Chapter Six
"Just a moment," Regulus muttered as they stepped into the rear courtyard of the Leaky Cauldron. He moved off to the side to allow an older wizard to walk past him.
Hermione frowned as Regulus made quick work of wiping away any evidence of his breakdown only moments earlier. "Are you certain you're alright?" she couldn't help but ask.
Regulus nodded curtly and cleared his throat. "Of course," he said as he brushed the sleeve of his wizarding robes over his cheeks one last time. He took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds before exhaling completely.
His expression was once again passive, almost bored-looking. He focused on Hermione and raised a brow at her in question. "Are you ready to have lunch with the blood-traitors?"
Smirking, Hermione tucked her hand in Regulus' offered arm and the pair of them stepped through the rear entrance of the pub, letting the noise and smells of the interior wash over them. "Of course I am," she assured Regulus quietly. "I've been prepared for weeks."
She wasn't certain she believed the words she spoke. Seeing her mentor once again, after that terrifying night only a few weeks earlier, had her feeling anxious and emotional.
They quickly spotted Sirius sitting at a table towards the far end of the pub with his back to them and facing two young men.
Hermione hesitated, pulling on Regulus' arm as soon as she spotted a young Remus Lupin sitting directly across the table from Sirius looking in her direction. Their other companion, James Potter, pointed and waved at Hermione once he noticed her.
Regulus, feeling her hesitation, slowed right down and muttered quietly in her ear. "Deep, slow breaths, Miss Granger." He patted the hand on his elbow as if to offer her comfort. "You're here to change things, remember?"
Hermione took a cautious peek up at Regulus, giving him a shaky nod of her head and taking a deep breath just as they reached the table.
Sirius twisted around on the bench seat and slowly stood up to greet Hermione and Regulus.
"I hope we haven't interrupted anything," Hermione muttered under her breath as Sirius brushed his lips against her cheek in greeting.
"Not at all," Sirius informed her as he tucked her hair behind her ear. "Remus, James… you both know Reggie." He gestured to his younger brother who took a seat at the table after hanging up his cloak on the nearby coat stand. "This here is my betrothed, who I was telling you guys about – Hermione Granger, of the House of Granger."
Hermione turned her attention back to the two young men sitting at the table and gave them both what she hoped was a pleasant smile. "Hello."
"Miss Granger," James greeted her first with a wide grin. He ruffled his hair before reaching out to shake her hand. "James Potter, of the House of Potter." He paused. "If you want to get all technical, I suppose I should say that I'm from the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter. But, it's a bit wordy if you ask me. You can just call me James."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, James," Hermione returned his greeting. She focused her attention on Remus who was watching her with a keen interest.
"Remus Lupin," the young man said as he too shook Hermione's hand. His nostrils flared slightly, taking in her scent. Confusion, then alarm, flashed on his face before he seemed to rapidly tuck the emotions away.
Hermione hummed quietly. She had wondered if Remus would be able to pick up Greyback's marking on her this close to the full moon. She angled her head to the side ever-so-slightly, exposing her neck and subtly informing Remus that she considered him the alpha wolf. "Remus… it's a pleasure to meet you as well."
Remus' eyes flashed amber before returning to their natural green colour. He cleared his throat. "And you, Miss Granger."
"May I take your cloak?" Sirius asked Hermione after a moment or two. At her confirming nod, he undid the silver clasp, removed it from her shoulders and hung up Hermione's periwinkle blue cloak on top of Regulus' black one.
Helping Hermione into her seat, Sirius' hand brushed gently on her back as he sat down next to her on the long bench. "Have you both finished shopping already?"
Hermione shook her head as Regulus leaned forward to look around her and speak to his brother. "Almost. We've still got to go to the Apothecary and Hermione still needs to get a trunk for all her supplies. Wiseacre's had a queue out the door when we stopped there earlier."
