Chapter Eleven
Sirius sat at the kitchen table with his brothers: Arcturus, Phineas, and Cygnus. Also in company were his son Arcturus, Hermione, Charlus Potter, Harfang Longbottom, Septimus Weasley, and Ignatius Prewitt. The war with Grindelwald had taken the lives of Ignatius, Septimus, Harfang, and Charlus' fathers, leaving each of them Head of their respective Houses, and they along with Sirius held a total of five seats on the Wizengamot, and a fair amount of political power, especially considering that with Sirius' newfound family oriented creed, the other four could usually be relied upon to vote the same way as Sirius on various issues, much to the rest of the Pureblood community's general dismay these days. Five votes wasn't nothing.
Today, they were talking about an upcoming vote regarding Werewolf regulation put forth by noted anti-Werewolf spokesman, Lyall Lupin. This, of course, was of particular concern to Sirius and Hermione, knowing what the future held for Lyall's son, even if Remus wouldn't be born for a few more years, but they had some hope that by heading off the discriminatory laws that Lyall was putting forth might head off Greyback's ire toward the senior Lupin, and proactively prevent the attack on Remus. It wasn't a guarantee, but it was a chance, and Sirius and Hermione agreed that regardless of if Remus was ever bitten and contracted Lycanthropy, they had seen first hand the unfair nature of Werewolf laws, and wanted to pave a better future for those who were infected.
"You can't deny that Werewolves are dangerous," Harfang argued, "even if it's just once a month. In their transformed state they cannot account for their own actions, and left unchecked, they maim, infect, and even kill others. There must be some accountability."
"Accountability, yes," Charlus replied. "However, to suggest as Lyall Lupin is, that they be denied basic rights and privileges due other Wizards and Witches is overboard. Lycanthropy is a medical condition. It is a very basic right to have our medical records be private, so to suggest that Lycanthropes must register their status is ludicrous."
"What would be the point in not having a registration?" Art, Sirius' brother asked. With two men named Arcturus running about at family gatherings, the elder Arcturus was fondly referred to as Art to keep them apart. "If a Werewolf were employed somewhere, they would need to have days preceding and following the full moon off, not to mention the day of, and anyone with half a brain would notice the pattern before long. As an employer, I'd prefer my employee be honest with me from the get go about why."
"If we create a system where Werewolves need not fear recrimination for their condition," Hermione said, "then there would be no reason they could not be honest with employers, registered or not. To make it mandatory is discriminatory, however, and means that the full of the public would be aware of a Werewolf's affliction. Not just their employer. Just like anyone with any other medical condition, employers often need to be made aware of standing medical conditions and accommodate. There are already laws protecting employees from having medical conditions held against them in the course of employment. The key here is to get lycanthropy to be treated as any other medical condition."
Septimus sighed. "I agree in principle, however I also agree with Harfang regarding the danger during the moon. What happens if I become friendly with a man I do not know is a werewolf, and I invite him to dinner in my home on a full moon. If he's a good friend, with good intentions, I'd presume that he'd excuse himself before moonrise, but let's say we have a friendly game of Quidditch and he's injured and knocked unconscious, and I don't know. The moon rises, the wolf within brings him around, and I have a werewolf in my home, with my sons. What then?"
"I'd hope that if he's a decent friend and you've shown yourself not to be a judgmental prat," Sirius replied, "then he'd have been honest about his condition before coming into your home."
"Werewolves won't go after one another, will they?" Lycoris asked, poking her head into the kitchen. "I mean, they're pack minded, are they not?"
Sirius raised his eyebrow and waved his daughter in. "Have you something to contribute to this conversation, Cor?"
"Well I'm tired of hearing you gentlemen talk in circles," she admitted, "especially when the solution is obvious."
Hermione laughed. "Never underestimate a woman. What are you thinking, Lycoris?"
"Put your Galleons where your mouths are," the other Witch said with a shrug. I don't believe a registration is necessary as much as a Werewolf Sanctuary is. You set up a property, with Floo connection so it can be gotten to from nearly anywhere, and make it strongly encouraged that all Werewolves come there the day of the full moon, by a certain time. Don't have it an issue of registration or mandatory that they come, but advantageous to them. Open the facility the day before and day after, so they can be there up to three days per month, with meals and medical care provided while they are there. Discretion is a given. They come and go freely with no fear of recrimination, not even required to give their names if they prefer not to. I can't speak for everyone, obviously, but if I were a Werewolf, I'd find it terrifying that I might hurt someone, and leap at the chance to go somewhere safe every full moon, where I could count on being contained with others of my kind, a good meal, and medical care for wounds received in the course of transformation. I'd want a place like this."
