Hermione tapped her foot quietly against the ground, checking her watch every few seconds to see if time had suddenly sped up.
Perseus was as prompt as they come, she knew. If he said 3:00 PM, he'd be there at 3:00 PM.
Still, she hadn't seen her best friend in many months, in fact she hadn't heard from him at all after his initial correspondence.
She was worried his aunt might have done something drastic, or Perseus himself had gotten into trouble, as unlikely as that sounded.
She'd run a million scenarios through her head, each as unlikely as the next, but she couldn't stop. She was hardwired to worry, a trait her mother swore she got from her father.
"Relax, sweetheart," her father said, resting a large, warm hand on her shoulder. "I'm sure your friend is just fine, and you'll see for yourself in," he checked his watch, "one minute."
Hermione nodded her head, ignoring her mother's amused smirk and turning her focus entirely back to the fireplace situated in the center of The Leaky Cauldron.
The fireplace flared green and Hermione held her breath, craning her neck to see the fireplace, even though she could see just fine.
For a moment, Hermione didn't recognize him.
He was dressed in a yellow and white suit, a white ascot with yellow accents secured around his neck. His skin was tan and his purple eyes were practically glowing. His hair fell in shining twists of black to his chin. He stepped out of the fireplace with all the grace of a ballerina. Perseus looked fresh out of Hollywood.
Their eyes met, and the largest smile she'd ever seen on him overtook his face.
"Perseus," she breathed, rushing to him immediately.
Hermione collided with him, wrapping her arms around him, ignoring the breath of air she knocked from his body.
"Oi," her father said. "Let the boy breathe."
Hermione's face caught fire and she pulled away with a squeak, though she was pleased to hear Perseus' quiet, raspy chuckle. It wasn't a sound she heard often.
If some people thought she was too serious, Perseus was bordering on austere.
"Perseus," Hermione said, motioning to her parents. "These are my parents, Doctors Katherine and Arthur Granger."
Perseus tilted his head, his violet eyes curious. "Doctor, like a muggle Healer?" he asked, looking at Hermione.
Hermione nodded. "Well, technically yes, but my parents are Oral Surgeons, so they heal people's mouths."
Perseus nodded his head, but Hermione could tell there were a thousand questions he wanted to ask.
That was the difference between her and him. They both craved knowledge, but Hermione never could curb her desire to interrogate others. It was something she was hoping to learn from him. He had a sort of grace and regal stature about him that was out of place on a twelve year old. Traits she knew he likely gained from hours of teaching since a small child.
"Nice to meet you, Perseus," Arthur said, extending his hand. "Let me just say, I'm a big fan of the name."
Hermione held her breath as Perseus frowned at her father's extended hand.
The books on the laws and customs of magical Britain had been very enlightening. It was considered incredibly improper for someone of lower standing to extend an offer in such a manner. And as poorly as Hermione thought of Perseus' aunt, she was not wrong in her belief that the Black family was as close to royalty as one could get in the wizarding world. They were one of six Founding Families, and one of only four that were not extinct. And amongst those remaining four, the Black family was of the highest noble standing.
Perseus' eyes locked with her's, and giving him a subtle nod, barely the slightest dip of her chin, he stepped forward and shook her father's hand.
Hermione released the breath she'd been holding. Perseus had always allowed her to shake his hand, which was even more improper than her father. She should've known he wouldn't spurn her father's offer.
"Nice to meet you as well sir," Perseus said. "If you happen to be named after a certain Arthur Pendragon, I'm a fan of your name as well."
Arthur threw his head back and laughed, and Hermione couldn't contain her own smile. Her father had always been open and genuine with his emotions, a trait that Hermione admired.
"It just so happens that I am," Arthur said, getting his laughter under control.
"I'm just regular old Katherine, I'm afraid," Katherine said, reaching out to shake his hand as well.
He took her mother's hand, and bent over it with a kiss like some Prince Charming. Hermione nearly laughed at the look of surprise on her mother's face.
"A pleasure to meet you, Doctor Granger."
Hermione butted in before her father could say whatever he was thinking; something that likely would offend Perseus and his sense of tradition.