"I'd like to get a new quill set as well," Hermione told the table. The self-inking quill that she'd purchased from Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes prior to her sixth year would look too out of place in this time. Fred and George had been the first to invent such a thing in the Wizarding World as far as she knew. "I noticed a shop called Scribbulus Writing Implements when Regulus and I stepped into the bookstore."
"Amanuensis Quills has a better selection if you're looking for something in particular," Regulus informed her. "I'd like to get a new quill myself, as a matter of fact."
"Oh?" She hadn't heard the name before. It must've been a shop that had shut down prior to her time at Hogwarts.
"By 'better selection' he means more expensive," Sirius told her with amusement.
"Better quality, too," Regulus argued just as Tom, the landlord, made his way towards their table.
"Can we all get refills on our butterbeer, Tom?" Sirius asked him kindly. "Plus two more for Hermione and Regulus here. Some lunch for all of us as well. The fish and chips smells amazing."
"Of course, Mr. Black." Tom waved his wand and the empty mugs of butterbeer followed him back to the bar.
"Hey guys," a familiar voice sounded from nearby. "Sorry I'm late and all that."
Hermione tensed and grabbed Sirius' hand tightly as a round, blond boy came to a stop behind James and Remus.
"Pete!" James leaped up and slapped his friend hard on the back in greeting. "Glad you could make it!"
Hermione clenched her jaw. Her right hand twitched, wanting to grab her wand that was clipped on her left forearm in her hidden holster and put Pettigrew out of his misery before he betrayed every single one of his friends. "What're you doing here?" she growled out instead.
Sirius peered at her with alarm. "This is Pete," he spoke to Hermione slowly and removed his hand from her tight grasp. "Peter Pettigrew, a friend of ours." He paused, frowning. "A friend of mine."
Hermione took a deep breath, trying desperately to calm her nerves. "I thought… I thought you said he was busy." She looked up at Peter, whose beady little eyes were darting rapidly between her and Sirius, before turning her attention back to her betrothed. "You told me that his grandmother was ill."
"She is," Sirius confirmed, sharing a look with James before frowning at the table.
"My mother insisted that I spend time with my friends," Peter said to Hermione as he found a spot on the bench next to Remus.
Hermione swallowed her anger. She exhaled slowly and gave Pettigrew a curt nod of her head. "My sincerest apologies for being rude." She quickly thought up an excuse for her reaction. "I don't do well with surprises. I've got… anxiety." She grimaced at her lie. Walburga was right, she really needed to work on her fibbing if her story was to be believed.
Narcissa, Andromeda and Bill had sent her back two decades into the past in order to change everything, including Pettigrew's betrayal. She needed to remember that.
"It's fine," Peter waved off her apology. "As Sirius said, I'm Peter Pettigrew, from the House of Pettigrew." He gave Hermione a cautious smile. "I don't believe we've met." He reached out a hand for Hermione to shake.
Clearing her throat, Hermione slipped her hand into Peter's clammy grasp. "Hermione Granger. Sirius is my betrothed." She quirked her head slightly to peer at the young man sitting next to her, who was watching her closely. "Him and I met for the first time a few weeks ago."
"Betrothed?" Peter blurted out. Shock shined in his eyes.
"Miss Granger got into contact with mother and father after the deaths of her parents," Regulus drawled arrogantly while peering at his fingernails, apparently already bored of the conversation. "Whilst searching through their belongings, she found a written arrangement between herself and the heir of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. And now here we are…" he gestured vaguely around the table, "having lunch with a bunch of blood-traitors and Half-bloods."
"What's wrong with Half-bloods?" Hermione queried, wondering if Regulus was just attempting to distract the Gryffindors at the table from her obvious faux pas.
The Slytherin raised a brow and smirked at her. "You've signed your betrothal arrangement, Miss Granger… you tell me."
Hermione couldn't help the sly grin from spreading on her face. "Oh? You mean that part of the arrangement that states that I – Miss Hermione Jean Granger – am allowed to associate with whomever I choose regardless of their blood status or breed?"
