"Are you alright, Hagrid?" Hermione asked placing a comforting hand on his arm.

The mammoth man did not look alright. His typically ruddy face was even more flush, tears pooled in his black eyes and he neglected to remove bits of forest from his bushy black hair and beard. "I dunno, Hermione,"he sobbed. "If Malfoy writes his father, I don't know what he'll demand! I migh' be sacked an' yer father reckons he might demand th-th-they ex-" he gulped and broke into sobs.

"Don't listen that git," Ron rolled his eyes. "You know he's always trying to make people as miserable as he is!"

"He was trying to prepare him for the worst case scenario, Ron," Hermione sighed. "Though I doubt he put it delicately."

Harry looked at his feet, his face paled and his green eyes shifted from side to side. "But it was all Malfoy's fault! They wouldn't kill Buckbeak because Malfoy's a prat, would they?"

Hermione bit her lip and Hagrid burst in to tears at Harry's question. If Lucius Malfoy demanded it, it would happen. That was how it worked. Ron looked grim, and Harry quickly realised the hold the Malfoys had over British wizards was all but complete. He got a self-righteous look in his eye and he rose from his chair slamming the tea down.

"Malfoy shouldn't be able to do that!" he yelled. "There has to be something you can do, something we can do, something Dumbledore can do!"

"Harry," Hagrid sniffed. "It doesn' work like tha'! No one can figh' with the .Malfoys, an' Dumbledore will be lucky to keep me on. No one will take my side, no one anyone would listen ter anyway."

A sudden brain wave came over Hermione. If she reached as many people as possible, enough nobodies might make demands that couldn't be ignored. She grabbed her bag and dug out scrap parchment, her quill and ink. "People believe Malfoy's lies because he has wealth and power, but if we get our side of the story to enough people first, then it will look like Malfoy's saving face. If that doesn't work, I can look into legal defences. But for now let's try this. In order, I want each of you to tell me exactly what happened."

The week passed by in much the same hectic energy of the first day. When Hermione wasn't dodging her father's watchful eye, researching hippogriff behaviour or Black, she was doing copious amount of homework, helping Harry, Ron and Neville with theirs, interviewing the other Gryffindors (she needed a Slytherin from the class to balance it), she was chasing after Crookshanks, who still held a deep suspicion for Scabbers. She knew she should look into that as well, but she had so much on her plate already, she constantly felt as though she were on the verge of collapse.

When the letters from Hiro, Kaori and Saiyaka came on Friday she prayed for good news. She desperately needed it, but just hearing from Hiro at all made her heart leap for joy. Despite their decision to date, Hermione lived in fear of Hiro changing his mind, that he'd find someone local, that seeing each other thirty days out of the year wouldn't be good enough for him, that she was good enough. His letters dispelled those anxieties.

Mi-chan!

I miss you so much! I keep thinking about that night in the bamboo forest with you, it was absolutely wonderful. I'm counting the days till next July!-or something else needy! fufu (Hermione couldn't help but chuckle at that, but she too was preoccupied with her return to Japan when she had the mental space. The thoughts even crept up on her when she didn't) ! I Things have been good since we came back to school. Classes are getting more difficult, but that was to be expected. I'm not a fan of Potions, it's my one blunder class. And Kaori's best, funny how siblings can be so different, right (Saiyaka was the closest thing Hermione had to a sister, so she didn't really relate)? I'll get it soon. I just have to pay more attention. I'm Acing Yokai Studies and History. And I've finally finished that series of yours! How could Sugarquills leave Jason in the maze and not knowing if Arabella is dead? Ugh! I blame you for my sudden fascination with Greek mythology! Miyuki and I have been exchanging theories on how it ends-and Miyuki has written endings for it! Okay, okay, I might have as well fufu!

Hermione could easily picture the two doing that. They both always loved a good story, so it wasn't a stretch. Strange to imagine taking a book's characters and plot and writing their own ending, but it wasn't like Hermione didn't have her own ideas over the past seven years. Hermione thought she remembered Luna mentioning doing something similar when they were discussing the books last year. Maybe it wasn't as strange as Hermione thought.

