A/N: So…my computer completely crashed, and dumped this entire chapter and I had to write the entire thing all over again. Except I do not have an eidetic memory, and therefore it's not exactly the same as what I had originally written. When it happened, I just wanted to sit down and cry. A lot. So I'm super sorry that this chapter was later than scheduled.
Christmas Holiday, Winter 1977
Potter Manor, and affiliated properties
Château Dangereuse had quickly become a safe haven for Hermione, and was one of her favorite places to spend her time. After the initial fear of their daughter somehow being in danger, the Potters had resigned themselves to this little rebellion of Hermione's. Dorea argued that if this small thing gave her a sense of freedom then they should thank the Fates. They both knew that their headstrong daughter could have attempted any number of things to assert her independence, up to, and including, running off to muggle London or any number of incredibly dangerous things. That all she wanted to do was catalogue the libraries of her dower homes was anticlimactic, and her mother considered it a boon and a blessing. Life at the Evans home was increasingly uncomfortable for Lily since her sister's engagement to Vernon Dursley, and part way through the Christmas holiday a tear stained letter had been brought to Hermione by Eleanor, Lily's owl. Charlus and James had gone at once to collect Lily, and speak with her parents. On some days, Lily helped her in the libraries, where their true purpose was researching ways to destroy Horcruxes. Other days, she spent exploring her burgeoning relationship with James. Hermione watched her brother fumble charmingly around the red-headed witch. He was trying so hard to do everything right, and his earnestness won Lily over more than anything else. Hermione had her own eager puppy, but he allowed her the space and privacy to work in her various libraries. If certain other activities took place in her Château, no one was the wiser. Hermione was seated at her desk, reading through an ancient, crumbling volume that seemed to have some interesting leads. It seemed as though there was an old powerful purification spell that could banish extremely dark magic like Horcruxes.
That just might work.
It might at that. Have I told you lately how jealous I am of your pureblood libraries?
Perhaps I shall develop a muggleborn lending library. Would that please you?
Oh, yes! Would you really do that? That would be incredible!
Of course I would really do it. Merlin knows that Sirius and I will end up with disgusting amounts of money. We might as well do something useful.
But your dad said your dowry was 'comfortable'.
Yes, Daddy has very skewed notions about what constitutes 'comfortable'. So does Sirius Uncle Alphard. I've got millions of galleons, and so does Sirius.
Oh. Well make it a really big library then.
"Madame?" The French house elf stood hesitantly at her elbow. He was shifting nervously, and that immediately drew Hermione's attention.
"Oui, Pepe?" Hermione replied. He tugged on his ears, and then began to speak quickly in broken French. Hermione winced internally.
"There is a woman who has had an accident. She is being at the ward's boundaries and she is needing help," Pepe said anxiously, wringing his little hands. Hermione jumped to her feet and followed Pepe to where the injured woman was. She was right where the little house elf had said, she'd obviously fallen hard and broken her leg. She was also heavily pregnant, and if Hermione wasn't mistaken she was in labor.
"M'aidez!" The woman panted heavily. Hermione spoke soothingly to her, and touched her leg lightly, numbing it with a wandless, nonverbal spell. The woman started. "Vous êtes une sorcière?"
"Oui, Maintenez toujours s'il vous plait," Hermione said while she tried to determine the extent of the woman's injuries. Well, if the woman knew what she was, then chances were it would do no harm to help her as much as she could. She healed the broken leg, and levitated the laboring woman through the wards and into her home.
"Notty!" Hermione called frantically. Notty popped in and her eyes widened in surprise. "She's broken her leg, and she's in labor. I need you to fashion a birthing tub for me. Organize the female house elves. Get sterile cloths and water. Oh! She can't put any weight on her leg, so get a birthing stool for inside the tub, too."
"Yes, Mistress!" Notty said immediately, and popped out to carry out her mistress' bidding.
"You are Eengleesh?" The woman managed to grit out. Hermione turned back to her.
"Oui, mais je parle très bien français. N'ayez pas peur, nous allons prendre soin de vous et le bébé," Hermione tried to soothe the laboring woman. She nodded gratefully.
"Yes, I can see that you are very kind," she managed to get out.
