Chapter Seven

Sirius wasn't surprised to find his wife in the Library. She had her own office, but she wasn't often in it, favoring the desk in the corner of the Library with easy access to the large selection of books, and the comfortable armchair that had most assuredly become hers in the couple of months since their arrival. It was mid March now, and things were settling, much of life becoming routine, especially now that the fanfare of wedding planning was all done with. Sirius had just finished a conversation with his youngest son, and thought Hermione might be interested in hearing about it.

His son. Sirius had to admit that while at first he'd mentally thought of the members of the Black family in the context of adoptive sons, brothers, and so forth, at this point he'd mentally dropped the adoptive portion of it. That might be the truth of things, but it wasn't true from their perspective and for the rest of his life, it was not how he would need to behave toward them. He couldn't afford to think of Regulus, Arcturus, and Lycoris, as anything less than his trueborn children, even if he'd not been there to raise them. He had spent a fair amount of time going over old photo albums, trying to get a better picture of what they'd been like as children, even if he didn't have the memory of it. One afternoon, he'd even sat down with Arcturus and admitted that he was struggling to remember a lot of their early childhood because of what he'd been through, and Arcturus had offered to show him his own memories in hope that it would help jog his memories. Sirius, like pretty much everyone in Beta, was decently accomplished in the Mental Arts, and agreed, which had given him a fair bit of context to work with, and had really helped shift his emotional stance on his children. It was easier, now, to see the three of them as grown versions of children he might have cared for, now that he'd seen for himself how they'd been when they were small.

"Love?" he said, stepping into the Library.

Hermione looked up from the desk. "Hey there. How's your day going?"

"I just had a chat with Regulus I think you'll be interested in hearing about," he replied, eyes glittering with amusement. "I can't say I ever knew when exactly Filius Flitwick was born, but in theory, he'll be born roughly eight months from now. Regulus just confided that he contracted with Melok and his wife to be a genetic donor for them to conceive a child."

She grinned. "My suggestion. Melok never did tell me if they'd decided to pursue the option, but I thought it would be a good fit given Regulus wanted to pass on a legacy but wasn't inclined to marry. I never did ask Beta Filius who his biological father had been, if he even knew."

"He knew," Sirius said with a smirk. "It was Regulus. He told me a few months before we left. Melok told him after his mother died, figuring it would be good for Filius to connect with what family he had, even if it was family through his biological father. That meant Bella and the Weasleys and Harry, of course, not to mention his own bloody wife, although those were all distant cousins. He brought it up to me because he realized if I was who I claimed I was, then we would have been fairly close cousins."

"First cousins, once removed," Hermione mused, "given he and Orion would be first cousins. I can't believe you didn't say anything to me about it though. It was pure chance that I suggested to Melok that he use Regulus as a donor. We're incredibly lucky that it worked out the same as it did before."

He shrugged. "Filius figured that his personality came more from Genia than not, so it's more his looks that would have changed, likely. Same as if Melok had fathered him directly like in Alpha. Our Filius wasn't much different, personality wise, than Beta Filius was. Just how he looked. They even had the same career path."

Hermione fiddled with the edge of her sleeve. "Melok indicated, when I suggested using Regulus for the donor, that he'd like me to be Godmother of their child. I don't know if Genia will agree to it, or if he'll change his mind, or…"

Sirius laughed. "Oh, that's fantastic. Can you just imagine the look on Alpha or Beta Filius' face if he learned we'd gone back in time and you ended up turning into his Godmother?"

"Really trying not to, actually," she scowled.

"You could always tell Melok you won't do it," he reminded her.

His wife sighed. "No, I can't. If he asks me I'll accept, if for no other reason than because we owe Melok for all he's done for us. The least I can do is be there to protect his son. Besides, it's not like I'll have any children of my own."

Sirius frowned. She'd hinted as much, but not outright stated being against the notion of being a mother. "Are you really dead set against having kids, Hermione? You'd be a great Mum."

