In light of recent events, Hermione was not inclined to go to Hogsmeade that weekend. She couldn't quite bring herself to spend time in sweet shops and joke shops when the image of Frau Hassel's skin crumbling away like sand kept running through her mind.

She had barely reached Orkney before she'd been pulled back to Hogwarts, leaving Gellert and Berg to deal with the poisoned soup and her ancestors. It was irritating enough that she was beginning to wonder if she could delay her return.

Instead, she kept Harry company as they strolled through the almost deserted halls, Sirius sniffing intently at every tapestry and corridor whilst Cavella did her utmost to trip them as she gambolled between their legs. Like her, Harry was in a pensive mood and he kept kicking at the protruding bumps in the stone floors.

'What's wrong?' Hermione eventually demanded as Harry once again skated off the stone he'd been aiming for and almost hit Cavella. Harry didn't reply straight away, formulating his response carefully.

'Are you really afraid of Grindelwald?' He asked. She glanced at him, cocking her head sideways. He elaborated quickly 'I mean, you talk about him like he's the best person in the world, but he's also your boggart.'

'I'm not afraid of Grindelwald.' Hermione answered decisively. She was reasonably certain of that; how could she be afraid of someone whom she'd regularly beaten in duels, sword fights and snow fights since she was nine. Yet, even as she thought that she remembered that Gellert was no longer the peer she knew. He was much older, his magic consequently matured to match. She was a powerful child, but she was still a child and he was an adult with the greater power that came with that along with decades of experience. She very much doubted that she would be able to beat him in a duel now - although she might still have him in a sword fight if it came down to it.

So, she pondered, was she afraid of Grindelwald in the modern age? The answer was a decisive no. She wasn't afraid of him, but perhaps she was afraid of what he could do. For a moment, she allowed herself to consider what it would be like if he was free.

She could tease him and rile him up in prison, surrounded by guards and warded within an inch of their lives but what if he reacted differently when she freed him. What if he was even further gone to the darkness and he was playing her. Could she rein him in if he went on a rampage again?

So, she was afraid of what Gellert could do, she was afraid that he was playing her. She already knew that she was terrified to discover that it had been her own disappearance which had triggered his actions in the past - had she somehow led to it?

She shook herself, refocusing on Harry. She couldn't possibly verbalise that without sounding half mad.

'I'm more afraid of what he represents.' She decided. It wasn't a lie. Gellert Grindelwald represented what happened when a revolution failed and she had no intention to end up like him. 'I'm afraid that I might lose the Gellert that I remember to Grindelwald.'

Harry nodded as though that made perfect sense.

'I think I know how we can practice our patronuses.' He changed the subject and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. 'I'm pretty sure my boggart would be a dementor.'

'Good idea.' Hermione agreed, shoving her hands into the pockets of her robes.

'Harry! Hermione!' Lupin called, his voice echoing down the corridor. The two teens turned to face him reluctantly. 'I was hoping to talk to you.'

He ushered them through the door that he had evidently just emerged from and they found themselves stepping into his office. Hermione smoother her robes instinctually before following. Sirius reluctantly followed, picking up Cavella by her scruff on his way.

'Tea?' Lupin asked, heading over to a small side desk. Hermione glanced over the decor, surprised that even the furniture seemed to fit Lupin's budget. She would have thought the school had plenty'Didn't manage to get your form signed then, Hermione?' Lupin asked kindly, boiling a kettle with a tap of his wand and pouring them each a cup of tea. She accepted it politely, conjuring herself a seat so that Harry could take the other one at the desk. Lupin nodded appreciatively, scrutinising the delicate woodwork of the chair that Hermione had copied from Morgana's study in Avalon.

'It was signed but I didn't feel like attending today.' Hermione shrugged and looked at her cup, wondering if she'd ever be able to drink something again without fearing that it was poisoned. Discretely, she vanished a small portion and returned the cup to the saucer on the desk.

'Fascinating.' Lupin murmured although Hermione couldn't tell what it was that he found fascinating in particular. Either he'd noticed that she'd vanished the drink, or he was truly that interested in her choices and Gellert's ability to sign forms. 'I was surprised that your guardian would be your boggart, particularly from what was said about you in the prophet.'

'I'm not afraid of Gellert.' Hermione said for perhaps the eighth time since that lesson. 'I'm afraid of failing in my responsibility to the family.'

Lupin hummed, taking a deep draught of his own tea. Harry copied, sipping nervously at his own.