Fifteen hours later, the female house elves were cleaning and tending to an adorable baby girl, and Hermione was very carefully healing the new mother. Then she cleaned her, dressed her in a loose dressing gown, and carefully levitated her to a large bed that she'd transfigured in the corner of her parlor. The mother held out her arms and Notty placed the baby girl carefully into them. The mother cuddled her baby close and looked up at Hermione gratefully.
"You saved us both. I thought that the Château was empty, if it had been, I would be dead, and so would she," the woman said in heavily accented English. Hermione protested, and the woman held up her hand. "No, when I fell I not only broke my leg, I also snapped my wand. I would have died there with the babe inside me."
"What were you doing out there?" Hermione demanded. The woman blushed and shook her head.
"I was looking for the mistletoe and the holly," she explained. "It is the first Noël for my husband and I in our own home. I wanted it to be special."
"I see," Hermione said carefully. "We should send an owl to your husband. He is probably frantic with worry."
"Oui," the woman said wryly. Hermione smiled at her.
"What is his name? I'll need to address the letter for the owl," Hermione asked gently.
"Thierry Delacour," the woman replied. She gave a start, and stared at Hermione. "Je suis tellement désolé, I did not give you my name. How rude of me! I am Apolline Delacour."
You must be joking.
Shush. It isn't her fault. The Château is in France, we were bound to run into some French people at some point.
But the Delacours? Really?
I have no control over these things. Complaining to me does nothing except give me migraines.
"And I am Hermione Potter," she said politely. "Now let's get this letter off to your husband."
Thierry Delacour had indeed been frantic when he couldn't find his heavily pregnant wife. He had apparated almost instantly to her property, and had been profuse in his thanks for saving his family. He and Apolline had begged Hermione to be the godmother to their infant who they had decided to name Fleur. Hermione understood their reasoning. In magical terms, the Delacour family owed Hermione Potter a huge debt that they could most likely never repay. By making Hermione the godmother of little Fleur, they could alleviate some of the debt, and create a magical relationship that bound their families together. Finally, Hermione capitulated, and agreed to be Fleur's godmother despite the grumbling of Old Hermione. Thierry and Apolline were relieved and thanked her profusely. Hermione flicked her wand and transfigured a piece of holly that her house elves had brought in for the new mother. In her hands was a tiny bracelet that just fit round the baby's wrist. It was finely wrought silver, and in the center was a small engraved flower.
"Godmothers are supposed to give the baby a gift, no? It will grow with her, so you need not worry that it will constrict her wrist," Hermione said with a smile. She placed the bracelet on the baby, and held her hands over the child until they glowed softly. "May this child know the love and laughter of friends and family. May she grow up brave, strong, and true. May she be a beacon in the wasteland, a star in the night, a guiding lamp in the woods. May she always be true to herself, and may she follow her heart. So mote it be."
"Merci." Apolline was crying, and Thierry blinked rapidly.
"We go now, but we will meet again as soon as Apolline is feeling better," Thierry said firmly. Hermione nodded and hugged them both. She kissed the baby on the brow.
"Au revoir, petite Fleur," Hermione whispered to the sleeping baby.
HP/HG/HP
"Augh! My eyes!" James complained as he clapped his hand over his eyes. Sirius sighed, and Hermione moved off of his lap and sat demurely in a nearby chair.
"You know, I've caught you and Lily all over this house doing the most shocking things, and I never shrieked like a girl," Sirius said sourly, glaring at his friend. James snorted.
"Lily is not your sister. If I was snogging Regulus, I doubt you'd be so cavalier," James huffed indignantly. Hermione wrinkled her nose at the thought of James and Regulus kissing. She couldn't picture them together at all. James would just irritate Regulus, and he'd hex him. Regulus needed someone who was serious, like he was. Someone who was meticulous and studious, who cared about the sorts of things that he cared about.
"Sweet merciful Nimue!" She gasped, and sat bolt upright.
Are you thinking what I think you're thinking?
Maybe…but they might not even be attracted to one another, and then it's all academic.
But they would be perfect for one another.
Hmmm. Maybe.
"What is it, kitten?" Sirius asked her, worry in his grey eyes. She shook her head.
"Nothing, er, just thinking about Christmas presents for all of you," Hermione said with a weak smile. Sirius quirked a brow.
"Can my present not come in a box?" He leered suggestively. Hermione chuckled and rolled her eyes.
"That's not amusing at all," James growled. Hermione shook her curls at her twin.
"Oh, Jamie, he's just kidding," she sighed.
