"Harry!" Hermione whispered to him at breakfast. I should have done this earlier. "Can I talk to you?"

Ron and Harry were discussing quidditch, Ron wishing he could afford a good broom for try-outs before Harry reminded him that no one would be leaving the team until next year. She saw a twinge of disappointment cross his face and wondered if he knew that disappointment was shared by his sister. Though that was so far from important that moment.

"Erm," Harry looked at Ron for a moment. "Sure, Hermione."

The two of them disappeared upstairs, dodging looks where possible. They debated on where they could speak in private.

"I wish we didn't share a room with Percy or the twins," Harry said, combing the corridor with his eyes.

"Can't risk Ginny forgetting something and overhearing either," she admitted.

"Here," he sighed, pointing to a broom cupboard. "I always wind up in a broom cupboard."

Harry and Hermione quickly dived into the dark, cramped cupboard, sitting between haphazardly placed brooms and buckets.

"This is really important," Hermione whispered. "Though if you want to tell Ron, that's your propagative. I thought it was best you heard it yourself first. I think I'd want to process things myself if it were me. If Ginny or the twins question it, I needed to bitch about their mother to someone who wasn't their child."

"What's wrong with Mrs Weasley?"

"I'll make this quick," Hermione ignored the question. "I meant to tell you and Ron yesterday, but the whole fiasco at the petshop-anyway. It's about Sirius Black."

"The escaped prisoner?" Harry asked.

"I think he's after you," Hermione nodded. "They have dementors-"

"I'm sorry, what's a dementor?"

"A magical creature that feeds off of the misery of others, leaching away any trace of happiness," Hermione shuddered remembering her encounters. "At their worse they can suck the very soul from you. I-it's a fate worse than death."

"H-how does that work?" Harry whispered.

"Th-they-erm-" Hermione remembered that day on the lake shore, she wasn't sure that's what would have happened-but she shuddered again."It's not important right now, Harry. But they're guarding the village nearby and the perimeter of the grounds in case. I-I meant to look for the reason, Harry, I really did, and I'm so sorry I didn't get the chance. I had-erm-it doesn't matter. Dad said that Sirius Black was an exceptionally cruel man responsible for the deaths of fifteen people. And that he's escaped prison to come after you."

"What?" Harry breathed. "But why would anyone be after-do you think he has anything to do with Voldemort?"

Hermione's stomach churned and she clasped her hands together, digging her nails into her hands. She wasn't sure, but if Black was after him...that had to be the reason. And then there were the reports her father made her copy two summers ago. Black Sirius, Lupin Remus, and Pettigrew Peter and Potter James. How many reports did I see those four names in that exact order? "I don't know what he wants with you. But I think it's something we have to consider. And...I don't know how to tell you this, Harry, but it-erm-gets worse."

"Worse?" Harry scoffed. "Worse than a mass-murderer coming after me?"

Tell him, how long have I been upset with Dad for not telling me anything about my past? Harry deserves this. "I th-think Black was friends with your dad-at least back when they were kids. I-I'm really sorry."

"What?!" Harry yelled.

"Shit!" Hermione hissed. "We don't-"

Suddenly light came pouring into the cupboard and Hermione's eyes adjusted to see a very cross looking Mrs Weasley staring down at the two of them. The heckles on the back of Hermione's neck rose, and Harry's face drained-though she was certain it was from the connection his father might have shared with the man looking to kill him.

"I cannot believe this is how I find you two!" Mrs Weasley snapped.

"We were just talking, Mrs Weasley," Harry said finding his feet. "Honest."

"In a cupboard?" Mrs Weasley's eyes narrowed.

"I asked him to, Mrs Weasley," Hermione swallowed as she rose. "I-erm- I wanted his advice on this boy back in Japan. You know how-erm-merciless, Ron and the twins can be."

Not the story she had rehearsed in her mind, but she couldn't exactly tell Mrs Weasley that she needed to bitch about Mrs Weasley. She bit her lip and clasped her hands, hoping she bought it.

"Alright, then," she sighed, brushing off Harry's shoulders. "I believe you two. Harry, dear, why don't you go down and join the boys and Ginny."

"Yes, Mrs Weasley," he nodded and was off like a shot.

Mrs Weasley turned to Hermione with a broad smile. "Why don't we go to the room you and Ginny are sharing, dear? I think we should chat."