Sirius breathed out, loving the idea. Remus would have loved this idea. Eventually, Wolfsbane Potion would be invented and they could have a facility like this also provide that, but for the time being, even containing the Werewolves would be something, and go a long way to assure the Wizengamot.
Ignatius nodded. "A good idea, Cor, although I'd still be concerned about those who chose not to go to the facility."
She tilted her head to the side. "You're being deliberately obtuse. Stop looking at it as a werewolf assault and start looking at it as a simple assault. What would be the response of the Ministry if a regular Witch or Wizard maimed or killed someone?"
"They'd be taken in by the Aurors, and either heavily fined or given time in Azkaban," Harfang said with a nod, seeming to understand where she was going. "That's… that's astute, and I thank you for making me see my own prejudice, cousin. I've been so stuck on Werewolf, and all this time…"
Lycoris nodded. "To satisfy the Wizengamot, perhaps there could be a higher penalty for Werewolf attack than would typically be given for a general assault, which may be appropriate because a simple wound can cause a lifetime affliction. That is fair. I would not go so far as suggesting the Dementor's Kiss, but whereas typically a minor assault is a mid grade fee, perhaps for Werewolves it should be an automatic term of a year in Azkaban. Give the Werewolves a strong motivation to go to the Sanctuary, as by failing to do so, they are risking Azkaban. In general, they would be punished like any other member of society, however. Should they cause another harm, they reap the consequences. That becomes a completely fair situation if the Ministry provides the Werewolves a means to not harm others. If the Ministry offers no support, then how do they have the right to dole out consequences?"
Sirius suddenly couldn't bloody wait for Remus and his daughter to meet.
Charlus spoke up next. "I'm on board with this idea for a Sanctuary, however I'd be concerned about the Healers you propose having on site. With that many Werewolves around, I'd be concerned about fights breaking out, and if this is a Ministry run program, it would be our responsibility to make sure those there survived being there. How would we keep Healers safe if they remained there during the full Moon? Werewolves might be able to be kept contained with wards, but if they smell humans, that'll only agitate them further, not keep them calmer, which if there are injuries, would be the aim."
Hermione looked at him with a sly grin. "Oh, that's simple enough. We merely employ Healers who are Animagi. While in their own transformed state, they could be among the Werewolves without fear."
"Really?" Septimus asked, looking interested. "I didn't know that! How do you know?"
Sirius answered. "Hermione and I are both Animagi, and we knew a Werewolf for a time. He was… informative."
"He was a swot," his wife laughed.
"And you're not?" Sirius joined in her laughter.
"Where's this bloke at now?" Charlus inquired. "He could be a good help in sorting out details, if we had a perspective of someone who's actually living with the condition."
All mirth faded out of his eyes. "He died," Sirius said softly. "In any case, he was probably one of the best friends I've ever had, so you can imagine I'm passionate about getting all this sorted. He didn't live long enough to see Werewolf rights secured. That doesn't mean the need isn't there."
Arcturus nodded in agreement. "I'm in complete agreement with Lycoris. We've had similar discussions before. People over-complicate what ought to be a very simple issue. Werewolves are men and women just like the rest of us. What they have is a disease. If we focus on that, advancements may even be made and treatments found to either prevent the transformation or eradicate the virus altogether."
"Or, at the least, to allow them to maintain their human mind while transformed," Hermione whispered.
"Now there's an idea…" Septimus said thoughtfully.
"The Wizengamot won't hear a word of this if it's just a far-fetched idea," Phineas said with a sigh. "If you have any intention of convincing them to throw out Lupin's proposal, I'd suggest you have a property already set aside to establish the sanctuary in."
"Speaking of sanctuary," Sirius said, rubbing his chin, "perhaps this is a project you could work cooperatively with Doctor Watson on, Hermione."
"That's not a bad notion," Hermione admitted. "I'll give him a call."
"Who's Watson?" Cygnus asked.
"A friend," his sister-in-law replied, smiling coyly. "Magical Creatures expert."
"Whatever site you choose," Lycoris remarked, looking thoughtful, "I'd strongly suggest trying to find one that has a Henge on it. Werewolves can break through many conventional wards, and while we can certainly manage some unconventional ones, it would be best if they are supported by the power of a Henge."