'I've often wondered about the sorting process; we act as though loyalty is a Hufflepuff trait, yet I have never met anyone more loyal to the concept of family than a Slytherin. We assign the role of ambition to Slytherin, but I see a number of it's members truly have no ambition or forward planning. I've often wondered if the hat sorts us more on the qualities we wish to have, rather than those we possess.'

'I think the hat sorts us depending on what traits we value.' Hermione shrugged. When she'd been sorted, the hat had put her where it thought she would succeed, but perhaps that was because she was ambitious. Maybe Hufflepuffs were placed where they'd make friends?

An awkward silence descended.

'The hat gave me a choice.' Harry eventually muttered into his tea.

'Really?' Hermione asked curiously, twisting to look at him.

'Yeah. It was going to put me in Slytherin but I asked to go into Gryffindor. I didn't want to be in the same house as all the dark wizards.'

'Dark wizards?' Hermione demanded, the corner of her mouth curling up.

'I'm not as prejudiced now.' Harry pointed out reproachfully. 'I'd only spoken to Ron and Hagrid before that, and when I met Malfoy he didn't do much to change my mind!'

'You were in Gryffindor, weren't you, Professor?' Hermione asked, turning to Lupin who had been sitting in silence and watching them.

'I was.' He admitted.

'With my dad, right?' Harry asked, leaning forwards eagerly. 'You were mates. They named you after Sirius Black as my legal guardian in their will.'

'They did, James liked to ignore any rule or law that he thought was unfair - including the one that prevented me being your legal guardian and I'm not from an old family myself, so the intricacies of magical guardians and legal guardians and patriarchs... I'm not as well versed in such matters as I should be. I'm sorry, Harry.'

He looked truly remorseful and Hermione didn't doubt for a second that Lupin wished he could have provided for his friend's son. However, Hermione was also in complete agreement that it wouldn't have been appropriate to leave a young child in the care of a barely graduated werewolf who would not only struggle to receive a stable income but would also have to deal with his monthly transformations without the modern wolfsbane potion.

'Legal guardians and magical guardians are similar. A legal guardian is someone appointed to care for a child through either a will or another legal direction. It's legally recognised, but it's not actually binding magic. A magical guardian is a piece of ritual magic that makes the child and guardian magically related. Under the old laws, a magical guardian supersedes any legal writ, and can't be changed except by ritual disownment.' Hermione explained. 'Katerina took me into the Grindelwald family as a blood ward, which meant that she was my magical guardian and therefore my legal guardian. When she died, Gellert inherited that as her magical heir. The ministry can't change that, prison can't change that. Your parents, Harry, legally named Sirius as your guardian, followed by Lupin. With Sirius in prison, he's ineligible should the ministry choose to press the matter, and Professor Lupin is ineligible because he's a werewolf. If he'd been ritually named as a ward of House Potter, Sirius Black would become the magical guardian and the ministry wouldn't be able to change it.'

'I still don't understand how you remember all of this stuff.' Harry groaned.

'You'll have to too.' Hermione reminded him with a pointed finger. 'If you want to become a good head of house.'

Harry sighed, looked back up at Lupin.

'Hermione knows everything about this stuff; she's been teaching me.' He informed the teacher, who looked over her with his usual mild expression.

'Yes, I can believe she does. I would imagine Grindelwald is rather adamant about that.' Lupin waved his wand, floating the teapot back over and topping up all three cups. Hermione once more discretely vanished some after pretending to take a sip.

There was a moment of silence as Harry and Lupin sipped at their tea, the professor's eyes fixed contemplatively on the young witch as she in turn observed was looked like some kind of water demon in a large tank near the window. It waved at her, baring needle sharp teeth and plunging back to hide among the weeds near the bottom.

Lupin finished his tea, then placed the cup deliberately back on the chipped saucer. Hermione vanished the last of her tea and copied him.

'I did hope to talk to you about your dog, at some point?' Harry stiffened imperceptibly and Sirius dropped Cavella pointedly on her feet. The puppy yapped in protest, recovered, then bounded over to sniff at the tank, little tail wagging with enough force to make her whole body sway.

'Actually,' Hermione brushed off his query, 'I hoped to speak with you about something somewhat more time sensitive. It's about the werewolf registration laws.'

As she'd intended, Lupin's thought process was thrown so far off by the mention of his affliction that she doubted he'd even want her in the office long enough to examine Sirius. She tried not to smirk as the werewolf took a moment to steady himself, adjusting his empty teacup and saucer and then finally looking back up at her.

