.

So far... The reborn Hermione launched the secret Cathesis League to fight Ministry corruption and Black Arc members, and Crest defensive training at Hogwarts where she is now in her second year. Ron rescued Padma from Macnair. She and Hermione were healed by Cadence. As a Potions teacher, Hermione is forbidden a romantic relationship with Harry. Neville challenged Draco to a deathly duel to take place one year hence. Now read on...

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Book 3: Hermione Granger and The Poisoned Chalice

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Chapter 66

Loss And Growth


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In The Right Place

SCREEEEEEECH! An absurdly tall purple bus lurched to a sudden halt in a quiet London square, scattering pigeons and rattling windows in the nearby houses.

"She's here! Hermione's here!" yelled Harry Potter from the front room of twelve Grimmauld Place. The boy practically bounced out into the hallway and sprinted past an astonished Kreacher to the front door.

Sirius laughed from the kitchen doorway, "Steady there, Harry! Don't look too eager."

But Harry was already opening the door and waving like a loony in the bright sunlight.

"Hermione! Where's your bag? Didn't you bring your bag? Didn't you get an owl from Ron?"

The young miss pointed at the side pocket of her faded jeans then glanced around before murmuring, "Shrinking charm."

Harry stared hard at the broad smile stretched across Hermione's yellow t-shirt as he stood aside to let her in. He'd never seen her quite so casually feminine before. "What's...? Are you dressed like a Muggle worker? Didn't you get Ron's invite?"

"That's not till tomorrow. It's a lovely day. I thought we might go for a walk. And don't I get a welcoming kiss?"

A grimace accompanied by swivelling eyes informed her of Harry's reserve as he hissed, "Hermione..." The boy cocked his head back and sideways to where his mum and dad were watching from the kitchen.

Hermione waved. "Hi, Hestia! Hi, Sirius!

Their greetings hailed back with Hestia adding, "Come through. Tea's brewing."

"Be right there! Harry's going to show me your new curtains."

She drew Harry into a surprisingly-expanded front room then pulled him into a hungry embrace. Flushed cheeks brushed and glided over one another. Breathy mouths fluttered across soft skin. Lips met.

Only when her eyes opened once more did Hermione see over Harry's shoulder the reason for the parlour's apparent increase in size. A grand painting of an identically-styled room, flush with the carpet and almost covering the far wall, gave the impression of extension.

Footsteps.

"They're really pretty!" cried Hermione, moving rapidly away to inspect the window drapes.

"Cadence wants her Aunt Hermione." Hestia was bustling in with the baby clasped to her bosom, little arms reaching eagerly out.

"My'nee..."

Taking the child, Hermione exclaimed, "Woooooh! You are a big girl, aren't you?"

Cadence giggled happily. "One now!"

"You're one year old – yes. And what comes after one?"

Cadence, mouth wetly open, searched Hermione's expression for the answer. "One! One!"

"Two. Two comes after one," smiled Hermione as they walked through to the kitchen where Kreacher was pouring out the hot drinks.

Sirius looked quizzically at his son. "So, erm... how did Hermione like the uuh... interweaving, eh, Harry?"

The young lad almost dropped his cup along with his lower jaw.

"Sirius!" smiled Hestia.

"What? Muggle blossoms from the outside, magical sheen within."

Hermione reached for the beaker of warm milk that Hestia had slid along the table towards her, then sat down. "Absolutely wonderful, Mr Black. I enjoyed the sensation very much. From the street one sees quality design – though few can perceive the house at all through the Fidelius charm! But inside the house, the curtain fabric shines with vibrancy, and the sunflowers seem to be swaying in a breeze. There's much to be said for combining Muggle innovation with Magical ability."

"–billity," Cadence burbled into her beaker.

"Yes, we gain a lot from Muggles," said Hestia. "This house is Georgian and built by non-magicals in the eighteenth century."

"The time must come when we should support them in return," said Hermione, very softly.

"How?" frowned Sirius. "The Statute of Secrecy–"

"–needs modifying," said Hermione, and she hoisted Cadence further up her lap. "How would the House of Black vote if the Ministry wished to offer a degree of covert assistance to Muggles?"

"Not gonna happen," said Sirius firmly.

"Hypothetically, I mean."

"–thet-tickly," gasped Cadence, nose in beaker but coming up for air.

"What have you been reading, Hermione?" said Hestia "Don't tell me you study politics – that reminds me, Sirius, Arthur Weasley asked me to nudge you to take your seat when they vote on the second version of the Muggle Protection Act."

Sirius groaned. "Yes, I remember. When?"

"Erm..."

"Eighteenth of this month," said Hermione. "It's been long delayed by Malfoy and others but that's turned out to be a blessing in disguise. An additional clause has been quietly slipped in."

"Clause?" said Hestia. "About what? I don't remember that in the Daily Prophet."