Speaking of mythology and stories, there's a Japanese Wizarding fairy tale I don't think you've heard before, but it's my favourite. During the Kamakura period there was a beautiful witch from across the sea. The locals called her Umionna, but she never gave a name to travellers and villagers that came to her shrine for healing. Umionna lived alone, in a house close to the water. Word of Umionna's beauty spread across Japan, and soon wealthy suitors sent out samurai to ask her hand. Every time the samurai would return to his Daimio with a refusal. Eventually, as these stories always unfold, the emperor decided he would marry her and not take no for an answer. He sent out his best Samurai Takimaru no Yasha, who was also a wizard. While travelling, Takimaru fished for his meal from the ocean. When he caught a ningyo instead of a fish, instead of collecting a handsome reward (ningyo are known to eat men), he threw her back into the ocean (Every man in fairy tales around the world is unrealistically strong, I have no idea why!). Umionna saw this act of mercy and fell in love with the Samurai. When Takimaru fell for Umionna in return, it was not just for her beauty, but her kindness to a village child she healed.

Takimaru never returned to the emperor. The two lived happily for a moon cycle before the emperor and his army began their march west. Word spread that he was making his way to claim Umionna himself. Both lovers new that the village they lived by, the one Umionna guarded and treated for years would be at risk. But the emperor was cruel and Umionna didn't want to be his wife. So, she devised a plan. He could not make demands for something outside the his reign, so she would return to the sea (and you thought it was just British tales that had things come out of left feild!). Takimaru was distraught, but ultimately agreed to the decision. The lovers fashioned a braided cord from the strands of the invisible red string of fate so that could stretch between them, connect them no matter where they were. When the emperor came for Umionna, she walked into the ocean in full view of him. For her sacrifice the village was saved. Takimaru spent the rest of his life on the run, but never grieving Umionna, for no matter how far apart they were, they were always connected.

I'm hoping for a better ending for our story (Hermione's heart leapt to her throat and she felt warmth rise to her cheeks), but I'm overly sentimental, ask Kaori! Over the summer I visited a shrine and bought cords made by a shrine maiden. I liked the idea of being connected, no matter how far apart. You don't have to wear it, but I am wearing mine. This letter's getting a bit long.

I really do miss you.

Love,

Hiro-kun

Hermione reread the letter, hardly believing what she'd just read. Not only did he miss her as much as she missed him, but in his mind he likened them to the tragic lovers of his favourite fairytale and 'wished for a better ending'. Hiro was as committed to the idea of them as she was. To the point of giving her a braided cord. Wasn't that a big deal? Hermione removed the long red cord from the envelope, gingerly, torn between being a stupid girl about it and letting her feeling wash over her like a wave, or letting that voice in her head remind her that she was in no way good enough for someone like Hiro. Fuck it, I had a shitty week, Harry and Ron stood me up at the library Monday, Buckbeak is in peril, my cat thinks one of my best friend's rat is 'wrong', whatever that means, and I've been running circles not to get caught by Dad with the time-tuner. Let me have this, voice!

"Earth to Hermione?" Ron waved a hand in front of her face.

"Sorry, Ron," she said tucking the letter into her bag. "I must have-"

"You re-read that letter like five times," Ron knit his eyebrows and narrowed his blue eyes. "I'd ask if it were bad news if it wasn't for that creepy smile on your face. It was like you were on the bloody moon."

"I wish I was," she muttered.

"No wonder you and Looney are friends," Ron groaned.

"Don't call her that!" Hermione snapped before she inhaled deeply to calm herself. "What is it?"

"Never mind," he groaned. "Happy you're still responsive, I suppose. Letter from Hiro?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed. "Yes, actually. And I have no clue why you hate him so much. You've never fucking met him! Why the hell am I not allowed to have friends outside of you two, Ron? You don't even like me that much!"

"That's not true," Ron mumbled, looking down at his mostly empty plate, his ears turning scarlet.

"Well, you have a funny way of showing it," Hermione hissed. Could I not have that one bloody moment, Ron?

"I really wish you two would stop," Harry whispered.

Why does he always cut me off to say that if we're both the problem? "Whatever," she whispered after inhaling once more and clasping her hands. "I have to go. Harry, I have some findings on Black to share with you. I'll see you two after classes." Are you going to apologize for snapping? No, Ron should. Or maybe I- "I'll help you with that Gorgon essay after, Ron."

"Erm, thanks?" he blinked at her in confusion.

Hermione stalked up to the Ravenclaw table, trying to put it from her mind. She saw Luna eating alone by the end of the table, re-reading Hades Hound, completely absorbed. Hermione tapped her shoulder with a satisfied smirk. "Hi, Luna!"

"H-Hermione!" Luna nearly leapt before soothing her hair over her shoulder and reassuming a calm appearance. "I guess I know how that feels now, don't I?"