"I don't necessarily doubt my ability to do the job, love," she said with a frown. "It's my time to do the job. We've been given an opportunity here, and we won't get a second chance. I can't afford to sit back and be Madam Black, wife and mother. I just can't. I don't have the time to spare to be barefoot and pregnant and then spend years rearing young children on my own while you manage Head of House responsibilities. I'm a Mage first, Sirius. Saving the future is my responsibility. Children will only get in the way of that."

"So how can you justify taking on a Godchild," he asked, "if that's how you feel? What if something happened to Genia and Melok?"

"I find it unlikely something would happen to both of them," Hermione mused. "Although if it did I imagine it would be years down the road, and by then I hope I'll have a better handle on things and plans in place. Further, Sirius, Filius might be my Godson, but I'll never have needed to be pregnant with him, nor will I have social expectation leaning on me to step down from other activities to be his mother, even if in the worst case I did come to have custody of him. That's Pureblood society for you. If we had children, I'd be expected to mold my life around them. If my Godson is orphaned and I took him in, social expectation would be that he adapted to my life. While I'd certainly make adjustments and not neglect him in that case, Merlin forbid, I'd not have Pureblood society breathing down my neck to quit everything and tend to my child before everything else."

He hated it, but he knew she was right. Pureblood mothers were expected to be mothers and nothing else, and while Hermione may not be a Pureblood, she'd married one and would be expected to follow certain social rules from here on out. Having children with him would limit her in many ways. As long as they didn't have children, she'd be free to take a job, for instance, or attend to political matters at a certain level, or pursue academic interests. The truth of the matter is that right now she was openly able to continue her education. If she got pregnant now, she'd have to be doing that in secret, or she'd become a social pariah.

"Just…" he paused, trying not to show her how much it hurt him to think that children with her were not in his future. "... just know that if you ever change your mind, I am open to the notion of children. In the meantime, I support you. Alright?"

Hermione leaned over and kissed his lips gently. "I love you," she said sweetly.

"Love you too, babe," he whispered.

It was a Sunday afternoon, and as was usual these days, that meant that a decent portion of the Blacks were gathering for a midday meal at Grimmauld Place. Uncle Sirius' siblings and their spouses typically attended, and of course Arcturus, Lycoris, and Regulus were there. Orion and Walburga usually came as well, and so did Lucretia and Ignatius Prewett and their four children, as well as Uncle Cygnus' daughter Dorea and her husband, Charlus Potter. Cedrella and Septimus, along with their boys, rounded out the group, Peter and Arthur seeming to enjoy playing with the Prewett children. Arthur seemed particularly taken with little Molly, which both she and Lucretia found amusing.

The wedding two weeks ago had gone off more or less without a hitch, although Cedrella knew there were still plenty of people within the family who saw Hermione as an outsider. They treated her well enough to her face, and that was well and good, but the more Cedrella watched Sirius and Hermione, the more she decided she liked what they seemed to be up to. Everything she was witnessing suggested that they were attempting to reform the Black family into something far more Weasley than she thought possible, in the crazy part was that it was actually working, at least in part. Those in the family who she'd already known wanted more of a family friendly type of family to be a part of were embracing the changes and running with it, and while others were being more cautious, Cedrella was getting the clear impression that with the right push, the bulk of them could topple over the edge as well.

That said, Sirius couldn't do it on his own, and while his joking personality was contagious and most of the family was embracing it, that they were not embracing Hermione nearly as much would wear him down, given time. They needed to be seen as the Patriarch and Matriarch of this family if their plan was going to succeed in the long haul, she mused. Hermione could not be seen as their Patriarch's Muggleborn bride that they merely tolerated. She could not even be seen as the reason for his change. She needed to be seen, plain and simple, as his unequivocal equal, regardless of the fact that she was so much younger. That presented something of a challenge, but Cedrella had never been the sort to back down when things were difficult.

"Come on boys!" Septimus called from the kitchen. "It's time to go to Grimmauld Place to see Uncle Sirius and Hermione and all the rest!"

Uncle Sirius and Hermione. Cedrella's lips curled up as an idea began taking shape in her mind. That could work. It would take some time, and she'd likely irritate the piss out of numerous relatives, but that in itself made the plan more fun. Turning to her husband, she pressed a kiss to his lips. "You're brilliant, you know that?" she said as their sons scampered into the room, ready to Floo out.