Regulus' mouth comically popped open in shock.
"I'm a Granger, not a Black. A fact that I apparently have to remind not only your parents of, but you as well." Hermione gave the youngest Black a warm smile. "I'm not breaking any rule of my betrothal, Regulus."
"You're lying." Regulus narrowed his eyes at her.
"She's not," Sirius interrupted. Both amusement and pride were shining in his eyes as he peered at Hermione. "I signed the arrangement myself last night and saw it with my own two eyes, Regulus. My little lion is a snake in disguise."
James and Peter chortled loudly. Remus hid a grin behind his hand.
"Your food and drinks," Tom interrupted the ongoing conversation as he set plates of fish and chips down in front of all six of them along with mugs of butterbeer.
"Dig in," Sirius said to the group. "Afterwards we'll finish our shopping together."
...
...
The Marauders, Hermione and Regulus stood in the long queue of back-to-school shoppers crowding the Apothecary, waiting to make their purchases of Potions ingredients for the upcoming school term.
"I hate Potions," Peter complained to Remus as they stood side-by-side, frowning at the sixth year Potions kit in his hand.
Hermione stood behind them and peered around the little shop searching for a specific ingredient for a potion she was planning on learning how to brew in the near future.
"Then why are you taking it?" she asked Peter once she spotted the small container of aconite leaves behind the till, out of the reach of customers. It made sense, considering just how toxic the leaves were if handled improperly. She gave Peter her full attention as she waited for his response.
"I need to if I want a decent choice of careers after Hogwarts," Peter informed her as he turned around to face her and Sirius. "I'm not entirely certain what I want to do."
Hermione hummed quietly. "What do you hate about it? Perhaps a tutor can help if you're having difficulties."
Peter chuckled dryly. "I can brew potions just fine, Hermione. I did get an Exceeds Expectations on my Potions O.W.L. afterall. I'm just not keen on the professor."
"Oh?" Hermione frowned at the information. "Professor Slughorn? Sirius mentioned him to me the other day." She decided to play dumb to see exactly why Peter didn't like the man. Although, she had a few reasons of her own for disliking him after having him as her professor prior to her travel back in time.
Nodding, Peter focused on Hermione. "Yeah, him. He's got his favourites; everyone else is invisible."
"He likes to collect things," Sirius muttered in Hermione's ear. "People especially. Anyone that can get him tickets to the Quidditch World Cup or reservations at some posh restaurant. Anyone that can give him some clout in the Wizarding World." He sighed tiredly. "He wanted both me and Regulus under his tutelage as Head of Slytherin House. Wanted to collect the entire set of the House of Black."
Hermione nodded in understanding. It was the same thing that she had experienced during her shortened sixth year before the Headmaster's untimely death. Slughorn had been keen on her not only because she'd been Harry's childhood Muggle-born friend before he'd sided with Voldemort, but also because she'd been the cleverest witch of her year. "Is he someone I should be cautious of?" she asked Sirius.
Sirius shrugged at her question as he ran a hand through his hair. "It doesn't hurt to be."
...
...
"I can smell something on her. Someone," Remus said in a hushed whisper to Sirius from somewhere nearby as Hermione read about the security measures of the trunk she was standing in front of.
She was keen on purchasing a trunk with blood wards, given the items that she needed to keep secure. She wasn't certain just how trustworthy her future dorm mates would be.
"Greyback?" Sirius asked his friend.
Hermione held her breath as she waited for Remus' response.
"Is she–"
"No," Sirius cut Remus off. "She was just scratched. And it wasn't during a full moon either."
"Does she know about… me?"
"I never told her," Sirius reassured his friend. "I swear it on my magic. Perhaps she smelled it on you as well," he suggested quietly. "Maybe she doesn't even know. You know how paranoid you get a few days before the full moon."