Hermione wrung her hands nervously following Mrs Weasley to the room. Was she going to scream at her? This was normally where Hermione would expect that. She prepared herself for the barrage of insults but found when Mrs Weasley invited her to sit beside her, she wished it was just that. It seemed Hermione's lack of a mother meant that there was a vacuum that Mrs Weasley could feel herself. Hermione always thought she might have liked a maternal presence, but the whole conversation felt...invasive.

"I remember when I was a girl, there was this boy I very much fancied," Mrs Weasley said. "But before we have a little chat about him, you need to know you can't be hiding in cupboards with boys. It's a safety-"

"Harry would never-"

"I know, dear," Mrs Weasley placed an unwelcome arm around her shoulders. "But people talk, and the damage that can do to a young girl's reputation can attract unwanted attention. Did your father not talk to you about this, dear?"

Unwanted attention? That seems like people should mind their own damn business, not that I should avoid speaking in private with my friends! "It never came up, Mrs Weasley." That is also not your business! She stared at her clasped hands and hoped she would get the lecture over with.

Mrs Weasley sighed. "What I ought to do is write your father so he could tell you about this. It would be what's best for you, but your father would kill Harry, so I'll have this chat with you instead..."

Mrs Weasley spent the better part of an hour telling Hermione about things she already knew. Unlike with McGonagall, Hermione couldn't simply make empty promises to have the conversation with her father later, and the option to say the conversation already happened was something she'd already let slip away. She felt a deep sympathy for Ginny as she knew this conversation was pending if it hadn't already happened. Though she was efficient, Hermione gave her that. Rolling burgeoning feelings (she focused only on feelings toward boys), mood changes and "safe" conduct around boys all into one long, painful conversation, stopping short of sex and birth control. Thank god for that!

"You're what, dear, thirteen? Or you will be shortly?" Mrs Wealsey asked.

"Yes, Mrs Weasley," Hermione nodded stiffly.

"Has your father talked to you about the changes you'll go through, dear?"

Oh, dear god, no! Hermione buried her face in her hands. "That is a conversation we've already had."

Harry, Ron and Hermione proved unable to get a moment alone after that disaster of a conversation. Mrs Weasley was either nearby or Ginny lurked around them, strangely silent. But always around. The twins didn't make life easier either. If Harry wanted to tell Ron, they'd probably have to get away themselves. Hermione thought she might have to tell Harry the details on the train.

Ginny's silence broke when they got ready for bed during the night.

"She means well, you know," Ginny snapped.

"Ginny, I-" Hermione choked clinging to Crookshanks.

Ginny began pacing the length of the room, her wet red hair creating a trail of droplet on the floor. "Harry told me that you needed to complain about my mother? When you two disappeared together, I'll admit it, I was angry. You knew I liked Harry, and I thought you were-but now I think I prefer that!"

Hermione bit her lip. She should have seen this coming. Stupid bitch! You could have made up anything else! "Ginny, look, I'm sorry. I should have known better, I feel the same way you do now when people insult my f-"

"Except Snape deserves it!" Ginny hissed. "Mum just saw a motherless daughter and thought you-she likes you, y'know. Thinks you're sweet. She saw a hurting girl and just wanted to help!"

"I didn't say anything about your mother that people say about my father," Hermione spoke slowly and clasped her hands together. "People, including your brothers, say my father is cruel, evil, and a whole bunch of things I won't get into. He has a temper, I have to grant you that, but he isn't half as bad as everyone says he is. You said you wanted to be friends, do you think I'd be the sort of person you'd want to be friends with if the only person who raised me was a complete monster?"

Ginny stopped pacing and sat on the bed opposite her, anger still palpable, but unlike her older brother, Ginny displayed patience, a willingness to hear her out even when she was angry. "I don't think you're just the people who raised you. But I can't be upset about what you said about Mum and while insulting your father. What is your problem with her?"

Hermione fixed her eyes on her clasped hands, which Crookshanks insisted on head-buntng. It was easier than being honest and making eyecontact. "I just needed to vent. Your mum seems like a nice person, but she's-" Hermione sighed. "She's not-I have boundaries. She might think she's doing well, but she's a stranger to me.I'm sure she means well, Ginny. But I can't-I have a parent. Your mum swooping in the way she is doesn't just feel invasive, but like she's insisting that my dad wasn't good enough. The woman who gave birth to me left before I was even a year old, we're fine as we are. I'm fine."

"You just needed to vent," Ginny said slowly.

Shit! I can't tell you the truth...it's Harry's place... "Yes, I'm sorry. I just-thought maybe Harry would understand, but he doesn't seem as bothered by the attention."

