I don't own Hellsing or Harry Potter, and I'm not making any money from this.

Aside from obviously new doors and a decidedly less creaky staircase, the Burrow looked just as it had the last time she'd been there. Hermione hadn't a clue of the full scope of the damage done over the holidays, but the repairs blended in rather well. It looked like they might have extended the work to include rethatching a couple of spots on the roof that had badly needed to be fixed as well.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley welcomed her into their home with open arms, and Hermione once again felt a rush of gratitude for their kindness. The second floor bedroom across from Ginny's had already been cleaned out in preparation for her arrival. Mrs. Weasley informed her that they could rearrange the furniture or change the décor to suit her tastes whenever she liked. Percy's room upstairs had been cleaned out as well, but the older Weasley sibling was still a sore subject in the house so she thought it best to not ask too many questions about it. Once her belongings were unpacked and she settled in a bit, Hermione considered the space and decided that the only addition she really needed was a bookshelf. She would have been content with something small, but Mr. Weasley went above and beyond. He happened to find a full sized bookshelf in a second-hand shop in the nearby village for an excellent price and snatched it up for her. It was one of those 'build it yourself' kits that came in a box, but she imagined that might have been the reason why he was drawn to it in the first place. He loved tinkering with non-magical things and approached putting it together 'the muggle way' with an almost child-like level of enthusiasm. Hermione was a bit concerned about how the finished product would turn out at first, but it wound up being a surprisingly sturdy piece of furniture. (Though she strongly suspected that he had relented and used magic to piece it together in the end, seeing as how there were far too many bolts and screws left over when he was done.)

She would have been perfectly happy to leave it at that, but Ginny had her heart set on redecorating. She wasn't forceful about it by any means, but she took to making idle comments whenever she came into the room to see her. She talked about changing the bedding and wallpaper, adding new cushions, rugs, pillows, a lamp or two… and if Hermione showed any sign of interest at all, the girl's eyes would light up like Christmas had come early.

"I know what you're doing." She told her one day after she'd pointed out how worn the curtains looked. "I appreciate it, I do, but it isn't necessary."

Ginny made a face at her. "It might not be 'necessary', but it would look so much better in here if we changed them out for something new." She said. "I think those same curtains have been hanging in here since before I was born. It's a wonder that they haven't fallen apart yet!"

Hermione looked up at the ceiling, took a deep breath, and counted to ten. "There's nothing wrong with the curtains, Ginny." She said. "Besides, your parents have done enough for me as it is. It's not right for me to waltz into your house and start demanding all these things…"

"You're not demanding anything." The girl insisted. "Mum already said it was fine. You're acting like you're just a guest here for a visit!" She plopped down on the bed with a frown and crossed her arms over her chest. "This is supposed to your house now too, you know."

Hermione winced and looked away from her. "I know that." She said quietly, letting her shoulders slump. "This is all so new and different and…" She sighed. "I've only been here a few days. It's going to take some time to get used to the idea."

Ginny's expression softened and she reached out to take Hermione's hand. She allowed the younger girl to gently tug her toward the bed and dropped down beside her. She tucked her tomato red hair behind her ears, pulled her legs up to fold beneath her, and turned so they were face to face.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione. I can't imagine how you must be feeling. I'd probably be an awful mess right now if it were me." She told her sincerely. She gave her hands a squeeze. "I'm not trying to push you to do something you don't want. I just thought you might feel better if we changed things up a bit to make it feel like it's really your room. You deserve to have that." Her gaze drifted over her shoulder toward the window. "And I love my brother to pieces, but I have no idea what Bill was thinking when he picked out those blasted curtains. They're ghastly."

Hermione sniffed and turned her head to study the threadbare panels of fabric hanging on either side of the window. "They are a bit… out of style." She conceded.

"Please. They're ugly as sin, and you know it." Ginny said with an un-ladylike snort.

The deadpan manner in which she said it slipped past Hermione's defenses despite her best efforts. She couldn't help but let out a small giggle of agreement. The curtains were pretty dreadful, if she were honest about it. Ginny smiled at her and let go of her hands, leaning back to study her with an expression of gentle concern.

"I know it's not the same and we'll never be a replacement for the family you've lost, but I hope…" She paused to take a deep breath. "I hope you start to feel like this is home. I know I get excited and pushy sometimes, but all you have to do is tell me back off. I'm used to the boys being jerks all the time, so you won't hurt my feelings. I've just always liked the idea of having a sister, you know? Maybe… one day we'll be able to think of each other that way?"

Hermione sighed. It was touching, what she was saying, but she didn't really feel it at the moment. "I'm afraid I don't know anything about how to be a sister." She said. "I've always been an only child."

"Well lucky for you, I have a little experience in how to be one." Ginny offered gently. "And you won't be the only one around anymore."

No, she wouldn't, Hermione thought to herself. She never really had been. She knew that. But no matter how desperately she wanted to be able to accept everything without thinking about it too much, it was a lot to absorb all at once. She reasoned that such things would come in time and she would eventually find her place in all of this, but she just wasn't there yet.

The days trickled by and before she knew it, Hermione had been at the Burrow for an entire week. She was slowly adjusting to the host of things in her new environment. The morning bickering over who was hogging too much time in the bathroom. The bangs and bumps of the poltergeist in the attic. The random explosions and odd smells that occasionally wafted from the twins' room when they did their experiments. Ron yelling at Pigwidgeon for being bothersome and annoying. Mr. Weasley pecking his wife on the cheek before leaving for work in the morning, and the warm greeting he gave everyone when he returned home in the afternoon. Crookshanks eagerly chasing garden gnomes in the backyard like a miniature lion stalking its prey. It was familiar and alien at the same time. They were the sort of things that she associated with being at school or visiting her friends – not with being at 'home'. But the more time went on, the more she thought about what Ginny had said. Perhaps the girl had a point. Maybe she felt so out of place in the house because she didn't have a space that was truly hers. It probably didn't help that she hadn't left the house at all since she'd moved in either.

So when Mrs. Weasley made a comment about needing to get groceries from the village one afternoon over supper, Hermione's ears pricked up with an interest she hadn't felt since she first arrived. She'd never been to Ottery St. Mary and found herself curious as to what it might have to offer.

"Would it be alright if I went with you?" She asked.

The woman's fork paused briefly in its journey toward her mouth. "Of course, dear." She said with a kind smile. "Did you have somewhere in mind you'd like to go?"

Hermione shook her head. "No ma'am, I just think it would be nice to get out for a bit. I'd be interested to see what sort of shops they have there, since I've never been before."

Across the table, Ron stopped shoveling food into his mouth long enough to sniff. "Don't see why you'd want to go down there." He said. "There's nothing fun or interesting to do. It's all muggle stuff."

"Is there something wrong with that, Ronald?" She asked, giving him a sharp look.

"I didn't say there was anything wrong with it, just that they don't have anything fun or interesting!" The boy retorted defensively.

Fred gave him a playful nudge in the ribs. "Oh, there's plenty of fun things to do down there if you know where to look, little brother."

Ron rolled his eyes with a snort. "The only time you ever go is to chase after girls!"

"And?" Fred challenged. "Muggle girls can be fun and interesting."

Ginny giggled, as if this were some kind of inside joke that Hermione hadn't been made privy to yet. "How many girlfriends do you have down there now, Freddie?" She asked, mirth lighting up her eyes.

"Hmm, let's see…" He pursed his lips thoughtfully and began counting them off on his fingers. "There's Anne, Lisa, Bethany…"

"Dinah and Mary." George added helpfully.