"Sure?" he questioned.

"Let's go," she suggested, tossing powder into the Floo. "Grimmauld Place!"

"I'm a bit concerned by the expression on your face, Cedrella," Septimus admitted. "I know that look. That's your 'dastardly plan' look."

She rolled her eyes at her husband, took Arthur's hand, and stepped through the Floo, knowing Septimus would follow with Peter in a moment. Her younger son wiggled out of her grasp as soon as they were out the other end, giving her only seconds to banish the soot from his clothes before he dashed off in search of Molly Prewett. Then, she cleaned herself off and took a few more steps forward, coming fully into the kitchen, where there was a decent crowd gathered, but to her delight, no Hermione.

Cedrella strutted up to the table. "Where's Aunt Hermione?" she asked, voice just loud enough that everyone could hear above the din of the chatter. Quite suddenly, everyone was silent, shocked by the honorific she'd chosen to use. "Well?" she demanded. "Aunt Hermione? You know, the other half of Uncle Sirius? Are you all deaf?"

Lycoris pointed toward the sitting room with a soft smile, seeming to approve. It took three months to break most of the family. Cedrella made a point to visit everyone regularly and drop the phrase Aunt Hermione as often as she feasibly could without sounding ridiculous, although by the time the woman in question's birthday rolled around in mid September, nearly everyone was using the title by habit, or at least in fear of her glare, even those who weren't nieces and nephews. It became a title of affection rather than description, and Cedrella imagined that as more children were born down the road, the affectionate title would be passed down to them in turn without a thought, because at that point, she didn't imagine there would be a single Black among them who would dare call Hermione anything else.

The morning of Hermione's birthday - her thirtieth by what they were telling everyone, although technically she was only turning twenty-eight if she was doing the math properly - the young Madam Black was summarily kicked out of her home by her step-children and told to get lost for the morning so they could set up for her birthday party that afternoon without her getting in the way. If anyone had asked her, six months ago, if she'd have expected such well rounded affection from the whole of the Black family, she'd have said that the best she hoped for was common decency and acceptance for her place by Sirius' side, but she had completely and utterly underestimated Cedrella Weasley.

Hermione wasn't quite sure what to make of Arthur's mother, to be honest. She liked her, a lot. She was also fairly certain she had secrets of her own, and didn't begrudge the other woman that. Cedrella had nearly a decade on her, age wise, and yet she had started a trend back in March of addressing her Uncle's much younger wife as Aunt Hermione, an honorific which she had fiercely bullied the rest of the family into using as well. Once again, she was reminded of Ginny's fire and get-it-done attitude, and questioned not for the first time whether Ginny Weasley might have been better suited to Slytherin House. Much like Sirius, Hermione was coming to see the Blacks as her children, nieces and nephews, and brothers and sisters in-law just as much as if Sirius had been born Sirius Black the second. It had only been nine months, but this was becoming home to them both, and the Blacks were becoming family.

The ache of those they'd left behind in Beta was fading, slowly. She'd now known the Melok of this reality longer than she'd known the Melok in Beta, although she kept the Melok here at a bit more of a distance. Genia Flitwick's pregnancy was coming along and she'd confirmed she was expecting a son, which had of course not surprised Hermione and Sirius in the slightest. She and Melok had also confirmed that they did, in fact, want Hermione for Godmother, and Hermione had graciously accepted, provided all went well with the birth, which she was looking forward to. Meanwhile, she was continuing to meet with Melok and Angus at the Hog's Head to work on her Herbology Mastery, and that was proceeding more or less on schedule. Aberforth was looking forward to beginning the Potions Mastery with her when she finished Herbology, and was pleased to report that Aurelius was doing well, and had resumed Healer training at St. Mungo's, working alongside Healer Robert McGonagall, who according to Sirius, was quite the fine Healer. Hermione hadn't had the pleasure of meeting Minerva's brother as of yet.