Hermione cleared her throat before Remus could respond. "I think I'd like to purchase this one." She turned around, spotting Sirius and Remus standing a few feet away and gave the young men a smile as she gestured to the dark, charcoal-coloured trunk she'd been reading up on. "Is it alright that it's a bit more expensive than the others?"
Sirius grinned at her as he stepped closer. "That's fine." He raised a brow at her after reading about the trunk. "Blood wards, huh? Are you hiding something, Granger?"
"Perhaps I just don't trust anyone," Hermione countered dryly.
Sirius barked in laughter. "That would be a side-effect of being around my mother and father. Their paranoia must be wearing off on you, little lion." He held out his elbow for Hermione to grasp and then led them to the till to make the purchase.
After arranging for her trunk to be taken back to Grimmauld Place by Kreacher, Sirius grinned at Hermione and Remus as they left the shop. "Let's go see if Reg and Prongs have started hexing one another in Quality Quidditch Supplies." He paused. "Hopefully Wormtail didn't get caught in the crossfire!"
...
...
"Spill." Sirius crossed his arms across his chest as he leaned back against the arm of the large sofa in the drawing room of Grimmauld Place.
"Excuse me?" Hermione couldn't hide her confusion. She had no idea what Sirius wanted her to spill.
"Wormtail." He gestured at her with a knowing smirk. "You don't trust him, little lion. Why not?"
Damn. She'd hoped that Sirius had forgotten about her reaction to Pettigrew earlier in the day. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Bullshit, Granger!" Sirius snapped. "You looked like you were about to hex him into oblivion!" He jabbed a finger in her general direction as he scoffed in disbelief. "Mother is right, you are a shit liar. I can't believe that I actually agree with anything that nutter has to say."
Clenching her jaw until her teeth ached, Hermione remained silent, unwilling to break her silence on Pettigrew. She peered down her nose at the young man as she jutted out her chin in stubbornness.
She would not play this game. Not today. And definitely not with Sirius.
"Oh for fuck's sake!" Sirius yelled at her as he leaped up from the sofa and paced the room a couple of times before sitting back down. "You know him! From your time!" He fumed as he tried a new angle to get her to talk. "Yes or no?"
Hermione frowned, noticing with relief that Orion was stepping cautiously into the room.
"What is all this ruckus?" Orion asked his eldest son.
"Granger looked like she wanted to jinx Peter when we all had lunch together at the Leaky Cauldron," Sirius explained to his father. "I want to know why she feels that way about one of my best friends!"
"I told you already, I didn't expect him to turn up! You told me he wasn't supposed to!" Hermione stubbornly shook her head. "I come from a time where this ridiculous Wizarding War that you barely hear about today is in full force. People were not only disappearing without a trace, but they were also being murdered in their homes. In their sleep. The Ministry in my time had been taken over by You-Know-Who, while my best friends were either murdered or had chosen to side with that fucking monster!" She slapped away a tear as it slid down her cheek. "Pardon me for being vigilant. I've had to be, or else I'd end up dead!"
Hermione leaped up from her chair and fled the drawing room, not stopping until she reached her bedroom and slammed the door. She gasped for breath as she collapsed on the edge of her bed, holding her head in her hands while she tried to get her anger back under control.
She was vaguely aware of her bedroom door opening and closing as she continued the breathing exercises that Regulus had recommended to her during their time in Diagon Alley.
Hermione focused on the dark wooden floorboards, counting their ancient nicks and grooves. A few scour marks littered the floor, most likely from some experimentation or duel in the ancestral home of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.
Black boots, peeking out from underneath numerous layers of a dark, emerald-coloured dress, appeared just in her line of vision. Her desk chair was pulled across the floor, scraping the wood even more.
Hermione swallowed as Walburga Black sat down directly in front of her. Slowly she lifted her head to see what the witch wanted.
"What–"
"Legilimens!"
Hermione gasped as her time at lunch earlier in the day came to the forefront of her mind.