"I don't want to hear jokes like that, ever. I don't care if you two have been married for a hundred years," James said with disgust. Hermione rolled her eyes at Sirius and he grinned at her and winked.
"You'll still be the most beautiful witch in the world, even at 117," Sirius swore. Hermione got up from her chair and went back to his lap. He settled her against him, and wrapped an arm around her waist. James grunted in disgust, and Sirius just smirked at him. He leaned close to Hermione's ear and breathed into it. "I wasn't kidding."
She turned to look at him in surprise, and his dark grey eyes were smoldering at her. She blinked, and worried her plump, bottom lip between her teeth. Sirius visibly swallowed and shifted slightly under her. She could feel him growing hard underneath her and smiled smugly at him.
"Perhaps," she murmured, her hazel eyes glowing at him. He grew even harder and she smirked.
"You're playing with fire, witch," Sirius growled in her ear.
"So what are you getting me?" James asked eagerly.
"I think that we should keep it a surprise, Jamie-love," Hermione said gently. James pouted and she rolled her eyes.
"Some days, I swear it's like we're dating first years," Lily said dryly from the doorway. Hermione snickered into her hand, and squealed when Sirius pinched her bum. She hopped off his lap and glared at him.
"Maybe you won't get any presents," she declared with a sniff, and moved toward Lily who linked her arm through Hermione's and smiled at her. Hermione smiled back, but then her smile faltered and her eyes widened.
"Hermione?" She heard Lily call her name, but it sounded as though it was coming from a distance.
It was a muggle neighborhood, she could tell because all the houses were in neat, orderly rows. Little cookie cutter houses with their neat, orderly little lawns, and their odd 'lawn art' lined the street. Hermione looked up and down the street trying to figure out which of all these houses was the one she needed to go to. She felt a pull down the street and she followed it unwillingly. She stopped in front of one of the houses and frowned. She knew this house, didn't she? In a panic, she wondered if perhaps it were Lily's house, but then she realized that it was not. The family that lived here looked nothing like the Evans family. There was a father, a mother and three children: a boy and two girls. When the Death Eaters came, Hermione knew that one of them was Peter. She wished that he was Imperiused. She wished that he hated what was happening, but his grating laugh raked across her nerves and she knew deep within herself that he was enjoying it. She turned away because she couldn't bear to watch. Hearing was almost as bad. She cried and cried for the muggles who had done nothing except live on this street. She focused her attention on the house number, and then ran to see the street name.
"Hermione?!" Sirius' voice was frantically calling her name.
She was sobbing, and choking on her tears. She could feel that her face was wet, feel her chest shuddering with each breath. Arms were tight about her, and she knew from the feel of them that it was Sirius. James always felt different. She blinked rapidly, and her eyes shifted from black to her normal hazel. Sirius pulled her close to him and murmured in her ear, his hands stroking her, soothing her. It calmed her down, and her breathing returned to normal. Lily looked sick to her stomach, and James' face was a stony mask.
"What did I say?" Hermione asked, suddenly nervous.
"Not much," Sirius whispered against her temple. "You muttered something about a poor muggle family that hadn't done anything to anyone."
"You…you said Peter's name, and you looked completely repulsed," Lily said softly, her eyes huge. Hermione's face turned slightly green and she shuddered in Sirius' arms.
"He…he likes doing it," she whispered. "I could tell that he was having fun."
Sirius' arms tightened around her and his face became twisted with rage. He very carefully helped her up, and led her toward Lily. Then he paced the room, his expression turning darker and darker. James looked coldly furious, but he didn't pace. Instead he watched Sirius, his lips tight with anger. The two blood-brothers turned and looked at one another and they left the room without a word. Lily turned to look at Hermione, confusion and hurt in her expressive green eyes. Hermione shook her head slightly and hugged her blood-sister tightly.
"Where did they go?" Lily asked quietly. Hermione lifted up one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug.
"I'm not sure. It's possible that they've gone to see Remus. It's also possible they've gone and shifted into their Animagus forms so that they can run off their stress. It's also possible they've gone to punch walls. I just don't know," Hermione finished sadly, looking after them.
"Hermione…has it already happened yet? The muggle family?" Lily asked cautiously. Hermione thought for a moment and then shook her head.
"No, not yet. It will be soon though," she replied.
"What if we put up protective wards?" Lily asked curiously. "What if we went to their house and tried to save them? You know where they live, right?"