Thus far, Hermione had managed to avoid seeing Minerva since their encounter at the book shop, although that had been with great purpose, having more than once spotted her in Diagon Alley and turned and walked the other way just to avoid her. She could say the same of Albus Dumbledore - another person she was keen to avoid for as long as possible - although she didn't chance upon him nearly as often as she did Minerva. Otherwise, she didn't often run into people she'd known before, sans people who were directly related to her through her marriage to Sirius and couldn't be avoided. Little Bella Black was in her lap the moment the little girl arrived at family gatherings these days, with every expectation that she'd be getting sweets, and Hermione was admittedly prone to spoil her. It was really hard to say no to those big brown eyes. Another fine example of those she'd known and couldn't avoid because of her family connection were Arthur Weasley and Molly Prewett, who to her deep amusement were tied at the hip even at five and four years old. Hermione recalled Alpha Molly telling her once that she and Arthur had been in love since they'd been children. At the time, she'd thought the Weasley Matriarch had meant they'd loved one another since they were at Hogwarts, but now she wasn't so sure. Even in a reality where she and Sirius hadn't changed the future of the Blacks, the Weasleys and the Prewetts were friendly with one another. It stood to reason Arthur and Molly may have grown up as playmates one way or another, and it's possible that in every reality, they'd loved one another since before they could read. She didn't think she needed to worry about Ron and Ginny getting born, in any case. She wasn't sure she'd call the union of Arthur and Molly a crux event, but it may very well be a factor of fate no matter what else happened to get in the way, provided neither died young.

As she often did when she had nothing better to do, Hermione apparated to Diagon Alley, and opted to browse. She'd just been to the bookstore yesterday and felt like Mister Blott might be just a bit exasperated if she showed up again today, so barring that option, she decided to start by getting an ice cream at Fortescue's before checking out the used bookstore next to it. At least she wouldn't be bothering Mister Blott. So what if she loved books? It wasn't a bloody crime! In any case, she had just sat down with her ice cream - double chocolate - and began to eat it at a table by herself, when a good looking Wizard slid into the chair opposite her and offered a playful grin. "What's a pretty Witch like you doing eating ice cream all by yourself?" he asked. "Especially on a nice day like this?"

She raised an eyebrow, taking in his Highland accent and devil-may-care attitude. "My step-children kicked me out of the house so they could set up for my birthday party," she said firmly, clearly insinuating she was married. "I figured it was a nice day for an ice cream and a walk."

"Bit young to have step-children old enough to be doing party-planning," he commented.

"My husband is significantly older," she replied. "I have a step-granddaughter who was born the same year as I was, and a grandson who is only a few years younger. To say the least, my step-children are more than old enough for party planning."

"Oh, so you've got to be that Muggleborn that Sirius Black married," he said, grinning widely. "I've heard about you, girly. Good things. My sister certainly thought highly enough of you. Granted, that might just be because she thinks highly of anyone who thinks Walburga Black is a bloody cow."

She smirked. "Mister McGonagall," she said, realizing there was no way this man was anything other than one of Minerva's brothers. She was willing to bet it was Malcolm, as Sirius had suggested that the elder of the two - Robert - had a more reserved personality than this man seemed to. "Malcolm, is it?"

"How'd you guess?" he smirked.

"Common sense," Hermione replied. "Aren't you married?"

"Happily so," he said with a nod.

"So you were attempting - badly, I might add - to flirt with me because…?" came the next obvious question.

"Oh, 'fraid that's just the Scotsman in me," he confessed. "Shameless flirts, the lot of us. Robert and Minerva keep telling me I'll grow out of it, but I think I've got too much of the old country in my veins. Lucky for me, my wife is a tolerant woman who isn't the jealous type. I keep my hands to myself. I might flirt a bit, Madam Black, but it doesn't go any further. We Scots are flirts, yes, but we're also gentlemen."

Hermione could clearly remember Alpha Minerva, one night when they'd had a little too much to drink, talking about the younger of her two brothers. "He'd flirt with a bloody donkey if he thought he could get away with it, she'd said, laughing, he was harmless, though. When I say harmless, Hermione, I mean he failed his Defense OWL! Herbology was his passion, and where he made his career, for how few years he was with us. Perhaps if he'd paid more attention in Defense, he'd have been able to save himself and his family when it came to it."

