The entrance door snapped shut and Hermione raised her head from the book she was reading. Sitting behind the ancient desk in the library, her new empire, she has been trying to decipher a thick French book, La magie défensive avancée, un livre pratique, with her broken French for the last two hours. The wards around the house emitted a melodic gong, and Hermione relaxed; whoever the person was, he was included in the Fidelius charm. Besides, Ron and the elves were still busy downstairs.
Shaking her head, the young witch irritatedly snapped the useless book close, throwing it back on the desk, and massaged her aching temples for a while, closing her eyes. She had spent four hours in a row trying to look up the Talking Patronus spell in the Black - now Granger - library, but none of the books she'd consulted so far mentioned any modifications of the standard Patronus spell.
Suddenly, she slapped her forehead. "Granger, you're losing your edge," she playfully chastised herself, allowing a smile to form on her pretty face. "All you have to do is get your mirror and talk to Professor McGonagall. She knows the spell; you've seen her perform it at least twice." She happily stood and stretched her aching legs and arms, then made her way out of the library, but not before sending all books, lying scattered on the desk, back to their places on the shelves with an almost invisible wrist movement.
She unwillingly smiled, satisfied with her perfectly – as usual – performed spell. These last two days, the three students and Leticia were training hard in the basement, brushing up their spellwork and learning a few really nasty jinxes from Remus, who came over to help them. One of the new jinxes, much to Hermione's distaste, was Dissectum, which was equally suitable to severe your opponent's wand, limb or head. When she beheaded her first training dummy with the purple flash bursting from the tip of her wand, she imagined for a moment what the spell would do to a living opponent and violently threw up her breakfast. Half an hour later, her legs still shaking and her face still somewhat green, she was, however, silently nodding when Remus explained her that in this war one couldn't be picky.
"You've heard about boxing, right?" he asked, pouring a generous amount of Firewhiskey into her steaming hot tea, handing the mug over.
Hermione thankfully accepted the mug and took a careful sip of the hot liquid, painfully flinching as it burnt the tip of her tongue. Blinking away the tears, she nodded silently.
"In boxing, there are rules. It's a sport, albeit a tough one. It allows you to beat the crap out of someone, in a controlled way, so to say." Remus stopped, and frowned his brows, seemingly deep in thoughts, while his fingers absentmindedly drummed on the table. Hermione took another sip and waited patiently for the wizard to continue.
Remus broke out of his reverie. "Imagine now, Hermione, that you are a boxer who found himself in a dark alley, surrounded by a handful of thugs. Would you still stick to the rules that had been taught to you or would you like to save your life using whichever methods you can?"
Hermione raised her eyes and cast an understanding, serious glance at him. "Of course, I'd try to get out of there, and possibly alive."
"Exactly!" Remus suddenly slammed his fist on the table, startling the girl. "You'd pick up a litter bin and hit someone with it, straight into his face. You'd kick someone in the groin and then knee him in the face. You'd do everything you can to save your life. Now, imagine that your DA sessions are the boxing ring. You get beaten, you get bruised, sent flying into walls, but in a controlled environment. This here, however, with Voldemort and his allies in power, is the dark alley we've all found ourselves. This is war, for life and death, and it's either us or them. There's no other alternative, only kill or be killed. They, for one, will show no mercy."
"Remus, I'm frightened," Hermione raised her tear-stained eyes at him again. "I shouldn't be talking about wars, fighting and killing! I'm only an eighteen-year old girl who hasn't lived yet and I don't want to die! I want to date, love, be loved, just like anybody of my age!"
The older wizard placed his mug on the table and knelt besides her chair. Their eyes, the grey and the brown, interconnected. Reaching for her hands, he spoke slowly.
"Hermione, you are the most extraordinary witch I've ever met. You would certainly give Lily Evans a run for her money. Listen now to me very carefully." She nodded, silently hiccupping.
"When this war is over, you'll be free to live your life just like anybody else. You are not going to die. We'll make sure you are all going to survive this. We'll teach you everything we know and even more than that. It's not only Voldemort who's recruiting and we have been booking some success as well. So, when the time comes and the battle will have to be fought, you will not go unprepared." He assuringly squeezed the girl's hands and she cast a thankful glance at him.