"We could do that," Hermione said excitedly. "Come on, Lils!"
The muggle neighborhood looked just as it had in Hermione's vision. It was dark now, naturally. One didn't traipse through a muggle neighborhood in broad daylight and cast protective wards. It was the sort of thing muggles tended to notice. The girls worked well together after years of friendship and group projects. They had the house warded quickly and efficiently. It would be enough to keep the Death Eaters away, anyway. Lily was viewing their handiwork with a smile of satisfaction, and Hermione smiled at her. It felt good to know that they had done something that would save lives. Hermione's glance took in the rest of the neighborhood and she frowned. All the little cookie cutter houses marching in their neat rows made her think of something.
"Lily," she murmured cautiously. "Why d'you suppose they chose this family? Why not one of the other families?"
"I don't know, Hermione," Lily said with a frown. "Why?"
"I just…I think maybe we should do this whole street. What if they become angry and pick another family? If the whole street is protected…maybe they'll give up and leave," Hermione explained. Lily frowned for a moment and then nodded.
"No, you're absolutely right. Let's do the whole street," Lily said with a determined glint in her eyes.
The time it took to ward one house was negligible, but by the time they'd done the whole street they were exhausted. Lily and Hermione apparated back to Potter Manor, and dragged themselves up to their respective bedrooms. Hermione changed into her nightgown, and tried to lie down, but everytime she closed her eyes she could see the poor muggle family struggling, and hear Pettigrew's laughter. Hermione tossed and turned for an hour, and eventually snuck down the hall to Sirius' room. She stood outside his door for several long moments, shifting anxiously from foot to foot.
Is there a really good reason why we're not in that bed already?
Um, well, I…
So that would be a big fat no then. I worry about you, you know that? The boy has one of the most incredible bodies I have ever seen, and I've seen quite a few, and he's all yours.
This isn't about sex!
Honey, I know it isn't. I was trying to tease you. I should have known better. What are you worried about?
Usually, when I'm upset I go see Jamie. He holds me and he tells me everything will be okay. Sometimes he just holds me, and that's fine, too. I just need to be near him, and I start to feel better.
We can go see Jamie. I'm sure he would hold you.
But I want Sirius.
So we can go see Sirius.
But…
Listen, your brother loves you, and he'll always love you, but he does realize that you have a suitor—Merlin's beard—a husband-to-be, basically. I'm sure he'd realized that certain things are going to fall to Sirius from now on.
But…
No! No more dancing in the hallway like you have to pee. Go to Sirius. I think it will really mean something to him that you turned to him for comfort.
Hermione took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and slipped into Sirius' bedroom. It was dark, of course, but her animagus-sharpened senses allowed her to make her way unerringly to the side of his bed. He was on his back, the blankets pulled up to his chin. She could hear his deep, steady breathing, and smiled to herself. She lifted the counterpane carefully and slid into bed next to Sirius. She snuggled up next to him, wrapping an arm around him, and laying her head on his bare chest. He started slightly, and turned toward her, his arms slipping around her waist.
"Hermione?" He whispered in astonishment.
"I couldn't sleep," she murmured. "I just kept seeing them…and hearing his laughter."
"Merlin's lacy knickers," Sirius swore, and his arms tightened around her. "I'm sorry that you had to see it…see him."
"Thank you, Sirius," she whispered in the dark.
"Do you need me to do anything?" He asked uncertainly.
"Hold me?" She whispered. He pulled her against his chest and kissed her on the nose.
"Forever," he said so softly that only someone with enhanced hearing could have heard him. She smiled in the dark and kissed his chest. She snuggled against his chest and sighed contentedly.
HP/HG/HP
"One assumes that there is some pressing need for you to call all three of us here," Lucius drawled in a slightly bored tone as he wandered about the parlor of her Château. Severus and Regulus gave slight nods of agreement. Hermione did not react at all. She remained perfectly calm, perfectly composed; Severus thought of it as her Slytherin face. Whenever they were alone, just the Order of the Lioness or the Knights of the Lady or whatever silly name Lucius had come up with this time, Hermione dropped her outer persona, and shifted to this cool, collected warrior and strategist. She was a little frightening sometimes, but she was not nearly as disturbing as Voldemort so the three of them ignored the little shiver of fear when those eyes turned to them.
"Have you heard anything about the Horcruxes yet?" Hermione asked coolly. The three of them shook their heads.
