"And I pray when I'm gone

You don't feel I done you wrong

But if so I will seek my repentance"

Andrew Duhon - The Moorings.

It was early morning when Hermione came downstairs, Crookshanks in her arms to see three howlers laid on the table, Hedwig atop the muggle fridge, observing them and waiting for them to combust. She had wondered what Ron and Harry had put in their letters home, and knew they had mentioned seeing her there, in perfect script, read "Cassiopeia Black" on one of the waiting red envelopes. She stared at it for a long moment before taking a pair of tongs from one of the kitchen drawers, and lifting it she carefully dropped it on top of the hob. She made sure it did not touch her skin, knowing from memory that they only started to smoke when they had been physically acknowledged. With a grimace, she flicked the ignition on the cooker and watched as the letter went up in flames. "My name is Hermione" she muttered grumpily and watched as there was a small poof of magic and the letter burned until nothing but ashes remained.

"Wanna burn mine too?" Called a sleepy voice behind her, and Hermione jumped a little before turning to see a yawning Ron in the doorway, his broad shoulders leant against the frame. "Mum is sure to be in a right foul mood and I am certain she'll threaten to disown me if I don't bring you an' Harry home".

Hermione gave a small grin before shaking her head "No, my procreator" for she refused to call her a mother "has no right to berate me and technically pure blood offspring belong to the father so she can't summon me home, even if she wanted."

Ron frowned at her then, his head tilted to one side "How do you know that? Pureblood for a week and you already know the parental rights? I mean it's technically true, well, mothers can keep their children until the age of three, what with needing to feed'em and that. But Mione, that's why the order is so freaked out. If the ministry found you, by law they would have to return you to your father or at least his estate."

Hermione bit her lip, turning her back on Ron and filling the kettle, giving herself a few moments to think as she did, grabbing him a cup knowing better than to think he'd refuse it. She decided a partial truth, for now, was better than a lie. "After Malfoy called me a mudblood in the second year, I began looking into where those ideas came from. A sullied parentage right?" At his cautious nod, she continued "So I looked into what they believed a parentage should be like and found the old laws that decreed after some incidents involving bastards trying to usurp their true-born siblings. And that to stop this from happening all children belong to their father's unless he disowns them. That way, inheritance could never be questioned, because their father will have raised them and chosen his heirs as to how he saw fit. It was, well, not interesting because honestly the author was so pompous I was starting to think Justin Finch Fetchley must have written it in a previous life. But it was" she paused struggling for the correct word and sighed "disheartening to know that magical ideas were worse than muggles for raising children. I had hoped that the magical world was better than the muggle one, but I've found in some ways it's worse."

She finished making tea and was surprised when arms came around her, hugging her from behind. She didn't let herself cry, not like she had when she had been thirteen and felt so terribly alone, but she did let herself be held for a few moments. Sometimes she wondered at Ron, most of the time he appeared to be oblivious to the emotions of others, or avoided them when they made him uncomfortable. But sometimes, like now, for instance, he knew it was better to shut up and hold her rather than tell her pretty lies to save her tears. It was times like this that she thought, maybe just maybe, there could have been something between them. He was safe, he was handsome, he was caring and yet there was absolutely no attraction there for her. He was her friend, and she could love him as one, but he didn't spark any passion in her. Except when she was cursing his laziness, and then she wanted to kill him.

That last thought had laughter bubbling up even as another thought occurred to her. Ron might not inspire passion, but a certain blond-haired barbarian did. She flushed, telling herself that that kiss the day before had been adrenaline, relief that she hadn't been killed and certainly not the reason she had needed to change her underwear twice yesterday.

"What's funny?" Ron asked, and Hermione nudged him back from her, turning and passing him a cup of tea.

"Its nothing," she said quietly "just amused that you've been here a whole right and I haven't smacked you yet." He grinned, and it lit his whole face up. "Day's still early Mione, give it a few hours and you'll be hexing me."

With that, he opened the howler that had been on the table with his name on it with a cocky grin before almost spilling his tea when his mother's enraged screams filled the air.

"RONALD BILLIUS WEASLEY HOW DARE YOU RUN OFF AFTER EVERYTHING YOU PUT US THROUGH AT THE MINISTRY?! NOT EVEN A WEEK OUT OF HOSPITAL AND YOU RUN OFF ON A BROOM. POOR DOREA IS BESIDE HERSELF, FIRST HERMIONE FLEES AND NOW YOU AND HARRY SNEAK OFF AND REFUSE TO RETURN AFTER BEING POSITIVELY APPALLING TO THE WOMAN.

"YOU WILL COME HOME TODAY OR I WILL MAKE YOU REGRET THE DAY YOU WERE BORN. DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW TERRIFIED WE HAVE BEEN FOR THAT POOR GIRL, CURSED BY MERLIN KNOWS WHAT AND ALONE AND YOU AND HARRY JUST LEAVE.

"YOU HAVE UNTIL 6 PM TO RETURN HOME RONALD OR I SWEAR THEY WILL NEVER FIND YOUR BODY. I BROUGHT YOU INTO THIS WORLD KICKING AND SCREAMING AND IF YOU THINK I WON'T TAKE YOU OUT OF IT THE SAME WAY YOU ARE SURELY MISTAKEN."