"I guess you do," Hermione laughed. "Hey, Luna-erm-I really hate to ask this, but id there any chance I-could-erm-get your help on something?"

"You know I'd do anything for you," Luna shrugged with a dreamy smile.

Friendship with you is a little intense... Hermione wondered if Luna would be so dedicated if she had any other friends. She made a point of hanging out with Luna more often, especially after that conversation about her mother, and wrote her weekly over the summer, but she felt guilty about asking her for anything. More so then when she asked others. Hermione was Luna's only point of social connection, and any time she needed something out of Luna she felt like she had an unfair advantage. Then Luna said things like that, and Hermione knew on some level she was right.

"Erm," Hermione laughed nervously. "Y-you don't have to, Luna. I wouldn't be upset if you didn't."

"I know!" she smiled linking her arm in hers. "Hermione, I want to."

Hermione felt a flush rise to her cheeks and looked down at her shoes. Don't ask why, don't put her on the spot like that. "Thank you, Luna."

"Let's go!" Luna beamed, nearly dragging Mimi out the doors so they could chat.

"L-Luna!" Hermione sputtered trying to keep pace.

She followed Luna onto the school grounds by the lake. Luna had no idea that was where it happened, so Hermione couldn't hold it against her, but still took her arm back in order to clasp her hands together and dig her nails into her flesh. She would have to get used to it. It was just a lake, and the dementor didn't finish the job, she walked away intact…because you were rescued. No, shut up! You're thirteen, grow the fuck up! You're fine, it's a lake, the dementor did nothing and you're fine. You've no right to be upset…

"Are you okay, Hermione?" she asked blinking her silver eyes.

"Erm," she sighed forcing a smile. "It's nothing. So, I was wondering, would your dad be open to publishing an anonymous expose? Like the one I wrote on Lockhart, only this time it'd be about a covered-up situation rather than an individual? And it won't be exclusive, because my next question is-erm-how do you feel about resurrecting the Herald?"

"I'd love to resurrect the Herald, Hermione!" Luna exclaimed. "And I'm pretty sure I can convince Daddy to take your story. I mean, there's this piece on Haognigglies, but I think I can get him to push it to next week for you."

"L-Luna," Hermione blundered. "Th-that's not-erm-necessary, I don't want- but it is important. If you can't I understand. I'm grateful you're asking."

"What're friends for?" she smiled.

Severus realised he did not set himself up for the conversation he intended to have with Draco Malfoy after the class. Instead he let the boy weasel his way out of work for the class by assigning a petulant Weasley his prep work. He had very briefly considered handing it to Potter as well, but Weasley had managed to do the impossible. Earn more of his ire than Potter.

He supposed he had another reason to be grateful Hermione no longer had classes with them, she would have volunteered to do it herself while still trying to mouth or crudely sign instructions to prevent Longbottom from screwing up his potion.

Which he of course did in her absence.

He looked down at the orange bubbling solution and scored the boy a zero on what was supposed to be an acid green Shrinking Solution. If properly made it did more than shrink the subject, but depending on the subject and the dose it could take a life form to it's earliest life stages. Useful in plant cultivation during famine, continually renewing the same plant to a sapling, but an admittedly despicable part of his brain wondered if other parents looked at it and fantasised about a do-over in raising their children. Not that he would do it, of course. There were just so many moments he wished he'd handled differently.

"Orange, Longbottom?" he sneered. "Why am I not surprised?"

The round faced little boy shrank behind in his chair and his eyes scanned the room, perhaps forgetting that the one person to come to his rescue was no longer there. The boy seemed legitimately terrified, a part of him wondered if he were pulling a Pettigrew and using his ample lack of talent and pathetic appearance to garner sympathy. That may have worked on his daughter, who fell apart at the sight of washed up strays, but it wouldn't work on him.

"The instructions are on the board, Longbottom," he said. "You can read, can't you?"

Sniggering filled the room, not just from the Slytherins in the room, but his own housemates as well. Perhaps that would prevent further blunders in his classroom. If it didn't, he didn't give a damn. He just wanted the boy to scrape an A in his Potions OWL to avoid scrutiny, so he never had to see him again.

"Two years of this, Longbottom. And not once have you gotten a single potion correct on your own, hell, you haven't even with a lab partner half the time. I'm beginning to think you're not properly motivated. You have a pet correct? A toad I believe."

The boy's eyes grew to a size that nearly rivalled Hermione's and his face drained. Longbottom knew exactly where he was going with this. Everyone else did too judging by the silence that overtook the room.