"Can you promise, Remus?" she inquired in a weak voice. "Can you be sure that Harry survives that thrice blasted prophecy? Will Ron and I ever have a chance to live our lives and love each other?"
Remus suddenly felt a pang in his heart. He knew he couldn't give her those false promises. Having been this situation before, having lost too many good friends in the first war, he knew what the other side was capable of, but he was deliberate to stand his ground, seeing the girl's desperation.
"Hermione, I'm not a Seer," he answered seriously. "I can't see into the future. In this war, anything can happen. But let me put it this way: you are a too serious opponent to Voldemort; you are a power not to be taken lightly, and you have powers he has not."
Hermione scoffed at hearing these much hated words, making her best friend's whole life a misery, but Remus went on, seemingly not taking note of the interruption."I know what you think about all this, and especially about Professor Trelawney, but prophecies, real prophecies are not to be taken lightly. It's our task to ensure the outcome which is good for us and not for the other side. So yes, there's a really good chance for you to survive this war and live happily ever after."
"You're a terrible liar, Remus Lupin," she smiled at the wizard, her features seemingly relaxing. "You are, just as every man, a terrible liar. Let's go back to the boys, I want to try that jinx again."
Smiling for the first time in the last hour, Remus stood and pulled her up in one smooth movement. Suddenly, he felt her lips pressed against his unshaven cheek, completely startling him. When he caught his breath again, the girl was already in the doorway, not even looking back at him. Shaking his head, he produced his wand, sending a very weak Tickling jinx at the girl. Before he could count to three, however, his wand had been torn out of his hand and he found himself stuck to the ceiling, hanging with his head down.
Wand still at ready, Hermione made a step into his direction, her lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes shooting daggers at the older wizard. "You... you..." she was unable to utter anything comprehensive. Huffing in annoyance, she drew a sharp breath, pocketed her wand and Remus' as well and left the kitchen, smashing the door behind her.
It took Remus half an hour before he was able to untie his laces and free himself from his somewhat awkward position. Later that day, however, he shooed away the girl's weak attempt to apologize.
"That was the kick in the groin I was hoping for, Hermione."
The girl returned his wand without saying a word, but her eyes were laughing.
"Hermione, Ron, I'm back!" shouted Harry, on the run taking off his wet robe; it had been pouring the whole day. Having gotten no answer, he shook his head and proceeded towards the kitchen and fixed three mugs of coffee, placing a Preserving charm on them. Then, he decided to head towards the basement to check on Ron's proceedings and handed him a coffee. After a short chat, he took off to find Hermione.
Having searched the whole house for his best friend, a short while later he found himself before the door with the snake doorknob on the fourth floor. The boy wondered for a while; he didn't remember ever having seen this door. Cereus lazily opened his eye and measured the visitor, who, startled by the sudden movement, took an involuntary step backwards.
"Ah, the Boy-who-lived... the new, Half-blood Masssster of the Noble Housssse of Black..." the snake hissed with a venomous edge in his voice. Harry looked at him intently and was about to open his mouth, when he heard Hermione's familiar voice from behind the door.
"Don't listen to Cereus, Harry. Just tell him the password, which is, as of now, 'pureblood', but I hope you'll change it to something more appropriate," the girl spoke. Harry smiled at the unmistakable irony in his friend's voice.
"So, Cereus, 'pureblood' is it." He saw the cobra's eyes light up green and heard the locks in the door click. Wolfishly grinning, he pulled his wand and touched the snake with its tip.
"From this moment on, I wish the password to be 'Sirius Black'." He could have sworn he heard the snake emit a frustrated sigh, but said nothing.
"Very well, Masssster," Cereus answered after what seemed an eternity, stressing the last word and closing his eyes, he rolled up again, allowing the door to open.
Harry entered the spacious library and his eyes lit up when he saw Hermione sitting at the magnificent table, deeply immersed in her thoughts. Several thick books and a few sheets of parchments, already filled with her neat handwriting and tens of diagrams, were scattered on the table. Raising her left hand, she waved him 'hello'.