"Lizzy, Bess…" Fred went on.

"Didn't Bess move last year?" His twin asked him.

Fred blinked. "Damn, you're right! I forgot about that. Merlin, I'm going to miss that Bess…"

"Fred Weasley!" His mother exclaimed, dropping her drinking glass down on the table with a heavy 'clunk'. "What have I told you about running around with those muggle girls? They're not your playthings!"

"It's just good fun, mum." Fred said with a roll of his eyes. "It's not hurting anyone."

A deep frown crossed her features, and Mrs. Weasley reached out to waggle her fork at him. "You have no business playing with girls' hearts that way! Especially muggle girls. I raised you better than that!"

With a conspiratorial smirk, George leaned sideways in his seat to whisper in his twin's ear. "I don't think she realizes it's not their hearts you're interested in." He commented snarkily.

Fred shot him a sideways grin, while Ron sputtered and pushed his plate away, proclaiming that he had lost his appetite. Ginny snickered behind her hands and Hermione felt her cheeks flame at the implication. Mrs. Weasley gaped at them, then whirled to face her husband.

"You need to have a conversation with your sons!" She said rather forcefully.

From the way he was unsuccessfully trying to hide his amusement at the situation, Mr. Weasley didn't seem to consider it bad enough to warrant a lecture. "They're teenage boys, Molly." He told her. "It's nothing to be…"

"Arthur!" The woman snapped.

Mr. Weasley immediately winced at his wife's tone and turned to parrot her previous chidings at the twins, though his heart clearly wasn't in it. He only did it to keep the peace. Ginny managed to recover from her fit of giggles and cleared her throat to change the subject.

"Could I go with you too, mum?" She asked.

Mrs. Weasley pulled her narrowed gaze away from Fred and George to regard her daughter more calmly. "Certainly, dear. As a matter of fact, you girls could go have a look at the shops while I'm at the grocer's if you'd like." She said sweetly, then gave Hermione's arm a gentle pat. "Maybe you'll find something you'd like for your room while we're out."

From the corner of her eye, Hermione could just make out the 'I told you so' look Ginny gave her, then the weight of expectation as she waited to hear her response. She sucked in a deep breath through her nose.

"I… think I'd like that." She conceded.

Next to her, Ginny let out a high-pitched squeal of excitement and grabbed her shoulders to give her a tight squeeze. "Finally!" She exclaimed in triumph. "This is going to be so much fun! You'll see!"

Since they hadn't gotten a new car after Harry and Ron crashed the old one, Hermione discovered that they would have to make the journey to the village on foot. Mrs. Weasley had put together rucksacks with extension charms on them for each of them to wear so that they'd have a way to carry all their purchases back home when they finished. The woman usually apparated when she went alone, but the addition of two girls would make that difficult to manage.

"Side along apparition gets trickier the more passengers and cargo you have." Mrs. Weasley explained the next morning as they were preparing to head out. "It's not worth the risk of splinching someone unless there's an emergency. It's only a couple of miles and the weather is nice out today. A little exercise never hurt anyone."

Hermione agreed that a spot of hiking and extra time out in the fresh air was good for the body, so she wasn't about to complain. She'd always found a nice walk to be relaxing anyway. The day was warm and sunny, but with a decent breeze so that it didn't feel too hot. Still, she tied the bulk of her hair into a bun at the back of her head to keep it up and out of the way, since the humidity in the air was doing her no favors. The rural countryside they passed through was lovely and the village, when they finally arrived, was rather quaint looking. Small, but with a distinctive character that was usually a hallmark of such places. Mrs. Weasley brought the group to a halt outside of the grocer's.

"Alright girls, I'll be in here if you need me for anything." She told them, gesturing to the storefront. "Remember to stay together, and we'll plan to meet down the street in a couple of hours. There's a lovely fish and chips place where we can get a bite to eat before we head back. Oh! Before I forget," She fished around in her bag and withdrew a long, slender booklet, which she held out to Hermione. "This is for you."

Confused, the girl blinked at her. "What's this?" She asked as she took it.

"Since Arthur and I were placed over your trust, the money was moved to Gringott's so it would be easier for us to manage. We opened a vault for you there." Mrs. Weasley gestured to the booklet. "It's a special cheque book the goblins issue for making muggle purchases with your account. I trust you to be responsible Hermione, but we'd prefer if you discussed it with us first if you'll be spending a lot at once." She gave her an affectionate pat on the arm. "Just so we can keep track of things."

They were going to let her manage her own budget? She clutched the booklet to her chest, staring at the woman with wide eyes.

"I don't know what to say, Mrs. Weasley." Hermione breathed. "Thank you! I'll be sure to keep a record of everything, I promise."

Knowing that she'd be spending her own money as opposed to theirs made her feel much better about the shopping expedition. Ginny grabbed her hand and pulled her down the street when her mother shooed them off.

A little second-hand shop about three stores down was their first stop. The items within were loosely grouped into categories, but any other form of arrangement appeared to be haphazard at best. One had to have an idea of what they were looking for and be prepared to do a bit of digging to find it. Hermione was unused to shopping in such a manner, but Ginny was happy to lend her skills to the task. Years of practice had given the girl an eye for what could be ignored and what deserved a second look. It didn't take long at all for them to find a nice set of curtains, new sheets and bedding, and even a small rug for the floor next to her bed. The only reason she consented to getting so much was the knowledge that she'd not find a better price anywhere else.

"See?" Ginny asked once they'd paid for their purchases and walked outside. "I told you we could find something." She glanced over the collection of objects in their arms. "And got a good bit for our money, I'd say!"

The two girls ducked into a narrow alley along the side of the building and slipped off their rucksacks. Hermione kept an eye out for muggle pedestrians while Ginny shoved their items down into the bags so they'd be easier to carry. There weren't that many people out and about, so Hermione felt safe taking a moment to study their surroundings. She found her eyes drawn toward a store front on the opposite side of the street. It was a small hair salon, with displays of the latest styles and cuts plastered in the windows. On the door was a sign proclaiming that walk-ins were welcome. She absentmindedly twirled a lock of hair that had come loose from her bun around her fingers.

Something nudged her in the side. "Do you want to go?"

Hermione blinked herself back to the present. Ginny had finished with the bags and now stood next to her, studying the salon with interest. She must have seen her looking at the place and assumed it meant something. Hermione let go of the strand of hair she'd been playing with and sighed.

"Oh no, I couldn't possibly." She insisted. "Have you seen the frizzy mess on my head? They'd laugh me out of the shop!" She gave her head a firm shake. "Besides, we have to meet up with your mother soon and…"

"We've got more than an hour before we have to meet mum." Ginny interrupted. "That's plenty of time. And no one is going to laugh at you! That's the point of a place like that, isn't it? You go in a mess and come out looking nice and polished." The girl gave her another nudge of encouragement. "When was the last time you did something with your hair?"

Hermione had to think about it. "I… can't remember." She admitted.

"Oh? Well, it's been too long then." Ginny said. She smiled brightly and tucked her arm into hers. "Come on, let's go ask mum! I've wanted fringe for ages now, but mum gets a little too excited with her cutting charms and I don't trust her not to muck it up."

Hermione still felt unsure about it, but she had to admit that she wasn't opposed to the idea. Aside from keeping it brushed and (somewhat) under control, she had never done anything special with her hair before. Just keeping the wild mass of it clean could be a task itself, and she found herself wondering what an expert could do if she allowed them to get their hands on it. They certainly couldn't do anything to make it worse than it already was.

"Alright." She conceded. "But nothing too crazy."

