DISCLAIMER. None of the characters used are a creation of mine. They belong solely to JK Rowling.

It had been easy to ignore her yearmates with the Christmas break having begun just two days after the incident.

She needn't have since not everyone had noticed the uncanny nature to her boggart's words. But she knew that a certain group of Maruaders would not let her go that easy. She was quite certain that Sirius and James' supposed visit after Christmas day was a hoax to interrogate her.

The manor looked just the same as it had when she had left at the beginning of the summer. The eleves had already decorated the entire place in the colours of the holiday season.

Hermione sat in the parlour room warming her hands over the cackling fire in the ornately designed fireplace.

Papa had been furiously writing a letter to a business associate despite feeling particularly downtrodden that day.

Hermione looked at him intently and wondered why he wouldn't just rest. His health had begun to deteriorate once again.

'Papa, why don't you come sit with me for a bit?'

Papa looked startled, as if he had forgotten she had been there at all. He put a hand across his forehead. His breathing had begun to become shallow and he wheezed every time that he did.

Hermione rushed to her feet and called for Blinky, 'Blinky, carry Papa to his room immediately.'

Blinky had helped Papa in his nightclothes and had prepared a warm broth for the old man.

Hermione held his hand as he drifted off to sleep. She felt herself tear up over the prospect of losing him. His health was always so very unstable that there was never any knowing. He was already well into his hundreds but wizards could live much much longer.

She had suffered enough. Merlin, not him, too.

Hermione, for the next three days, had spent most of her time with Papa, reading the newspaper to him and helping him with small tasks.

When Rab had arrived, he had fussed over his grandfather and begged him to step down from his post at the Lestrange Corporation and various other business stands he worked at.

'And who would follow in my footsteps? I can't let that foolish boy take over the finances. He would put it to use for that vile creature.'

Rab threaded his fingers in his hair, 'Papa, I can come back home and help you. You need only ask.'

Papa shook his head furiously. 'No, what you're doing now is your dream and I shan't take it away from you. Don't worry about this old man, Rab. I'm well enough.'

Rab shared a look with Hermione who kept silent. He said, 'You will work from home from now. I shan't hear a complaint in this regard. I don't care how much you fuss about needing fresh air, you are not to leave your bed for any reason. I shall change the wards to allow some of your most trusted men who can help manage the estate.'

Papa looked pained. 'Be a prisoner in my own house?'

Hermione whispered, 'Would you rather risk your life and leave us alone in this world?'

Papa looked at her sharply and his face softened. He reached out his hand to her which she immediately held in hers. He dropped a feather like kiss against her knuckles.

'Rab, you must teach your sister of our ways. Seeing as I am too.. frail, the task is now yours.'

Rab nodded and the two siblings left. Rab settled into the divan in the hall and his head fell in his hands.

'He must change the will.'

Hermione silently agreed.

'He won't make it. If Rodolphus becomes the Head..'

Hermione stepped closer to him and rubber his shoulders, leaning into his warmth.

'Even if he tried to you know he couldn't. Old families are bound with impenetrable magic.'

There was a reason Sirius had been disowned and yet had stayed the heir.

*

The next day Rab had begun to teach her. They covered the basics of how the Dark Arts differed from the Light.

'Now, Hermione you can use your wand inside the house. The Trace is a joke. It merely senses the vague perimeter within which magic has taken place. It can never pjnpoint the exact location and even if it could, in pure blood houses it's an increasingly difficult task to determine who cast the spell.'

So Hermione's theory had been right.

'Coupled with the presence of extremely powerful wizards and witches in the household along with the unbreakable wards and the blood magic within the very walls of the Manor, it is nearly impossible for anybody to realise that an underage child is performing magic.'

Hermione nodded.

Rab then went on to teach her some very basic jinxes that Hermione personally wouldn't consider all that dark herself.

The spell Intermissia could break all the bones inside the body an individual at a mere flick of the hand. Casting a Spiritus confractus could sneak inside the chest of a person and break away the rhythmic breaths he's taking, prolonging his death by fifteen very painful minutes filled with an extreme sensation of suffocation. Praemius would explode the body of a man in less than a second and end his life then and there.

Rab told her there were no countercurses to these spells for they hadn't been used since at least four centuries. The Malfoy family had been the original casters and had then shared them with the rest of the Pureblood society most of whom then practiced them on.. muggles.

Hermione had been thoroughly repulsed and considered giving up on the task. To be wielding such vile magic ..

She reminded herself of the greyness of things. She would never use such a spell on a helpless man or woman, magic or not. Instead she would use them to end those who did.

As they progressed the spells got considerably darker. A particular spell they had been learning the day before Christmas was aimed at turning the blood inside a person into mush thereby killing a man from the inside out, draining him of his very life source.

Hermione had proved to be quite adept at the Dark Arts which had both prided and concerned Rab. Papa, however had been elated. He didn't seem to notice the tender age at which Hermione had calmly mastered magic that sometimes was lost even to the wisest wizards.

Rab had moved all his belongings back to the manor despite the many protests put up by Papa. But Rab had had none of it. He had decided he would manage the hassle of travelling from England to Wales every day very gladly if it meant he could keep an eye on his beloved grandfather.