Hermione looked at her step-daughter incredulously. "I didn't realize you knew anything about warding."
"I'm a Slytherin, Mum," Cor said smugly. "We Slytherins generally don't allow you to know anything about us until it becomes necessary."
Sirius laughed as Hermione rolled her eyes, clearly exasperated by being in a family full of bloody snakes. Granted, it got on his nerves too, for as much as he was used to it by now.
Genia was down with a nasty flu, and Hermione was being a bloody champ in helping out with Filius so that Melok could tend to his wife. The Goblin had deeply appreciated being able to focus completely on pampering the ill mother of his child, even if she insisted that it wasn't necessary. Still, he'd been able to keep her company and tend to her every whim, and despite her protests he thought she was secretly delighted for the change of pace, considering her days were mostly spent catering to Filius' every whim. A day or two of things being the other way around was a nice turn about, he imagined.
She'd fallen asleep a few minutes ago, and given it was about Filius' bedtime, Melok opted to go check on Hermione and Filius, just in case the Mage was having difficulty settling the baby for sleep. He doubted it, as Hermione was very good with her Godson, but at the least, it would be nice to say goodnight to his son. Melok had nearly entered the boy's nursery, but upon hearing Hermione speaking softly, he paused.
"It's so very odd, Filius," she said, "I look at you now, like this, and I remember the tall, handsome man who was Headmaster of Hogwarts in a war torn reality. I know you'll grow up to be very like him, and I can't help but wonder if you'll end up with the same wife as you did there. The version of you that I knew growing up never married, you know. I think his half-Goblin heritage held him back. I don't doubt there were women out there who might have loved him, but looking back I think he had a great deal of insecurity. The fact that his parents didn't stay together couldn't have helped things. He'd not have had a lot of confidence in the idea that a relationship between a Goblin and human could be lasting."
Melok drew in a sharp breath, realizing quite suddenly that Hermione had not just come from another reality, but that she'd been born in one, visited another, and then come to be where she was now. She'd known two versions of his son, perhaps even two versions of other people. Intrigued, he listened on.
"I'm growing to care for your father," she confessed, "but I miss the Melok I knew. I miss how easy it was with him. Your father is still so guarded, not that I blame him, as I'm much the same. I'm wary of opening up though. The last time I did, things between us…" her voice trailed off, and the thought remained unfinished, much to Melok's annoyance. When she spoke again, she didn't elaborate on the state of her relationship with his counterpart. "Your Mum is lovely, and I've enjoyed getting to know her. She was already dead in Beta, and I have no idea where she was in Alpha, or if she was alive. I'm not even sure if your Father was still alive, there. You never spoke of your parents much, there. Granted, Filius, it wasn't as if we were close in Alpha. You weren't meant to confide in your student, after all, nor was I meant to know intimate details about my Charms Professor's life. Funny how life works out, though."
Melok frowned, the details she was giving painting a picture of two realities, which she was calling Alpha and Beta, neither of which seemed to be good places for his son. Alpha seemed worse, and if he was understanding things correctly, in Alpha Filius had been genetically his son. How odd to consider that Hermione had known a version of Filius who was so very different. One day, perhaps he'd get Hermione to show him what Filius had been like, there, in a Pensive.
"It's been almost a year now," Hermione went on. "I know Sirius is starting to feel like this is home now. He's settled and that's good. I'm not sure if I am or not. I tried to pretend I was done being a soldier once, and learned my lesson. Knowing what's coming, I can't be bothered to pretend again. There's things to come that will require sacrifice… oh, my little darling, you will never know what it is to be a child soldier like I have. I'll protect you from that, I swear. You won't know what it's like, and by the time Harry's born, well, the war will be over before he's old enough to even consider joining the fight. Severus… I'll stop him from being a child soldier as well. Like hell he'll be a spy again. He deserves so much more than that. Gods, you all deserve more than you had before."
Melok raised an eyebrow as she let out a little giggle.
"Hey, Filius, when you grow up, do you think you can help me out on a project?" she asked her Godson. "There's this girl, Lavender. I had a conversation with her daughter, in Beta, about how we both wished there was a reality where Lavender lived. Do you think we could swing that? Merlin knows Lavender was annoying as hell sometimes, and I pity my younger counterpart if she's got to share dorm space with her again, but she died young twice, and both times it was completely avoidable. Of course, I'm not certain I'll be around long enough to see Lavender growing up, so I'll have to recruit help in securing her future. Crux events and all that. I'm still trying to find a work around, but the Arithmancy isn't promising."