"My brothers and I vent about her all the time for less," Ginny admitted. "It just feels-when someone from the outside-wrong. Like we're the only ones allowed to insult our own family."

"I completely understand that," Hermione smiled. "Believe it or not, I've said shite about Dad that I'd flay others for."

"I believe it," Ginny laughed.

"I assume it's coming along well?" Dumbledore mused.

Severus tapped his want on the edge of the cauldron and watched the purple plumes of steam rise in curving tendrils. "Two weeks brewing this damn thing every month for the rest of the year. I hope you know what you're doing."

"I assure you, Severus, I always do," Dumbledore sighed. "Rest of the year?"

Severus rolled his eyes before throwing in three crushed monkshood petals into the mixture. "Lockhart had a better chance of breaking the little jinx on the position than Lupin. I give it a month before everyone finds out and parents call for his removal."

"You know, Severus," the old man stroked his beard and looked to the ceiling. "There was a time when parents swore I should never be around children, that I was a danger to them simply for who I loved in my youth."

"Grindlewald was a terrorist," he reminded the old man. "Though I suppose you have that under wraps now. But I imagine you're alluding to other boyfriends in your past?"

"Indeed, I am," Dumbledore nodded. "It was very dangerous to out back then, so not many know the names, just that they existed in my school days. Very Scandalous back in the day I assure you. And when I wanted to work with children-"

"I know you're not comparing being gay to being a werewolf!" Severus snapped. "You were never actually a danger. Lupin could very well be a complete saint the other twenty-nine days of the month and it wouldn't matter. He has no control whatsoever when he turns. They're not even comparable, I have no clue why you're trying!"

"Ever observant, Severus," Dumbledore gave an exasperated sigh. "Yes, having a different sexuality is very different than lycanthropy. And I'm sure I needed to have my much younger straight friend point that out."

Friend, that's rich! But I probably should have thought about that. "Your point, then?" he snapped.

"Is that regardless of the reality, the perception by the public are very similar," Dumbledore said. "Parents called for not just my removal, but my blood. It didn't matter in those days that I was accomplished, powerful or good at what I did. There may be nothing wrong with me, whereas Lupin has an actual condition, which can be catastrophic when unattended. But we face very similar treatment, or at one time did. I won't forget that. The fact that you felt the need to bury a part of your daughter's identity should make you sympathetic as well."

Hermione's muggle heritage was nothing compared to Lupin being a werewolf! The person in danger by the parts of Hermione's identity he chose to bury was Hermione herself, not anyone else. Lupin wasn't a saint, but even if he were, his condition-out of his control or not-endangered others. That's the point of the potion, you stupid piece of shit.

"You've agreed to make the potions, and keep your silence," Dumbledore sighed. "I suppose I've already asked plenty from you given your past. Thank you."

Severus's breath caught in his throat as he stared at the older man, something like sincerity and sympathy twinkled in his blue eyes. He was left once again wondering if things might have been different if he'd responded in a way other than lashing out when the old man reached out to him as a child. It was funny, he spent his childhood moving from horrible substitutes for connection when the healthier option was right in front of him. It made him think of Hermione from his dream again. Was she truly on a similar trajectory? He couldn't see her joining the Death Eaters, for many reasons, but he could see that her tenacity to hold on to- what he thought were frankly abusive friendship- coming from such a place.

Does she have a single healthy relationship? he wondered. The girl seemed to have plenty of friends in Japan-but all he had to go from was her word, and he was beginning to accept that if she believed she could get away with lying, she would. Outside of Potter and the Weasleys, he supposed he regularly saw her with Longbottom-who had yet to figure out how easily he was able to manipulate her- Lovegood, who seemed fine- if touched in the head- Sloan- he didn't know enough about them to make a judgment either way, but he was suspicious of the older child- and he trusted O'Malley about as much as he trusted Potter-no, no less. The boy reminded him too much of his younger self to be comfortable to let him anywhere near his little girl.

Okay, she has to have other people in your life than you. Who do you approve of? He didn't. Severus was acutely aware every parent felt so, but Hermione surrounded herself with people who were frankly just not good enough for her. Why she made the choices she did, how she had come to be so desperate for connection that she took it where she could find it, he didn't know. He knew he had-to put it lightly-some work to do. But he had also had made it abundantly and painfully clear to Hermione that she was important, loved and that she mattered. So why did she repeatedly make unhealthy choices when it came to the people she included in her life?

"Oh!" Dumbledore said. "Before I forget, there was something I wanted to talk to Hermione about before the start of term. I couldn't find her at the library, so I imagine she's still confined to your living quarters?"

