"I'll side along you if that's alright, lass?" Moody checked watching his daughter apprehensively.
She nodded, her arms wrapped around her waist. "Can we…arrange for a wand soon?" She asked haltingly. He froze as he realised he hadn't considered it and cursed himself for his lack of thought.
"Of course," he agreed, "Tomorrow? You Aunt Dorea will want to take you shopping soon but perhaps we can pick you up a few things?"
Hermione nodded again, "I'll get a job soon, pay you back," she promised
"You'll do no such thing! The money is yours." he protested, reaching to take her arm, willing himself not to react to her flinch. Taking a deep breath, he twisted, pulling them from the hospital and into Falaichte. "Welcome home lass," he murmured, as Hermione let him go, her eyes roaming the hall.
"Master is home!" a small elf cried appearing in front of them before she froze. "And….Oh! Oh! Lollys little Miss! Oh! Yous here!"
Hermione's eyes blew wide when Lolly began sobbing, clutching at her trousers.
"She was your nanny elf," Alastor explained awkwardly, "And your mothers before that. She…well. I'm sure you can tell she's pleased to see you."
"Ah yes," Hermione muttered, awkwardly hugging the elf's bony shoulders.
Lolly straightened eventually, wiping her eyes on the hem of her pillowcase. "Lolly's Little Miss comes with Lolly. Lolly will show you yous room."
"Oh. I…" Hermione shot a look at her father, he nodded minutely. "Alright." she agreed uncertainly.
"I'll come with you," he offered, "Perhaps a tour is in order?"
Hermione bit back a sigh; he looked as uncomfortable as she felt, "Of course," she murmured.
Alastor watched as his daughter twirled in the library with a look of awe on her face. It was the most animated he'd seen her so far. Things were…difficult, neither of them sure how to act around the other. It made his heart ache for Ailsa, she'd have at least had suggestions for where to start. "You can read whatever you want," he offered softly.
"I can?" she checked.
He shrugged uncomfortably. "It's your library too."
"Oh," she breathed as if that thought hadn't occurred to her.
"Your ah…Aunt Minerva mentioned duelling practice?" he voiced hesitantly, still not sure how he felt about it. Hadn't she suffered enough? He wasn't sure he could bring himself to hex her; he saw her lying in that hospital bed every time he let his thoughts run uncontrolled for too long. It still made him want to sob. Or wrap her in a permanent cushioning charm and every protective ward he could come up with.
"Oh, yes. I don't want to lose my skills," she replied, utterly unaware of how hard he was fighting not to refuse.
Alastor hummed, having already been warned by Minerva to keep his mouth shut on the subject of his daughter's involvement in this war, at least for just now. "Right. Tomorrow then?" he offered instead of what he really wanted to say, continuing after her nod of agreement, "We had...thoughts on some of those people on your list. How do you feel about tutors?"
"Hermione frowned, "What?"
"Severus Snape is a potions prodigy by all accounts, James Potter is good at Charms, Sirius Transfiguration, Remus Defence, Lily Evans is rather good at History of magic and Augusta Longbottom's boy is good at herbology."
Hermione hummed, "And Runes and Arithmancy?"
"Runes and arithmancy," he repeated faintly. "I ah…I don't know. I'll find out."
"Thanks," she murmured.
"Hermione…I…I know this has to be strange but I hope you'll allow me to get to know you. It's…I know that the little girl I remember is gone but you're here and you're still her. Just…grown up."
She hummed, trying to tamp down the guilt she felt at the slightly heartbroken look on his face. "I'll try," she murmured. "It's…it's…everyone's gone. And I…these people they're ghosts. You're a ghost. I know that I have a chance to change everything so people will live but they won't be mine. I don't know where I fit here. I…I have..no one and…."
"You have me, lass," he interrupted softly as she became more distressed, desperately wanting to hug her but unsure if it would be welcomed. "And you have your Aunt Minerva. And if you'll let them, an Aunt Dorea and Uncle Charlus. And I know it's not the same. I know we can't replace those people but…maybe we can help a little. Is there anyone else you want to see?"