'Yes?' He finally replied cautiously. Hermione decided to be merciful.

'It's barbaric, really.' She continued, 'Unfortunately, I don't have the influence yet to do anything about it in the legal forum.'

'Yes.' Lupin agreed neutrally.

'However, I do have a rather large property, with... let me see...' She bent over and rummaged in her bag, pulling out the folder with her notes and flipping it open to the first page. 'Cage, bars of minimum diameter 3/4 inch, maximum gap of half a foot. Cellar or dungeon, door constructed of hardwood with minimum thickness of two inches and banded with steel. Walls of stone with minimum thickness one foot... Technically it's a prison, but I'm sure the ministry wouldn't object to the technical differences between a cage and a prison cell.'

'What are you saying?' Lupin demanded, his eyebrows pulled together into a frown.

'I'm saying that I want to provide employment to eighteen werewolves. The finances are a little tricky; it would be a very low wage but I would include accommodation for both the werewolf and any family they may have, wolfsbane brewed by a potions master and meals, so the pay would really just be pocket money.'

Lupin's jaw dropped.

'You want to employ werewolves...'

'I do. What Umbridge and the ministry are doing is wrong. Werewolves are victims, not criminals and should not be treated as such. I would love to be able to offer wolfsbane free of charge, but I can't afford to do that. What I can do is employ the werewolves to work on the estate; most of it is menial work, growing the ingredients for both the wolfsbane and a number of other potions, repairing and maintaining the buildings... but at least Umbridge wont have forced them out onto the streets.'

For a minute, Lupin just gaped. His mouth opened, closed, opened again, he cleared his throat, closed his mouth.

'I've spoken to Gellert.' Hermione continued, 'he's agreed to allow me to harvest from House Grindelwald land, and he's also approved an initial investment from his vaults and I will be writing to the potion's guild to look into employing a potions master...'

'Are you certain?' Lupin interrupted her, his eyes lit with fervent light.

'Absolutely.' She tossed her hair. 'Umbridge won't like it, but I've done some asking around and it seems that very few people actively hate werewolves. Fear seems dominant, but as long as the wolf is safely restrained and unlikely to infect anyone, most people don't care.'

'I think it's a great idea. Avalon needs loads of work, so she's going to have to employ someone anyway and werewolves are naturally stronger. Her guardians go through loads of skelegro too, so she'll save money on that if she employs a potioneer.' Harry piped in. Hermione rolled her eyes; the guardians had indeed discovered skelegro and they loved the stuff. Unsurprisingly, having no skin or muscles meant that they often broke bones or even just wore them down. Previously, they'd used some elementary potion to encourage healing as if they were still living beings with fleshy bodies.

'That's very generous of you, Hermione.' Lupin finally managed.

'I was hoping you might be able to pass the word around to some of your contacts. I'd take out an ad in the prophet but I doubt anyone is going to declare they're a werewolf to a Grindelwald.' She laughed as if she wasn't still furious with Gellert for his prejudice. It was even worse because she knew he wasn't prejudiced against half-breeds and lycanthropes, yet he'd allowed that impression to propagate among his followers. Failing to speak up when he'd had the authority to influence people was as bad as believing it himself because at least if he'd believed it he would have just been an ignorant fool rather than someone who let terrible things happen because they benefited him. 'I'm hoping that you might be able to... endorse me, somewhat.'

'I'll see what I can do.' Lupin promised, still seeming somewhat caught between shock and disbelief. She rewarded him with a dazzling grin.

'Excellent. Harry, I'm going to head down to the library and see if I can find the contact details for the potion's guild. Would you like to come?'

'You might ask Professor Snape.' Lupin advised as they both stood. 'I believe he is a member.'

Hermione and Harry's oases wrinkled simultaneously. Snape hated Harry with a passion, and although he didn't hate Hermione, she would still rather take her chances with an owl to the potion master's guild that speak to the dour man.

'Oh, and Hermione?' Lupin called just before the door shut behind them. She paused, glancing back at him. 'Ostendeo Rebus - it's a handy little spell that should tell you if there's anything unexpected in your food.'

She started, then narrowed her eyes in his direction. How did Lupin know what had happened in Germany? How did he know that she'd been planning to look for a spell precisely like that as soon as she reached the library.

'I do hope you'll drink your tea next time. I've been told I make it rather well.' He smiled at her, waving the cup that she'd spent the past half an hour vanishing tea from. Her cheeks flamed in embarrassment but she couldn't help but sag in relief that he didn't know. Nobody knew.