Her reaction to Peter Pettigrew's arrival was plain for Walburga to see.
"No!" Hermione yelled out as she tried desperately to push Lady Black out of her mind. Instead the witch found another memory to intrude on.
"Peter Pettigrew's dead!" said Harry. "He killed him twelve years ago!"
Hermione watched in absolute terror as Harry jabbed a finger at the emancipated man sprawled on the dusty floor of the Shrieking Shack.
"I meant to," Sirius growled, his yellow teeth bared, "but little Peter got the better of me… not this time though!" He lunged at Ron, causing the redhead to cry out in pain as Black's weight fell on his broken leg.
"Sirius, NO!" Lupin yelled out as he dragged the prisoner away from Ron. "WAIT! You can't do it just like that – they need to understand – we've got to explain–"
"We can explain afterwards!" snarled Black, as he reached out again for Ron.
"Walburga, NO!" Orion reprimanded his wife, interrupting Hermione's memory.
The action forced Lady Black out of Hermione's head.
Hermione found herself back in the bedroom in Grimmauld Place, once again sitting on the edge of her bed. Lady Black was sitting in front of her with her wand still drawn and pointing in her direction.
"Explain child!" Walburga ordered.
"Walburga," Orion placed his hand heavily on his wife's shoulder. "That was uncalled for."
"Why was my heir in filthy prisoner's robes?" Walburga hissed at Hermione as she shrugged Orion's hand off of her shoulder.
"He's not your heir then," Hermione gasped. "You had blasted him off of the tapestry, remember?" She clutched her head, which was beginning to throb in pain from the unwanted intrusion. She instantly understood Harry's reluctance to learn Occlumency from Professor Snape in their fifth year. "That's what I came here to prevent. One of the things, at least. I've told you this already."
"Muffliato." Orion waved his wand at Hermione's bedroom door and threw up an Imperturbable Charm as well for good measure.
"My son meant to kill Pettigrew." Walburga smirked at Hermione, pride shining in her pale grey eyes. "Why?"
Hermione watched as Orion transfigured a chair and sat down next to his wife, waiting for her to speak. He would not be helping her out of this confrontation with Lady Black. She sniffed and cleared her throat. "Because… he betrayed a lot of people and got them killed." She looked worriedly at Orion. "He framed Sirius for his murder and the murder of a dozen Muggles." She took a deep breath and continued, "And Sirius had no one to help him get a fair trial, or any trial at all, because you had blasted him off of the tapestry when he was only a boy. All because he refused to be marked by your Dark Lord."
Walburga remained silent, obviously churning over Hermione's explanation of what she'd seen in her memory. "Pettigrew is a spy for the Dark Lord."
Hermione frowned, shaking her head. "Not right now, as far as I'm aware." She thought back to what Remus had told her of the First Wizarding War. "I was informed that there had been a spy in Dumbledore's Order for at least a year prior to You-Know-Who's temporary downfall. After Sirius was chucked in Azkaban, everyone just assumed that the spy was him given the family he's from."
"You need to know when this Pettigrew boy switches sides," Orion murmured quietly.
Hermione shook her head once again. "No. I need to prevent him from switching sides. No one from my time understood why he did so in the first place." She paused. "I've since learned that his grandmother is quite ill. Perhaps You-Know-Who will offer to help him find a cure for whatever she has." She shrugged. "I don't know."
"If you want Walburga and I to help you, Miss Granger, you are going to need to explain exactly what Pettigrew did in your past." Orion raised a brow at her. "I think it is only fair."
"Sirius can't learn about it. He'd go completely mad."
"Myself and Walburga will never tell him." Orion paused. "I swear. We will take a wizard's oath if we must."
Hermione pondered the deal offered by Lord Black for a few minutes in silence as she determined the best course of action to take. Then she nodded in agreement at Orion's conditions and watched as both he and Walburga swore it on their magic that they wouldn't share the details of Peter Pettigrew's past or potential future with anyone outside the room.