Freeing up some space, Harry silently placed the tray on the desk. Gently laying his hands on her shoulders, he gave a quick peck on her head. Not only had they been best friends for six years, now she was also the closest to what he could call 'family'.
Hermione felt immense happiness every time Harry was around her, but it was not the knee-weakening, mind-bending feeling she'd recently been having in Ron's presence. Having finally admitted their feelings, the two became very comfortable around each other and even though Ron hadn't stopped being the "insensitive git" and Hermione the "insufferable know-it-all", even the blind could see they were very much in love.
Harry, however, began feeling more and more alone, left out. He was badly missing Ginny, and even though they were speaking through Remus' magical mirrors at least a few times a day, it couldn't deny the fact that she wasn't here with him. He would retire early in the evening and just lie on his bed, sometimes not even bothering to change into his pyjamas. He would think of Ginny, of the few happy days they'd spent together before Dumbledore's death. He would think of whether or not he'd done the right thing leaving her. Sometimes, he would sit on the carpet in the living room and Leticia would keep him company, talking about things, important and unimportant, or just watch the dying embers in the fireplace in a convenient silence. Awkward as this friendship might have seemed, they felt actually quite comfortable in each others' proximity.
Seeing him in pain hurt Hermione, but she didn't know how to help his best friend. To get Ginny over here was no option. First of all, she was unprepared for a war, even more unprepared than the four of them. Second, with Molly and Arthur around, she was relatively safe. Third, she planned to go back to Hogwarts, and the less she knew about what they were about to do, the less danger she would be in.
Hermione finally dropped her quill and leaned back, resting her head against Harry and closing her eyes.
"Just what I wanted, Harry. You know you can always seduce me with a coffee," she admitted, taking a deep breath.
"Come to think of it, I have to tell Ron about it," he joked, taking a cup from the tray and putting it under her nose, teasing her with the pleasant smell of the hot drink. "He's the one to seduce you, not me."
Looking around in the library, he admired the place for a short while. "What is this room? How come we've never been in here before?"
"My library, in your house. Strange, isn't it?" Hermione answered simply, but with a playful spark in her eyes, while taking a blissful sip from the coffee.
Harry was obviously missing something. "Your library?" he asked again. "Since when do you have a library here?"
"A few days, actually, you Neanderthaler." Harry was caught by surprise by the familiar voice, and with the speed of a lightning turned around. Sirius, whose portrait was now hanging on the wall where it belonged, right behind the desk, emitted a short laugh, curiously resembling a bark. "It was my belated birthday present to your sister, dear godson."
"Sirius! So good to see you!" Harry's face lit up. Completely forgetting about his coffee, he walked up to the portrait and looked deep into the painted eyes.
"You've grown up, Harry. Quite the man I had hoped to see you grow into." Sirius' eyes cast an appreciating glance at his godson. "Your sister here says your magic's grown even stronger. Seems like your DADA lessons with Snivellus were still good for something. Only, I can imagine he hadn't been very impressed that you had stolen his 'Sectumsempra'."
Sensing Harry's questioning look, he laughed again. "Harry, I know everything about your sixth year. I also happen to know that you finally found the courage to kiss Ginny."
Dark clouds overshadowed Harry's face and he swallowed heavily. "Sirius, I would give everything to be with her, but I had to do it. I had to break up with her. The more people know we don't date any more, the more chance she might have to survive."
"You are right, and at the same time, you are wrong, Harry." Sirius stood up from his chair and started pacing in his painted world. "She is a blood traitor, the daughter of two Order members, and as such she is a prime target. Her dating you had just added up to the total picture."
"I don't know how I can protect her, Sirius, and this feeling of being powerless slowly eats me away," admitted Harry, sighing deeply. Hermione stood up, walked up to him and pulled him into a one-armed hug. "Love is a great power, Harry. Remember what Dumbledore said. I'm sure everything will be fine with Ginny."
Sirius sat back at his desk, grinning ferociously. "Hermione, would you show it to him?" he asked secretfully, and the girl smiled back at him with a knowing glance. Producing the package from the cupboard, she handed it over to Harry, then stepped back and waited for his reaction.
It took Harry half an hour to come by from the shock after hearing the soft voice of his mother whispering his name, for the first time in his conscious life.