Ginny squealed in delight and pulled her off toward the grocer's to find her mother. The woman was in the produce section of the store picking out vegetables when they spotted her. Upon hearing their request, she replied that she understood the desire for a haircut, but she was capable of doing it herself at home if she needed her to. Ginny cleverly pointed out that while that might work for her own children, Hermione's hair was much different than theirs and probably required more expertise to handle. Mrs. Weasley paused to study Hermione closely, allowing her eyes to roam over the giant mass of curls on her head, then pursed her lips and admitted that cutting her hair might be a bit beyond her abilities. If this was something Hermione really wanted to do, then she'd give her permission. And, of course, since Ginny didn't want to be left out and would enjoy the novelty of the experience, she could get her hair done as well – so long as the price was reasonable. Since they weren't sure how long they'd have to wait or how long the process itself would take, Mrs. Weasley told them that she'd just stop by the salon to pick them up when she finished with her shopping.

Thankfully, when they stepped inside the salon a few minutes later, there was only one customer being served and no others in the waiting area. The interior was small, but tidy and decorated in a modern style that was a bit jarring when compared against the more traditional exterior. Three cutting stations were arranged along one side facing a huge mirror that spanned the entire length of the wall. The middle-aged lady currently working on a client glanced over at the sound of the door opening and called out that someone would be with them shortly. A younger woman with a dark colored pixie cut and bright blue eyes slipped out of a back room a few moments later. The first woman, who appeared to be the one in charge, directed her attention toward the two girls who had come in and she immediately came over to greet them. Her name was Ella, and she looked to be in her early to mid-twenties. Upon hearing what they wanted, she immediately called them both back to her station.

"Barb over there will be through in a few minutes, but I can go ahead and start on one of you now." She told them, gesturing to the other stylist. She looked the pair of them over. "Who wants to go first?"

Hermione attempted to defer to Ginny, but the girl would have none of it. "I have a feeling yours might take longer than mine." She said, pushing her toward the chair. "I don't mind waiting."

She couldn't really argue with the girl's reasoning, so Hermione nodded and dutifully climbed into the chair. Ella directed Ginny to a nearby folding chair that was out of the way where she could sit and watch until her turn arrived. She then wrapped a large cloth securely around Hermione's shoulders and set to work arranging her work area.

"Do you have an idea of what you'd like today?" She asked when she finished and stepped back behind the chair.

Hermione chewed on her bottom lip thoughtfully. "I don't really know, to be honest. I've never had my hair cut by a professional before."

"Really? Well, I'm honored to be your first then!" The woman replied, giving her a bright smile in the mirror. She reached for the elastic holding her hair captive. "Let's see what we have to work with and go from there."

Hermione instinctively shut her eyes when she felt the hair tie pulled loose. Though she expected someone in this line of work to maintain a certain degree of professionalism, her hair was an area she'd always been a bit self-conscious about. She had no interest in seeing the disapproving look of an expert internally raging over someone who clearly didn't know how to manage a part of their own body. Goodness, she shuddered to think about what a trained stylist like her must think of the veritable rat's nest on her hea…

"Oh my GOD, you lucky girl!" Ella's voice gushed from behind her. "Look at all this gorgeous hair! And it's so thick too!"

The girl's eyes immediately shot open in surprise. Gorgeous? Hermione thought. A long list of descriptors for her hair ran through her mind, but none of them even approached 'gorgeous'. She studied herself in the mirror, unable to understand what the woman was talking about. She looked (and felt) like an electrocuted poodle.

"Gorgeous?" She repeated in a stunned tone. "It's always a mess, I can't do anything with it, and if there's a single drop of moisture in the air, it does this." She gestured to puffy mass of hair that she could feel growing frizzier by the second. "It's awful!"

Ella gave a stern, but light rap to the back of her head with a comb. "Now, I'll have none of that talk in my chair, young lady!" She chided. "There are women who pay good money to have hair like this! Why do you think I've got mine cut so short? I damaged it with too many chemicals when I was young and stupid, trying to get curls like these. It's a blessing to have it growing from your scalp naturally." She gave Hermione's hair a light 'floof', then gently directed her face forward, meeting her eyes in the mirror. "A woman's hair is her crown and you should be proud of yours. You've just not been shown how to look after it properly is all. Not many people know how to take care of hair with this sort of texture, so that's not your fault. But don't you worry; we'll set you to rights." With a knowing smile, she stepped back to look at her more consideringly. "I have a few ideas, but I want to get a better sense of a few things first. Let's give it wash and then make a decision, yeah?"

Maybe it was the woman's encouraging enthusiasm, but Hermione began to actually feel excited about the prospects ahead. It was tempered with a healthy dose of realism, of course, but hopefulness was still there. When the seat was leaned back and her head dipped into a sink, she felt the tension slowly drift from her body. She vaguely registered Ginny being called off to her own chair at some point, but she was too caught up in the feel of fingers massaging her scalp to notice much more. Just the relaxation of having her hair washed was worth whatever price they were charging.

Once her hair was thoroughly washed and rinsed, the chair was returned to an upright position and Ella began the tedious task of combing through her hair. She offered detailed instructions as she worked: what types of combs to use and when and how to use them, how to make sure her hair stayed moisturized, how to manage frizz, what products to use, how to use them, so on and so forth. Most of the products she mentioned would be expensive if purchased from their salon, but Ella whispered in her ear that could find similar items at the chemist next door for more reasonable prices. Hermione knew next to nothing about the intricacies of caring for hair like hers, and so eagerly soaked up all the information like a sponge. She wasn't high maintenance enough to worry over her appearance for hours every morning, but she supposed a few changes here and there wouldn't be amiss. She could at least incorporate the most important parts into her normal routine, and save the fussier bits for special occasions.

The woman's practiced hands made shockingly quick work of her hair, and she stepped back to survey Hermione's head as if it were a blank canvas ready to be painted. After a few questions about her preferences, they decided that a style that didn't require much upkeep would be best. Being away at Hogwarts for most of the year meant that she wouldn't be able to have it regularly 'touched up', and Hermione didn't like the idea of paying for a new cut only to have it look awful once it grew out a few inches. She did, however, indicate that she'd like it to remain long enough to pull back if she wanted. Eventually, they settled on a length that was just past her shoulders, with some, as Ella put it: 'more structure and layering toward the front, to better frame the face'. What that actually meant, Hermione wasn't sure, but she supposed that she would soon find out.

Her wet hair was parted off into sections and Ella began cutting. To her left, Ginny's stylist had already begun her work and appeared to be cutting layers into the back to give it more fullness. No fringe yet, but perhaps that was something that was saved for last.

"So you go to a boarding school up north, you said?" Ella asked conversationally.

Hermione confirmed that she did, and Ginny piped up to explain that was how the two of them met. Both women hummed in interest and engaged them in idle chit chat as they worked. The girls had to monitor their speech to ensure they didn't slip up and say anything a muggle would deem 'odd', but it wasn't terribly difficult to do. At least, Hermione didn't think so. It was the sort of surface level conversation between strangers that was meant to pass the time. The few times Ginny came close to slipping up, Hermione was quick to interject with a comment or clever turn of phrase to cover the slight.

Just as she predicted, Ginny's hair was washed, cut, and dried before Ella even finished with the back of Hermione's head. She watched in the mirror as Barb whirled the chair around to let her see it for the first time. Fringe really did suit her, she mused. She'd always associated fringe with more 'childish' styles, but Ginny had the facial structure to pull it off well. The other stylist had just started demonstrating the different ways she could wear it when Hermione's chair was suddenly spun on its axis.