"Confined?" Severus scoffed. "You make it sound like I imprisoned the poor girl. Though she seemed to think so- one week and I started to worry she might dart out a bloody window (in truth he simply saw her starting to fade)! So, I decided to respond to the Weasleys' invitation."

Dumbledore raised his pointed white eyebrows at him and his mouth hung open in surprise for a moment. "That's likely what's best for her. But I must say, Severus, I'm very surprised you'd send her away after the incident. An experience like that would leave older and better witches traumatized. I assumed you wouldn't want to leave her with strangers. Sending her away from the place it happened was smart though, and she's not exactly with strangers either. Harry and Ron should either prove to be a good support or a welcome distraction."

"I cannot imagine either of those boys-Wait! Potter is with the Weasleys?" he choked. "Of course he fucking is! I'm an idiot! It's Potter Black is after, if he finds them-she's just so-why the hell didn't I consider that?!"

"Erm, Severus," Dumbledore said.

"And she's already been through so much-I don't know if she could actually defend herself. I sent her away because I thought she needed a break from this place-" It was you she needed the break from and you know it..."-If I knew-I-Black was exceptionally cruel before-and if he somehow found out she was my daughter-she's-"

"Fine, Severus," Dumbledore placed a hand on his shoulder. "Calm down. Hermione had been with the Weasleys- where are you going?"

Severus turned back, already at the door. "The potion can be left alone for a few hours. I'm getting my little girl back before something happens to her."

"She's been with the Weasleys for how long now?"

"A week," he spat. "I left her in danger for a week!"

"You don't think she can survive one more day with seven different people looking out for her best interests?"

There it was, that damned knowing twinkle again. And Severus had to admit the damn man was right. In the morning, the Weasleys would take her to the platform. Half a day, there was no real reason he couldn't trust the Weasleys to look after her for that long. The twelve-year-old girl could spend half a day supervised with her friends.

Hermione never really celebrated birthdays, it was just something they didn't do. However, she woke up on her thirteenth birthday expecting to feel different. More adult, she guessed. Perhaps that was dumb, but she did. And she didn't really feel that at all. Is it stupid I'm disappointed? she pondered. It probably is. Damn shoujo manga telling me otherwise.

She was just tired of tip-toing through life like a frightened little girl. Hermione knew it was stupid to expect a bloody number to change that. And she recognised the paradox in her desire to be more grown up, while harbouring a deep suspicion of other grown-ups. All July, she chastised herself, telling herself she was nearly thirteen and had to grow the fuck up, yet just two days ago she ranted about how useless all grown-ups were. She kind of just had to accept she was in a bit of a weird place emotionally.

"Morning, Hermione," Ginny yawned and stretched. "Big day today, huh?"

I never said-how'd you know? "Sorry?"

"Same as every September first," Ginny joked. "We're boarding the train to school today, remember? I thought only I was hopeless when I first woke!"

Hermione rolled her eyes and smirked. "At least I'm out of bed!"

Two nights ago, Ginny had been very vulnerable with her. Something Hermione couldn't really return, despite experiencing the same event. Part of her felt she owed Ginny some vulnerability. A bigger part of her told her opening up about her side of things would only burden her while she tried to process what she needed to process. A small part of her that Hermione didn't want to acknowledge had selfish reasons to keep it to herself. What if Ginny judged her for not being able to deal with something much less horrible than her actual trauma.

Ginny had talked about it in less detail a couple of times during the two days, but often opted to talk about much easier topics. Hermione was happy to be a shoulder to cry on, but she was happier to be a sounding board as Ginny talked about her anxieties for the new year, or reassure her when she talked about Harry. In truth, Hermione felt a bit like a spy dropping bits of intel for Ginny to use when she gained the confidence. Hermione meanwhile successfully avoiding talking about herself or her worries.

"Tell me," Ginny said brushing her long red hair. "That you'll keep talking to me once we're at school. It's just-this was nice to have someone other than my brothers to talk to."

"Of course I will," Hermione scoffed rolling her eyes. "We're friends, aren't we?"

Ginny's face lit up and a gleam formed in her brown eyes. "Oh, you have no clue how relieved I am to hear that! Colin's nice and all, and Annie-the Gryffindor girl in my year- did start talking to me, but we don't have much in common."

Hermione forced a smile again. She really did want to be friends with Ginny, and felt that if the younger girl could put aside her doubts she could too. If she didn't feel safe talking about herself, she could still be there for her.

"I'll be around whenever you need me," Hermione promised.