"The Weasleys," she replied promptly, startling him.
"Ok. I…you knew them well?"
"Yes. Molly and Arthur were like second parents," she murmured. "Ron…their youngest boy…the boy who will be their youngest boy, he was one of my best friends."
"Ah yes, you mentioned that there'll be more of them?" Moody replied, sounding horrified, "Poor Arthur."
Hermione snorted, "The twins will be born in April, and then Ron and Gin."
"They end up with four more?" Alastor gaped, having not quite understood when she had listed their names previously.
"Yes." she smiled slightly.
"Merlin. Poor Arthur."
She snorted, "Ah he was always quite happy about it." she shrugged.
"But,...seven?"
"Yup." she smiled, enjoying the gobsmacked look on his face.
Hermione clung to him tightly as they walked down Diagon Alley, it was utterly surreal to see it untouched by war. On top of that, the jarring loss of Weasleys Wizard Wheezes hit her hard.
"Olivanders first," Alastor commanded, gently guiding her into the shop.
"Ah Alastor Moody, ash and dragon heartstring, eleven inches and rigid."
Alastor smiled, "Garrick."
"And who might this be?" Olivander peered over the top of his glasses, scrutinising Hermione, his eyes going slightly wide in his surprise as he took her in.
"Ah. My daughter," Alastor replied softly "We'd appreciate your discretion."
"But of course," Olivander murmured his eyes on Hermione for several more uncomfortable seconds. "Well then Miss Moody, let us begin," he commanded eventually.
Hermione startled as the tape measure rose and began measuring her, Olivander leaving it to begin pulling boxes from the shelves behind them, "Try this one," he instructed, snatching it back before she'd raised her arm. "Nope. This one?"
And so it continued through several more wands until he brought out an older looking box handing it to her. Her magic lit up the shop. "I've never sold an Aspen wand, Miss Moody," Olivander spoke into the silence, "It is said they wait on the correct time to reveal themselves to an owner, did you know that?" She shook her head gazing down at the wand in her hand, it almost looked like bone, she thought with a shiver. "Oh yes, Aspen wands are associated with great duellists, but they are rare. It is often said those who carry an Aspen wand are destined to change the world as we know it. I will be watching you with interest, Miss Moody, for I expect we shall see great things."
She shuddered once she was out of the shop, "Do you think he practises being creepy?" she muttered.
"Probably," Moody snorted, startling a laugh out of her, allowing some of her uneasiness to disperse. "Now, Madam Malkins? Your Aunt Dorea will want to take you shopping but Merlin knows you need something to tide you over until then."
She bit back a grimace, "If I must," she muttered.
He arched a brow mockingly, "Sudden urge to run around in your pants, lass?"
"Ew no! I just don't like shopping."
"She'll be so disappointed," Alastor lamented with a slight twitch of his lips she recognised as hidden amusement, "She's been desperate for a girl to dress up."
"Ah. Shame," she murmured insincerely as she followed him into the shop.
Madam Malkin barely refrained from verbally lamenting her scrawniness. Her face though did the talking for her.
"I'll leave a little growing room, dear." she voiced pointedly, glaring at Alastor as if it were his fault. "Now. How many?"
"Seven."
"Seven!" Hermione gasped. "That's…no.
"Yes. Until you're up for your aunt to take you shopping you need something," he insisted.
She growled audibly, making him laugh. "The pink then dear." Madam Malkin cut in holding up dusky pink fabric to her face, "And…green I think, oh and the blue. Navy, definitely." Hermione tried to keep up as fabrics whirled around her, touching her skin, several discounted instantly with cries of horror from the other witch. In the end, she had nine sat waiting patiently for instruction.
"I'd suggest picking from them." She instructed.
"Day robes in each colour please," Alastor requested, cutting over Hermione.
"What but…"
He arched a brow. "Pants?"