The voice quietened then, a choking sob echoing in the room that had Ron's eyes filling with tears. "You almost died and then you run off on a bloody broom, are you trying to kill me or are you just that selfish? Come home Ronald… please". With that last softly uttered please, the letter burst into flames, shredding itself apart as it did so.

Hermione looked at Ron in shock even as they heard footsteps above them and rushing down the stairs. Ron's face had gone pale as he angrily wiped away the tears that had formed. It was a Weasley trait Hermione had noticed all the brothers shared. None of them could stand to make their mother cry and would often be forced to wipe away their own. Ginny alone seemed immune to that effect, but Molly's sons were powerless against her tears and she had a sneaking suspicion the red-haired Matriarch was aware of it and not above using it against them.

Harry and Sirius poured into the kitchen, Harry seeing another howler and his name etched across it swore. It had Sirius grinning even as he cuffed him round the back of the head for saying it in front of Hermione. Harry, seeing the tongs Hermione had used earlier, had the same idea and quickly burned the letter, lest he is forced to be berated as Ron had just been. They were all stunned when Sirius began laughing.

"Well, looks like you both have until 6 pm to get home or they'll be hell to pay." When Harry and Ron gaped at him, Hermione fixed him with a glare and uttered: "Don't you mean the three of you?" Sirius shook his head. "No kitten, meant what I said yesterday, you need time and I know Ma, she won't give you that time. She's determined to make up for the time she gave away, to get back the years that she lost."

"You mean that she gave away" Hermione staring angrily at the dark-haired marauder".

He inclined his head, acknowledging the point before continuing. "She never expected to have you, and Hermione, she lost ten children before she had James, and she had desperately wanted a house full of them with Charlus. Whatever else her faults are, I know she loves her children fiercely and she will fight her way into your heart if she has to. But knowing you as I do, I know that it would drive you away. She is incapable of seeing your pain and she is trying to soothe her own as she looks at you and sees a girl she should know completely and does not. She envies your parents the time she gave them with you, even resents them for it and she is Slytherin enough to never want them near you again in fear that you would choose them over her."

"That's not her choice Sirius, she doesn't just…" Hermione started, even as Sirius continued talking over her.

"She won't accept that she cannot make those choices for you Hermione, her pride will never let her. She always wanted a daughter that she could dote on, and when she got you, she had to give you up. Why she didn't leave you with Me and James I'll never know, it's certainly believable that I could have fathered you by that age, but she didn't and here you are. And it kills her that when she sees you, she has no idea who you are, even your name is not the one she chose for you.

"So no, you'll stay here, protected and warded and I'll stay here away from the order so Dumbledore can't order me to tell him where you are. You'll have your time and some freedom to figure this out for yourself." He kissed her temple then, having walked into the room and curled his arm around her, careful of her side as she leaned into him. He looked over at the mutinous faces of Harry and Ron and smirked.

"You knew you couldn't stay Harry, the order would never allow it, and if word got out to Voldemort that you were in the open he would tear Britain apart to find you. So, I'll take you someplace to floo home and as I am the secret keeper for this house they cannot know where Hermione is even if they were to try and pluck it from your mind. They would see nothing but darkness if they tried. You had a night of freedom but go back, kick-off at them for their secrets and make them feel guilty for destroying Hermione's life. You're good at yelling, I remember your first night at Grimmauld Place, the whole order heard you screaming. I'll keep this one safe."

Sirius gestured towards Hermione even as he turned to talk to Ron. "You might want want to remind your mother that she once reduced Hermione to tears by callously believing Skeeter's articles about her, so you had every right to check that Hermione was safe. That given her attitude towards Hermione, she could hardly be blamed for running when once again her words and opinions are accounted for nothing as people heavy-handedly destroy her life. And should she try and guilt you, ask her whether in her wildest dreams would she have handed Ginny over to muggle strangers when she had sons that could take her. Watch for the answer Ron, because I know your mother would have never left any of you with someone else. It might just make her rethink forcing you to try and take her here."

Ron and Harry looked at Sirius with incredulous eyes and Hermione sighed. "I have forgiven her for that Sirius" she murmured, having let go of that hurt caused by Molly Weasley over the last year.

"You may have Kitten, but she will not have forgotten or forgiven herself. She will be mortified to be reminded of it and ashamed that she could have believed it." Sirius' eyes had been dark at that, as though he had not forgiven Molly for thinking such a thing either. Hermione knew that may have to do with Molly's rather harsh assessment of his ability to care for Harry that had coloured his perceptions of the woman.

The room had been filled with bickering after that. Harry and Ron had argued long and hard that they too should be allowed to stay, but every argument they summoned had been rebuffed and the pair had disgruntledly agreed to leave. They had made Hermione promise to keep in touch and demanded promises from Sirius that they would keep her safe. They had not been happy, and whilst Hermione would have liked for them to stay, she did not want to risk being taken back to the order and into Dorea's clutches. So she had quietly helped make breakfast and played with Crookshanks whilst they dragged their feet packing their belongings. She had hugged them both goodbye, wincing as Ron gripped her too tight and sagged against the closed door in relief as they left. It was then she noted that she was in pyjama shorts and an old tee that left little to the imagination and flushed a little. Guess that answered why Ron had not maintained eye contact all morning. "Pervert" she groaned.