She resolved to do something about Malcolm McGonagall's fate, wishing she knew exactly how early on in the war he'd been killed. Of course, doing anything to protect Malcolm, or Robert for that matter, would likely be a great deal easier if she was on speaking terms with Minerva. Bugger! "I'm sure you are a gentleman," she agreed after a pause. "What else should I know about you?"

Hermione spent the next half hour talking to Malcolm about Herbology, easy enough to do given that she was currently working on a Herbology Mastery herself, although she didn't admit that to him. He just assumed she was unusually versed in the subject per her unusual schooling.

Eventually, she excused herself, took some time in the bookstore next to the ice cream shop, and after spending some time browsing there and spending a little more time just meandering Diagon Alley, she'd finally killed enough time to make her way back to the Leaky Cauldron, Flooing from there directly to Grimmauld Place where thankfully, Lycoris didn't shoo her directly back out the door.

"Hermione," her step-daughter greeted. "Welcome back."

Sirius' three children were about the only ones short of Sirius' siblings and their spouses who didn't call her Aunt Hermione these days, and that was reasonable considering that in no context was she their Aunt. She certainly didn't expect Lycoris, Regulus, and Arcturus to call her Mum, and while Orion and Lucretia were technically her grandchildren by marriage, they were also her peers, and it would be more than a little odd for them to call her Grandmum. They, like most everyone else, had settled on calling her Aunt Hermione, even if she wasn't their Aunt. It was their way of showing both respect and affection, Hermione supposed, or at the least, bowing to hurricane Cedrella.

"I expected more people here by now," she mused.

"Father decided to open up Black Manor," her step-daughter confessed. "With everything these last few months, all the family gatherings have gotten larger and larger and even with spells to expand space, Grimmauld is tight. The old family Manor has been closed up for years because it was too roomy when we never bothered to gather in large groups, even for weddings, but…"

"... but things are different, now," Hermione mused. "So I take it that festivities are taking place over there. I look forward to seeing it."

"I think by now most everyone should already be over there," Lycoris mused. "I was left here to wait for you to get back and bring you along."

"I hope I haven't kept you waiting long," came an amused jab. "Considering it was you who kicked me out of the house, with no indication of when I was meant to return."

"Not long at all," her step-daughter reported. "I'd honestly expected you to be longer. Did Flourish and Blotts run out of books?"

"I was in there yesterday and decided Mister Blott might be a bit exasperated if I showed back up today," Hermione admitted with a wry grin. "Am I really that predictable?"

"Let's just say that Father forbade everyone from purchasing books for your birthday," Lycoris smirked. "I'm uncertain if he was genuinely in fear of the rate of expansion of our Library, or if he just didn't want it to be that easy on everyone."

"Likely a little of both, knowing your Father," Hermione laughed. "Shall we go?"

Lycoris stood from her seat at the kitchen table and moved toward the Floo, tossing in some powder and calling out Black Manor, green flames sparking high before she stepped through, Hermione following directly behind. Hermione found herself, a moment later, in a beautiful foyer, with what looked like marble flooring with high pitched ceilings which featured exposed beams and a long wall of glass doors which clearly led out to a patio.

"Wow," Hermione breathed out.

"This Manor has been in the family for several hundred years," her step-daughter informed her. "Located in Wiltshire, about twelve kilometers east of Stonehenge."

"How close to Malfoy Manor?" she asked softly, considering both the memories of pain and pleasure she associated with the place in question.

"Their place is about fifty kilometers north of here," the other Witch said, looking at her curiously. "I noticed at the wedding that you looked like you wanted to squash Abraxas Malfoy like a bug. Care to tell me why?"

"He's a Grindelwald supporter," she explained, seeing no reason not to be honest, knowing that Lycoris would remember their fabricated story about being held by Grindelwald's people for two years; held and tortured, and reasonably connect why she and Sirius might not think well of the man.

"Merlin," her step-daughter said. "How could you stand having him at your wedding, if you knew that?"

"Slytherins aren't the only ones capable of thinking of the long game, Lycoris," Hermione remarked as they walked toward what she presumed was the ballroom. "Simply put, one should keep their friends close, and enemies closer. Besides, I'll not judge a son for the sins of his father, and just because I think Abraxas is a piece of dragon dung doesn't mean that little Lucius is destined to grow up and become the same. His mother seems nice enough, and with the right support, she could raise him to turn the Malfoy family toward a more tolerant political platform, should it come to another war."

