura in a tartan dressing gown entered the room. It was McGonagall, but why did she have a transfiguration aura? She's an animagus...Is Sirius Black an animagus too? Hermione wondered.
Behind the old woman was a band of panicked and curious girls in pink dressing gowns. Lavender, Pavarti and Ginny at the front of the crowd staring wide-eyed at the boys.
"Perhaps it was a nightmare, Mr. Weasley?" McGonagall asked in frustration.
"No, he was here!" Ron protested. "SIRIUS BLACK HELD A KNIFE OVER ME!"
"How would he even get in to Gryffindor Tower, Weasley?"
"I-" Ron started and grew quiet. "I'm not sure. But, Professor, he was here."
You're not in danger anymore, just let yourself get in trouble...sure all the boys will think you're creepy, but everyone hates you anyway. Corroborate Ron's story. She has to know! Hermione still couldn't move. You useless, stupid, little piece of shit!
"Wait," McGonagall said picking up a piece of parchment from the floor. Her nostrils flared and she suddenly sounded even more Scottish than usual. "Which one of you bold fools wrote the passwords down for the past three weeks?!"
Neville turned a bright pink and nervously raised his hand in the air. "I-I d-did, P-Professor McGonagall."
"You-you," McGonagall choked. "I'm going to speak with that useless knight to see if he let him in. We will talk about this in the morning, Longbottom! Now, I suggest you girls go back to your dorm and you boys go to sleep."
They all did so. Lights went out and Hermione was left under the bed, sure she would have to be there until everyone left for breakfast. Hermione eyed the time-turner around her neck. If she went back, perhaps she could stop Black from reaching the room. Head him off at the common room. Or the Entrance Hall. Maybe she could scream loudly and attract Filch's attention. She would get in trouble, but they'd be closer to catching Black. Maybe she could say saw him transform...though she didn't know what animal form he took...
Man with a sharp tool, a dog...Didn't Harry mention a dog several times too? A large black dog...that makes sense.
Hermione stared at the time-turner. She could do it. She could save them, all she had to do was go back a few hours, steal Harry's invisibility cloak and wait. It would be best for everyone. But you promised McGonagall...It shouldn't have mattered. But staring at the time-turner, she felt the weight of that promise around her neck. Too many people broke their word with her, she doubted every promise her father made her, ever time a friend said they'd be there, every time that...She couldn't do it to others. Hermione's hopes had been dashed too many times. She knew it was stupid. Hermione was being very stupid, indeed. But she just couldn't bring herself to do it.
That's when Scabbers leapt to the ground to feast on an abandoned sack of crisps. The rat joyfully ate, very much like she would expect a rat to, but there was something wrong with him. An aura of violet, just like Black and McGonagall surrounded the rat. His body was enchanted by transformation magic. The only question was, was he cursed or an animagus?