He knew enough about temporal physics to know what a crux event was. Melok frowned at the implication that Hermione anticipated not being around after a certain point, and while it was well and good for someone to anticipate dying at a reasonably old age, Hermione was a young Witch and a Mage at that. There was no reason she shouldn't live for at least another hundred years, likely significantly longer. He also didn't know what a Crux event would have to do with her. She shouldn't viably be in this timeline. Hermione and Sirius were aberrations, and therefore according to temporal mechanics, there shouldn't be any crux events which pertained to them.
Hermione hummed softly as Filius cooed. It took a moment for Melok to place, but eventually and to his surprise, he realized that it was a Goblin lullaby that the Witch was singing to his son, and he couldn't help the smile that formed on his lips. Seeing Filius getting closer and closer to sleep, Melok knew his opportunity to kiss his son goodnight was closing, so he stepped into the room. "Are you doing alright with him?" he asked, as if he'd not just witnessed her doing more than fine.
"I assure you, we are respectively wrapped around one anothers' fingers," she said softly, pressing a kiss to the baby's temple. Then, she dipped a little so Filius was in his easy reach. "Say goodnight to your son, will you? I was just about to put him down."
He pressed another kiss to the boy's forehead, running his fingers through wisps of dark hair, and letting his magic reach out to his child very briefly, smiling when he felt his child's immature core reach out in response. "Goodnight, my son," he whispered.
Hermione straightened back up and then deposited the child into his crib, tucking him in carefully before wandlessly dousing the light in the corner, leaving only a small night light just inside the door. Melok waved for her to follow him out of the room, and they both moved into the main living room before speaking again.
"How's Genia?" Hermione asked.
"Sleeping," he replied. "Fever finally broke about dinner time. I think she's past the worst of it. Thank you for coming over today. Genia of course insisted she didn't need pampered, but I at least felt better being able to look after her."
"You're a worry wart, you know that right?" Hermione teased.
"I'm merely smart enough to value what's valuable," he countered.
A look of amusement danced in her eyes. "I had a Charms Professor who once said something similar to me."
Melok knew she was guarding what she told him, and understood why, but he now knew exactly what Charms Professor she was referring to, and was more than a little amused that his son had taken to quoting him, in whatever reality. "They must have been a clever individual," he remarked.
"Ravenclaw," she sighed.
Ah, so Ravenclaw like his Mum, Melok thought with amusement. "The best sorts are."
"Too bad I don't make the cut of best sorts," she bantered.
"I imagine you're an exception to the rule in most aspects of your life, Hermione," he teased. "Hogwarts House not withstanding."
She let out a warm laugh. "Do you take pride in always knowing the right thing to say? You really are quite the smooth talker."
"And you're not, Miss Granger?" he countered. "Honestly, practiced liars often are the smoothest talkers. Life in the shadows is only possible when you've learned how to be invisible in the sun."
"That is a blunt, albeit fair assessment," she said quietly. "I don't know I'd thought about it that way. I wish the lies weren't necessary."
"They need not be," he urged. "You can trust me, Hermione. I know you cannot be honest with everyone, but you need not bear your burden alone."
She smiled at him gently, and he couldn't help but notice how haunted her eyes looked. "I know I can trust you, Melok. It isn't an issue of trust. It's an issue of my willingness to allow your perception of the world to be fundamentally altered. I know you're far from young, and I know you are far from innocent, but the things I know… what is to come… Melok, telling you the truth will radically alter the way you see the world, and as much as I want to share my burden, I care enough for your innocence to hesitate in destroying it. I hope you can understand that."
He did understand. Melok had been in a similar position with students before, wanting them to understand things, but not wanting them to lose what was left of their innocence, and knowing they could not have both sides of the coin. In his experience, he trusted the willingness of the student in most cases. "Just know that I'm aware of the price," he said, "and to be able to better help you pave a more secure future for my child, I'm willing to pay it. Ultimately, it's your choice to confide in me or not, and I do understand why you hesitate, but please know I'm willing."
Hermione leaned forward and placed a lingering kiss to his cheek, before pulling away and offering a nod. "I know," she said.
Somehow, Melok thought as his heart beat wildly, he found himself unsure exactly what she knew, and not for the first time questioning exactly what the nature of his counterpart's relationship with her had been.
