Hermione did not like not knowing every detail of a plan before the first step was taken. It left her deeply discomfited, her skin almost begging to be scratched, but nowhere she can narrow down, and a feeling of great anxiety at nothing in particular swirling through her mind and body.

For two days, they had settled into a holding pattern. It was both frustrating and a relief, and Hermione wasn't quite sure what to do with either feeling.

For one thing, it had allowed her to avoid nearly everyone, to keep her head down, and to allow her mind to go through everything she knew.

For another, it also allowed her mind to go through everything she didn't know.

And with the news that Sirius Black, half-man, half-dog in behaviour, pretty much, was her father, she didn't know a lot . And that 'a lot' wasn't really something she could look up in a book. Well. She could look some things up in books, and she did just that.

With the addition of Narcissa and Draco Malfoy to the household, Sirius and Remus were busy getting them settled, popping back and forth to different Black properties that Narcissa was sure wouldn't be infested with Dark Lords and sycophants. They couldn't have their best, their latest, and not even their wands—they were using old family wands for the moment, from what Hermione understood—but they could have a fair amount of necessities, and even some fripperies and comfort items.

Comfort items, and Draco, were not words she had ever expected to think of in the same sentence. He had been surprisingly quiet throughout the process, from the little she had seen of him, and had helped to move things as much as the two older men and even his mother. There were three elves that came with them—one from each of Narcissa's Black dower properties—and Dobby, if not Kreacher, was over the moon to meet new 'friends'.

Dobby was also her partner in crime, so to speak. He'd helped her get around Grimmauld without catching the attention of everyone else, and had aided her in figuring out which tomes in the family library were safe for her to touch and which weren't. Ironically enough, she supposed, she didn't have to worry about anti-muggleborn curses or hexes anymore. Which actually opened up a fair number of books for her perusal.

Hermione Granger wanted to learn more about her new family. As much as she could. She knew at least part of the plan was for her to take on her original family name, Black, and for that she needed—well… not really needed , but she wanted to know as much as possible about her family's history, both recent and past. Some of it was very far in the past.

Despite her desire for knowledge about the Blacks, the only contact she had with one was when she flooed to Andromeda's house (Sirius gave some lame excuse as to why she couldn't come over to Grimmauld which Andromeda promptly called poppycock once Hermione shook the ashes from her clothes). Her healing was progressing nicely, and Andromeda and Ted both thought she could handle some light duelling and exercise as long as Hermione promised not to overdo it.

Flooing back home, Hermione wondered just how Sirius was going to explain Narcissa's presence at Grimmauld to the woman in question's sister , especially considering she'd been let in on the first few parts of the plan just the previous night.

Both she and Narcissa—"I, for one, cannot be seen in public yet, so I'll be going as Padfoot, especially as I have some business at Gringott's and they don't give a hoot if we're wanted criminals or not. Moony here would be caught dead in her presence, probably literally. Harry would draw stupid amounts of attention after the Ministry affair, and we're trying to keep Draco out of sight of any of Voldemort's supporters."—would be going to Diagon Alley tomorrow, with Padfoot accompanying them as a small layer of extra protection. He would be acting as Hermione's pet dog, which in itself was rather hilarious (and Hermione could swear Crookshanks already knew, as the beast was giving her the cold shoulder right now, much to Sirius and Harry's amusement), and Narcissa and Hermione were both accomplished duellists in their own right. Draco and Harry were, as well, but they were just too high profile.

Plus, Hermione accompanying Narcissa played right into the first parts of The Plan: introducing Hermione to society as Hermione Black, with Narcissa Malfoy as a chaperone and sponsor of a sort, with all the pedigree and social graces that would land Hermione some of the most coveted invitations and acquaintances. Most of which Hermione did not want , but she had been told—and had guessed even more—that this was at least half for the benefit of getting Sirius declared a free man, and also to give him power in the wake of his acquittal to do good on the Wizengamot and support causes and changes that Hermione was eager to see done.

And as Heir Black, Hermione would be a part of that, helping her… father… with his plans and plots and politicking for bills he would be directing as well as sponsoring and co-sponsoring. Hermione would have a direct role in those, but she also recognized her unique position (and Harry's… he would be doing his own work in this realm as well, the poor soul… Hermione preemptively rolled her eyes at the dramatics to come) and power she held as an eligible heiress to one of the most powerful and ancient families in the land.