"Er... no, that's because it was quietly slipped in?" grinned Hermione. "Protecting national interests. You can order a copy of the proposed Act from Ministry Publications."

Sirius frowned. "But 'protecting national interests' could mean almost anything."

"Exactly," said Hermione. "Die-hard Pure-bloods don't give Muggles any consideration, so they'll conceive the clause – if they notice it at all – as 'protecting the Magical community'. Those in the know will understand it means far more."

"Such as?"

"Protecting the nation as a whole, Muggles included."

"From?"

"Any serious problem or threat, whether within or without."

Hestia put down her cup. "You've foreseen something again, haven't you?"

Hermione nodded but hesitated before continuing in a darker tone, "Global conflict. Only a union of magic and science can prevent disaster."

There was a long pause.

Hestia said, "How? How might such an unbelievable agreement be achieved?"

"The Muggle Protection Act is a step in the right direction. Use your vote, and use it wisely, Lord Black."

Hermione helped Cadence put her beaker onto the table then wiped the baby's mouth with her handkerchief. "Does she need burping?"

Hestia smiled and shook her head. "Not anymore. Honestly, Hermione, I thought you knew everything about everything!"

A rueful smile played on Hermione's lips. "Not too many baby books at Hogwarts, I'm afraid." She stood up.

"I'll take her," said Hestia, moving around the table. "Did you say that you and Harry are going out together?"

Harry spluttered the remnants of his tea before scrambling to his feet. "What!"

"I thought I overheard you say you're going out for a walk together," smiled Hestia.

"Oh, right... yeah. A walk."

Sirius chuckled and followed the youngsters to the front door. He and Hestia watched as the two children walked away down the street, Harry glancing back now and again to see if his parents were still visible.

"Come on, Sirius," said Hestia. "Let them alone." She pulled him back inside.

Sirius grinned. "They'll be snogging like sink plungers the moment they get round the corner."

"I like to think they'll only be holding hands," said Hestia. She closed the door. "What do you think of her?"

"Hermione? As a person? Or as the recipient of our son's affections? Even a possible future Lady Black?"

"All of the above."

"No one better," Sirius said quiet firmly. "Her actions are sometimes... disturbing, but her heart's definitely in the right place."

Hestia smiled. "I agree."

"'gree!'" cried Cadence, with a squirm and a wriggle of approval in her mother's arms.

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Living With Yourself

At the next side street, Hermione reached out her hand, but Harry backed around the corner before taking it and pulling her after him.

"Harry! Your parents do recognise we're now together, you know! They're not blind to the feelings we show – how we look at each other."

"I feel daft in front of them. Anyway, Dad jokes as if girls are just targets to show off with."

She squeezed his hand affectionately, and he squeezed back. "Harry, he loves your mother very much."

"I know," he admitted with a sigh.

Hermione paused in her stride to turn round and look behind them.

"What?" said Harry.

"Oh, nothing, I suppose. Just for a moment I imagined–"

"–Hermione, you've got an advertisement for... Diesel ... Industries sewn on the back of your old jeans! Is that to earn enough to buy smart new ones?"

Hermione laughed and turned to face him. "These are new! Many manufacturers deliberately distress their range to look old and used – some even ripped! Designer stuff is not really my thing. Mum bought them for me because she thought they were trendy."

"trendy? – so that means they charge less because they're ruined and you have to advertise for them?"

"No!" giggled Hermione, as they resumed walking. "It's crazy I know, but they actually cost more when they carry advertising and have this faded, worn-out look."

"So Muggles are forced to wear them to pretend to be poor? Why?"

"Not 'forced' exactly, but manipulated so the companies make more money.

"Is that what the big smile on your yellow shirt means? Muggles are tricked into being happy about buying old-looking clothes and show free advertising?"

"It's called a 'Smiley'. It's just a welcoming sign that indicates you're friendly. Haven't you seen them around here?"

She held him back at a street crossing until the traffic lights changed to red.

Harry watched the vehicles coming to a halt. "I've seen a few funny designs and words and things, but not like yours," he said as they walked across the road. "Look, we generally Floo or Apparate everywhere so... anyway, I do know there are Muggle shops further along – yeah, look where those people are – oh, and a café to the right, I think."

"Let's head there then."

They chatted and teased one another quite happily as they walked along for several minutes. "That's a letterbox," pointed out Hermione, "for Muggles to send letters. They don't use owls."

Harry pulled a face. "I know that, Hermione, I'm not completely gormless."

"No, Harry, you're uninformed; gormless means stupid. For example, that second shop front looks like a mini-mart which is a small supermarket."

"A what?"

"A supermarket is a very large shop where you have to serve yourself, Harry."

"So a mini-mart is a small big shop? Seriously? And they won't serve you?"