"No peeking, missy." Ella instructed.

With the back sections that Hermione couldn't see in the mirror out of the way, it was apparently no longer safe for her remain facing forward. Something about 'spoiling the effect' of seeing the final product for the first time. The front sections didn't take nearly as long as the back had, but Ella took extra time to finger-comb and fluff at her hair to make sure she didn't miss any stray pieces. Once satisfied that she was indeed done, she directed Hermione's attention to a jar of some product she intended to use.

"If you want to keep things simple and not bother with anything else, then this will be your best friend." She unscrewed the lid and held it out to her. "Leave-in conditioner. There are different types and brands, but you'll need to look at the labels and find one that's moisturizing and formulated for curls." She scooped some out into her hand and displayed the amount to her before rubbing it between her hands. "Make sure to work it throughout the hair while it's wet. It's best to let it dry completely before sleeping, and if you don't already, you might want to start braiding it before bed. It protects the hair and keeps it from getting so tangled during the night so it's easier to manage in the morning."

That was simple enough, she supposed. One cream wasn't too much to keep track of, and braiding her hair at night – while something she hadn't thought of before – made perfect logistical sense. Of course, she also had to sit through the lecture about avoiding hair dryers, if possible, but to use a diffuser if she had to use one – which was delivered while her hair was being dried with one of said 'diffusers'. It was an interesting factoid, but not something Hermione imagined getting much use out of. She'd never used a hair dryer in her life, and they wouldn't work in the magical world anyway.

"Oh wow, Hermione!" Ginny gushed when Ella finally set the hair dryer to the side. "It looks so good! Look, look!"

The girl was so excited she couldn't even wait for the stylist to turn the chair around for Hermione to see for herself. That was a good sign, she supposed. But that forewarning did nothing to prepare her for what she saw when she was finally whirled around to face the mirror again. Her hands went up to her mouth and she gasped in surprise at her reflection. Her hair looked… good. No, not just good. It was beautiful. Before, her hair had hung heavy and shapeless around her head in a frizzy mess. Now there was an actual style, and her curls had shape and definition. It felt so much lighter as well, as if an enormous weight had been removed - though realistically it couldn't have been as much as it felt. Even her face, which she'd always thought to be rather plain, looked better somehow. The cut framed her face well and brought out certain features that she'd never noticed before. Hermione wasn't a particularly 'girly' girl and knew that she would never be a great beauty by any stretch of the imagination, but looking at her reflection, she felt… pretty for the first time.

Behind her, Ella's face slowly fell, interpreting her silence as disapproval. "Oh, no, you don't like it?"

Hermione blinked and shook herself out her daze. "No! No, I just…" She reached up to feel of her hair as if not believing it was real, then gave her head an experimental shake. "I didn't know this was possible! I love it!"

"Oh, thank goodness!" The young woman exclaimed with a sigh of relief. "You had me scared for a second there!" She pulled the drape free from her shoulders. "Now, keep in mind that doing your hair yourself always looks different than when someone does it for you, so you'll have to play with it a bit to learn what you like best. The more effort you put into it, the better it will look, of course, but with just a bit of extra attention you can get close to this every day."

Hermione felt her mouth spreading into a wide smile at the thought. Now that she had this new, amazing knowledge about a part of herself she intended to put it to good use. "I don't know what to say. Thank you so much!"

Ella laughed good naturedly and told her that she was quite welcome. She directed both girls over to the register to check them out and since Mrs. Weasley hadn't arrived yet, they decided to step outside to see if she was on her way. If not, they could always go down to the fish and chips place she mentioned earlier to wait.

"And people say muggles can't do amazing things!" Ginny said once they'd stepped outside the shop. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think they had their own sort of magic! I'm so glad you noticed this place. We look sooo good!"

Hermione laughed as Ginny turned to play with her hair and make faux sultry looking faces at her reflection in the shop windows. "Be careful, Ginny. Your mother might never let us out of the house again." She teased, then studied her a bit closer. "What did she use on you, by the way? Your hair looks so shiny out here in the sun."

Ginny lifted her shoulders. "She put some kind of oil on it to help it stay smooth. She was going rather fast so I don't remember the name off the top of my head, but I'm sure I'd recognize it if I saw it."

Hermione hummed, eying the chemist just next door. "Do you think we could pop in and grab a couple of things before your mum gets here?" She asked, nodding toward it.

The girl followed her gaze to see what she was looking at and turned back to her with an approving grin. "Absolutely!" She agreed. "Let's go!"

For the son of a man who used to work in the Department for the Regulation of Magical Creatures, Remus spent a great deal of time avoiding the place. Most werewolves who had their wits about them did the same. However, he had neither the means nor the will to continue doing so after being outed to the world.

He imagined that the only reason why he was allowed to sit in the office's waiting area without a magic suppressing device was because he had answered their summons willingly and without argument. Remus knew very well how the Ministry operated and hoped to avoid making the situation worse than it already was.

"Mr… Remus Lupin?"

Remus looked up from the hands clasped in his lap to see a young, nervous looking secretary staring at him. He hated the way Ministry workers like her looked at him. Like he was a vicious animal that could snap at any moment, or the carrier of some horrific disease... He pushed the thoughts away at the realization that in a way, both of those descriptions could be accurate.

"Yes?"

The young woman turned up her nose as if the sound of his voice alone was distasteful. "Ms. Ellard will see you now."

He wordlessly inclined his head and stood – noting how she was careful to avoid getting too close to him as she led him to the back. When they reached the appropriate office, she stood a good three feet away from the door before gesturing for him to go in.

"Mr. Shacklebolt is due from the muggle Prime Minister's office soon." She told him. "He'll be joining you shortly."

Remus didn't respond, but nodded to show that he understood. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open to go inside. He'd not met Cassandra Ellard himself, but his father knew her and he remembered him praising her character and work ethic. He hoped his assessment was correct, though he supposed he would deal with whatever came his way regardless. Kingsley was a trustworthy sort of chap though, and he hadn't seen him in years. Knowing he would be around made him feel a tiny bit better.

Ms. Ellard looked up from the papers on her desk when he entered and stood to gesture to a leather back chair in front of her. "Good afternoon, Mr. Lupin." She greeted politely. "I appreciate you responding to my summons so quickly."

Remus winced despite himself, but shook it off and forced a resigned smile onto his face. "Considering the circumstances, I honestly saw no other option." He admitted. "I was expecting one to arrive much sooner than it did."

She frowned in understanding. "Yes, well, running things through the proper channels can be convoluted at the best of times. I'm sure you understand." She paused for a moment. "It's a shame we had to meet this way. I worked with Lyall for many years before he retired. He's a good man, your father."

He found he couldn't bring himself to do much more than nod. "That he is."

Ms. Ellard hummed, then sighed and decided to get to the point. "Do you understand why you're here today, Mr. Lupin?"

He inclined his head. "I've heard my… 'case' has been transferred to the Hellsing Organization."

The woman across from him nodded and frowned deeply. She shot a quick glance toward the door he entered through, then dropped her voice down to a whisper. "I want you to know that I attempted to argue against this, but I was overruled." She told him. "This is highly irregular and I don't like it at all. Minister Fudge has already relinquished jurisdiction to them, but if you want to fight this, I know a few people who would be willing to represent you. It would be very difficult and I can't promise a miracle, but…"

Oh, bless her; she was the rare sort who actually cared to do her job the right way. Such an unusual sight in today's world. "I appreciate the kind offer, but that won't be necessary." He interrupted before she could finish. "I have no objections."