"Make it again, and keep in mind the price of failure this time!"

Hypocrite. If one of your colleagues had threatened the same with your daughter's pet you'd be livid... No, he didn't care. He wasn't going to do it. The threat would motivate the lazy and typically unmotivated little idiot. What damage could that possibly do? Are you really asking yourself that? Lupin barely came within three metres of you and you still tell yourself you were traumatised...because I was! I could have died or worse. Fine, and what about your mother? Your father was a bastard and you've mostly moved on, but your mother...you still think about things she said, don't you? And your precious little girl? You recognise the damage done there... I'm just the boy's teacher, it's different. If he takes this shit personally it's his own damn fault.

"You should be done now, Weasley," said Severus. "We'll see how it faired after we test Longbottom's second attempt-I'm loathe to call it anything else."

I'm so fucking shocked! Severus looked down to see Longbottom's potion was purple this time. Even with proper motivation, he still couldn't brew a damn potion. He really hoped he wouldn't muck it up this time. He didn't want to go back on it, but he didn't want to kill the boy's pet either. If for no other reason than knowing that Hermione would never forgive him. Wasn't the child supposed to be the one worried about being on thin ice? Well, you've fucked up one too many times for that to be the case haven't you?

"I'm not in the habit of making empty threats, Longbottom," he said.

Longbottom shrank and whimpered.

"Sadly," he sighed. "Rules made before my appointment sadly forbid from doing such. Some bleeding heart administrator's assertion it would inflict 'emotional trauma'. That never would have flown when I was a student, I assure you. So, I'll take this opportunity instead to remind you that if you cannot scrape a passing grade in this class you will not be able to enter fourth year. Ignore my instructions at your own peril, you stupid boy."

The class let out to his great relief with no further incident. Now he just had one more difficult thing address. She wanted to handle it herself, that's why she lied to you...Fuck it, the boy'll listen to me, and she'll never know. If she does, she'll thank me when she's older.

"A word, Draco?" he said.

"Of course, sir," Malfoy smiled as if he was expecting praise. "It's too bad you couldn't poison Longbottom's stupid toad, it'd serve him right."

What a spiteful little shit you are, Draco. "Indeed," he sighed. How to do this without you writing home...I wish you had Hermione's stubborn independence. He looked at the small boy, so arrogant, and yet he pitied the poor thing. "I have a problem, Draco," he admitted folding his arms over his chest. "You see, you're perhaps one of my best students, and I understand your father has considerable reach within the school. But for two years now, I've kept my ear to the ground-"

The boy's smile faded.

"-and I do not care for much of what I've been hearing, Draco. Not at all. I've let it go on far too long, I'm afraid. My daughter never came to me, I knew she wanted to handle it herself. But she is too kind, too forgiving. I assure you, I am neither of these things. So let me make one thing crystal clear. I do not give a damn what you get into with Potter and his little side-kick, or that idiot Longbottom, but Hermione is my daughter," he lifted the boy's face by the chin. "I suggest you leave her alone. I've given you considerable advantages over the years, do not make me regret doing so."

The boy left his classroom for the first time with the distinct look of fear in his eyes. How much did it hurt to know he was no longer immune to the consequences of his actions. To know that he was merely a mortal after all. Draco Malfoy now knew Severus defended him, gave him allowances he didn't others. And he also now knew he could take it all away on his whim.

Nee-chan,

I know you've probably already heard the news, but I really wanted to tell you! Kiki and Sunni managed to unionise the house-elves! Well, some of them anyway, there's only about ten in the union now, with growing student, and even some staff support! So far, their demands are to receive offerings of sake and honey weekly (I'm so anthro-centric, I asked why they don't demand money! Got an earful from Kiki), they have every full moon off. Again, not sure why they only want once a month, or why it took us so long to adhere to such simple demands! I think having the headmasters' grandchildren in their corner helped.

Speaking of full moons, I have excellent news! Remember the Osaka werewolf case? Well, she might be able to regain custody of her child! The research into Wolfsbane potions passed the initial testing phase! If she can go a year on this new potion without wolfing out, she'll have her freedom and custody! This is huge! I'm researching into it for NHWS and planning on writing an article about it in the Mercury! This could completely change how people perceive werewolves. It's no longer a fate where you can't have connection, or are doomed to pass it on! I'm so excited!

Can't wait to hear back from you!

Saiyaka!