"Absolutely. You have to gather what you need yourself. They only take your money at the end."

"Muggle shoppers work for them without pay? And give them money, anyway? And the shops are small but big? I suppose it's because they're narrow but four-storeys high. What are those soup bowl things up there?"

"Satellite dishes. They get television pictures from the satellites high above."

He squinted upwards. "I can't see any."

"Well, that would be because they're over 20,000 miles away."

"Now you're winding me up like a clock spring, Hermione."

"No, honestly. And those things whizzing by are–"

"–cars. Yes I DO know what a car is, Hermione! I'm not totally uninformed. Muggles can't use broomsticks to move around – except for sweeping up, of course."

"No, they mostly use special cleaners that suck up dirt."

"Ugh! Those poor people! Oh, look, is she one in this mimmy...?" He paused to look in the window they were passing at a shop assistant who was on her knees stocking a shelf.

"Mini-mart."

"Right. Minny Mark. What are those big packets on her right? Why aren't they selling them anymore?"

"Washing powder. They are selling them, Harry."

"That sign says 'No longer on offer.'"

"That means they're no longer on special offer – like reduced in price, or two for the price of one."

"So they're still being offered for sale?"

"Yes, they're still on offer, but not erm... on offer."

"Muggles are really weird."

"Continue walking, Harry. Don't draw your wand visibly. Don't look round. We're being followed. Someone's hidden under a disillusionment spell on the opposite pavement."

For one moment, Harry hesitated in his stride, but to his credit he resumed moving forward, albeit rather stiffly. He felt Hermione's hand slip out of his, followed by her whisper:

"Just keep going, Harry. I'm slipping in the mini-mart to disappear for a bit."

She laughed loudly, and called out, "I'm just going to buy some milk! Won't be long!"

Harry gulped. "Hurry then!"

His legs felt like he was wading up a fast river. He ached to turn his head to try to spot the danger. He did sense a flicker on the right out of the corner of his eye. What if he was being cursed right that very instant? Trust Hermione! he told himself.

The sun went out.

A blast hit him in the back and he was hurled forward, face down on the paving slabs, cracking his spectacles. A hurricane of dust and shreds exploded violently from the mini-mart behind him and out into the road. Immersed in a rush of black smoke, he was blinded by the howling cloud of fine debris that instantly filled the street, and a loud, powerful roar caused pain in his ears.

Coughing, spluttering, he rolled over, wand topside up and in his hand. A vague empty space, outlined and slowed down by the spraying filth, was struggling towards him from across the road.

"DIFFINDO!" shouted Harry, aiming low.

A shriek of pain was heard above the tumult. Down went the near-invisible shape, was bowled away a few turns by the dark blizzard, but came to rest in the opposite gutter when the blast petered out as suddenly as it had begun, leaving only a dark, drifting fog.

Ignoring the groans and cries from the suspicious sneaker, Harry rushed back to the shop – except there was no mini-mart anymore, only a gaping rubble-floored chasm between the adjacent buildings. Fragments of packets and papers, shreds of fabric and flesh, twists of trolleys and transoms – all littered the cracked pavement and tarmac. Harry's grit-stung eyes locked numbly onto the contents of a tiny sandal, but the grisly remnants were too surreal to evoke any reaction within his shocked mind.

"HERMIONE!" Yellow or blue was what the distraught boy searched for – yet hoped not to find. The label... what was her jeans label...? "HERMIONE! HERMIONE!"

"Harry, over here!" Her voice sounded from near the moaning figure. She became visible through the gloom a moment later.

A sob of relief escaped Harry's lips as he scampered over to rejoin his girl. "Are you hurt? Hermione, are you alright?"

She nodded up from where she crouched but her voice was tense with anger. "I'm f–fine. The shelving just inside – store hid me, so – faded s–straight away and circled round after this... this l–loathsome, loathsome..." She prodded the camouflaged shape with her wand and he became fully visible. "Harry, you did amazingly well to injure his legs – no accomplice could restore him quickly to the fight – but – and don't take this the wrong way – you ought to have incarcerated or stunned him as well in case he–"

"–I was more worried about you, Hermione!" Harry's expression darkened as the reality of what had occurred was gradually sinking in.

She shook her head and held up the man's wand.

Harry muttered his agreement and put a hand on Hermione's shoulder, mostly to reassure himself he wasn't dreaming. "I'm just so glad to see you alive."

Her hand went over his and she, Harry, and the intruder were all gone in that same moment.

With scarcely time to react to the rapid Disapparition, Harry found the three of them were up within the angles of the nearest roofs. Sunlight warmed his face again, but a rising dust cloud was still visible beyond the slated ridges. Police sirens wailed in the distance and Hermione reacted immediately by tugging up the sleeve of their captive. Over her shoulder, Harry could see what appeared to be a skull and snake tattoo. "That's a–"

"–Death Mark. Yes, Harry." Hermione's curse tore off a long strip of skin including part of the snake's head.