Two days wasn't a long time to come to terms with her lot in life (and, frankly, she had not done so), but it was a start, and today they had business to attend to right alongside the first step of The Plan.

They met in the parlour, the floo fire going steadily, just the three of them. Lady Malfoy had already said goodbye to her pouting son, who'd baulked at not being allowed to accompany them (listening to his dressing down by his own mother had brought endless amusement to Sirius and Harry, though Remus and Hermione had scolded them later for listening in on a private matter), and Harry had been sent off to the Weasleys, partly because they were good friends, but also partly because Sirius really needed Molly in a good mood when it came out that he was hiding Narcissa and Draco Malfoy away in the Order of the Phoenix's headquarters … which would change soon, Hermione hoped, for all their sakes. For now, it would have to do.

But Harry also had a semi-secret second aim while he was there; to gather as many memories as he could from both himself and Ron of the night they met and saw and heard what Peter Pettigrew had to say of the night the Potters had died. The night, and subsequent murders of thirteen muggles. The memories had always been part of Harry, Ron, and Hermione's plan to set Sirius free and declare him unequivocally innocent. When Sirius had caught wind of the plan, he had actually been touched, proud, and glad that it fit in well with what he and Narcissa had spoken about re: the subject in question.

So, Harry was set to leave just after them, unbreakable vials clinking in his pocket as he paced the floo parlour.

Remus had gone ahead to Diagon Alley to do some shopping of his own, but he'd still be there as a backup in case things went awry.

Hermione wasn't discounting 'things going awry' as Hermione throwing her bag at Lady Malfoy while robes shopping. It was a nightmare she had never even imagined imagining.

But… she did indeed need new robes. Not just new school ones (she'd somehow outgrown them by a ridiculous margin this last year at Hogwarts—why had no one told her?) but also dress robes that were fit for parties of different types, teas, luncheons, legal meetings, bank meetings, meetings of so many different types, all of which seemingly needed a different type of robe according to Lady Malfoy? Merlin, she even needed robes that would befit her status as Heir Black when she made her inevitable appearance before the governing body of the wizarding world, and the same robes would double as appropriate wear to visit with the Minister for Magic—with whom she would doubtless be meeting many times before Sirius had his name cleared. She hoped it would be on the lesser end, especially as she vastly disliked Scrimgeour, who looked to be the man who would replace Fudge, who was on serious outs with the wizarding community following the undeniable proof that Voldemort was, indeed, alive and seeking dominion over all… again .

So much to do, so little time, but at least she felt like they could get Sirius' innocence squared away before Hogwarts started up again on September 1st. Everything else would just… have to fall into place.

Which, unfortunately, was where Sirius and Lady Malfoy and Remus , the betrayer, had ganged up on her and told her she would be spending more time with Draco once they arrived at Hogwarts. "All part of the plan, kitten," Sirius had said, "especially as he was raised from birth to be the Malfoy Heir." Narcissa took a little bit of pity on her, however, and added, "The Greengrass heir will likely be amenable to help ease your way into society as well, along with some of your other classmates, which is why we will be seeking them out specifically over the summer."

Hermione groaned at the memory, covering her face with her hands. She immediately removed them as Sirius chuckled at her, and Lady Malfoy tut-tutted . Hermione's five year plan was in ruins—but, honestly, even her one year plan had been in ruins the moment Voldemort showed his shiny pate to the world at large. Actually, none of her yearly plans had ever worked, except for her revision ones, unless she was in trouble at the end of the… cancel that. None of her plans ever worked on schedule, even if they worked in spirit. But this … this called for a major overhaul of everything .

Hermione hoped that she looked appropriate for an outing to Diagon Alley as the Heir Black. She resisted the urge to look down as Lady Malfoy approached, instead gathering her courage and meeting the woman's gaze head-on and giving her a slight curtsey (nothing fancy, or her nerves would have her keeling right over; the adrenaline of the other night had given her curtsey depth and elegance she was sorely lacking at the moment). She was wearing her sapphire and bronze robes again, at Narcissa's—"In private at least, dear,"—insistence, though Hermione had refused to let her hair be tamed or her face done up. It was all part of Narcissa and Sirius' mostly-nebulous plans, which they'd decided to tell 'the children' only when the next stage was upon them. Well, theoretically, as today's outing was to be the first implementation of said plan.