*

The family spent Christmas in Papa's room, neither grandchild wishing to cause him any further discomfort.

Despite the gloomy air that had settled in the house, Papa's spirits couldn't be dampened the next day when Sirius and James arrived.

The two boys had been struck when they saw their favourite grandfather riddled into bed looking weaker than they had ever seen him.

Sirius sat on the window sill beside Hermione who was staring out at the snow laden grounds looking wistfully at her willow.

He whispered in her ear, 'How long?'

Hermione replied just as quietly, 'He isn't in his deathbed, Sirius. At least not yet. He's not sick but his body's becoming incredibly weak. The healers say he has a few years. Five at most.'

Her voice broke and she looked away.

Rab had entered the room just then and herded the children out.

'You lot go enjoy yourselves.' He had said firmly.

Sirius and James tried their best to draw Hermione out but they didn't realise she had fallen back to a place they could never reach.

Hermione hadn't been this haunted by the idea of death in a long time now. She had been safe here in this time thanks to the man who now lay weakened beyond measure. She hadn't felt the creeping fear that slowly took a permanent place in your heart when death walked rampage on the streets.

James grabbed her hand and said, 'Hey, 'Mi, look. Just for a day, let's forget everything, yeah?'

She looked at him from underneath her lashes and tried to smile. 'Promise you won't ask me about the boggart then?'

He looked conflicted but nodded nonetheless. Her happiness mattered more than satiating his curiosity.

She nodded her head in resolution and said, 'Okay. But James, it wasn't you. I could never be scared of you.'

Sirius watched curiously as James visibly deflated. It seemed James had had a sudden realisation. An epiphany. 'Harry! That's what you called me that day in the Hospital Wing.'

'He was from your nightmares, wasn't he?' Sirius muttered. 'You always cried out his name.'

Hermione looked at him sharply. She began fidgeting with her fingers and looked extremely uncomfortable. She looked away from either of the boys.

Sirius had accurately judged the shift in her mood and touched her lightly.

'Hey, 'Mi. Look at this.'

He removed his jacket to reveal the sweater he was wearing underneath. A scarlet and gold sweater with the letter S sewed in. A similar scarf around his neck.

He winked at her and barked out laughing as she blushed.

Hermione felt herself tear up and as a couple of tears escaped her eyes she got up and flung her arms around him.

'I thought you'd throw them away. You were always so mad at me those first two years.'

'Never. They mean the world to me.' He proceeded to pull out the cap she had knit him last Christmas and put it on his head even though it looked nothing like one.

James laughed at the sight of his friend and looked on at the two in contentment, relieved now that Hermione was finally beginning to loosen up and also quite unburdened knowing it hadn't been him. He had been deeply unsettled having seen his likelihood speak in ways so wantonly cruel that it made his skin crawl.

He jumped into the air. 'I know what we should do! Let's braid Sirius' hair!'

Hermione giggled as Sirius grumbled and acquiesced only to make her smile when she didn't have much going on to smile for.

Before the boys left in the evening they visited Papa one last time with the promise of coming back to see him soon enough.

After James had left, Sirius stepped into the fireplace and looked deep into Hermione's eyes.

'You know I will never judge you, right? You can come to me. Whenever you're ready, I want you to come to me. Let me help you. Please.'

With that, Sirius flooed away.

*

Rab had been drilling Hermione. She had barely enough time to visit her hidden library these days but was adamant on spending some time doing her research there.

She had a plan in mind and it required some skills Hermione didn't possess. She had also been gathering supplies for polujuice potion from the Manor's stores.

Late that night, over the dinner table, the two siblings were laughing and singing when Papa had successfully managed the walk to the dining room from his chambers all by himself.

Rab commented, 'It's a good thing you've already been trained in Occlumency. I don't think I could keep up with you practicing that.'

Hermione didn't think he could. He would have crumbled at the sight of what lay inside her head.

Papa grunted, 'But Hermione never did learn Legilimency very well.'

Hermione complained, 'I'm passable at it, Papa.' She didn't want anybody snooping in her mind. 'I don't want to further practice it. I believe Occlumency is enough protection as it is.'

The two men looked unsure.

Before Hermione had left for King's Cross with Rab she had run up to Papa's room and jumped into his bed.

Slightly surprised, Papa recollected himself and enveloped the girl in his arms.

'Papa, I love you. Please, please look after yourself. I don't want you to exert yourself. And write to me. Everyday!'

Papa chortled, 'I know your brother will keep you informed. He won't be letting me out of here anyway so you shouldn't have to worry, my sweet child.'

At the train station, Rab squeezed her hand lightly before helping her up.

A look of shared misery passed between the duo.

Severus came upon the two and their gaze drifted away from each other.

Rab smirked at Severus, 'Snape, keeping well?'

Severus nodded his head, 'I am. How about you, Lestrange?'

'Quite well, thank you. I hope you have a good term ahead of you.'

Hermione looked one last time at the retreating back of her brother.

Brother.

What a beautiful word.