The man screamed. "Mud-bitch! You can't remove the Mark. Don't you think we've tried after all these years?"

Ignoring him, she ripped away two more patches of skin and cloth from elsewhere on the man's body, evoking more shrieks of pain before she stood up. "I'll be back in half a minute, Harry. Keep your wand on this psycho. Stop him at any cost. Kill him if you have to, but don't let him escape!"

"Hermione!"

"Think of the innocent lives we'd have saved a few minutes ago!" came her voice from the empty air.

The man gasped and blinked. "Please, please, Master Black, while she's gone... help me."

"What?" Harry stared incredulously, trying to understand. "After you tried to kill us? Why should–?"

–Hermione reappeared. "The police will cordon off the area and search it rigorously inch by inch to help identify the victims. This foul cockroach will be one of them – blown up by his own incompetence. I'll make sure a photo of the snake's snout gets transferred to the Daily Prophet. Every Magical will recognise what it must be, especially the Arcanists."

"NO! You can't kill me! Tell her, Black!"

From the beaded bag at her waist, Hermione pulled out a small vial and uncorked it.

"Hermione, no!" cried Harry.

"You can't make me drink that!" squealed the man, cringing back as if wishing the grey roof would swallow him.

"Actually, I can," said Hermione, pressing the lip of the little bottle to the former Death Eater's tightly-clamped mouth.

Subtle suggestions occurred to his thinking. It's only a healing potion...

"You must drink it," Hermione murmured.

"I really should drink..." His lips parted and thirstily the man gulped in a small mouthful, stretching for more when Hermione snatched away the vial.

"Enough," she said.

The man sagged into limpness, his eyes closed.

"Hermione, is he...?"

"Living Death. He'll be fine, Harry." Hermione grasped the man's arm and stood up. "We have to get away quickly. Your mum and dad may have heard the explosion. They'll be worried and we... we need a cover story. Take my arm."

Once again, Harry found himself compressed inside a dark vacuum. His only thought was of the dusty suction from a gigantic Muggle cleaning lady's jaws drawing him through a long tube of–

–A whoosh of different smells were swept in by fresh air from a grey sky. Harry stumbled, then gazed back and forth. Heavily meshed windows surrounded a round room which vaguely reminded him of Luna's attic without the clutter.

"It's a belfry, Harry. Here eat this."

Harry inspected the piece of chocolate that Hermione offered him. "What is it exactly?"

"It's your mother's pepper-up variety. It'll give you a boost before we continue our journey."

He chewed thoughtfully on one end. "I've never needed this before."

"We came a very long way. Remember I told you all there's a wizard prison in Europe?"

"We're out of the country!" Harry gaped in surprise. "You made it all the way to France?"

Hermione winced up one side of her face to show her displeasure. "Close your mouth while you're eating please, Harry."

He rolled his eyes. "Sorr–ee!"

"Yes, we've left Britain, but this is southern Germany." She bent down to inspect the man at her feet, and began casting healing charms on the torn skin and broken legs.

"Germany..." echoed Harry, finding it hard to believe they'd come so far. "We're supposed to be at Ron's tomorrow! Mum and Dad will go crazy! Can we send them an – no, one of your Patronus messages?" His hand suddenly shot to his hip bag, then halted. "Oh, no! I gave Ron my two-way mirror when we were still at Hogwarts so he could talk to Olive!"

"Steady yourself. It's only a few minutes since the explosion and hopefully we'll be back at Grimmauld place in another ten. I think if you dash in and shout, 'Did you hear a loud bang somewhere?' then ask them if they knew what it could have been, you won't actually be lying. They'll assume we were nowhere near it."

She studied his expression closely then waved her hand. "Reparo." His glasses were mended instantly, but she could see he was troubled. She softened her tone. "It's shock, Harry. It's beginning to sink in what's happened."

As she healed the scratches and bruises on his face and hands, Harry said, "Hermione, you didn't really expect me to kill this man, did you?"

She sighed. "No, but you shouldn't hesitate if there's no other option. Suppose we'd heard him when he was about to cast that Bombarda Maxima into the shop? I glimpsed about half a dozen customers in there, one of them a little girl with her mother. They'd be alive now if we could have thrown a reflecting shield at him – and he would be smeared over the ground instead of them."

"But he was already helpless when–"

"–And if he'd pulled out a Portkey? Any injury you inflicted less than fatal he'd simply take with him and be healed to kill six more people – or six hundred."

For several seconds Harry stared hard at his girlfriend. "And that's how you live with yourself?"

Hermione drew a deep breath. "Yes, Harry, that's how I live with myself."

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No Doors

Another SWOOOOSH. Another long Apparition. More pepper-up chocolate.