"Do you think there will be another war in our lifetime?" the other Witch asked.

"Unfortunately, yes," Hermione admitted. "Your Father and I didn't escape by chance. Our captors abandoned post either because they were recruited by someone else or killed by someone who attempted to recruit them and failed to do so. Had Aurors taken out our captors, we'd have been rescued, not left there. There is undoubtedly another player on the board. He merely hasn't shown his face yet. I suspect he's consolidating the remnants of Grindelwald's scattered forces at the moment, building a power base, and in a few years, small attacks will begin. A few years after that, larger attacks that will be more difficult to ignore will start to happen, and then, open war. Your Father and I are pretty sure we know who it is, but we are far from being able to prove it at this point. As such, we wait."

Lycoris let out a ragged breath. "Happy bloody birthday."

"My last birthday I spent beaten and bruised," Hermione admitted, truthful on that count. While she'd not really thought about it until plans were already set, this time last year she'd been breaking into Gringotts with Melok, Minerva, and Albus and consequently fighting off an arse ton of highly regulated creatures. Gods, it was hard to believe it had been a year since then. She couldn't help but smile a little at the memory.

"What are you smiling at?" a familiar voice asked.

"Melok!" she greeted, surprised to see the Goblin here.

"Sirius invited Genia and me," he said with a gentle smile. "Happy birthday."

"Thank you," she said, noting that Lycoris had wandered off to give them privacy. "As for why I was smiling, I was remembering what I was up to during my last birthday. It was the day of the Gringotts break in, when we ended up going through the Catacombs. I hadn't planned in advance to do the damn thing on my birthday, really, but in that sort of environment one didn't really plan on big parties like this. You just did the job, tried not to get killed, and celebrated living if you managed it, the day be damned, usually."

He smirked. "Breaking into Gringotts and going through one of the most dangerous labyrinths ever devised caused you to smile?"

"It was fun," she shrugged. "Except for that bit with the room full of Boggarts. That was not particularly fun, especially when Albus faced down with one of them."

"Gods, he's regarded as one of the most powerful Wizards alive," Melok mused. "I'd be concerned about what would be enough to make him shake in his boots."

She let out a sigh. "My decision to save Aurelius was not an arbitrary act of goodwill. There, Aurelius lost control of his Obscurus and killed Aberforth, before eventually dying himself on a property that Albus had warded specifically to contain the pair of them. Albus had not been willing to let his nephew die alone, after the death of his father. From what Albus told me, he honestly expected to die just as Aberforth had, but he did survive Aurelius, ultimately burying his nephew next to his brother and his sister. Albus' Boggart was an unleashed Obscurus. As an understatement, it took Minerva and me to keep the bloody thing under control while you tried to snap poor Albus out of it enough to get him to cast the proper spells and banish the Boggart!"

"Out of curiosity, what's your Boggart?" he asked.

Her hand absently rubbed over her forearm, where her sleeve covered the scar that read Mudblood. Years ago, she'd used glamour charms to cover it so she was free to use shorter sleeve shirts, but after completing her Charms Mastery and learning what exactly a glamour charm was - microscopic sized golems - she'd not been able to stomach enslaving the creatures for her convenience in such a manner. So, long sleeves it was. "Presuming it hasn't changed since this time last year, it's the Death Eater who tortured me within an inch of my sanity," she admitted quietly.

"Why would you suspect it might have changed?" Melok asked, looking intrigued.

Fate really was a funny thing, because this was the moment that four year old Bellatrix Black decided to run toward her and launch into her arms. "Aunt Hermione!" the little girl screeched.

"Bella!" she exclaimed, picking her up and bopping her on the nose with her finger.

"Sweets?" the little girl demanded.

"Dinner first honey," Hermione replied gently. "Otherwise your Mum is going to fuss at me again, and we'll both be in trouble."

"Drat!" Bella swore. Then, she pressed a sweet kiss on Hermione's cheek, and squirmed to be let down, and like a bolt was gone again.