Exhaling deeply, Hermione pondered just what to tell Lord and Lady Black. "In my past, the Potters – specifically James Potter, along with his pregnant wife – went into hiding in the first half of 1980," she began quietly. "They'd been living under the Fidelius Charm, with Sirius as their secret keeper for quite some time. In fact, he was their secret keeper until he convinced them to change it to Peter in order to draw out You-Know-Who. Your son used himself as bait in order to protect his friends. To protect his chosen family." She swallowed before continuing, "What Sirius didn't realise at the time was that Peter was the spy. He had effectively handed the Potters on a serving platter to You-Know-Who. His actions led to the deaths of his best friend and his wife. It led to his godson growing up without his parents."
She frowned as she focused on the floor once again. "Realising just what he had done, Sirius hunted Peter down and eventually confronted him in the middle of a Muggle neighbourhood. However, instead of going quietly, Peter loudly accused Sirius of betraying the Potters before blasting the street open and escaping. He left behind a severed finger, allowing Aurors to arrest Sirius, who was…" she hesitated, "he was apparently laughing uncontrollably in the middle of the street. I think he broke. He just lost it."
"Why was the Dark Lord after the Potters?" Orion asked her after a moment of silence. "The Potter family doesn't normally draw too much attention to themselves."
Hermione shook her head. "Does it matter?"
"It really does, Miss Granger," Walburga drawled.
Hermione sighed. "A prophecy. That I will not be talking about," she insisted quietly. "I also know that James Potter sided with Dumbledore. My mentor informed me that he also provided funds for–"
"Dumbledore's ridiculous Order of the Phoenix," Walburga finished for Hermione, shaking her head in disappointment. "Foolish boy. Not even Fleamont and Euphemia trust Dumbledore that much, even though they are blood-traitors."
"Perhaps it's time to make amends with the Potter family, Walburga," Orion suggested quietly. "I'm certain they'd appreciate being invited to our Christmas gathering this year."
"That can be arranged, dear," Walburga replied with a sly grin. The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black was preparing to take control of Wizarding Britain once again.
Orion hummed as he took in Hermione sitting on the bed. "Tell us, Miss Granger, why you reacted in such a way when you saw the Pettigrew boy this afternoon?"
Hermione frowned, her eyes darting between him and Walburga who raised a brow at her. Oh. This was a test. A fib that she now needed to sell. "Because… he reminded me of a boy that I'd had a bad experience with during my time at Hogwarts. This particular boy was a heartless bully who took pleasure in harming anyone who didn't worship him." She paused, thinking quickly. "I was caught off-guard by the sudden appearance of Peter, given how much they look alike, and, due to the stress that I've been under recently, I reacted in an inappropriate way." She met Walburga's gaze dead on. "And for that I am terribly sorry. I promise that it won't happen again."
Pride washed over Walburga's face. "Good girl."
...
...
Hermione winced as the latch on her school trunk pricked her finger, completing the simple blood wards and securing her trunk so that only she could open it.
A knock sounded on her bedroom door.
"Come in!" she called out as she set her wand down on her bed and lifted the heavy lid on her charcoal-coloured trunk to begin her packing.
"Packing already?" Sirius asked her with curiosity, as he stepped into her room and gently closed her door.
Hermione rose slowly to her feet and gave him a cautious nod of her head. "Uh… yeah. Some of my stuff at least." She gestured with one hand to her bum-bag and a few of her school supplies piled on her desk, as she sucked on the bleeding finger of her other.
Sirius' gaze dropped down to the floor as he nodded. "I wanted to apologise for my behaviour this afternoon." His eyes met hers once again as he stepped closer. "Father explained to me why you reacted the way you did. With Peter, I mean." He chuckled sadly. "I'd thought you just didn't like him for whatever reason and I panicked and then acted like a complete tosser when I confronted you about it. I didn't realise that you had been bullied by some git who looked like Peter when you went to Hogwarts in your time." He frowned. "I'm sorry."