"Come on, mum and dad," Hermione said, grabbing them each by the hand, leading them to the brick wall that was the entrance to Diagon Alley. "I don't want to get the last copies of our books!"
As she stood there in front of the wall, she realized she didn't actually know how to make it open.
She turned to look for Tom, the Barman, only for Perseus to step forward, wand in hand.
She watched intently as he counted out the bricks, though her attention was fixated on his wand. She'd never seen one that was such a stark, bone white, not even in Ollivander's shop.
"Perseus?" she said, as the wall began to open.
He turned to her, his eyebrows slightly raised.
"What is your wand made of, if you don't mind me asking?"
Judging by the way his entire body stiffened and his face grew blank, he certainly minded.
She bit her lip, worried she had made him angry. She hadn't seen him so stiff since that day in the library.
She nearly sighed in relief when the tension drained from his body and he took a deep breath.
When he spoke, his voice was even raspier than usual. "You should never, ever," he looked at her intensely, "ask someone what their wand is made of Hermione."
Hermione frowned, her brow furrowed. "Why not? It's not some great big secret is it? Everyone can see your wand anyway."
Perseus shook his head. "One can tell a lot about a person based on their wand if they know anything about wandlore. It is a great breach of privacy and a great show of trust to share the contents of your wand." He took a deep breath, before presenting his wand to her. "But because you asked, and I trust you, here."
He handed the wand to her, and she took it gently. She had never thought about how precious a wizard's wand was to them, and she felt stupid for it.
Her wand was her connection to magic, and she had not cherished it as strongly as she should have.
Perseus' wand was longer than her own, and lacked many of the decorative aspects her own had. His handle was decorated with a bird, but the rest of his wand was all smooth, white wood.
"Yew and Phoenix feather, 12 inches."
Hermione looked up, her eyes wide.
"'An excellent wand for both healing and combative magic, and very capable of all the magical arts.'"
Hermione nodded, and returned the wand to him, watching curiously it disappeared up his sleeve.
"Well, mine is Vine and Dragon Heartstring, if you were wondering."
Perseus looked at her in disbelief, but a small smile graced his lips. "A wand best suited for those of great ambition, a disdain for being ordinary, and with great depth of character," he smiled wider now, nodding his head. "Vine and dragon are a perfect match for you."
Hermione blushed down to her throat and felt like she might explode. She understood now why it was improper to ask about one's wand. A disdain for me being ordinary. She had never shared that particular thought with anyone ever, not even her parents, and seconds after learning the content of her wand, Perseus knew.
"I get it now," she said quietly, peeking at Perseus out of the corner of her eye.
He did nothing more than nod, but she understood.
"Well," her father said, his deep voice almost making her jump, "that was rather dramatic."
She glared at her father, but couldn't keep it up at the goofy grin on his lips.
"Oh Arthur, one day you'll grow up," Katherine said, though she looked at the man fondly. "Come on now you two, we didn't come here to stand in the entryway did?"
Blushing once more, Hermione grabbed Perseus' hand and took off into the alley at a pace that just barely qualified as a walk.
"Come on, Perseus," she said, dragging him along. "We don't want to be last in line to get our books!"
They made it to Flourish and Blotts in what seemed like an eternity to Hermione.
Finally releasing Perseus' hand, she opened the door and darted inside, only to freeze.
It was Gilderoy Lockhart . She couldn't believe it. The author of her Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook was standing right in front of her. And he was handsome . With his shining blonde hair and gleaming white teeth, he was the most handsome man she'd ever seen.
"Perseus," she hissed, pulling him closer to hear so she could whisper. "It's him! It's Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin Third Class, Honorary member of the Dark Force Defense League!"
Perseus snorted beside her, and Hermione rounded on him with glare. How could he not be taking this as seriously as her?
"Gilderoy Lockhart is not the man he claims to be," Perseus said simply, his eyes locked on the man.
Hermione turned away with a huff. What did Perseus know about Gilderoy Lockhart anyway? She released his hand, and made her way to the front.