"Nothing," Lucius replied. She pursed her lips and seemed to be thinking to herself.
"How is Rabastan coming along?" She asked, turning to Regulus.
"He will be ready soon," Regulus said carefully. "We are both younger brothers, and he feels that I understand him. He obeys Rudolphus immediately, without question, but he has not yet seen the true nature of the beast. I think that when he does, he will come to me. He knows that I have taken on the responsibilities of my family, so he feels that I am someone safe to talk to."
"Safe?" Hermione asked, quirking a brow at Regulus who shrugged.
"I am a Death Eater, which means his brother would approve of my influence on Rabastan," Regulus explained. Hermione nodded slightly.
"What about you, Lucius. You had said that there were possibles," Hermione asked turning the power of her gaze toward him. He looked at her impassively, his pale silver eyes inscrutable.
"What about Pettigrew?" He asked mildly, watching her face, which twisted in distaste.
"No," she said flatly. "He's having far too much fun to be of use to us."
"But, he's in Gryffindor," Severus said in surprise. Hermione growled low in her throat.
"A person's house does not dictate the nature of their spirit," she said coldly. "Is everyone in Slytherin a Death Eater?"
"Well, no, of course not," Lucius snapped. "There are the unaffiliated families, and then there are those who have not been deemed worthy of interest."
"It's Slytherin," Hermione said dryly. "How many of those unworthies do you think are faking poor skills, just as I am?"
"Sweet Morgana," Regulus breathed, his eyes wide. "Do you want me to approach the unaffiliated families? Or the unworthies?"
"You must be even more subtle than a Slytherin," Hermione said mildly, weighing him with her eyes.
"I'm a Black," Regulus said calmly. Hermione's lips twitched ever so slightly.
"Indeed," she drawled, "but don't let that hold you back."
"I can do it, domina," Regulus said firmly. Hermione's eyes narrowed.
"Fine," she said at last. "You may attempt it, but be exceeding careful, Regulus."
"If one might be so bold," Lucius drawled in a bored tone, "I do have other possibles. I merely suggested Pettigrew because I knew he was a confidant of your brother. I pondered whether or not he might be a plant.'
"He is no longer a confidant of my brother or his friends," Hermione said coldly. "Who are these others you mentioned?"
"Wilkes," Lucius said thoughtfully. "And Flint, I think. Their families were pressured, or threatened. They seem unhappy, and I think they might prove useful."
"You had certain measures planned," Hermione continued, and Lucius nodded almost imperceptibly. "We will use those. No one but you three can know who I am. The visions are starting to come more often, and it will put me at a greater risk. It is only a matter of months now, and then I'll be done with Hogwarts. Regulus will need to keep an eye on things there, and keep cultivating those like Rabastan."
"Why are you so interested in Rabastan," Severus demanded, his face pinched slightly with concern for her. She shook her black curls at him.
"He will become a key asset," she said quietly, her eyes looking at things that they could not see. "The Horcruxes will be hidden for safekeeping. Voldemort will choose from among those he trusts, but every single Death Eater will be a pureblood. Malfoy will be given the diary, Black will be used to hide the necklace, and the LeStranges will be given the cup, and they will take their duty seriously; they will hide the cup in their Gringott's vault. Rabastan will be the only way we can acquire the cup. We must have him. Without him, we'll fail."
"Then we will have him," Lucius said mildly, his eyes on Regulus.
"As you say, domina, so shall it be done," Regulus said softly. Hermione grimaced slightly.
"Must you do that," she growled. Regulus smirked at her.
"I'm a Black," he said simply. Hermione's lips twitched slightly.
"Indeed," she murmured looking at Lucius, who rolled his eyes.
"We must go soon," Severus said quietly, looking anxious. They all nodded, and the men stood up as one unit. Hermione hid a brief smile. She hugged and kissed all of them.
"All of you, be safe," she whispered as they left. They nodded.
"You too, domina," Lucius said softly, his silver eyes on her face.
"I will be," she scoffed lightly. Severus quirked a sable brow at her and she sighed.
"Please, domina," Severus whispered, touching her cheek with his knuckles. "You are far too dear to us for you to risk yourself."
"Gratias enim vestrum, mea milites. Credere quod ego secures," Hermione said with an austere grace that would not have looked out of place on Minerva McGonagall's namesake.