Hermione opened her mouth to reply but found that she couldn't say a word; she couldn't lie to him. Not Sirius. "You care for your friends," she settled on.
Sirius nodded. "I do."
"I apologise for being rude to Peter and for yelling at you when you confronted me about it." Hermione frowned. "I've got a bit of a temper."
Sirius chuckled quietly as he ran a hand through his hair. "So do I." He made his way closer to where Hermione was standing, between her bed and school trunk, and slowly sat down on the edge of the bed.
"Do you need help packing?" he asked her, changing the topic.
Hermione grabbed her pewter cauldron and Potions kit and set them down in her trunk. "Not really." She frowned. "But, you're more than welcome to keep me company if you'd like." She grabbed her bum-bag and sat down next to Sirius on her bed.
"What the hell is that?" Sirius blurted out as he stared at the small bag in her lap. "I've been meaning to ask you about it for weeks."
Hermione chuckled. "It's called a bum-bag. Basically, it's a hands-free purse." She cleared her throat as she peered at Sirius with amusement. "Don't tell your parents, but it's a Muggle invention that was popular in the 1980s and early 1990s."
Sirius chortled with surprised laughter.
She gestured to the bag in question. "I've made a few enchantments on this particular one, so I can't just throw it away."
"What sorts of enchantments?"
Hermione merely grinned at Sirius as she zipped open the bag and reached in up to her elbow.
"Undetectable Extension Charm," Sirius muttered in awe. "That's really advanced magic!"
"It's also heavily controlled by the Ministry given the potential breaches of secrecy if a Muggle somehow came in possession of an item such as this bag," Hermione lectured him as she began pulling out the items she had brought with her to the past.
"You brought a Potions textbook, a notebook, a change of clothes, and a quill with you." Sirius peered at Hermione with confusion. "That's it?"
Hermione handed the textbook to Sirius. "Open it. I've got a bookmark in there somewhere."
She watched as Sirius found the indicated bookmark and carefully opened the textbook. "Wolfsbane Potion?" His eyes darted up to look at Hermione. "Is this… there's a cure?"
Hermione shook her head. "No. There's no cure." She hesitated. "However, a potioneer by the name of Damocles Belby will eventually invent this potion in 1980. It eases the symptoms of lycanthropy, allowing one to keep their mind during transformation. Rather than transforming into a werewolf, the lycanthrope instead transforms into an ordinary – albeit somewhat sleepy – wolf.
"One problem – there are quite a few – is that this potion is ridiculously difficult to brew," Hermione told Sirius quietly. "If it's not done properly, it will kill the lycanthrope. It's also stupidly expensive as well, preventing pretty much every single infected person from being able to brew it themselves."
"Have you done it? Brewed this?" Sirius asked as he began to quickly read through the complicated instructions.
Hermione shook her head. "No. I've been too afraid to try."
"You knew Remus from your time," Sirius prompted her.
"He was my third year Defence professor," Hermione admitted. "And my mentor." She gestured to the textbook in Sirius' lap. "He had been provided with the Wolfsbane Potion during his tenure at Hogwarts. I had wanted to try to help him in this time if I could, and given that I'm not an animagus, registered or otherwise," she stared pointedly at Sirius who was smirking at her, "I found this book and brought it with me."
"And the quill?" Sirius asked her. "You went out of your way to get a new one."
"This one is self-inking." Hermione grinned at his surprise. "It was invented by the Weasley twins in 1996."
"The Weasley twins?"
Hermione started snickering as she nodded. "Yep. The biggest troublemakers that Hogwarts has ever seen since the legendary Marauders." She grinned at Sirius as his eyes shined with joy.
"It feels good to be a role model," Sirius joked as he wrapped an arm around Hermione, giving her a half-hearted hug. "Are we alright, little lion? You and I?"
Hermione peered into Sirius' eyes and nodded. "We are. I promise."