A potion to treat werewolves? That was great! Hermione thought about the implications for those with lycanthropy across the globe. She knew they weren't well treated and faced discrimination similar to muggle-borns and intelligent non-humans suchas elves and goblins. Many viewed lycanthropy as a fate worse than death. She didn't know anyone that was infected, but she felt for them all the same.

"Damn it, Hermione!" Ron yelled shooing Crookshanks off his lap. "Your father threatens to kill Neville's pet and your cat actually tries to kill mine? Your stupid bloody cat went after Scabbers again!"

Hermione rolled her eyes rising from her chair to pick Crookshanks up, staring into his yellow eyes, which slowly blinked at her. She didn't buy that he wasn't doing anything wrong, the Scabbers is wrong and familiar still made no god damn sense to Hermione.

"Sorry! I'll take him to the girls' dormitory," she sighed. "I'll be back to help you with what you have."

Hermione carried the giant squirming cat upstairs and made her way to the third-year girls' dorm (Hermione still roomed with girls her age rather than the year she was placed in, and she wasn't a fan) and placed Crookshanks on her bed putting a finger in his face, which he sniffed rather than responded to. Crookshanks either didn't know she was upset, or, like everyone else, didn't care. It was fine. It was fine.

"I know that you think there's something wrong with Ron's stupid rat," she hissed.

Crookshanks stopped squirming and stared at her as if pleading with her to listen, but once again, when Hermione tried she only got the vague idea that he knew the rat from a long time ago, and that something wasn't right about him. Neither of those things were actionable. And she wasn't very well going to Ron and saying 'my cat thinks your rat's vaguely wrong. You should let him eat him'. Fuck, they didn't listen to Hermione when she was right, let alone when she was uttering nonsense.

"I don't fucking care, Crookshanks," she softened her voice. "My friendship with Ron is tenuous enough as is, please. I don't need your help destroying our friendship. He's already angry with me. Don't make it worse, I'm begging you."

Crookshanks narrowed his eyes, stretched and curled up into a little cushion. Hermione got the message loud and clear, Fine, have it your way. She would have gleaned that even without the residual effects of the damn curse.

She returned to the common room to find Ron and Harry were joined by Neville, who she hadn't seen all day. She couldn't blame him for avoiding him after what Harry told her about their Potions class in the afternoon. She would have to talk to her father about it, threatening to kill Neville's pet, implying he couldn't read...and assigning Ron Malfoy's prep work, when he knew his arm was healed wasn't acceptable either, but her concern lied with Neville.

"Erm," Hermione bit her lip. "Hi, Neville."

"Erm," Neville looked down. "Hi, Hermione."

"I am so sorry, Neville," she said quietly. "Are you-erm- okay?"

Neville nodded and shrugged. "I'll be okay. He's right anyway, I'm doomed to failure."

Hermione's blood boiled. How fucking dare he say that? What the hell was wrong with him? Neville was harmless and her father...I don't know how to fix this. Every time I think things might get better between us, he does something like this. Dad, please, I'm so, so tired of running damage control. I'll talk to him about it tomorrow.

"You're not doomed for failure, Neville," she said. "I know what failure looks like, and you're not it, trust me. I'm so, so sorry that he-I-erm-I'll do what I can to fix things. I really am sorry."

"You've mentioned," Neville attempted a sheepish smile, but still looked truly miserable.

"Hermione," Harry knit his eyebrows. "You do know you're not responsible for your dad's behaviour, don't you?"

"One week and you already seem ready to collapse," Severus observed.

An exhausted Hermione nervously wrung her hands as he ushered her into a chair. Despite her shifting her weight from foot to foot, Hermione remained standing and took to clasping her hands, digging her nails into her flesh. Severus observed her uneasy movements, and noted her purple-ringed eyes glued to the floor, her pale face pensive. This is a record, I don't think she'd ever been so weary in the first week. She seems troubled. Looking her over, there was no new information as to the reason behind the fatigue and nervous behaviour.

"Whatever you're about to say, I suggest you say it, Hermione," he sighed lifting her face. "What did you do, little girl?"

"Erm," she collected herself, looking a bit hurt before restabilising eye-contact. "Actually, it's about what you've done, Dad."

What I've done? The nerve of this girl, to think I raised-I'll hear her out. "Oh?" he raised an eyebrow. "And what is it I'm supposed to have done? I trust you aren't simply taking whatever those boys tell you about me without verifying it first?"

"Did you threaten to kill Neville's pet during class yesterday?" Hermione drew herself to her full height, all one-point-four metres of her, and dug her nails deeper into her hands.