"Now, where are we?" Harry's eyes swept around the rock walls of a cavern illuminated by a long overhead swathe of enchanted sky.

Hermione hovered their comatose prisoner onto a horizontal slab of granite before answering, "Devil's Deep, the most secure place on Earth."

She watched him striding back and forth, clearly agitated.

"A dungeon? Where are the guards?" he said, "and the cells?" He came to a startled halt. "Where are the DOORS, Hermione!"

"There aren't any. Not one. No one can ever get out, so no guards are needed."

"But then how do they bring prisoners in? ... oh!" He stared hard at Hermione as she conjured a pillow for the captive's head. "What are you doing?"

"I don't want him to hurt his head when he awakens."

Harry shook his head. "I don't understand you, sometimes, Hermione." He gestured expansively around him. "This is all your doing isn't it? Has to be because no doors. You dematerialised us to get inside and nobody else can do that. You lock up the people you don't kill in this desolate place and... yet you give that murderer a cushion for his head? You healed him of his injuries?"

"There's no virtue in unnecessary suffering, Harry. He's not here for punishment but to prevent him committing further atrocities. Azkaban is evil and insecure. The Ministry's justice system is inefficient and unreliable –I've seen too many good people made miserable or killed because of it. Always think of them, Harry. Always consider the ocean of pain the peoples of this Earth endure at the hands of a tiny minority. Almost all crime is committed by repeat offenders who are endlessly released to continue their evil deeds. The cycle must be broken if the world is to survive."

"Who made you the judge? Everyone deserves a proper trial! What if–!"

"–He'll get one! You're forgetting that I've told you I'm not alone in this, Harry. And yes, what if YOU misjudged when you crippled him? What if it had been Sirius following to see that you were safe? What if you'd burst a major artery in his thigh and he'd bled to death while you wasted time searching for me? This is not an Auror operation – this is WAR! You had to make an instant decision like any soldier has to. ... Harry, we do the best we can in an awful situation."

He did not answer.

Hermione said, "Are you disappointed in me?"

Harry sighed.

"Confused then?"

He nodded.

"Your parents are not yet ready to have their child preparing for war. Can you at least trust me enough not to reveal any of this to them?"

"Yes, of course! I was only... trying to understand."

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The Witch From Tomorrow

Harry and Hermione walked in the front door of twelve, Grimmauld place, howling with laughter from each other's tickling spells.

"Me! Me!" squealed Hermione. "The barman snarled, 'We don't serve time-travellers here.' The witch from tomorrow walked into a bar."

Harry, unable to stand from laughing, collapsed into a crouch, wheezing, "Neville walked in that same pub carrying his toad. The barmaid said, 'Ugh! Where'd you get that fat ugly thing?' 'Near my garden pond,' said Trevor!"

Shrieking with laughter, the two suddenly froze. Hestia was advancing down the hallway towards them, her face filled with both worry and annoyance. "Where have you been! Are you alright?" She dropped to her knees to hug Harry then began examining him for any signs of injury. "Your father is out there now scouring the streets looking for you!"

"We... w-we heard a b-bang," Harry said hesitantly. "Did you hear it too?" He glanced over his mother's shoulder at Hermione who was waiting to see if she were needed in the cover-up explanation.

Mrs Black released him and stood up. "Professor Dumbledore Flooed in to ask if you... he said a Muggle store... er... Ministry charms detected powerful, explosive magic in a Muggle area near here. They..."

"Hawwy?"

Cadence had toddled forward and was holding out her pudgy little arms. There was no condemnation in her eyes, only hurt. Harry knew then his attempt at deceit was utterly transparent to the purity of her mind. Emotion pierced him, rose up and overflowed. The boy embraced his little sister, shaking with shame. Family was family after all.

In astonishment, their mother looked on. "What by Merlin happened this morning? The truth now!"

"It was my fault," Hermione said in a quiet voice, at the same time becoming aware of Sirius entering behind them through the front door. "We did see the explosion but we didn't want to worry you. We came back a long way round. I told Harry we should pretend–"

"No, Hermione," said Harry. "Tell them. You have to tell them everything."

"We can't, Harry!"

Sirius growled, "Hermione, I'm... we're not happy about you seeing our son unless we understand properly what's going on. Isn't it time to end this secrecy?"

Hermione amplified her tone until the window in the adjacent front room rattled. "I CANNOT! This is not just about us! The future of –" She broke off and looked desperately at Harry's mother. "Hestia, are you an Occlumens? I know Sirius is."

"How? How can you possibly know that?"

"I want your word – each of you – that you will not speak of this to anyone, not even Professor Dumbledore. Hestia, I will also have to charm your mind to prevent–"

"–You will do no such thing!" cried Sirius.

"Then I can't give you any information. Even Harry cannot tell you because his mind is already charmed."