Hermione sighed, and looked back at Melok. "Because it's a bit difficult to look at that little girl and see the same Witch who nearly destroyed me," she whispered, voice trembling a little. "You asked me when I first got here why I wanted to change things. She's why, among a thousand other reasons, she's why. There is no bloody reason for her to grow up to become a monster."

Her relationship with this Melok was not nearly as close as the one she'd had with Melok in Beta. She'd been purposeful in that regard, and at least for the time being, his focus was - rightly so - on his pregnant wife. Still, that didn't mean their friendship wasn't evolving and growing, and that they weren't getting to know and trust one another. Hermione had been very careful and selective in what she'd told him about the past, or rather future, thus far, and felt she was wise to do so. On the rare occasions that she did share little tidbits with him, however, Melok was steady as a rock. He didn't judge, and he didn't ask for more than she gave. As always, he quietly accepted the information and reached out and put a hand on her arm, offering silent support for as long as she needed it.

After a time, the pair of them finished the trek into the ballroom and joined the party. Hermione very much enjoyed the evening with her family, most certainly giving young Bella sweets after dinner, and getting not a single book for her birthday among the numerous gifts. She had been amused to have received a gift certificate, from Orion, to Fortescue's. Evidently her habit of grabbing ice cream while in Diagon Alley was not quite as secret as she'd thought. She wondered how he'd figured it out. Many of the other gifts she'd received were also testaments of how much effort various family members were making in getting to know her and to what degree. Even Walburga, who didn't claim to like her at all and Hermione was never going to claim to like Walburga, had gifted her a tasteful and not cursed necklace that, given the right occasion, she could actually see herself wearing.

Hermione was seeing Orion and Walburga out to the Floo in the foyer when she noticed one of the glass doors had been opened, allowing a cool evening breeze inside. As the young couple Flooed out, Hermione moved to close the door, but realized someone was standing outside.

"Cedrella," Hermione said softly, coming up behind the willowy redhead. Her niece by marriage was standing alone on the patio off the foyer, seemingly lost in thought as she gazed up at the night sky. "Am I disturbing you?"

"Not at all, Aunt Hermione," the other woman replied, offering a small smile. "Join me."

"I wanted to thank you," she offered, voicing her thoughts as she considered how this evening was a culmination of Cedrella's efforts to get the family to see her as more than an attachment to their Uncle. "I am well aware there has been a shift in how the bulk of the family considers me of late, and that the shift is greatly in part due to your influence. It's appreciated very much by your Uncle and me."

Cedrella gave her a calculating look. "I did it for the wellbeing of my family. You and Uncle Sirius are part of that, now. I'm still trying to work out how and why, but I do know that this fact has been a deliberate choice on your parts. You may be able to convince the others, and you need not fear me undermining your efforts; I rather like this turn of events, but I knew my Uncle, and not in a million years would he have developed a heart. The man had delved far too deeply into the Dark Arts. Tell me, do you know what a Horcrux is?"

Hermione hissed, both at being confronted by the indication that Cedrella was not fooled by her and Sirius' subterfuge and by Cedrella's knowledge of such a dark bit of magic. "I find it troubling that you do."

"I was disowned less for a marriage to an undesirable Pureblood," Cedrella admitted after a pause, "and more for destroying my Uncle's Horcrux. I was fortunate that Borgin and Burkes was able to obtain some Basilisk Venom for me. In any case, my Uncle - my real Uncle - is most assuredly dead and the world is a better place because of it. Whoever the man masquerading as him is does an excellent job of it, no doubt; the carriage and general mannerisms are befitting a Black, and the personality change can easily be excused by your story. That you didn't attempt to masquerade as my Aunt intrigues me. I would have thought it simpler for both of you to infiltrate if you were both posing as familiar figures."

Hermione knew, even without discussing it with Sirius, that they had very little option but to confide in Cedrella. It was clear that the young woman had worked out at least some of it already, and the more she dug the more she was likely to figure out, and if she asked the wrong people it was likely she'd set others on the path of discovering their secret. "Sirius was born a Black. I was not," she said simply. "Ironically, his name is Sirius. However, he was born Sirius the third, rather than the second."