"I always thought one day you'd out grow that nasty habit, love," he sighed taking her hands and examining them. "I'm astounded you've yet to do any real damage to-oh, what's this?" he indicated the braided red cord fastened around her wrist. Hermione wasn't one for trinkets.

"You haven't answered my answer, Dad," Hermione changed her approach from commanding-which did not work on him-to imploring, her large brown eyes staring into his own and holding his hands.

In that moment he didn't see a defiant pre-teen girl who favoured her friends over her father, but instead a tiny child desperate to believe what she heard wasn't true. That there was some misunderstanding he could clear up. Severus started to wonder how much his child let herself live in denial because it was easier. She was clever, exceptionally so. He was starting to get the impression that her denial was a courtesy she often extended to him. He truly missed the days where it was just the two of them.

"I wasn't going to do it, love," he sighed. "If the boy wishes to avoid such call-outs in the future he should be working harder, not hiding behind the professor in question's daughter. I swear those boys only see you for what you can do for them."

Hermione pulled away and narrowed her eyes. "I'm sorry?"

This shouldn't be a surprise, love. They treat you like rubbish, open your damn eyes before it's too late. "Hermione, love, we both know those boys are all taking advantage of your naivete," he then sighed. "I blame myself, I perhaps should have considered socialising you when you were younger. But you just weren't ready. Two years have passed since you've been integrated with your peers, and you're still over-eager for anything that remotely seems like approval. Potter saved you from the chamber, fine. I can't pretend he didn't make sacrifices for you. But I can ask you if you honestly feel like they respect you. Do they even listen to you?"

Hermione's gaze fell to a far corner of the room. Perhaps it was something she considered herself. Hermione's mind was a chaotic thing, he did not need magic to know that. Since she was a child, she was silent, but he doubted there was a thought that crossed her mind that she didn't dismantle and reconstruct several times. His daughter was a goddamn paradox. She was so pensive, she had to understand everything down to the most minute detail. She'd torment herself with her past actions, and doubted she even let a cruel thought pass without convincing herself she was a terrible person. Yet, after all that analysis and reflection, if she could find a modicum of comfort in a lie she told herself, she'd cling to it. Though her silence told him some of those lies were getting harder for her to believe.

"That shouldn't be a question you need to think on, love," he sighed setting his hand on her head. "I only say this because you were clearly uncomfortable with this arrangement and I doubt they cared. I only want what's best for you."

"Arrangement?" Hermione breathed. "I came to this decision myself."

"After seeing how distraught that boy was, no doubt," he scoffed before patting her head. "You're a child, I shouldn't be surprised your judgement is so lacking. That, my dear, is precisely why it is so important to listen to me. I do know what's best, after all."

Wednesday evening came that week and Hermione barely scraped the surface of her research on Black. She found out why Harry and Ron bailed on her in the library Monday, and the last few days. Oliver Wood had become obsessed with the damn quidditch cup, and taking up every bit of Harry's free time. Ron probably just didn't want to be alone with her after she snapped at him Friday afternoon. Between writing her article, the hippogriff research needed, and the madness that was her academic life with the time turner, she barely had time to sleep, and already fell into her, admittedly unhealthy, habit of skipping meals to finish her work. She barely spoke to Neville, Ginny or Luna or anyone outside of classes. And Hermione and her father had come to the unspoken agreement to pretend she never confronted him about threatening to kill Trevor. Thank god, because Ron was always eager to argue with her about Crookshanks. She hated to admit it, but her father was right, they didn't respect her. But he didn't either. It was fine, Hermione knew she had to earn respect, if she kept trying, if she could manage to do something right, she might get it. If she didn't earn it, she didn't deserve it and...that was...fine.

"So, if the gorgon makes eye-contact with their victims they petrify them?" Neville asked mulling over his DADA essay.

"Yeah," she smiled. "And remember, Gorgon petrification is like cockatrice petrification, it turns their victims to stone."

Neville's eyes widened and he made a sudden sound, snapping his fingers. "Like Jason's mum in Thirteen Tasks?"

"I imagine they did plenty of research into Greek monsters before writing," Hermione shrugged, happy to see the connections being made. "See, Neville, you're not stupid. A lot of people wouldn't consider it. You're getting it, you just need more confidence that's all."

Neville's face flushed pink and he looked at his twiddling thumbs. "Erm, you don't need to say that, Hermione," he ventured eye contact. "I know I'm rubbish."