Ellard bit down on her lower lip. "Are you sure, Mr. Lupin?" She pressed, obviously hoping for a different answer. "I know many people like to pretend otherwise, but you do have some rights here."

"You're very generous Ms. Ellard, but I've made my decision." Remus replied in a kind, but firm tone. "I have no objections and I intend to cooperate fully."

The woman pressed her lips together in a thin, disapproving line, but eventually nodded in acceptance. "Very well." She said, then straightened in her chair and clasped her hands in front of her more formally. "Kingsley will be arriving shortly to collect you, but I'm required to go over a few things with you first. This is simply to indicate for our records that you understand what you have been accused of and the Ministry's chosen course of action." She cleared her throat and picked up a scroll of parchment, which she unrolled to read from. "Prompted by an anonymous report from a concerned citizen, an investigation was opened into an attack which took place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. During the course of this investigation, it was discovered that you, Remus John Lupin, neglected to take the wolfsbane potion provided to you on the night of the full moon. Shortly thereafter, and under the influence of said full moon, you attacked several students and one professor, during which one student in particular was badly injured. Do you understand the accusations against you?"

"I do."

"Do you have anything you would like to say in your defense?"

Instinctively, Remus opened his mouth to say that he never intended to hurt anyone and was sorry for his actions, but stopped himself, knowing that it would be meaningless. He shook his head in response.

Ms. Ellard's frown deepened for a moment, then smoothed over as she turned back to her scroll. Before she could pick up where she'd left off, the click of the door opening caught her attention.

"Oh, Kingsley, it's you." She said. "Do come in. We'll be finished in a moment."

Remus glanced over his shoulder to see Shacklebolt pull the door closed behind him then turn to stand in front of it with his hands clasped calmly behind his back. The man gave him a silent nod of acknowledgement which he returned before turning back around.

"Under normal circumstances, you would have been arrested, tried, and sentenced to a term at Azkaban prison. You were not been taken into custody previously due to the injured party's desire to not press charges against you." Ms. Ellard went on, having found the place she left off from. "However, his muggle family indicated that they wished for the case to be handled by the Hellsing Organization. After due consideration, the Minister for Magic has decided to grant their request. At the conclusion of this meeting, you will be formally detained and transferred into their custody. As Hellsing is a muggle organization, you will be required to surrender your wand and wear a magic suppressing collar and manacles during the transfer and for whatever length of time thereafter that Hellsing deems appropriate. Do you understand?"

He nodded wordlessly.

"It is also my duty to inform you that the Minister has agreed that the Hellsing Organization may act at their discretion and any decision they make in relation to your case will be accepted as final. We have no knowledge of their policies or investigative procedures, and so can make no claims or assertions of what may or may not transpire once you leave this building." She paused to glance up from the parchment. "Your fate, whatever it may be, will be entirely in their hands. Do you understand?"

Again, Remus nodded. "I understand."

"And you're certain you have no objections?"

"None."

You could have heard a pin drop in the silence that filled the room. Ms. Ellard studied him intently, then let out a deep sigh. "Very well, Mr. Lupin, I see you have your mind set." She rose from her chair. "Good luck. I hope this turns out well for you. I truly mean that."

With a small smile of thanks, Remus stood and squared his shoulders at Kingsley's approach. It was time to get on with this little charade. He wordlessly retrieved his wand and handed it over. The other wizard tucked it away into an interior pocket of his robes, then directed him to lean forward.

"I'm sorry about all this, Remus." Shacklebolt whispered to him as he fastened the collar into place around his neck. "It's not for long."

The manacles came next and he tightened his jaw at the sound of the locks snapping into place. Magical suppression wasn't the sort of thing that was felt physically, but the objects themselves had a powerful effect on the psyche. Not having access to a wand was akin to having a limb hacked off for most wizards. Suddenly not being able to use magic at all – even on an innate, unconscious level – was much worse, and left him feeling anxious and vulnerable. As long as he remained chained, he would be completely and utterly defenseless.

Taking hold of his elbow, Shacklebolt led him toward the door and out into the hallway. Aside from one or two word instructions, he didn't speak a word to him until they reached the elevator that would take them up to his office. The pair stepped into the empty elevator car when it arrived and watched as the doors closed behind them.

"Have you spoken to Dumbledore?" Shacklebolt asked as he pressed a button on the display next to the doors.

"Only briefly, before I left Hogwarts." Lupin replied. "Nothing since then."

The man nodded. "I suspect you know enough then." He said, then looked at him sideways with a reassuring glint in his eyes. "You'll be alright, Remus. So long as you're respectful, they'll treat you fairly."

Lupin had made the mistake of assuming someone knew more than they actually did before and wasn't too keen on repeating it. That lesson had been learned the hard way. He chose to keep his comments and thoughts to himself for the time being. Dumbledore hadn't given him anything specific to work with before he left, but the conversation he'd had with Mihnea beforehand allowed him to come to his own conclusions for the most part. The Headmaster had never led him wrong before, and if he believed that a certain course of action was the best, then he would trust in his decision.

The elevator took them up to a hallway containing the more senior level offices, and Shacklebolt swiftly directed him toward his own workspace. Since he often went back and forth between the magical and muggle Ministries throughout the day, he had access to a private fireplace on the floo network so that he could avoid the crowds of the more public fireplaces in the atrium. They arrived without incident, went inside, and immediately flooed to the muggle Prime Minister's office. When they popped out of the fireplace on the other side, a single smartly dressed man was waiting for them. Lupin was no expert on muggle society, but the man looked rather like how he imagined a butler might appear. He gave them a gracious bow and introduced himself as Jackson.

"There is a car waiting downstairs." He said formally, gesturing to the door. "If you would please follow me."

Rather than passing him off as he expected, Kingsley kept his hand on Remus's elbow and followed along all the way through the building and outside. It wasn't until they reached the previously mentioned car that he finally released his hold to say goodbye and told him to take care of himself. The surrendered wand was then fished out of his pocket and handed to the butler. Jackson accepted it, opened the back door of the car, and bent to hand it to someone waiting inside. Once finished, he stepped back out of the way and gestured expectantly toward the opening, which Lupin assumed was the signal for him to climb inside.

"Mind your head, sir." The man warned as he stepped into the car, then carefully shut the door behind him.

Lupin vaguely recalled riding in a muggle car with his mother a time or two as a child, but he had no experience with anything so luxurious. Rather than a single 'back seat' area, this vehicle had two – one row of seats situated across from the other so that occupants could face each other if they wanted. Remus sat in the row of seats facing toward the front, while across from him two other people sat. The man looked to be around his age, perhaps a bit older, with sandy brown hair with a sprinkling of gray at the temples and warm, kind eyes framed by a pair of glasses. He seemed familiar, though he couldn't immediately place where he had seen him before. The woman was a bit younger, with long platinum blonde hair and a patch covering one eye. She didn't radiate the same warmth the man did, but there was nothing particularly negative about her countenance either. Both were smartly dressed in muggle business suits and were looking him over in unveiled consideration.

The woman addressed him first. "Mr. Remus Lupin, I presume?"

Lupin inclined his head in response and took a moment to study her. She too, seemed familiar, though he was positive he'd never seen her before. It suddenly struck him that if her features were a bit softer and the hair and eye a darker color, she would bear a passing resemblance to a particular former student of his.

"Sir Integral Hellsing?" He questioned, deciding to hazard a guess.

"I am." She confirmed, then gestured to her companion. "My husband, Edmund Stryker." Her icy blue eye narrowed at the manacles and collar he'd been left with. "I don't believe those will be necessary."