Her heart nearly stopped as Gilderoy looked up from the book he was signing, his sky blue eyes and gleaming white smile pointed right at her. The word handsome did not do the man credit. He could've been a model for all he wanted, and instead he was out fighting off magical beasts! Hermione just barely managed not to swoon.
"Hello there, young lady!" Gilderoy said, his eyes lighting up. "Are you here to buy your Hogwarts books?"
Hermione's face was on fire as she nodded. Her cheeks hurt from how hard she was smiling.
"And what about you, young man?" Gilderoy said.
Hermione frowned, following his gaze, to find Perseus looking back at the man over her shoulder, his face stony and his purple eyes dark.
"No, I do not want any of your storybooks," Perseus said, a look very close to a sneer on his face.
Gilderoy's famed smile faltered, but it was back on his face so fast Hermione thought she might have imagined it.
She whirled on Perseus, glaring at him as he glared at Gilderoy.
He turned to match her stare, and Hermione couldn't believe he had the nerve to look angry with her.
"Perseus," she hissed at him, "show some respect."
Perseus' lip looked as though it might curl, before his face fell flat and he averted his gaze.
"Well Miss," Gilderoy said, prompting her with a nod.
"Granger, Hermione Granger," she said, biting her lip as she felt her face flooding with heat under the man's attention.
"Well, Miss Hermione Granger, today you will get your textbook for free, and signed by yours truly!"
Hermione nearly fainted on the spot.
"And who might you be, young man?"
Perseus didn't look like he was going to respond, before Hermione gave him a sharp elbow in the ribs.
Perseus gave her a side eye, before turning back to the man, a smirk playing around his lips. "My name is Perseus Sirius Black, Heir to the Founding House of Black."
Hermione watched as Gilderoy's face grew paler with every word Perseus said.
"The Founding House of Black, you said?" Gilderoy asked, his eyes darting around the store. He scooped up the books, scribbling his signature in them quickly before dumping them in Hermione's arms. "I just realized I have to get to a meeting of the Dark Force Defense League! Not to worry, though young lady, if you're going to Hogwarts you'll certainly be seeing me soon!"
Hermione could only watch in confusion as the man all but ran out of the store.
She turned to Perseus, a frown on her lips. "What did you do, Perseus?"
Perseus stared back at her, and Hermione found she didn't care that he looked less than happy.
"What do you mean?" Perseus asked, tilting his head.
"Oh dear," Katherine said, getting Hermione's attention. "It would appear our dear Hermione has her first crush!"
Hermione shook her head, squeezing the textbooks to her stomach with a squeak.
Her father was laughing as well, though his eyes were following Gilderoy Lockhart make his way down the street through the store window.
"Mum!"
Perseus stood off to the side with Hermione's father as she and her mother browsed the store, searching aisle after aisle for books.
Perseus was confused. How could someone as bright and intelligent as Hermione not see what a fraud Gilderoy Lockhart was? Was a pretty face and a nice smile really so powerful?
Even without the knowledge afforded to him by his family history, it only took a bit of common sense to see the man was a fool.
"Are you alright, lad?"
Perseus resisted frowning. It should've been much harder than that to see his inner turmoil. Apparently he'd been slacking too much with his Occlumency practice—too distracted searching for muggle clothing.
Perseus looked up and gave a single nod. "Yes sir, I'm fine."
The man gave him a look of appraisal. "I must say Perseus, I don't see too many of your type wearing suits and the like around here."
Perseus wondered if he should be offended, being referred to as "your type", but decided it wasn't worth the effort it would require to object, especially not when the man was correct.
"Muggle fashion isn't exactly popular in Magical Britain, Mr. Granger." He said, watching Hermione out of the corner of his eye.
"Oh?" Arthur said, his brows raised into his bushy fringe. "It is more prevalent in other countries though?"
"Yes," Perseus said with a nod. "Where I live, in Milan, it is quite popular. It's very popular in countries like France and Australia as well. In America, I believe you'd be looked at strangely for wearing a robe."
"Ah," Arthur said, nodding as if something had just dawned on him. "So it's only Magical Britain that's this ass backwards, eh?"
Perseus tore his eyes away from Hermione, meeting the older man's gaze.