She glowered back. "Undergarments are available through the back, dear." Madam Malkin interjected with a small smirk, deliberately misinterpreting his point.
Alastor bit back a laugh at the look on his daughter's face, too giddy that she was there to consider heeding the warning her face indicated he should. Without another word, she spun on her heels and disappeared into the back of the shop.
Madam Malkin snickered, "She seems rather….cross." she hedged.
Alastor shrugged, choosing the easiest explanation he could. "She'll settle down. She's not entirely comfortable with me paying for all of this."
The witch hummed, clearly wanting to ask questions but deciding against it. "I'll go and check on her. Will you be needing anything else?"
Alastor paused, "A winter cloak and shoes."
She nodded sharply, disappearing into the back of the shop.
"Right lass, let's see what you've got," Alastor instructed apprehensively as he faced his daughter in the duelling room after their shopping expedition. He was reluctantly impressed. She relied more on defence than offence but he could work with that. She was quick and reactionary, it was clear she had very little formal training but the skill was there at least.
"Stop!" he called after ten minutes, smiling to take the sting out of his command. His Auror trainees would be having him checked for compulsions and polyjuice if they could see him. "Right lass, what you're going to do is this…."
Hermione groaned at the end of the two hours her father had kept her in the duelling room. "I don't remember anyone else being that brutal."
"You'd like me to go easy on you?" he asked with a scoff.
"No," she groaned. "I've just realised how unfit I am."
He snorted, "You're recovering, give yourself a chance. However, running for at least an hour daily will help to build up stamina. You can work up to it. I expect you to be eating more too. Don't think I haven't noticed that you eat like a bird."
"It's hard," she muttered, "We had almost no food for months."
He nodded, trying not to react, "Well, we'll start slowly then. But I expect you to attempt to finish what's put in front of you. I'll warn the elves to make smaller portions for a while but no more skipping meals. Getting lost inside a book is no excuse."
"Alright," she agreed, looking unimpressed.
"Good now, go and have a shower, I'll meet you in the library."
Biting back an eye roll at his tone, Hermione pulled her exhausted body in the direction of the nearest bathroom, glad that she'd heeded her Great-Aunt's words. Alastor Moody was a force to be reckoned with, hopefully once he was done with her, so would she be. Mentally running though the ways she could convince him to stop holding back with her, Hermione allowed the scalding water to soothe her tired muscles. She could do this. She could make life better for everyone, regardless of what it cost her.
"Now what did you get up to?" Minerva asked, looking at her great-niece across the desk. She looked clean at least, if not in the slightest bit healthy.
"I know what I am. But haven't made the transformation," she admitted.
Minerva hummed, "Right then, let's start there. Settle into your visualisations and make sure you're comfortable. And then we'll add the mandrake."
Hermione nodded, getting comfortable as she slipped into the familiar state of meditation. Allowing her senses to take over as her mind supplied four legs and a tail.
"Still the same," she murmured.
"Wonderful. Mandrake then." Hermione hummed, pulling a face as she stuck the mandrake leaf down with a sticking charm. Minerva snorted at her grimace of distaste. "It's only a month.
"A month with a rotting leaf in my mouth," she mumbled, forcing the words to form properly around the unfamiliar feeling.
"Ah, it'll be worth it when you're a…." Minerva trailed off looking at her expectantly.
"Otter, apparently. It's my Patronus."
"Ah. That…surprises me."
"Me too," Hermione admitted.
"How are you settling in dear?" Minerva checked as the conversation lulled.
Hermione sighed, "Alright. It's…strange. I miss..home. I miss my friends, my family and…Auror Moody…Alastor is trying. I'm struggling to combine the two."
"The man you knew and the man he is now?"
"Yes," she murmured.
"I can't imagine how difficult that is." Minerva sympathised, "But will you give him a chance?"
"I'm trying, it's…it sometimes just hits me that it's all different. And it hurts."