HP/HG/HP
Lily and Hermione were sprawled on their stomachs in the library, researching spontaneous bonds, or as this particular book liked to refer to them—natural bonds. Most of what she read bothered her because none of it seemed to match her current situation. Lily was reading most of it with her brow furrowed. She was making notes for herself to refer to later. Hermione sighed. She was almost relieved to see her father in the doorway to the library. She stood up immediately and went to him. His brown eyes were solemn.
"Princess," he said quietly. She smiled up at him.
"Yes, Daddy?"
"Would you walk with me?" He asked her gallantly, holding out his elbow. She smiled and slid her hand through the crook of his arm. They walked quietly to the Grand Gallery, and they walked along companionably under the portraits of their ancestors. Hermione waited patiently as they neared the end of the gallery, where their oldest ancestors were hung. Charlus Potter stopped under a large portrait of a beautiful woman, who was watching them warily.
"This is Sapientia Peverell," Charlus said quietly. Hermione looked up at the woman in the portrait and nodded to her.
"You're wearing the pendant," Sapientia said after a moment. "So you must be the first born daughter of the house."
"I am," Hermione acknowledged.
"Do you bear the other gifts of your house," Sapientia asked her warily, watching her carefully. Hermione looked back at Sapientia, and bit her lip.
"Perhaps," Hermione said finally. Sapientia nodded.
"It's been a long time since our family has had a Seer," Sapientia noted.
"That was my understanding as well," Hermione agreed.
"The pendant was given to Mother to protect her," Sapientia informed her quietly.
"You're…you're the daughter of Gloswinda Gryffindor?" Hermione asked faintly. Sapientia nodded slowly.
"Yes. Mother was a Seer. No one knows that bit, it's a family secret. Father made the pendant himself to protect Mother during their betrothal period. He was worried she might be hurt before they could be bonded," Sapientia explained. Hermione stared at her pendant.
"What can it do?" Hermione asked curiously. Sapientia watched her for a moment, and then shrugged.
"I'm not quite sure. The pendant is only activated if its wearer is in mortal peril, and when we aren't Seers, the women in our family don't generally have issues with mortal peril. I would recommend that you never take it off," Sapientia said firmly.
"Mum told me to never take it off," Hermione remembered. Sapientia nodded. She looked toward Charlus Potter.
"Can you leave us alone for a moment, Charlus?" Sapientia asked him gently. He bowed slightly and Hermione turned to watch him retreat to the end of the Grand Gallery. Sapientia turned back to Hermione.
"You are the one who is two, yes?" Sapientia asked her urgently. Hermione's mouth dropped open.
"I—I, yes," she replied.
"Mother foresaw your coming," Sapientia explained. "Our family's power of Sight has always been tied to the family itself."
"We See things that affect our family," Hermione whispered, understanding immediately.
"You who were and you who are Hermione have been and are very important to our family," Sapientia said with a slight smile.
"That is very confusing," Hermione muttered.
"True," Sapientia admitted. Then she grew solemn, and stared at Hermione. "I have information that you will need. Mother left you a journal. If you go to the library, there are two wall sconces on either side of the doors. Turn the one on the left a quarter-turn to the right. A door will open. It leads to a small room which contains Mother's notes for you, and her journal."
"Is that everything?" Hermione asked with wide eyes. Sapientia bit her lip, much the same way Hermione did, and stared at her descendent for several long minutes.
"Yes, but it doesn't make much sense," Sapientia said uncertainly. Hermione tossed her hair.
"Tell me anyway," Hermione commanded. "I may understand what it means."
"Right, just before Mother died, she said to tell the Two Hermiones that…she said to trust in the dog, he was true to you always…in both lives. She said…she said to trust your magic. It knew the truth," Sapientia said uncomfortably.
"Wait, how could he be true to me in both lives?" Hermione asked with a small frown. Sapientia frowned as well.
"You know the dog?" Sapientia asked urgently. Hermione nodded.
"Of course," she said with a slight smile.
"That is what Mother said, I don't know what it means, that's your job," Sapientia said wryly. Hermione frowned.
"But…what about trusting my magic? I do already," Hermione muttered in confusion.
"Get her journal, and her notes. That will tell you what you need to know," Sapientia said firmly. Hermione nodded.
"Thank you," she said to her ancestor. Sapientia smiled.