It was the week before Christmas and Aberforth was in a foul mood. Of course, being an Occlumens, he was more than able to hide feelings deep within his mind, although perhaps he was not as good at doing so as he thought.
"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, sitting down across the bar from him, the moment she arrived for her Potions lesson.
"Melok mentioned you could sense even the most subtle shifts in mood," he grumbled, pouring her a drink and placing it in front of her.
She offered a wry grin. "Forgive me, Aberforth, but your poor mood is anything but subtle. What's happened?"
"Argument with my son," he admitted.
Hermione took a sip of the drink he'd given her. "Merlin, this is good. What is it?"
"Poison," he replied gruffly.
She snorted. "Right then. So what have you and Aurelius rowed over?"
"He's talking about changing his name," Aberforth admitted. "He only just got his name back a few years ago, so it boggles me that he's keen to drop it at all, much less knowing full well that if he doesn't keep the Dumbledore name, he's effectively committing to the end of the Dumbledore line. Aurelius is young enough still to have children. I suppose Albus and I theoretically could, but we're both a bit old to be taking wives, and Albus is gayer than a conga line so he's outright disinclined."
"What do you mean Aurelius just got his name back?" she asked, frowning.
"Right, I guess I've never told you about his youth," he sighed. "It's something of a long story, but about a year after he was born, his Mum died - Dragon Pox. I knew about him being born and all, but her parents wouldn't allow us to marry. They weren't the good sorts. Evelyn's younger sister, Lena, learned that they meant to do away with Aurelius, who they considered a bastard blight on the family line, so she took him and fled, getting on a ship making for America. The ship ended up sinking en route, and Lena died, although Aurelius survived and upon arriving in America, was left off at an Orphanage. He was adopted by a woman called Mary Lou Barebone, who called him Credence, and he grew up being called Credence Barebone, with no idea who he really was."
"Bloody hell," she breathed. "How did he make it back to you?"
"The Dumbledore curse," Aberforth laughed. "He began to develop his Obscurus. Mary Lou didn't treat him well at all. He was horribly abused in her care, and had no magical training at all. Grindelwald was in America at the time, however, and Aurelius came to his attention. With as well as Grindelwald knew Albus, I suspect he knew from the off who Aurelius was - simply recognizing the magical signature - but even if he wasn't sure from the off, a bit of research would have confirmed it. There's a bunch of twists and turns and so forth in the tale, but ultimately Aurelius ended up working for Grindelwald for a while, a fact that he deeply regrets. I think a great deal of why he wants to be a Healer is to make up for the damage he did while working for that bastard."
"I imagine Grindelwald took up with Aurelius simply as a means to use him against Albus," Hermione mused. "It would have been a knife in his gut to see his own nephew at Grindelwald's side, after he himself had turned down the opportunity to be in the same position."
"You know," Aberforth said, pouring himself his own glass of firewhiskey, "for a woman who claims my brother has never met her, "you sure know a great deal about him. I find that curious."
She smiled sweetly. "I imagine you do."
"I also find it curious that you claim he has not met you, but you never state that you have not met him," he pointed out.
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Your point, Mister Dumbledore?"
"I suspect you're a time traveler," Aberforth said bluntly, laying his cards on the table. "I respect if you don't feel inclined to trust me with details as of yet, but the fact that you trust me enough to be candid about some of the things you have been candid about suggests to me that you mean to trust me, at some point. I suppose my point is that I'm not unaware of the long game, nor blind to the fact that we're playing one."
She laughed. "Very well then, I'll confirm at least that much. Yes, I'm a bloody time traveler. I trust you're smart enough not to spread that about."
"I'm not a damn Gryffindor!" he snapped, looking annoyed.
Hermione smirked. "I am."
Aberforth groaned. "Really? To think, I was honestly starting to like you."
"Sorry," she shrugged. "True though. On the up side, I believe the impulsiveness that most Gryffindors are prone to was beaten out of me as a consequence of being a child soldier. That, and watching Albus die because of his own impulsiveness."
"So do you come from the past, or future?" Aberforth inquired.
"Future," she confided. "About fifty years, via another reality. I've known two versions of your brother, although only one version of you. You were dead in Beta, as was Aurelius. Aurelius was dead in Alpha as well. That was why I was so keen to save him the day we met, you know. I'd only known realities where he didn't survive, and I saw how broken that left Albus and you."
"You make it sound like you were friends with Albus," he said, frowning. "Yet you tend to speak of him as though you'd prefer to avoid him at all cost."