"Oh Hermione, of course, it does! It's barely been two weeks! You have to grieve. Have you met anyone your age yet?"
She shook her head, "I've not really left the house. Alastor and I have been trying to get to know each other and ah…practising duelling."
Minerva hid a grin, "How is that going?"
She shrugged, "Well," she smirked, "He was surprised, at least. Although he's hard to please."
Minerva snorted. "Defence against the dark arts is duelling today…perhaps we should send you along."
She snorted, "What an introduction," she replied wryly.
"Come along, Hermione, let's try it." Minerva commanded.
"What? No!"
"You're not scared are you?" Minerva arched a brow.
Despite knowing she was being baited, Hermione bristled. "No."
"Well, come along then. Professor Scrimgeour knows your father."
"Rufus Scrimgeour?" she asked, horrified.
"You know him?"
"Something like that," she murmured.
"Ah. Well. Perhaps he got worse with age." Minerva consoled, reading between the lines.
Rolling her eyes, Hermione followed her from the room, walking down the familiar halls, catching glimpses of ghosts as she went, all the while wondering if she had lost what was left of her sanity.
"Ah Professor Scrimgeour, I just came to observe. I brought my niece, Hermione."
Several pairs of eyes looked at her with interest at that statement. "Minnie! I didn't know you had a niece, where have you been hiding her?" a boy too pretty to be real called. With a jolt, Hermione realised it was Sirius. Merlin no wonder he had been a cocky arse when she knew him, the boy was beautiful.
"Far away from you Mr Black," Minerva replied pointedly as half the class snickered. Hermione bit back a smile.
"Ah Minnie, you don't mean that!"
"Indeed I do Mr Black."
Scrimgeour cleared his throat, looking at Hermione with interest laced worry. The girl looked like she'd break if someone blew too hard. "Will you be remaining for the duelling part of the lesson?"
"Ah yes. I think we will," Minerva answered for her.
"And Miss…."
Minerva looked at him shrewdly, "Moody"
"Miss Moody….he repeated faintly. "As in…"
"Of course," Minerva smirked.
"Mother of Merlin," he cursed quietly as he looked at her with renewed interest. "And your father Miss Moody, has he taught you to duel?"
"Yes," she allowed the smirk to travel across her face as several people in the room made the connection.
"You're up then, Miss Moody." She arched a brow. "With Mr….Mr Lupin I think."
She hummed as the class moved, clearly used to this. She wondered why it hadn't been part of the curriculum in her time; Merlin knew they could have used it.
Remus stood awkwardly in the space left when Scrimgeour moved the desks against the wall. He offered her a timid smile which she returned, trying not to give in to how painful it was to see him looking so young, well and…alive as she forced her mind to clear and her instincts to take over.
Remus' eyes widened as she began firing hexes and he realised she wasn't going to go easy on him. A small smirk appeared on his face as he began fighting back in earnest. The entire classroom was silent as they duelled, several of them watching with undisguised interest. She had Remus's wand in her hand in ten minutes, silently apologising as she acknowledged the advantage she had over him having duelled his older self over the course of several summers. His style had remained remarkably similar to the boy in front of her.
He bowed, arching a brow slightly mockingly, "Well done, Miss Moody."
Copying, she replied, "Mr Lupin."
"Interesting, Miss Moody." Scrimgeour smirked, before turning to the class, "Now, tell me what they did well, what they did badly."
"She dodged, rather than blocking," Lily murmured.
Scrimgeour nodded, "She did. What else?"
"She was quick," a Slytherin she didn't recognise commented, "Kept sending spells, Lupin wasn't able to catch up."
"Lupin was quicker with his shield, he used less energy." someone else called.
Scrimgeour hummed, "Interesting points. How about….Mr Snape?" he suggested. Hermione's eyebrows rose sharply, "He has a vastly different duelling style." he offered in response to her surprised look.
