Hermione stared at the portrait of Walburga Black with barely concealed irritation, her gloomy autumn morning could not have been worse. In recent years, when Madam Snape visited the Black Mansion more often than her apartment, she even managed to establish something akin to pleasant companionship with Walburga. The house now was full of numerous children, descendants of the Weasley-Potter family, and as it is known from the history of purebloods, someone was always a relative of someone in the tenth generation. In a word, the most venerable Walburga became a Grand Maman and unexpectedly acquired grandchildren.
Hermione chuckled at the irony of fate. Even portraits had managed to change their outlook. There was nothing more to argue about in the post-war world, where everything ended in a completely different way than they once dreamed of. At times, Walburga even gave helpful advice in exchange for the latest gossip from the life of Magical Britain. So today, when Hermione listlessly leafed through the volume on karmic debts and Family magic, Walburga crossed her arms over her chest and stared expectantly at the witch before her.
"You're doing everything wrong, girl. And you're looking in the wrong place."
"What would you have me do, praytell? Find the ghost of Nicholas Flamel and make him tell me the secret of the philosopher's stone, in order to create the Time-Turner afterward?" Hermione bit back in annoyance. She was fed up with Slytherin's way of expressing their thoughts.
"Show me what you are reading. The Family magic, of course, what else could it be?"
"I think that's complete rubbish," Granger grumbled, insulting Walburga with her ignorance to no end.
"I am not going to lecture you now, my efforts will still be lost until you understand everything yourself, but answer me this question: how many times over the past years have you directly or indirectly saved the lives of Harry, Draco, Ron, your husband, and my ungrateful son?"
Hermione paused in surprise, counting in her head. All of them had to cover each other's backs, either on the days of battles or during field practice. Walburga smiled contentedly.
"I see you are on the right track. And now remember that according to the magical perspective, everything is interconnected. And all this nonsense about the superiority of purebloods is just that - nonsense, which was cleverly manipulated first by Voldemort, then by the much disrespected Dumbledore. And which we all bought into."
"What then do we owe to all that genocide that we experienced through your fault?" Hermione hissed through her gritted teeth.
"Hush, girl. Our mutual ignorance. Originally, purebloods were supposed to protect the weaker ones with their magic, that is, muggle-borns and squibs, because behind us there are much higher powers than I can explain in a few hours. Our magic is older than you can imagine, and it is still guided by those laws that are written about in religious books: "an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth." Get yours back. Save your family, either in blood or in spirit. Think about it."
"Why don't they teach this at Hogwarts?" Hermione muttered under her breath.
"Because idiots are easier to manipulate, which is exactly what Voldemort or Dumbledore wanted. But you will think about reforms in the education system later, after you fix all the mess that my son and your husband made."
Hermione raised her eyebrows.
"What are you talking about now?"
Walburga sighed, settled herself more comfortably in her chair, and looked expectantly at the frame in which Snape hid in the shade of the trees. He pretended not to notice. Lady Black just shook her head.
"Wizards call it randomness, which is not random, and Muggles call it the butterfly effect, and to be honest, I like the latter definition much more. A random word, gesture, or glance changes the picture of the world. What would have happened, for example, if Harry had met Draco first, and not Ron? What would have happened if Sirius managed to catch the traitor Pettigrew and kill him? What would have happened if Severus met on the night he heard the prophecy, someone who would distract him from his doomed fate?"
"It's all probability lines," Hermione waved her hand.
"Perhaps, but in magic, everything happens for a reason, and if someone owes you once, you can repay the debt. Or follow your desires. The same Mirror of Erised, in fact, is also a portal of opportunity, and not just a black artifact that drives everyone crazy who is lucky enough to meet it on their way."
"You can't go back in time," Hermione sighed. "Besides, who knows, if things had turned out differently, we might have lost the war."
Walburga snorted unladylike.
"This again brings us back to the question of your blatant ignorance: you are trying to eliminate the effect; when instead you need to remove the very cause. You failed to save Severus only because the potion didn't work and he lost too much blood. But what would have happened if he had simply not gone to meet the Dark Lord when he was summoned? I don't think Voldemort would have condescended to roam the battlefield and run himself into someone's crazy Avada."
Hermione frowned. Naturally, such a scenario of events did not occur to her. It was terribly simple. And that only made it worse. Besides, everyone already knew which side Severus really was on, in fact, he senselessly gave his life in exchange for nonsense.
"I see that you have learned your lesson," Walburga nodded.
"I got it, but what's the point?"
"Read about portals and visit the Veil, and maybe you will be able to find the Mirror of Erised, hidden by Dumbledore in the corridors of Hogwarts. A lot of interesting things are waiting for you."
"Why are you helping me?"
"Take away your distrust, Hermione, you weren't the only one who lost those who were dear to you in all this madness. I lost my entire family and ended up pointlessly losing my life. Sirius liked to act against me, not because he wanted to get into Gryffindor or something like that, but because he loved freedom too much. Freedom and his motorcycle, given to him by his uncle Alphard. He always had a bad influence on him. He butted heads with us and sold his life, the life of Regulus, and even the life of the Potters for next to nothing. And all because he did not honor the laws of magic and neglected his family. And this is the story for another time."
Hermione listened and listened to this confusing story of Walburga and something in her words made her think. But what if she was right, and they were all really deeply mistaken, entangled in imposed ideals? And then there was no one next to them who would be able to beat some sense into their heads.
She had long ago come to terms with the idea that if Harry had a strong and wise adult with him, history might have gone differently. If someone were a little bolder or a little more stubborn...
"All right, have it your way, I'll go to the Department of Mysteries. I don't know why yet, but since you insist..."
"You know, girl, you know why very well. You, too, miss your husband, as I miss Master Orion. And you are just as bad in this new life."
Hermione shrugged and went into the kitchen for some sandwiches and a cup of tea, while Walburga looked inquiringly at a neighboring painting.
"Thanks, Lady Black."
"You owe me, Master Snape, after we meet on the other side of the Mirror of Erised. And you know better than anyone that debts must be repaid."
Snape nodded.
"May it be so. I hope that Maya will be able to sort things out."
"She has always been a remarkable witch. Has she not?"