Her husband took the comment as his cue to move and he shifted forward in his seat to press his fingers against the front of the collar. Remus felt the metal grow warm against his skin as it was flooded with a gentle rush of energy. After a moment or two, it broke apart and landed on the seat in pieces. He repeated the same process for the cuffs, and they too fell away. Remus rubbed at the soreness in his wrists as the man scooted back in his seat.

"Your wand." Stryker said, holding it out to him with a friendly smile.

Lupin hadn't expected to have his wand returned so quickly. He blinked at him in surprise before reaching out to accept it. "Thank you."

One of Sir Integra's brows notched upward at his tone, as if she found his reaction interesting. "I assure you, Mr. Lupin, if I believed you were a threat, you wouldn't be breathing right now." She told him in a matter-of-fact manner. "I am no witch, but I understand that being cut off from your magic can be quite unpleasant. So long as our interactions remain civil, I see no reason to be so heavy handed with you."

Some of the tension he'd been carrying around all day melted away and Remus let out a breath of relief. "I appreciate that." He said, then sat up straighter and squared his shoulders. "You won't have any trouble from me. As I told them at the Ministry, I intend to give you my full cooperation."

The knight hummed thoughtfully. "And what, exactly, do you think you'll be cooperating with, Mr. Lupin?"

The question caught him off guard. "Pardon?"

Stryker cleared his throat. "There's no need for further investigation as far as we're concerned. We already know what happened." He told him. "And being knocked out on your ass, losing your job, and having your status outed to the world seems like a severe enough punishment, so we're not interested in that either."

Remus blinked in confusion. "Why am I here then?"

The lady knight's good eye sparkled with the barest hint of amusement. "With the nature of the work Hellsing is tasked with, I am always looking for ways to improve our methods. I'm sure you've heard of the uptick in werewolf activity lately. Your world usually handles such attacks before they reach our level, so our experience with these creatures is woefully inadequate. This is unacceptable." She clasped her hands over her knee. "Over the years, I've learned the value of 'fighting fire with fire', so to speak, and I have numerous experts at my disposal. Magical experts, vampire experts… but what I have been lacking until now is an expert on werewolves." She gave him a meaningful look. "If I were to gain a 'werewolf expert' who happened to have experience dealing with other dark forces as well, it would give us a great advantage."

Surely he hadn't heard correctly. He had to be dreaming; or perhaps the transfer was a farce and he had actually been taken to some secret room in the Department of Mysteries to be tortured into insanity with nonsensical hallucinations. Remus had heard rumors of stranger things done down there. He shifted uncomfortably, sensing the need for caution.

"I don't understand." He said with a shake of his head. "I have no experience with the kind of work you do and I know very little about the muggle military. I doubt I'd be much help to you."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that." Sir Integra retorted in an easy manner. "Your former employer speaks quite highly of your abilities. As a matter of fact, the last time we spoke on the matter, Albus Dumbledore mentioned that you were a member of his resistance group during the last war and gathered intelligence on werewolf packs for him. That skill alone would be incredibly helpful."

Remus could feel his shoulders start knotting up with tension again. If what she said was true, then Dumbledore must have made them think he did more than he believed he had. While he hadn't imagined this exact scenario, he had been concerned that something like this would come up. Trying to recruit an 'enemy' for the sake of learning more about them was a logical course of action, and it seemed to be something that they'd done before. But this particular subject was fraught with danger and the idea itself caused his instincts to prickle with uneasiness. He sucked in a deep breath.

"That was a very… unique circumstance." Lupin said, speaking slowly to make sure he said precisely what he meant to say. "I'm more of a 'lone wolf' and always have been. Any association I had with established packs back then would be tenuous at best now. I've not spoken to any of them in years." He paused for a moment to consider his words. "And with all due respect, Sir Hellsing, when he asked that of me, I had known Professor Dumbledore since I was a child. I knew what sort of man he was, and I trusted him. I mean no offense to you or your organization, but I know nothing about you. Most of my kind have no interest in hurting anyone. They're just trying to get by the best they can and live in peace. I promised you my cooperation and you'll have it, but… there are certain lines that I'm unwilling to cross."

Sir Integra and Edmund exchanged a brief look between themselves before turning their attention back onto him. Stryker's expression was thoughtful, but his wife was more difficult to get a sense of. Her gaze was piercing as she studied him in silent appraisal, her expression inscrutable.

"I am not ignorant of the challenges faced by your kind." She said finally, surprising him with how sincere her tone was. "And I find nothing offensive about a man willing to stand up for the well-being of his people. It's an admirable quality to have and I respect you for it." Sir Integra inclined her head in acknowledgement to him, then leaned back a bit in her seat. "You are quite right; we do not know each other, though I hope we'll be able to rectify that. I cannot force you to fight for a cause you don't believe in, so I'm willing to table the discussion for a later time. However, there is another issue we could use some assistance with which you may find more agreeable."

At his perplexed blink, Edmund shifted forward and clasped his hands in his lap. "Did Mihnea ever happen to mention his sister to you?"

Sister? Lupin wondered. "Would this be the young woman I met when he came back to the castle? I only spoke to her briefly…"

Stryker shook his head. "I didn't mean Seras. He has a younger sister as well. She was adopted into the family recently, so we weren't sure if he would have told you or not."

Recently adopted? That was an unexpected piece of news. "No, Mihnea tended to be rather… vague when it came to personal matters." Remus told him with a thoughtful frown. "What does his sister have to do with me?"

Sir Integra cocked her head ever so slightly. "Do you recall the Purgatorium incident reported in your newspapers a few months ago?"

"Of course I do, but that's…"

Lupin stopped himself when one of the woman's brows notched upward, as if calmly daring him to continue with his train of thought. Furrowing his brow, he thought back to when he'd first read that damned story in the Prophet that had stirred up so much trouble. It took a moment to recall the events, but realization slowly swept over him. Purgatorium. Mihnea and Constance had been pulled out of classes just before that was reported, hadn't they? Then there had been a later article about a survivor of the attack that proved Hellsing's claims about werewolves were true… His heart dropped down into his stomach. Surely they weren't talking about the same child?

"Oh…" He breathed, his face ashen. "Please tell me you aren't serious."

The lady knight's lips pressed together tightly. "I wish I could, Mr. Lupin, but unfortunately I can't." She sighed and made an idle gesture with her hand. "We've managed the best we can so far, but with our incomplete information on werewolves, we've had a rather large learning curve. She's developed a good rapport with my vampires, but their knowledge only goes so far. We believe it would be beneficial for her to have someone around who is like her. A tutor, or mentor, if you like. Someone with first-hand experience with what she's going through who can teach her – and us – how to manage the new changes in her life." She gave him an expectant look. "Would you be interested?"

Remus took only a moment to think it over. "How old is she?"

"Six." Edmund replied. "She has a birthday coming up in a few months."

His face twisted into a grimace at the thought. Merlin, that was so young… He cleared his throat carefully. "Could I meet her?"

The corners of Sir Integra's lips turned upward for the first time since he climbed into the car. "I imagine Syn will want to have a word with you first, but I don't believe that will be a problem."

When they arrived at Hellsing manor and finally climbed out of the car, Lupin was immediately struck by how large and grand the place was. The vehicle had brought them through the front gates on a road that led up to the main entrance of the estate. He hadn't noticed anything resembling barracks or military-like structures yet, but Remus imagined they were probably situated behind the manor itself and couldn't be seen from their current position. No sooner had they walked through the front door than an aide rushed up to inform Sir Integra of some important matter someone needed to speak to her on the phone about. The woman politely excused herself to take care of it, leaving Edmund to escort him to wherever they were going.