Cedrella nodded calmly. "From the future then. I suspected. How far?"

"Five decades and change," she admitted. "Not by intention. However, since we're here, it is our desire to remedy some wrongs."

"Who are you to decide what is wrong, so far as the timeline is concerned?" Cedrella inquired sharply.

"As they say, hindsight is always superior," Hermione remarked. "Sirius and I simply have more hindsight than anyone else, and the ability to correct mistakes before they happen. Further, I am unsure how to misinterpret the wrong in the extinction of a family line, particularly if the line in question can be steered away from the Dark Arts and toward the Light."

"You mean to say that where you come from the Blacks had died out?" the redhead asked, looking aghast. "But there are so many of us now! I mean we had to open up the Manor tonight for Merlin's sake! I can't imagine in only fifty years…"

"A Dark Lord is going to be on the rise, soon," the other woman reported with a sigh. "There will be a war, and it will cost many lives. I don't think I can prevent the war outright… Tom already has too much of a power base, even now, but I do think I can minimize how bad things get, and how long it lasts."

"Due respect, but you keep saying I like you intend to stop this Dark Lord singlehandedly," Cedrella said, looking somewhat amused at the notion. "I realize you have the advantage of hindsight, but you're just one Witch. Even Sirius has the advantage of superior age and experience. I'm not suggesting I'm gender biased in the least."

Hermione didn't bother pulling out her wand, but in a display or raw power Transfigured a nearby wooden porch chair into an elaborate looking marble bust of Hatshepsut, Queen of Egypt, standing proudly on a pedestal. "Sirius isn't a Mage," she whispered, mentally sending Sirius a Patronus to join them if he could get away.

"Bloody hell," Cedrella let out. "That explains a few things. Are you fully Awakened?"

"Nearly," she replied. "I'm almost finished with the fourth form, and have someone lined up to work with me on the fifth. I have a Master overseeing my training."

Cedrella closed her eyes and nodded. "Melok. I'd heard rumors that he… Merlin, I'm an idiot. I should have guessed that. Why keep secret you're a Mage?"

"If the wrong people find out, it could bring threats to this family, for one," Hermione replied. "I'm also very keen on not drawing the attention of Albus bloody Dumbledore, and the moment he learns that I'm a Mage he'll be so far up my arse I won't be able to breathe without him asking if I'd like some chips with that."

The other Witch snorted. "Gods, that's a funny picture."

"You wanted to see me?" Sirius suddenly said, poking his head through the door and out onto the patio.

Cedrella raised an eyebrow. "Did you call him?"

"Sent a Patronus," Hermione shrugged.

"Wandless and silent?" the other woman said, looking exasperated. "That isn't even bloody fair, Aunt Hermione!"

"Why are we showing off your significant skills?" Sirius asked, sounding concerned as he stepped out onto the patio and closed the door behind him.

"Oh," Hermione said, sounding a bit annoyed. "Somebody deduced we're not who we say we are. And that we're time travelers, so on and so forth. Coming clean seemed to be the only option. Evidently the real Sirius the second made a bloody Horcrux."

Sirius groaned. "Which would mean he was incapable of that kind of change of heart I've been claiming. Shite. Does anyone other than you know about that, Cedrella?"

"Not a single person," she said smugly. "I found out, destroyed the thing, and then got disowned for my trouble. Worth it though."

"That explains why the Blacks had so many books about Horcruxes, Sirius," Hermione said thoughtfully. "I can't believe I never considered that before. I mean really, who has books - multiple books - about that kind of magic and someone in the course of the family history didn't go about utilizing it?"

"Why the bleeding hell do you know so much about Horcruxes?" Cedrella asked suspiciously. "I know why I know about them; because I learned so I could figure out how to destroy one. What's your excuse?"

Hermione crossed her arms. "Yeah, so you know that Dark Lord I mentioned?"

"Yes…"

"He's going to make seven," she said scathingly. "I learned about them for the same reason you did, Cedrella: so I could bring a monster down."

The smug look finally wiped clean off her niece's face, and she looked completely horrified. "Fuck," she let out.

Sirius nodded. "That about sums it up."

PLEASE REVIEW!