"I have known two different versions of him. Once, I was his student, and later soldier. The second time the roles reversed, even if our ages had not. The situation merely merited it. I learned very quickly that power is ill suited to your brother," she said in a cool tone, voice hard. "Does he turn to darkness? No. But neither is he truly good, when given the ability to dictate the fate of the masses. One of my brothers had a miserable childhood because of Albus' concept of the greater good, and it was completely preventable in a dozen different ways. So no, we were not friends, Aberforth. At best, we came to be respected comrades."
"Brother?" he asked. "I suppose you would have left behind a family, coming here. You never talk about them, so I just didn't think about it."
"My family is a complicated issue," she admitted. "In Alpha, my parents were Obliviated to protect them from an ongoing war. They had no memory of ever having a daughter, so in effect, I lost them. I had no siblings, biologically speaking, however there was a boy called Harry who I shared a Kinship bond with. He was the brother I was just talking about, who Albus' machinations cost a happy childhood. In Beta, my Dad died long before I arrived, although my Mum was still living and had since remarried and had a son with her new husband, so through that I ended up with a biological brother, called Stephen. I also discovered another Kinship bond there in a man called Severus, who ironically I'd known in Alpha, although our relationship there never developed enough to realize the bond. Mum's second husband died a few years before I arrived in Beta, and she remarried again shortly before I left and they had just learned they were expecting, so I imagine I've another sibling by now on that end, although I'll never have a relationship with them. As I said…"
"Your family is a complicated issue," Aberforth mused. "What about here? I mean, obviously you'd be a good deal older than your own parents, but of the men you had Kinship bonds with, is there a chance of reconnecting with them?"
"Harry will be a relative, when he's born," she said shrugging. "He'll grow up viewing me as an Aunt, so I doubt even with the Kinship bond he'll ever see me as a sister, or I see him as a brother, this time around. We may be closer than most Aunt and Nephews, but the dynamic will be different. I do hope for a sibling-like relationship with Severus, though. He'll be born in only a few years, actually. I'd like you to plan on taking him on as an Apprentice, in due time. I can't begin to express how awkward I will feel if I am the one to help him gain his Mastery, even if I'd be qualified to do so by then."
"How good is the kid?" he asked, curious.
Hermione grinned. "Severus, in Alpha, grew up to be the youngest Potions Grandmaster in history, and then became the Potions Master at Hogwarts, Head of Slytherin House, and later Headmaster. Granted, he was only Headmaster for a year before he was killed in the war, which I suppose was not all that surprising considering the fact that on top of doing all of that, he was a double agent for our side, Master Occlumens, and spent years upon years hiding from a Dark Lord that he thought the guy was a total prat. How good is he? Severus is amazing."
"Sounds like you really loved him," Aberforth whispered.
"Oh, that version of him, not so much," she laughed. "Respected, yes. I didn't learn to love him till I ended up in Beta. Remember, I told you that I didn't realize we had a Kinship bond in Alpha? Anyhow, Beta Severus and I worked very closely together for six months, and yes, I loved him, and he loved me. I think of all the people I left behind there, I miss him the most. There are others I care about deeply, but I either already know their counterparts, and that dulls the ache, or I am working toward a future where the version of them I knew and loved will never exist, so I've mourned in my way and am content in that. With Severus, I know that the man who was and will be my brother may be different than I recall, shaped how the timeline has changed, but at the core, he'll be the same Severus, because what made him who he was are the same basic things that he'll still have to face this time around. That means that I am stuck missing him until he comes into being, if that makes any sort of sense."
"In the sort of way that involves temporal mechanics giving me a headache," he admitted.
Hermione smirked. "I've spent so much of the last year poring over temporal Arithmancy calculations that I could do them in my sleep at this point. I'm well past the basic mechanics giving me a headache."
Aberforth shook his head. "Right. Well, all of that said, we did have some work to do. Did you have a particular potion you wanted to go over today?"
She paused, thinking, and then a small smile formed on her lips, and he thought it was likely she was remembering something by the far away look in her eyes. "How about we do the Mandrake Restorative Draught?"
He nodded approvingly. It was one of the potions they still needed to cover on their syllabus. "Have you ever brewed it before? Highly complicated, and most Potions Masters struggle to get it right."
Hermione shook her head. "No. Had to take it once, though. Severus brewed it."
Aberforth shook his head. He was looking forward to meeting this Severus kid. "Alright then. Let's get to work."
PLEASE REVIEW!