HP/HG/HP
I am not certain when the Two Hermiones will come, the visions of that time are so bizarre, and confused. In some of them Hermione and the Dog are the same age…and in some he is much older than she is, and he does not recognize her. I wonder if it is some odd curse that is cast upon the both of them. In the visions where they are the same age, she is the one who does not believe what their magic is telling them, and it causes them both incredible pain. I wish I could change that for her. I see several possible futures for her. In the futures where she refuses to believe in her magic, he ends up repudiating her, and she removes herself from his life, and the family completely. She moves to France and raises their two children herself. I cry after those visions because she is always so sad, and so alone. He attempts to fill his life with other things, but nothing can fill the void that she leaves in his heart and in his life. In the other visions, he is much older than she, and he refuses to believe that such a thing is possible—and especially not with a person he considers a child. He becomes reckless with his safety, and he dies for his godson. Those visions make me cry, too, because he is so happy to die. He feels it redeems him, and saves him from defiling her. She is left alone to carry on, and that too is sad.
Hermione…when you read this, please believe…for both your sakes'.
Hermione frowned at the journal. She believed in her magic. What was Gloswinda trying to tell her? She flipped through the journal, frowning. She found entries about all sorts of things—many with neat notation in the corners from other family Seers, noting when the vision came to pass. All of the Hermione entries were note free. Hermione's hands shook as she read the entries. It was so odd to hear about her possible futures.
Hermione must never take off the pendant. Each time she does, she places it on the Dog to save him—and yet still she denies her magic! I have seen her take off the pendant countless times, and each time she dies it is more horrible than the last. In several, there is a Dark Lord who traps her as a direct result. Those always end badly. She either kills herself, or he tortures her and then kills her.
All right, then, Hermione decided. She was never taking off the pendant. Not even to save Sirius. That thought twisted something inside her, and she tried not to think about situations where she would need to save Sirius.
What does she mean, I need to trust my magic? And Sirius was drawn to you. You said you loved him. Your patronus was…is Padfoot.
Yes, I loved him. I don't think…I didn't think…I mean sometimes when he got drunk he would say things…snarky, bitchy things. If Remus was there he would rein Sirius in, and he always said "It's not her fault, Padfoot. You can't blame her for this." I thought he meant the fact that Sirius had to live at number 12. Or the fact that he'd suffered in Azkaban.
How old were you when he died?
Fifteen.
I'm sorry.
I got used to it. I never got over it, but I got used to it. Isn't that odd?
No. It isn't at all.
So he loved me. I wonder if somehow…he knew, or his soul knew?
It's possible, I suppose.
Hermione couldn't sleep after reading what Gloswinda Gryffindor had to say about her possible future, and Old Hermione's past. She ended up reading the book she'd been reading earlier—about natural bonds. The information was fascinating, and Hermione found herself engrossed in the book. What she called a spontaneous bond, this author insisted on calling 'natural bonds'. The author, Verity Selwyn, claimed that marriage bonding rituals were an artificial replacement for natural bonding. She likened them to wandless, nonverbal spells, or more accurately, to an expression of accidental magic brought on by incredibly strong emotions, usually love.
But that's impossible!
What's impossible?
Natural bonds are brought about by love.
Okay…why is that impossible?
Sirius doesn't love me.
Honey, I don't know if there's ever been a time that that boy hasn't loved you.
But he can't!
Why not?
I—I…but…
Hermione. Sirius loves you. He's going to marry you.
Marriage has nothing to do with love.
On what planet?
This one. In my world, among the purebloods, love isn't even considered. Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy will grow to love one another. Right now, they have respect, companionship, and caring. This is what most pureblood girls hope and pray for—someone who will be kind to them, and treat them well.
That is beyond sad, that you're holding up the Malfoys as an ideal marriage. OH! Oh, you! You're doing it right now!
I'm doing what?
You're denying what the magic is telling you. It's telling you that he loves you, and you love him. If you deny him…it gets bad. You read the same visions that I did. Do you really want to live completely separated from everyone? I mean, I like France, and I'm not knocking Beauxbatons for your children, but it sounded like you were miserable.
He…loves…me?
Oh for Merlin's sake. I give up. Go live in France and be utterly alone and miserable. Just remember, you've got me in here and I'll be happy to remind you about how much you screwed up every single day for as long as you live. Hell, I may figure out how to do it after we're dead, too.