"I should go ahead and tell you that there are protective enchantments over the entire estate." The man informed him as he led him through the numerous corridors and hallways. "There's no apparition in or out, but we set up an apparition point outside the gate at the back since Dumbledore started coming more regularly. We're not connected to the floo network either, so no one can floo in. Syn and I developed a way to tap into the network without being tracked, so it's possible to floo out if necessary." He glanced at him sideways. "If there's ever a need to bring someone here who's not been here before, Integra or myself need to be informed as soon as possible. Every member of staff – from the soldiers to the maids – are armed at all times and trained to fight if necessary. Anything that comes within a mile radius can be tracked and the guards are only required to give one warning before using force. If someone we don't recognize manages to get past the perimeter fences, there won't be a warning given at all."

Lupin swallowed. Stryker didn't seem to be threatening him, but the seriousness of what he said was intimidating enough on its own. "I've heard that you're known for having some of the best security in the world." He commented.

"It's a necessary evil, I'm afraid." Edmund replied with a shrug. "Hellsing took a particularly hard hit during the last war. Integra had to rebuild her entire army and civilian staff from the ground up at one point, and swore that she'd never allow it to happen again. We try to be reasonable and find a healthy balance, but when you're responsible for the lives of this many people, it pays to be cautious."

He halted outside a particular door and placed his hand on the handle, gently rapping at the wood with the other. It opened slightly and a feminine voice from within whispered to him in a hushed tone. Edmund nodded and glanced at him over his shoulder.

"We'll have to keep our voices down." He told him. "Ylenia's asleep."

Lupin inclined his head to show he understood and the door was pulled open to admit them. It was a surprisingly large room – much bigger than he would have expected from the outside – and he realized that it must be modified with magic somehow. The air was filled with the most delectable scent he could imagine, though he'd be hard pressed to describe it with words. He was certain he'd smelled it somewhere before… The door clicked shut behind them and he turned to see a woman dressed in black trousers and a sleeveless gray tank, with the most vivid shade of sanguine red hair he'd ever seen tied up in a messy bun with stray pieces falling loose around her face and shoulders.

"I apologize." The woman said. "She's been a bit hyper today and finally wore herself out a couple of hours ago. I'll wake her up in a few minutes, but I wanted to let her enjoy her nap."

Edmund smirked at her. "Put her to work, did you?"

"You know sorting through books can be exhausting." She said playfully, then turned her attention to Remus and offered her hand. "You must be Mr. Lupin. It's nice to finally meet you."

He accepted the handshake with a nod, and studied her features. The emerald eyes were intelligent and piercing, though he had grown accustomed to seeing them in a more masculine face. That alone was enough to confirm to him who she was. Remus moved closer to her, drawn in by her friendly manner.

"Ms. Newsom." He greeted politely.

Or, at least, he thought he was being polite. That wondrous smell filling his nostrils was distracting and he didn't notice how close he had gotten to her until her mouth turned downward in a cautious sort of frown. The woman let go of his hand and took a large step backward to put more space between them and he felt Edmund's hand drop down onto his shoulder to hold him back.

"I'd keep a safe distance if I were you." Stryker warned, his voice firm.

Lupin peered at him in confusion then glanced toward Syn and realized just how much he had invaded her personal space. His eyes widened in surprise and he scuttled backward.

"I am so sorry!" He gushed, genuinely shocked at his behavior. "I have no idea what came over me…"

Ms. Newsom's face went blank for a moment before her eyes slowly lit up with amusement. "It's alright, Mr. Lupin, I understand." She said. "My blood is an attractant for dark creatures, so we should have warned you. You'll get used to it eventually, but you may want to keep your distance. Alucard is out with the kids at the moment, but he has a tendency to get possessive." She gestured around herself. "Three feet of personal space."

Remus was positively mortified. He should have known, but his knowledge of nahuals came only from books and stories he'd heard. Encountering one in the flesh was a different experience entirely and he hadn't expected the pull to be so strong. With such an innate ability, it was no wonder her kind had a reputation for being natural hunters.

"That won't be a problem and it won't happen again." He agreed, still ashamed of himself. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"Oh, I know how to handle myself, so I'd be more worried about you than me." The redhead replied with a wave. "I don't scare easily."

Living in this sort of place and being a member of such an unconventional family, he didn't doubt it. Remus made a mental note to be more mindful of his behavior in the future. The last thing he needed was to give someone a false impression of his intentions. He attempted to shake off the last vestiges of his embarrassment and moved on.

"They told me about your daughter on the way here." He said with a nod to Edmund. "I can't even begin to imagine... No one should ever go through such a thing. Especially a child."

The redhead's smile disappeared and she glanced toward the maze-like arrangement of shelves separating them from the rest of room. From the expression on her face, Lupin gathered that the girl was probably napping back there beyond their view.

"She's lucky to have survived, but she's a fighter." She told him. "She claims to only remember bits and pieces, so we don't know the full extent of what was done other than what I saw for myself. There was… a lot of damage to her throat. Therapy has brought some function back, but her vocal cords aren't strong enough for speech anymore. She can manage a whine every now and then, but that's about it." She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. "The transformations are the worst. I've tried to explain the best I can, but she doesn't understand what's happening and it scares her."

Remus's shoulders dropped in sympathy. Fear of the change was something he was intimately familiar with himself. "The transformation is harder on a body that's still growing. The younger they are, the more difficult it tends to be." He offered, hoping the explanation would provide some sort of comfort. "I can't say the pain ever fully goes away, but it will get easier as she gets older."

Ms. Newsom let out a resigned sigh. "I thought as much."

She opened her mouth to say something else, but a noise from the other side of the room stopped her. It was a light rustling sound, like the shifting of fabric, followed by a deeper, more animal-like huff. Syn excused herself and disappeared into the maze of bookcases and the two men could hear her quietly speaking to the girl on the other side. It seemed that she had woken up on her own. After a few minutes, the redhead came back into view and gestured for someone to follow.

"It's alright sweetheart." She said in a soothing voice. "Baskerville won't let anything happen. Come say hi."

A little head peeked around the bookshelf to have a look around. The girl's dark eyes widened when they landed on Lupin and she turned to look at Syn for reassurance. When she nodded and beckoned to her again, she left the safety of the bookcase to rush behind her legs to hide. The most he could make out was black hair in pigtail braids that were loose and messy from sleep. Not two seconds later, an enormous black dog trotted out and sat on its haunches next to the pair. Remus took a half step back in surprise when not one, but three pairs of glowing red eyes fixed a disturbingly intelligent gaze down it's muzzle at him. Even sitting down as it was, the top of its head was level with Syn's shoulder. The massive creature narrowed its eyes at him and let out a deep, low huffing sound. Not threatening exactly, but a clear warning that it was keeping a close watch on him.

"Oh hush." Syn chided, and the creature immediately looked up at her at whined as if he'd been caught doing something wrong. She narrowed her eyes and pointed a finger at it. "Lay down and behave yourself." The huge beast dutifully dropped down to the floor and folded its front paws, though its head remained upright and watchful.

"He's Alucard's familiar." Edmund whispered to him helpfully. "Ylenia feels safer when he's around."

Lupin personally thought that if he were the girl's age, he would be far more afraid of a huge canine that looked like it belonged in the bowels of hell than a person. But then, the fears of a child didn't always follow logical patterns and if she felt more comfortable with the beast around, who was he to say anything about it? Syn patted the girl's head and gently tried to coax her out from behind her.