The only part of the plan they'd officially been told (besides everything Harry and Hermione had in all likelihood correctly surmised) was that today Hermione and Lady Malfoy (and Padfoot) would be making an appearance in Diagon Alley, as they had a few errands they needed to run. But they were to be as well-dressed as possible, which meant using the only pair of robes Hermione had that were fancy enough. Even then they were a tailor-transfigured set from Tonks' barely-touched dresses which had been acquired in an emergency floo call to Andromeda the night the Malfoys had requested their aid.

Hermione couldn't help but tug at the robes, feeling out of place in them, even if they did make her feel a little more grown up and… pretty. But the robes would serve their purpose as well, just as much as Hermione's appearance with Lady Malfoy. They were hoping to entice the ever-curious, ever-gossiping crowd of purebloods and higher-status halfbloods.

While tidying everyone up in the floo parlour in preparation for their departure, Narcissa's gaze had caught on the still puffy and glaringly red scar tissue peeking over the top edge of her bronze under-robe. Hermione had brought a protective hand up to her collarbone immediately, and gritted out, "It stays, or I stay."

Expecting a fight, Hermione was shocked and confused—Lady Malfoy was constantly confusing her, honestly, and she didn't know what to do with the fact she was her godmother , and by magical law now her de facto mother , even—when the woman's gaze softened. Narcissa reached a hand up, but stopped herself short of actually touching Hermione, though she whispered so that Sirius (or so Narcissa thought) couldn't hear her. "Wear your survival with pride, Heir Black." Before Hermione could do anything beyond parting her lips in startlement, Narcissa moved along to Harry (who wasn't sure if he should run and hide, if his earlier expression was still any indication) and went over his part of the plan he would be implementing at the Weasleys today.

Instead, Hermione switched her expression to a slightly awkward smile as Sirius appeared in front of her, matching the smile he was showing her as well. Hermione imagined it would be awkward for a while, but she'd always liked Sirius anyway, so…

"Hermione," he greeted warmly, visibly taking a breath and letting it out carefully.

"Sirius," she returned. Then her smile widened as she suggested, "or should I address you as Lord Black?" It wouldn't be long now, if they had their way, until he could properly claim his seat.

Sirius mock-scowled at her and didn't even bother answering that deliberate prod. He rolled his eyes but then his expression matured and stilled as he took a step back and looked her up and down. The expression was so out-of-character for the man, that Hermione couldn't help but hold her breath as she waited for him to fill the silence in their corner of the parlour.

"Are you sure about this, Hermione?" he asked quietly, his features trying and failing to hide his vulnerability.

She knew immediately that he wasn't simply asking her about the shopping expedition, or the robes, or the company she would be going with, or even the fact she'd have to start rubbing elbows with people who just last year would sooner have spat on her than anything else. She knew, immediately, that he was asking her if she was comfortable letting people know she was a Black. That she was the Heir. That she was Sirius' daughter . They hadn't spoken of it in the flurry of activity—and then desperately needed sleep—and then constant avoidance the last two days, that had occurred after she'd learned the truth. Everything had been a blur, and then more of a blur once she'd woken up. Lady Malfoy had been ready to take on the world, as if desperate to regain a sense of normalcy in the wake of her escape from her own home, but Remus of all people had talked her down into waiting a couple of days so that they could work out a few more details, and—shockingly—Lady Malfoy had listened to the werewolf. Without even a hint of a sneer. But it was true, too, that they really did need the break after the Malfoys flight from their home, and the upheaval of gathering anything they would need, and so many other things… and research . Hermione felt inundated with research on the Blacks and wizarding family history in general, but it was better than the alternative:

She'd barely even had time to think of the issue (Sirius being her father ) herself, but it had always been spooling in the back of her head, no matter what they had been doing. And then the visit to the Malfoys, where she had announced her real name, and Lady Malfoy had acknowledged their bond…

She supposed she had already made her decision, even if she hadn't actively planned it. It had just… happened.

"Yes, I'm sure," she whispered back to Sirius, straightening her shoulders despite the pain the movement caused across her healing flesh. "I never expected… this…" She gestured vaguely between them, but let a small smile grace her lips. "It's still so new, and I can't deny that my brain is screaming at me to stop and think and give this time, but there is no time." All her words were coming out at once, in one big rush, it felt like—and she was sure that Harry and Lady Malfoy were listening, but at this point she didn't really care. "I don't know what I would have done if we didn't have to— need to —help the Malfoys or get your innocence worked out in such a short timeframe. But I can't think like that. I can't deal in what-ifs . It just… is the way that it is, and those are the circumstances I have to make my decision in. And I choose to acknowledge you. I choose to be your… daughter." She caught his eyes briefly before looking away, slightly and uncharacteristically shy. But in that brief glance she had seen the hope and joy that was filling Sirius' face at her words. Her cheeks pinkened.