Hermione hurried upstairs as quickly and as silently as she could. There was no one awake at this hour, and she found her way to Sirius' room easily. Once she was inside his room, she warded it and silenced it with every spell she could think of. Sirius was sprawled in the bed, but his hand was flung out on 'her side' of the bed, and he was turned toward where she normally lay in the bed. She stripped to her skin and slid into bed. He knew she was there, even in his sleep, he murmured something and shifted closer, pulling her against him.
"Sirius?" She whispered, stroking the skin of his bare chest. He grumbled in his sleep, and his arms tightened around her. One hand stroked down, as it was wont to do, and when it reached her bum, his eyes flew open.
"Hermione?" He said faintly. She smiled at him.
"Yes?"
"Um, you're naked," he whispered carefully. She nodded.
"I know."
"Why are you naked?" he demanded in a fierce whisper. Hermione put her hands on his chest and closed her eyes. She focused on how much she loved Sirius, how much he meant to her, and how much she wanted him. "What are you doing? Is that you? Hermione, stop that right now!"
"Why?" She asked curiously.
"It makes me want to take you right here, right now," he groaned, pressing against her so that she could feel what he meant.
"What's wrong with that?" Hermione asked patiently. He frowned at her.
"What do you mean?" He demanded.
"Do you love me?" she asked quietly.
"Yes," he said simply. She could see it in his eyes, now that she knew what to call it. It was that strange something that had always been there. She pulled his head to hers and pressed her lips against his mouth. Panic was beginning to set in. Hermione was warm, and willing, and very, very naked. Sirius wasn't sure if this was real or not. He pulled back and frowned at her. "Hermione?"
"I love you," she said firmly. She kissed him again, and he returned the kiss eagerly. She could feel her magic wrapping around him in little tendrils, and she could feel his doing the same thing. Those little tendrils were like delicate little caresses of magic. She could feel his magic touching her everywhere. She returned the favor, and he made a strangled noise.
"Wait," he managed to gasp. She pulled back and watched him for a moment. He looked at her carefully. "Why right now?"
"I realized that I loved you," she said quietly. "I mean, I have for a while, but I didn't realize that that's what it was."
"I see," he said slowly, frowning slightly.
"You're mad," she said in confusion. His arms tightened briefly.
"No," he said firmly. "I'm not mad. I just…how long have you loved me?"
"For a very, very long time," she said softly. "I have loved you since the day I met you. I have never not loved you."
"But you just realized it," he said slowly.
"Yes," she said softly. He frowned slightly.
"I think tonight might not be the best time then," Sirius said slowly, and carefully as though he couldn't quite believe what he was saying.
"You're turning me down?" Hermione asked in a small voice. The arms tightened again.
"No," he muttered roughly. "I just…I need time to process this. I can't believe I'm saying this to you."
"I can't believe it either," she muttered, frowning. He kissed her lightly.
"If I didn't care about you, I'd shag you until you couldn't walk. I'd take you on every available flat surface and up against the wall. You'd walk funny for a week," he stated matter-of-factly. Hermione's eyes were huge. He kissed her again. "I want you to enjoy yourself. I want you to feel special."
"But we have to go back to school tomorrow," she whispered. He shook his head.
"We'll figure out something," he murmured at her. "Now come here, kitten."
Even if he wasn't willing to shag her until she couldn't walk tonight, he seemed perfectly happy to snog her senseless, and let his hands roam where they'd never been before. Hermione felt little spirals of pleasure spinning through the both of them when his hands stroked her body. He gasped when he tweaked one of her nipples.
"How?" he whispered. Hermione smiled in the dark.
"The spontaneous bond," she whispered back. She felt surprise and pleasure.
"That doesn't normally happen," he said after a moment.
"No," she agreed. "Right now, you and I are very, very close, and our magic is meshing. That's why."
"Oh," he said in surprise, and there was a little tinge of awe to his thoughts. He stroked her body reverently, and she returned the favor, running her fingers over his back, down his ribs. They shivered at the variety of sensations they were both experiencing. It was a little daunting. His caresses grew softer, muted, relaxed, and she realized that he was reveling in the closeness, the intimacy of their current embrace. She could feel him start to grow sleepy again, and she could feel her own eyes start to droop. His arms slipped around her again, and he pulled her tightly against him. Her head was tucked under his chin and he kissed her forehead. "Good night, kitten. Until later."
"Good night," she murmured and then yawned.