"Ylenia." She told her. "This is Mr. Remus Lupin. He was a teacher at Connie and Mihnea's school."

The girl blinked at the mention of familiar names and peered at him quizzically for a moment before turning back to the redhead to make a series of complex gestures with her hands.

"That's right." She praised, seemingly able to understand what her gestures meant. "He came here to meet you. Be a good girl and say hello."

Still looking uneasy and a bit skittish, the girl pressed herself into Syn's side and gave him a shy little wave. Even with her intimidating guardian nearby, Remus couldn't help but smile. She was adorable.

"You'll have to be patient with her." The redhead told him as she rubbed the girl's back. "She's nervous."

"Oh, that's alright." He replied, then crouched down to the girl's level to make himself smaller and less threatening. "Hello, Miss Ylenia. You have a very pretty name."

Ylenia blushed at the compliment and pressed herself further into Syn's side. After a moment, she made a few hand gestures at him that he didn't understand. Over his head, Edmund cleared his throat.

"She's asking if you're really Mihnea's teacher." He explained, then motioned toward her. "Go ahead and I'll translate for you."

Remus nodded up to him in thanks, then turned back to her. "I was." He told her gently. "I'm not his teacher anymore, but I still think of him as a friend. I'd like to be your friend too, if you'll let me."

Ylenia chewed on her lower lip and pulled away from the redhead's legs a bit. One of her dark braids shifted and Lupin caught sight of the vicious looking scars on her throat for the first time, still raised and bright in color like a wound recently healed. He'd never seen such a horrific injury on a child before and he felt his heart crawl up into his throat. She looked unsure of what to make of him or his offer of being a friend. After wrinkling her nose in thought, she made a few signs with her hands which caused Syn and Edmund to exchange a mutual look of amusement.

"She says she'll have to think about it." Stryker told him with a good natured chuckle.

Remus smiled to himself. What a grown up response from someone so little. At least she knew better than to accept things she was told without taking time to consider them for herself first. Since Ylenia was still clinging to her mother's legs and didn't appear all that interested in engaging in conversation, Syn shot a questioning look at Edmund. He nodded and turned to the girl.

"You know, I was in the kitchen earlier and I happened to hear that the cook has a secret stash of sweets." He drawled in a conspiratorial tone. "I bet if someone offered to help with dinner, he'd be willing to share…"

Ylenia's eyes lit up with interest and her eyes flew to Syn for permission. The redhead smiled down at her and patted her head.

"I don't have a problem with that." She told her. "As long as you're actually helping and not just distracting them."

The girl quickly bobbed her head and made a series of gestures which, while Remus couldn't interpret the meaning of exactly, appeared to be an assurance that she would behave herself. Without another word, Ylenia climbed on top of the hellhound lying next to her and threw her arms around its neck. The fearsome creature looked completely unbothered by being ridden like a horse and got up on its feet to trot toward the door. Both canine and girl vanished right through it as if nothing were there. Rolling his eyes up to the ceiling, Stryker pulled open the door and left to follow them.

"Don't take it personally." Syn told him once they were gone. "Mihnea told her a bit about you, but she's slow to warm up to strangers."

Remus put a hand on his knee to push himself up from his crouched stance. "She has every right to be mistrustful, given the circumstances." He replied. His brow furrowed. "I recall reading that the children held at Purgatorium came from half-blood families. Has she shown any signs of magic yet?"

"Nothing dramatic, but I've noticed a field of static electricity develop around her when she gets frustrated." Syn said with a thoughtful frown. "I was concerned about the possibility of her developing an obscurious at first, but there would have been signs of it by now if that were going to happen."

He nodded in agreement. Obscurials were rare, but a very real risk given how violent the attack at been. He cleared his throat. "If you don't mind my asking, what happened to her family?"

The woman's frown deepened. "Killed by wild animals, according to the police report. I don't believe that for a second."

Lupin winced. "Well, that's the best explanation a muggle could come up with, I suppose." He offered, then paused to glance at her. "You have a big heart, Ms. Newsom. There aren't many people willing to take on something so challenging."

Syn blinked in surprise, as if she were unused to receiving such a compliment. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked him up and down.

"I can't say I've ever had a wizard accuse me of having a heart before." She deadpanned. Her eyes moved past him to glance at the door the others had gone through. "I may be human, but I've learned a thing or two over the years about raising a child that isn't. And I know how it feels to be rejected for something beyond your control." She sighed. "No one deserves that."

Lupin found himself absentmindedly nodding in agreement. The magical world, as amazing and wondrous as it was, wasn't without its flaws. Wizards and witches could be just as capable of intolerance as any muggle – though many would argue that they were above such nonsense.

"I was very young myself when I was bitten, and I remember how hard it was for me and my parents." He told her sincerely. "If there's anything I can do to help, I'm happy to do it. After what happened with Mihnea, it's the least I could do. I owe your family that much."

One of her brows slowly went up. "You don't owe us anything, Mr. Lupin. My son is no fool. He knew what he was getting into when he involved himself in that mess." She shook her head and became more thoughtful. "But now that you mention it… there is something I could use your help with, if you're willing."

Remus cocked his head sideways. "What?"

It looked like she wasn't sure if she should tell him what she was thinking or not. She dropped her arms and shoved a hand back through her hair.

"I heard that Mihnea's blood affected you in some… unexpected ways." She began, peering at him curiously. "Have you noticed any unusual symptoms since you bit him?"

Remus blinked, not expecting the question. "Not since I recovered, no." He replied. "Though I will say I was horribly sick and had trouble keeping food down for a good while afterward…" His brows furrowed. "Why do you ask?"

"Well…" Her lower lip was pulled between her teeth. "I don't want you to think that I'm taking advantage of your situation and I don't want to give you false hope, but when I heard that his blood forced you to return to human form it gave me an idea. If we can figure out exactly what triggered the transformation, we might be able to isolate it and use it to our advantage."

He blinked in response. "What are you saying?" He pressed in an urgent tone. "Are you talking about a… cure?"

She winced and held up her hands to stop him. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves here." She cautioned. "Lycanthropy and vampirism are similar in that they both change the body at the most fundamental level. There's no way to 'cure' a change that drastic without killing the person. However…" The redhead paused to take a deep breath. "There is one documented case of a vampire developing immunity to nahual blood, and it allowed him access to certain abilities he didn't have before. Obviously, werewolves and vampires are very different creatures, and one case study isn't nearly enough to draw any hard conclusions from, but the concept is sound. There's no way to know without testing, but I strongly suspect that it may be possible to control the transformations."

"Control… the transformations?" Lupin repeated slowly. Was she serious?

"Yes. As in bringing them under the control of the werewolf themselves rather than being locked in by the phases of the moon." Syn confirmed with a nod. "There may be other effects as well, but there's no way to know what they might be until they manifest for the first time. This type of research has never been done before and the idea is strictly theoretical at this point." She glanced toward the bookshelves leading back to where she and her daughter had originally come from. "I have some preliminary notes, if you'd like to see them?"

It was the most insane idea he'd ever heard. And yet, if there was any possibility of it being true… Remus eagerly nodded to show his interest, then followed her through the maze of shelving that led back to her desk. He very much wanted to see what was in these notes of hers.

A.N: OMG. The HEAT. The air conditioner at my job has been broken and we've had a heat index up to 107. My work life has been hell. Literally. I have a wall of box fans surrounding my desk and ITS NOT ENOUGH. Gah. X_x

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