The clock on the mantle chimed ten in the morning, but no one in the room spoke a word that it was time to leave. It wasn't like they had to meet anyone in particular at a particular time.

"I just…" Hermione choked a little, unsure of what to say, and found herself trembling like a leaf. Immediately, Sirius opened his arms, and she fell into them in a way she never would have before she found out he was her father. This was a fatherly hug in the same way that John Granger's hugs were fatherly. This was a familial hug, full of comfort, in the way that Jean Granger's hugs were filled with love and comfort and warmth in a time of need. This was all that and more; something unique to Sirius, unique to Hermione, unique to the relationship that was slowly sprouting between them and that would grow into something truly great if they gave it the time that it deserved. Hermione deserved time with a father she never knew. Sirius deserved time with a daughter he had thought lost forever. They both deserved unequivocal love, and both could recognize it in the other; in how they treated those they cared for, loved, supported, and were there for in times of need. They saw that capacity in the other, and knew that it was what they wanted from their own love.

Hermione didn't know how to love in halves, she didn't know how to protect with anything less than her full self, she didn't know how to back away even when it was sometimes for the betterment of a friendship if she did. And she recognised all that in Sirius and more. Things she never quite wanted to admit about herself, and even things she didn't know she had the capacity for. Good things and bad alike. But all love, all the same.

Hermione squeezed Sirius one last time as she felt him draw away, though he left both of his hands on her shoulders, squeezing her firmly in a way that grounded her at a time where she really needed grounding. She didn't know how he knew that—maybe it was a father thing, maybe it was a magic thing, maybe it was just a Sirius thing, or maybe it was just a giant coincidence. Either way, she would take the surety, comfort, and confidence it offered her. Suddenly, she didn't feel like this was going to be as bad a day as she had feared.

If nothing else, she'd learned she didn't have to hide from Sirius anymore; that she could talk to him without her walls up, that he would listen, that he would be there for her. He'd always wanted to be there for her—even as Hermione he had listened with care to every word the best friend of his godson had said. He had never ridiculed her for any lack of knowledge on her part, or told her to stop annoying her with questions like many adults in her life inevitably did. She was just… Hermione, to him. He and Remus both were unlike any other adult figures in her life. She could rely on them for so much—even the end of the world as she knew it. And, likely, the actual end of the world… unfortunately not a joke.

Hermione broke eye contact with Sirius and glanced shyly at Narcissa Malfoy, who was watching her and Sirius with a guarded expression. But the woman couldn't hide the hint of hope and happiness that was in her eyes and in the way she held herself. Hermione looked back at Sirius, and he nodded at her, then used his hands on her shoulders to turn her around and face Narcissa.

He whispered in her ear, before Narcissa called out one of the finer floo establishments in Diagon Alley, "She may seem cold and brash, but that woman would do anything for her family. And you, Hermione, are now one of hers. As I would protect you with my life, so would she. We may go about it in vastly different ways, but I trust her with you."

He transformed into Padfoot before Hermione could even reply, though she did offer a happy, if tentative, smile to Harry, and Hermione called out the name of the establishment as she and Padfoot—Sirius, Harry's godfather, a Black, and her father —stepped into the green flames and were whisked away.


Author's note: (I edited a couple things in and out over the last weeks, so if something is incongruous or doesn't match something else, please let me know! My brain is a bit of a sieve from meds, but I do try to catch it all through re-reads. This one is unbeta'd for the most part, though my dear Annaelle has seen some of this and even wrote a blooper I will totally share with you soon; it's WolfStar and totally hilarious. Had me in stitches. xD)

This one has a lot of important Feelings in it, and is a bit of a transition, but I can promise some good fun in Diagon in next chapter! Thank you for being patient with me as I feel my way around this story (and work on some podfic projects too). This chapter had some important moments (apologies if I repeated myself in the text, whoops), but I'm looking forward to the fun and chaos of next chapter.

A dog and two witches walk into Diagon Alley... everything becomes a punchline after that, I'd say.

Comments and kudos help me work faster, but I also couldn't have asked for better readers than y'all so far! You've been amazing and supportive and patient and just... you make me happy. Thank you so much for being here!