"What!" cried Hestia. "What have you done to my – Kreacher, take Cadence upstairs and stay with her. The rest of us into the front parlour."

As Kreacher popped into view and took Cadence out of Harry's arms, Hestia hustled everyone else through the nearby door which was still open from when Harry and Hermione had kissed and pretended to be admiring the curtains. Everyone sat down on the soft furniture that huddled around a hearth as empty and forlorn as Hermione's spirit.

"Your promises! Your promises!" wailed Hermione. "I love Harry dearly and it will destroy me never to see him again, yet even so, I'll never tell you anything without you both first give me your word that this information will not be shared with anyone except those I allow."

"Those?" snapped Sirius. "Who else knows this?"

"In different degrees: Harry, Ron, Ginny, Neville, Luna, and my parents. They all have my absolute trust and protective spell. There are also a few high-profile adults whose confidence I can never violate without their permission."

Hestia recoiled so vigorously at this news, the springs in the back of her chair creaked. "By Merlin!"

Sirius steadied her with one hand but his expression was very severe. "Hermione, you're endangering everyone! You're putting our son at risk!"

Harry cried, "Dad, Hermione is the one protecting us!"

"How?" said Hestia. "How can she?"

"Show them, Hermione."

"Your promises first," said Hermione.

Sirius said, "We cannot give our word not to divulge anything until we know what is at stake!"

"The entire world," said Hermione, quietly.

"What?"

"The whole of civilization is at risk. Everybody."

Sirius shook his head and sighed. When he finally spoke, his tone was tinged with sarcasm. "Oh, right, uuh... everything and everyone in the world depends on you? Oh, sure. Look, we need to–"

"Hermione's not exaggerating, Dad!" cried Harry. "There's – we – it's – aaah!" He struggled to speak then remembered why he couldn't.

"Harry can't tell you because of the charm I placed on him. It's harmless, but I'll remove it when he masters Occlumency as securely as you, Sirius. The same goes for you, Hestia. The Fidelia spell not only prevents Harry accidentally divulging our secrets but also obscures them from a Legilimens attack. It is derived from the same Fidelius charm that protects this house."

"I don't believe this! A concealment lock on the mind? There's never been such magic!" said Sirius.

"There is now," said Hermione. "I created it."

Sirius blew out air. "You seriously expect us to believe that you invented a new spell? So advanced? Not even Dumbledore – not even Merlin himself had a thought-protection charm!"

"Well, Hermione duuu – hhhhh – sheeeee –" Harry shrugged his shoulders and gave up.

"Not much of a charm is it? So obvious he's hiding something," snorted Sirius.

Harry said, "I've never tried to force it before. That's because I do want to tell you. With anyone else I'd quickly say something else and they'd never notice."

Hestia and Sirius searched each other's fixed expressions ... then watched their features relaxing into mutual resignation. They turned back to Hermione who had been observing them closely.

"Very well, we agree," said Hestia, with a hint of a sigh.

"I want my first mum and dad to know as well," said Harry, digging in his hip bag. "I mean, nobody can force secrets from the minds of portraits, can they?" He held up the miniatures, then James and Lily moved over to sit on the life-size sofa in the huge wall painting.

"What's going on?" said James, shuffling his position to get comfortable beside Lily.

"Family secrets," Harry said firmly. "Things you should know." He glared at Hermione, daring her to object.

She nodded, then gathered herself together and began to tell them of the future. They took it pretty well considering Hermione did not have Mike Worthing's Pensieve available to really show them the disastrous fate of mankind, and that she had actually experienced it, lived it, not simply foreseen these events. And that now a number of very special people had joined forces to try to prevent the same horror reoccuring, to counter dark forces, and enable Muggles and Magicals to co-exist harmoniously.

With Harry's help, Hermione demonstrated her immaterial spell and other silent, wandless powers. Before his shocked parents could stop him, the boy was taking a kind of malevolent joy in hurling every nasty spell at Hermione he could think of – so much so that his wand was practically smoking by the end, and, with a grin, he made a big show of dropping it onto the broad arm of his chair, blowing on his fingers as if he'd been burnt.

Hermione was pleased to note that, even here in the safety of his own home, even when joking about, Harry's hand did not stray far from his wand. She nodded her approval, then, completely unharmed by his attacks, she began to fade away. "Invisibility and immateriality together are a devastating combination," she explained, and her voice passed right through both Sirius and Hestia, causing them to recoil in surprise.

"Magic is timeless," continued Hermione as she reappeared back in her chair, "so I still have these skills, and am adding to them."

Hestia gulped as she tried to absorb all that had been said. "So you're more than a century old? Changed your appearance? Turned back time?"

Hermione's bushy hair bounced and shook vigorously. "No, I'm thirteen in every way but with over a century of memories and experience to draw on." Her head tilted as she considered how to explain what she herself often struggled to comprehend. "Sometimes I behave quite childishly, yet I've always found that danger brings out my best survival instincts."