"You are not rubbish, Neville," Hermione sighed brushing her hand over his head. "I wish you were kinder to yourself. You'd never be friends with anyone who spoke to you the way you speak to yourself," Hermione then thought of how he was treated by everyone. "Okay, maybe you would. But you shouldn't. Neville, you're smarter than you think, and unlike those arses, you're a decent human being."

Neville was easily twice Hermione's size, but he was so gentle. Neville was her friend but Hermione also felt responsible for him, maybe it was because he was her father's favourite victim and she had to make amends, or maybe it was because she identified with him. She knew what it was like to never be enough, to be almost universally scorned. Mistreated at worst and tolerated at best by even those she called friend. They were done all done fucking with him.

"Neville," she said. "Don't let them treat you like that. There are depths to you those idiots could never imagine. You are done being their punching bag, putting up with their bullshit. Who the hell do they think they are? To demand so much from you and give you nothing but mockery in return! How dare they take advantage of your patience, use your ideas and information then conveniently forget your contributions to solving the damn thing! And how fucking dare they make fun of you when you've suffered irreparable damage?! And they still expect your bloody help?"

"H-Hermione?" Neville gulped.

"You're not rubbish, Neville!" Hermione proclaimed. "You are a goddamn hurricane and they are going to regret the way they've treated you for fucking years!"

"Erm," Neville bit his lip. "I feel like that stopped being about me a while ago...Are you okay?"

"I'm fine!" Hermione leapt from her chair and straightened her posture. She clasped her hands together as she inhaled deeply trying to collect herself. "It's nothing."

"Okay," Neville gulped. "I-if you need t-time, I can do it myself. Thanks for the help though."

See, this is what happens when you lose control! You should have known better, you stupid piece of shit! "Sorry!" she said quickly. "I didn't-I-erm. So, the essay's looking good. I'd-"

"Hey, Hermione," Harry said entering the common room with Ron. "Lupin said you were supposed to meet him in his office?"

"Oh!" she clapped her hand to her forehead. "I can't believe I forgot! Thanks, Harry. I'll help you later, Neville, promise!"

"I am so sorry, Professor," Hermione gasped.

Lupin blinked at her as he let her into his office. She looked around to see various tanks, one with a Grindylow, the other with a Kappa, who looked wrong slumbering in the tank, grasping a half-eaten cucumber. Honestly, she didn't much care for any of the imprisoned creatures he kept. They were remarkably well cared for, especially in comparison to the pixies Lockhart kept, but it still, saddened her.

"Each of them were injured as infants," Lupin explained, perhaps taking in her expression. "They weren't making it in the wild. They'll be returning to a magical creature reserve after a couple lessons or so."

Hermione bit her lip and clasped her hands together. She couldn't afford to piss him off if she wanted to earn his trust. Adults were like fairies, fickle and easy to enrage. She took in a deep breath and nodded.

"Do you know what a boggart is, Hermione?" Lupin asked before dragging a large trunk onto his desk.

Hermione nodded. "A creature that transforms into whatever its observer most fears. It feeds on fear and if unchecked for long periods of time, can cause madness. A lot of haunted house claims from muggles wind up being a boggart that tormented them for years. Though it can only appear before one person at a time. Or it'll try to do more than one form at once. Which can lead to it looking funny. Laughter hurts it."

"Right you are, Hermione," he smiled. "And the spell to use on it?"

"Ridikulus," she answered. Don't be so damn proud, you knew that since before first year.

"I see you've done the reading," he nodded. "Now, you said you thought your worst fear was embarrassing. After seeing your classmates' boggarts, I want to assure you I've seen plenty of fears they'd find embarrassing. I don't judge them, and no matter what it is for you, I won't judge you. Are you ready?"

Hermione took a deep breath. She just had to settle on one damn fear, let the thing get a read on her and take shape. She shouldn't have been so nervous about it, no one could use it against her. No one but him, and she tried to get a read on him. "I'm ready," she said, her wand ready.

Lupin opened the trunk and an invisible form left it with a whoosh before assuming the form of Ginny in a pink dressing gown, clutching Riddle's diary in one hand and pointing her own wand at her with the other. She smirked evilly and spoke.

"You're mental, broken, a bad person. You're useless, no wonder Daddy finds you insufferable." she purred. "I'll kill you when he comes for you and leave Ginny just in time for the little blood traitor to see the last breath leave your frail, little body. I'll take the last of her strength and Harry Potter will see what real power is!"