Hermione watched cautiously as Severus Snape appeared to size her up, knowing that this one wouldn't be so easy. And it wasn't. Snape was quick and brutal and she forced herself not to get lost in battle instincts as they flared in response to his spell work, attempting to remember that in this time, steeped in the dark arts though he might be, he wasn't her Snape. His years as a spy had made the man deadly and this Snape was nowhere fucking close. Not yet.
Centring herself, she fired off several curses, the severing charm that missed making him raise his eyebrows as he finally stopped looking cocky and started taking her seriously. Her eyes narrowed as she dodged a knee reversal hex and he smirked, something close to genuine amusement in his eyes. Arse. Deciding to change tactics, she drew a shield around herself, before casting a silent disillusionment.
"Interesting," she heard him murmur just as one of the textbooks smacked him on the back of his head and she caught him with a bat bogey that would have made Ginny proud. Accioing his wand in his confusion, Hermione cancelled the disillusionment but remained on her guard. In her time, Snape had been more than proficient in wandless magic and she wasn't taking any chances. She was glad she had when he snarled a Finite and sent a wandless stunner at her.
Dodging, she raised her shield again and conjured her canaries. He looked confused and wary. Good. Grinning, she sent them to him, stunning him when he had to turn his attention away from her to fight them off.
Scrimgeour vanished her birds looking at her calculatingly. "Interesting spells Miss Moody." he inclined his head, reviving Snape who scowled at her, before he turned to the class, "Thoughts?"
"She used…. non-violent spells as weapons." a boy who reminded her painfully of Neville muttered sounding confused.
"That she did, Mr Longbottom. Tell me why that's an advantage?"
"I wasn't expecting them," Snape muttered.
Scrimgeour grinned. "Indeed, Mr Snape. Indeed."
"I will be next time," he growled, looking at her pointedly. She grinned back at him, making his scowl deepen.
Scrimgeour snorted, "Alright, pair up, let's show Miss Moody you lot aren't entirely useless. Maybe see if you can use some spells we don't expect during the duel. Get creative! Potter, Black, not with each other."
Hermione wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry when she spotted the dejected look on Sirius's face, the boy next to him making her heart constrict painfully as she saw Harry, even knowing it wasn't really him.
"Interesting tactics, Miss Moody," Scrimgeour commented as he came to stand beside her and Minerva to watch the duelling pairs, his lanky frame leaning against the wall with calculated nonchalance, "Not tactics I'm familiar with your father using. Where did you say you went to school?"
"I didn't, Auror Scrimegeor," she replied pointedly, making the man laugh.
"Oh, I think I'm going to like you, Miss Moody. Tell me, will you be joining us for the remainder of this year?"
She shook her head, "No I'm just visiting Aunt Minerva."
"Pity." he murmured, "I do hope I can entice you to come for at least a few duelling lessons, your style is not something they've never seen before and I would like them to have experience of as many styles as possible."
She cocked her head as she watched Peter Pettigrew trip over his own feet trying to dodge a hex from James. "I'll consider it," she murmured, fighting the urge to reach for her own wand to ensure the rat stayed down. Murdering him in the middle of class was probably not the smartest of moves, despite how much she wished she could.
"Good, good." he grinned, "Out of curiosity, are you intending to follow in your father's footsteps?"
"Not a chance," she muttered, not noticing that several people were paying rapt attention. "I like my body parts actually attached to my body."
He snorted, waggling his fingers, "I've still got all of mine."
"For how long, Auror Scrimgeour?" she shot back, making Minerva snort.
"Come on! Move quicker!" Alastor barked as Hermione hauled herself through the assault course he'd set up for her. Apparently, it was used to train new recruits. Privately she wondered if her father was trying to murder her.
"Time," he yelled as she collapsed onto the grass, gasping. "You shaved off four seconds,"
he noted with approval. She couldn't speak through her gasping. "Now I'll meet you in the library for presents."
"Presents?" she gasped.
"It's your birthday is it not, lass?" Alastor retorted pointedly.