What exactly was his problem? He'd ignored the other comment easily enough, but this one—it was an insult, as clear as day.
Not only was Magical Britain his country, his family had helped found this country.
Still, he'd give the man a chance to explain himself before the urge to curse him became too overwhelming, for Hermione's sake.
Perseus titled his head, though it lacked the childlike innocence it usually carried. "I'm not quite sure what you mean by that, Mr. Granger."
Arthur raised his brow, and Perseus could feel his magic rolling around beneath his skin. "My wife and I read those history books you gave us," he said, resting his hands behind his back. "Thanks for those, by the way. We really hadn't been able to learn much of anything about the world our daughter would be going away to for 9 months out of the year."
Perseus couldn't keep his frown away now, but he didn't interrupt the man.
"We've come to learn that, as recently as 15 years ago, people like my daughter, my precious Princess, were being slaughtered in cold blood, for no reason other than her parents aren't a witch and wizard."
Perseus remained silent still, though his fury grew; a steady, quiet storm brewing inside of him. He could feel it, the cold, iciness filling him.
"And, if the books are to be believed, High Ranking members of your society , nobles, and cabinet officials, were involved, both directly and indirectly! And do you know something, Perseus ?" The man asked, mocking the very same name he had praised earlier. "Key among them, was member after member of the The Founding House of Black."
Perseus' fists were balled up at his side, and struggled with himself not to simply draw his wand and curse the man where he stood, best friend's father or not.
Did the man think he didn't understand the repercussions of his family's actions? Did he think that Perseus didn't have a constant reminder? Being unable to even speak loudly enough to be heard? That everytime he opened his mouth to talk, and felt the grating agony that was speaking, he didn't curse the actions of his family?
"And do know where those members of my house are, Mr. Granger?" Perseus just barely forced out, his anger constricting his throat even more than usual. "They are dead, imprisoned or disowned," Perseus shook his head in disgust. "If you wish to cast aspersions at the House of Black, here I am," he said, louder than he'd said anything in three years.
Hermione's father looked taken aback, his eyes wide.
Perseus glared at the man as hard he could with the burning fire building in his throat, ready to spew out of his mouth like a raging Dragon.
Before he knew it, the fire consumed his throat, like he drank a Neville Longbottom potion, and he was doubled over, hacking blood into his hand.
As painful as it was, Perseus made sure not a drop of blood escaped his hand.
"Perseus!" Hermione screamed, her mother rushing over right behind her.
"Here, lad," Arthur said, trying to offer Perseus a handkerchief.
Perseus reared away from the man, the handkerchief a reminder of Hermione's own actions only a few months before. How could someone so hateful create such a wonderful person?
"What happened?" Hermione demanded, staring at her father as she held Perseus up, patting his back.
"I-I don't know—one second he was fi—"
"Arthur Wendell Granger," Katherine began, rounding on the man. "What did you say to that boy?"
Arthur looked away guiltily, but refused to answer.
"Perseus, you need to see a healer again," Hermione said softly, squeezing his arm.
Perseus coughing fit petered out, leaving him sucking in heavy, ragged breaths.
He shook his head quickly, standing up, and looking around the shop, catching all the watching eyes before they could turn away.
He scolded himself in his head. Arguing with a muggle in the middle of Diagon Alley, like a common fool. His emotions had gotten the best of him, something that was completely unacceptable.
The murmuring of the few onlookers in the store suddenly sounded like a Quidditch World Cup Finals, and Perseus couldn't take it anymore. He'd be lucky if this didn't make its way back to his aunt.
Paling, he turned back to Hermione.
"I'll see you at Hogwarts," he just barely managed to get out, having to clear his throat once more.
With a nod at Hermione and her mother, he quickly left the shop, the protests at his back making no difference
Weaving his way through the crowded streets of Diagon, he made it back to the Leaky Cauldron. Stepping through the brick entrance, he made straight away for the floo, ignoring the farewell greeting of Tom, not that he could've said much had he wanted to.
He threw the floo dust into the fire, and with the last bit of energy he had, coughed out, "Palazzo Nero," before he disappeared in a flash.