Hermione wasn't prepared to hear those words again. She thought she was, but she was beginning to feel like those were all true. She lifted her wand and tried to speak the incantation but the form shifted to Neville, looking down at her terrified. That she wasn't at all prepared for.

"You've lost it," he said in a small shaky voice. "You are just like him..cruel. Did you forget you petrified me? I thought we were friends."

The form shifted yet again. This time it was Hiro backing away from her repulsed, his hazel eyes narrowed. "You're not worth the trouble."

Ron's form emerged from Hiro's, his ears bright red and grimacing. "You never were. You're a nightmare, a mental, spiteful bitch!"

Harry appeared next with a bandage over his right eye. "I reckon Ron's right and that you've got some kind of brain damage."

Then a taller, older bushy haired woman who looked so much like Hermione appeared. "I wouldn't be surprised. You came out wrong. Spineless, sick, pathetic, insufferable child. I should have never carried you to term!"

She doesn't exist, Hermione had been used to this imagined woman's tirades and was once more collected enough to cast the spell when the boggart took a form she had not prepared in the time she realised it could rapidly adjust its form. Not Kaori, Saiyaka, not any of her bullies, but an even taller version of her father looming over her with an expression of profound disappointment.

"You can't even take care of a boggart?" he sighed lifting her face. "You disappoint me, Hermione. But that's not exactly new, now is it? You spend so much time with your little nose in a book and yet you can never manage to do anything right. And you have the nerve to be angry with me? Who raised you when certainly no one else would. What is wrong with you? You're pathetic, you stupid little girl. I wish I had left you in that alley where I found you! It would have saved me the trouble. Whoever your biological parents are, they had the right bloody idea!"

Not real, just cast the damn spell. "Rid-"

"Silence, you stupid little girl!" he-it- commanded.

Hermione swallowed feeling the tears pool in her eyes. She knew it wasn't real, but everything she heard, it was true. She knew for a while, the boggart just dragged it out of her. And she couldn't help but listen to his command.

"Pathetic," he sneered. "You suspected the rumours were true for quite a number of years now. You just didn't want to believe both your parents abandoned you, did you? And I was fool enough to take you in. You were nothing before then, I just wish I knew that you'd still be nothing when you grew. All you'll ever be to me is a disappointment, a failure. Are you honestly crying? How did any child I raised become so weak?"

"Ridikulous!"

The form of her father darted away but Hermione was confronted with Luna, her expression serious. "I don't think I'm surprised you don't trust anyone, Hermione. I mean, nobody trusts you, and there's a very good reason for that-"

A half-cat Hermione with blood on her claws appeared before her. "All I ever do is hurt people. But at least like this I'm useful. No wonder they all leave..."

Hermione tried the spell again, but she was just faced with herself and the knowledge that it was all true. Since the summer she had tried so hard to live like the others, tried to lie to herself, that she could ever be something worthwhile. That he rage at Harry, Ron and her father was somehow justified. That she had the right to be happy. She still hadn't earned anyone's respect or trust. She was too much of a fuck up for anyone to want her. And you thought they were being unfair to you?

Hermione realised her spell was failing because she couldn't conjure an image that made her laugh. All she could think about were the words she'd just heard. It simply just kept shifting between the forms, with the addition of a Black girl with bushy brown hair and a Korean-Japanese boy with eyes just like Hermione. The couple from the mirror of Erised, Hermione would suspect her birth parents if they didn't look sixteen. Though if they were teenagers maybe throwing her in the back alley was their only option.

She mulled over the words again and again, wondering what was wrong with her. Just think of something funny, is that so damn hard?

Lupin had enough at some point. He stepped in front of her with his wand out and the form of the bushy haired girl shifted into a milky, glowing orb suspended in space. Hermione squinted, trying to figure out what it was, it was familiar, but looked wrong suspended in the teacher's cluttered office. Then she saw the rabbit that doubled for a man's face. Why is your worst fear the moon, Lupin? He was staring at the three-quarter moon quite intently that night...

"Are you alright, Hermione?" Lupin asked clasping the trunk shut once he shoved the boggart back inside.

Lupin stared at her, with a patient expression and understanding eyes. He lowered himself to her eye-level, something no one but her father did, but she recognised the pity etched across his thin face. She suddenly knew how he saw her, a frail little girl incapable of handling herself, that was how they all saw her. A creature worthy of pity if the trouble didn't outweigh it.

Fuck... Hermione hastily dried her eyes and let her hair hide her face. "I'm fine."