"Its…fuck," she cursed, attempting to pesuade her body to move. "I hadnt realised," she murmured.
A look she couldnt decipher passed over Alastors face, but he thankfully kept the thoughts to himspelf, "Well luckily for you I was paying attention."
"Dont think I can move," she mumbled, giving up on attempting anything other than lying on the grass.
Alastor gave a huff of laughter, "Lolly!"
"Master wants Lolly?"
"Run a bath and add the muscle relaxant please. Once its done, deposit Hermione in it. She stubbornly pushed past her limits and is paying for it."
Hermione watched with interest as an amused look crossed the elfs face before she disappeared. Fucking wonderful, she consoled herself with the fact that they were obviously well treated.
An hour later Hemione found herself in the library, still sore but at least able to move. Alastor was waiting on her.
"This was you with your mother," he murmured, sitting down next to her on the sofa and handing her a photograph. She looked down at the woman who she had to admit she greatly resembled and felt regret for the first time since he had arrived here. She wished she had known this woman who was looking at her like she was the centre of the world. A sudden sharp pang of loss for the mother she could actually remember hit her but she forced it down. This was not the place to fall apart. Alastor was trying and the photo albums were intriguing. She didn't want to give him a reason to remove them.
"Who's that?" she asked, pointing at a picture of a little boy who reminded her of Harry hoisting a curly-headed toddler into his arms.
"Alex." Alastor replied, "He absolutely adored you, despite the age gap. If ever we lost you we always knew you were with him. He took you on your first broom flight when you were just over a year old. Your mother was livid but it was the most adorable thing I'd ever seen. He told anyone who would listen that you were his baby sister. Or often, just his. You used to play with him and James."
"Oh. Potter genes are strong," she muttered.
"Aye," he agreed with amusement, "they all look the damn same. Charlus and Fleamont could be clones of each other for all the differences in them."
"Fleamont is…James' dad?"
"That he is lass," Alastor agreed, pointing at a man in one of the pictures. She couldn't tell him apart from his brother. "Charlus' younger brother."
"Ah, I see. Well at last there are very few surprises about what they'll look like as they get older."
Alastor snorted, "I'll remind Alex of that next time I see him."
"You see him often?" she asked in surprise. She'd been given the overwhelming impression that Alastor had cut himself off from everyone else entirely.
"He has friends in the Aurory." Alastor shrugged, "He got back in touch a few years ago. Refused to take no for an answer, stubborn arse."
Hermione smiled, unable to picture someone who out-stubborned Alastor Moody but deciding she'd quite like to see it. Perhaps one day, she couldn't avoid everyone else forever.
"This is for you," Alastor interrupted her musings, handing her a wrapped box.
Feeling self conscious, Hermione unwrapped it, opening the box to reveal a necklace, with a flat disc of a pendant depicting a wand crossed with a sword, the words Vi Et Animo arching over them, tiny sapphires outlining the edge.
"It's not the prettiest," Alastor admitted, "But it's been passed down the female line for centuries. It's got several protections on it so if you'd consent to wear it, I'd be grateful."
Sighing, Hermione nodded, eyeing the necklace. He was right, it wasn't the prettiest but he had a look on his face she couldn't bring herself to ignore. Holding the box out to him, she moved her hair out of the way, allowing him to clasp the necklace around her neck.
"Thank you," he breathed, his body releasing some tension in his relief. "Now, onto your actual gift." he handed her another box, larger this time.
"Oh," she murmured, running her hand over the books inside. "Wizarding customs, Creative curses and hexes for witches, Advanced arithmancy and its practical applications and Rune warding for beginners," she murmured. "Curses and hexes specifically for witches?"
Alastor shrugged, "The saleswitch at Flourish and Blotts recommended it. It has spells specifically to deal with…persistent and unwanted men."
"Ah." she hummed, hiding a smile. "Thank you."
He nodded, allowing himself to enjoy the fact that she was here, finally, as he watched her curl up on the sofa, one of her new books open in her hands.