Sirius frowned. "Like this morning? You saved Harry from an attack?"

"Harry saved himself."

"Thanks to your training," Harry smiled grimly.

"Merlin!" gasped Sirius. "Why? How'd they even find you, Harry? This house is hidden by–"

"–A Fidelius charm, yes," said Hermione, "but there are other members of the Black family who know the approximate area – your brother, Regulus for one – so they are probably keeping watch on the nearest streets."

Eyes wide, Sirius moved quickly from his seat, drawing his wand. "–or else Harry's being tracked! Over by the door, Harry, while I check."

Harry did as he was told, and Sirius cast charms in an attempt to find any tracking spells that might have been placed upon him. Hermione joined them and added some detection magic of her own.

"He's clear," Hermione finally conceded.

"Well, that's a relief at least," said Sirius, finally. "But from now on, Harry, your mother or I will Apparate you from the front step for local trips. Floo should be safe enough but... silly question, Hermione, can you Apparate?"

Before she could answer, Harry laughed dryly. "I'd say so!" He dropped down into his cumfy chair again rather heavily and his wand bounced and slid neatly into his waiting hand. "You should have seen how far we–"

"–The Arcanist that Harry captured this morning," cut in Hermione, "we delivered him to await trial in the prison I told you about."

"The one in Europe? You left the country this morning? And returned?" Hestia frowned, her mind overloaded by all this new information. "And you said you're working with others who – responsible adults, I mean?"

"Yes, it's not perfect but they use Veritaserum to make absolutely sure of guilt. If we handed him over to the Aurors, we'd have trouble proving the case and anyway, Azkaban is inhumane because of the Dementors, and unsafe because their allegiance may be swayed."

Sirius leaned back in his chair, shaking his head dazedly for many silent moments. Finally, he asked, "Any other astonishing revelations we should know about?"

Hermione look thoughtful. "Yes. There's a new prophecy but I don't–"

With a squeal, Hestia turned on Sirius. "Of course! Hermione must be the one that Dumbledore's searching for!"

Sirius gaped at her, then turned, realisation dawning. "Hermione, can you... you told us you experienced the future... so how did you get there? And back to uuh... our time?"

But Hermione had turned pale. "Dumbledore...? Looking for me?

Hestia's voice was trembling. "He asked – some of us – to be vigilant, to keep watch for any sign of someone who might be a – the word he used was 'maven'. Dumbledore said it meant someone born twice. That's you, isn't it? Is that how you know the future? You died but were reborn? Same parents? Same home? Same birth date?"

Hermione nodded, distracted by worry. "Then Snape must have told Dumbledore about the prophecy."

"Snape?" said Sirius. "Dumbledore never told us how he came by it."

"It was given to Draco Malfoy who then informed Snape."

Harry stared hard at Hermione. "The scary voice I heard near the North Tower?"

"Yes."

"You heard the prophecy, Harry?" said Hestia. "Then what did it foretell?"

"No, they were round a corner. I only heard a distant voice."

Hermione said, "Hestia, are you saying Dumbledore didn't tell you the whole prophecy?"

"None of it. Only to keep watch for a wizard who displayed exceptional knowledge – someone who might help us."

"'Us'? You mean the Order of the Phoenix?"

Sirius groaned. "Is there anything you don't know about Hermione?"

"So, Dumbledore's looking for a man? A great wizard? An adult?" said Hermione.

"That was the impression he gave, yes."

"Then my ruse to appear only a weak, nervous little girl has successfully kept me underserving of attention. Leave the Headmaster with his assumptions for now."

"But we must inform him we've found the maven!"

"You gave your word, remember!" snapped Hermione. "I'm not yet ready to work with Dumbledore. He would never agree to vigilante trial and punishment. And can you imagine him ever playing second fiddle to me? He would try to take over, steer me in his direction."

"Hermione." Lily's soft voice from the picture startled them all. "Can you tell us what was in the prophecy?"

A few moments passed while Hermione considered. "Yes. ... Yes, I think you should know. Perhaps you can throw light on what it might mean."

They all leaned forward attentively as Hermione wriggled herself more upright in her chair. Then she took a deep breath.

"Darkness comes. The beast shall be its only sign. On a high place, the cursed shall be set against a maven. Equal yet greater, neither can survive the other's defeat. Darkness comes."

Sirius ran a hand through the long black mane of his hair. "How can anything be equal yet greater?"

James spoke. "Hermione, would your immateriality protect you even against a dark object? A cursed object?"

"Yes, but I can't sustain my spell for more than a few minutes."

"But long enough to escape anything nasty coming–"

–A terrifying, hissing shriek was heard from the hall, descending the stairs towards them at tremendous speed. Wands came out instantly, but it was Hermione who flew to the open door. Black pebble eyes pierced her from a pale, heart-shaped face.

"SCREEEEEEE!"

"Master!" wailed from the stair. "Kreacher tried his best to–"

"It's okay!" cried Hermione. "It's just a barn owl. I know whose it is."

"Kreacher!" cried Sirius. "Explain!"

The old house-elf tumbled awkwardly in a heap at the foot of the steps, panting, "Flew in loophole tile as if it owned the attic! Cuffed this poor old elf with long wings! 'No Rosemary here!' cries Kreacher. Go away!" The elf rubbed a bruise that was forming on his long snout. "Bird too fast down stairs for old elf legs."

"It's me! I'm Rosemary," cried Hermione. "I'm sorry, Kreacher, I wasn't expecting an owl to seek me out here." The big bird had perched on the handrail. As soon as Hermione retrieved its message, the great wings spread once more and the owl flew back up to the loft exit.

"Cadence! Where's Cadence!" cried Hestia, rushing to the stair.

There was a tiny sound from the front room. "Wan' sit wiv Hawwy." Cadence was curling up in Harry's chair.

Hestia and Sirius exchanged glances. "Did she...?"

"Accidental magic," said Harry as they returned to the front parlour. He sat down again, tucking his sister under his arm before looking at his parents. "Remember when you decided we should visit Aunt Petunia? When I saw Uncle Vernon, I Disapparated six houses away behind a garden wall?"

"You remember that, Harry?" said Sirius. "You were only three! Never again! After Dursley started shouting–"

"He scared me!" protested Harry. "I thought he was a big fat walrus." He glanced at Hermione to see if he'd amused or disappointed her, but she was absorbed in reading the letter that had been delivered.

Sirius frowned. "Everything... alright?"

"Better than that!" smiled Hermione. "Three more families have been persuaded to our cause."

"Who? And who's that from?"

"First, I must use the Fidelia spell on Hestia so no Legilimens can extract our secrets from her mind. You already agreed."

"Very well," said Hestia, and Sirius nodded with a frown.

Hermione cast the charm with a lengthy incantation and flourish of her wand.

"And now you must both decide if you wish to support our cause or remain passively in the background."

Hestia said stiffly, "Hermione, neither Sirius nor I have ever been passive, but now we have a young baby to raise!"

"There are many tasks not requiring risky confrontation. For example, your Wizengamot vote, Sirius."

"I'll be there, I promise. I'll support the Muggle Protection Act."

"Change of plans. Now I don't want you to."

"What!"

Hermione waved her letter. "I want you to be there but delay your vote. Use the counting spell on the first call. If enough approve the Act then I want you to abstain or even vote against."

"By Merlin, why?" cried Sirius.

"We do not want any big swings to draw attention. If all our people attend, we now have a majority of three or four votes depending on how many of the opposition turn up. If the Act is passed by a single vote then that will be enough."

Sirius whistled through his teeth. "Are you sure the Hat put you in Gryffindor and not Slytherin?"

Hermione grimaced. "Most of the traits are in all of us, believe it or not, but the dominant qualities prevail. Your brother Regulus for example: in my previous experience he helped destroy Voldemort and willingly gave his life in the process."

Sirius rose swiftly and began to silently pace. When he finally turned, his eyes were wet. "It's likely he's joined The Black Arc. I... I ordered him to keep away from my family." He sniffed hoarsely before continuing. "Can he... be helped?"

"I don't know, this time around." Hermione sighed. "Likely he feels more secure following the pure-blood line and only the right circumstances will enable him to see differently. We must strive to improve society; perhaps that might inspire him. Are you willing to be considered for membership in our activity? To work towards a better life for your children? It need not conflict with the Order; we're all on the same side after all."

"Has this group a name?" said Hestia.

"We're the Cathesis League. And I want Harry to join too, at least as an observer."

"What! But he's–"

"–He'll be thirteen in a few weeks. He needs to grow up informed and understanding."

Speechless, Harry returned his girlfriend's gaze, wishing he could live up to her expectations of him. "I... I..."

Hermione continued, "There'll be a new batch of Muggle-raised children to be visited this summer: kids who need our guidance. But in these troubled times, the students need a hero. They look to Harry; they turn to Harry Potter for leadership."

Sirius smiled. "While you're just the inconspicuous power behind the throne? After all, you're the one who came back to save the world."

"No, Sirius," said Hermione. "I came back for Harry. Just Harry."

.

—oOo—

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Author's Notes

A weary sickness and a desktop PC that's been crashing daily have delayed this chapter but finally Book 3 is underway!

Many thanks for all comments and reviews. These are most welcome and very encouraging. Let me know of any weaknesses or faults – I'm always trying to improve my writing so feedback is really useful. :)

– Hippothestrowl

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