"Severus, can I speak with you?" Lupin asked.
"It appears you are indeed capable of producing speech around me," Severus sighed.
Lupin followed Severus on his way to the dungeons after supper that evening. It seemed despite their little conversation Lupin didn't understand that he wanted nothing to do with him. Something that had not changed since Lupin discovered he could humiliate him as an adult just as he did as a child. True, he had no idea what Longbottom's worst fear was, but he still encouraged the boy and his fear, and the solution to it, into the spotlight. That was all any of the third years could talk about all bloody week.
The man was trying too hard. Do honestly believe I'm going to forgive you if you simply follow me about? It's having the opposite effect, you son of a bitch.
"I know you want as little to do with me as possible," Lupin said. "But it's about Hermione. Normally, I'd just write home in this situation-but that's not exactly an approach I can take with her."
"What did she do now?" he sighed, slowing his pace.
"Do?" Lupin sputtered. "She didn't do anything, I'm worried about her."
Severus stopped and turned to face Lupin. The man always looked so pathetic, his eyes dominating his too thin face, and even dressed the part of a street urchin in need of food, water, and shelter. Everyone else might have been sympathetic, but he was not. But he could read his expressions, they hadn't changed since their boyhood. The concern in his pale green eyes were sadly real.
"Is she hurt?" he asked slowly, his throat tightening.
"I don't believe she's in danger, Severus," he explained. "It's about her-erm-I just don't think she's well."
Severus all but dragged Lupin to the nearest empty classroom once he said that. He couldn't risk anyone over hearing their little chat for Hermione's sake, but he wanted to hear what it was immediately. How long had he feared the girl's unravelling? Years it felt, she never had the most solid foundation, and despite her refusal to talk about it, he suspected the incident in the chamber pushed her over the edge.
"Talk now," he said once he shut the door behind them.
Lupin surveyed his surroundings, as if unsure what to make of them and shivered. Severus rolled his eyes before turning his attention back to the sickly, smaller man. If he didn't pathetic before, the fear on his face made him so. Severus recognised the mad search for words from both his experience as a teacher to errant trouble makers and a father to a hyper-attentive daughter.
"I don't want to overstep my bounds," Lupin started. "But I'll just say it. I think Hermione needs help-erm-professionally."
Why the hell would she need-I was worried about her stability, but professional help? Are there even any wizards that do that outside a hospital setting? Severus had to admit his he had no direct experience with psychiatric care. He wasn't a teenager that equated the media he consumed to reality, but he did hear and read stories from Saint Mungo's-he couldn't subject Hermione to that. He conceded she needed help, but she wasn't so far gone she need that. It would hurt her more than help her.
"My daughter isn't insane, Lupin!" he spat. "Hermione's been through enough without me tossing her into fucking Bedlam. What the hell possessed you to even think that was on the table?"
Lupin knit his eyebrows. "I don't think Hermione's mad. I know what you're imagining, and it's not like that. I had to see a counsellor when I was a boy-"
"Your childhood wasn't exactly normal, now was it?" he snapped.
"Well," he sighed and the lines on his face deepened. "No, it wasn't. I know you don't trust me, but this isn't about that. It's about Hermione."
"If this part of a plan to hurt Hermione because you're upset with me-"
"No, Severus, I could never hurt Hermione," he insisted. "I adore her."
Adore her?! "I dare you to repeat that!" he clenched shaking fists at his side.
Lupin's eyes fell to the ground and her tented his fingers like an awkward child. "And I'm just realising that's probably not what a man wants a colleague to say about his underage daughter."
"Well you were always the clever one, weren't you?" Severus seethed.
"That's not what I meant," Lupin promised. "She's a good kid. She and Harry both-"
"You tell me my daughter is need of professional help, you then say you adore her and then you compare her to Potter?" he scoffed. "If your aim is to infuriate me, Lupin, you are doing very well. Your point. Now."
"It's about the forms the boggart she faced took..."
Hogwarts Professor Faces Groundless Accusations after 'Hippogriff Incident' on First Day!
"He would never harm anyone unprovoked!" says Professor Rubeus Hagrid, 56, in defence of the hippogriff, Buckbeak, 4.
On the first day of classes the newly assigned Hagrid had decided to show the third-years the hippogriffs that had been in his care for years. An exciting choice for the intrepid third-years who have yet to take such a class. He only let the students near a select few who he had previously observed to be docile.
"I thought the hippogriffs were really cool," states an anonymous Hufflepuff student. "They let us pet them, but they were so, unique. I loved them!"
"They were cool!" agrees Ravenclaw third-year, Terrance Boot, 13 (wished to be named, permissions granted by guardian). "It's a damn shame we never got to ride them!"
The Ravenclaw-Hufflepuff class went off without a hitch. Hagrid, too, was disappointed that none of the animals took a liking to any of the students in that class enough to ride, but says "it was better safe than sorry, you know?". So, he clearly did have the safety of his students in mind. Something I would implore my readers to keep in mind when reading the events that transpired in the Gryffindor-Slytherin third year class with the exact same lesson plan.
There are a number of anonymous students involved. For this reason we will be calling the student who rode the hippogriff will be Student A and the plaintiff will be Student B. Each were from opposite houses, but to protect their anonimity which student came from which house will be omitted.
"I showed the students to the hippogriff, just like the last time" says Hagrid. "[Student A] followed my instructions carefully, and Buckbeak responded to [them]. He really liked [Student A], I reckon. Showed interest in letting [them] ride him. It went quite well, [they] mounted Buckbeak, took off, flew about the lake and landed safely."
"It was incredible!" exclaims a Gryffindor student. "I've never seen anything like it! [Student A] flew that hippogriff so well! Buckbeak landed, and even let me stroke his beak afterwards. Many of the students were even cheering as [they] landed. It was so cool! And then [Student B] had to go and bullox it up!" When asked for clairifcation, the student continues "Hagrid said we shouldn't insult the hippogriffs, that they were sensitive to comments. [Student B] did not give a bloody damn. [They] walked right up to him and called him an ugly brute. Buckbeak was reacting to [Student B's] cruelty."
"[Student B] was just upset Buckbeak wouldn't let [them] ride him," comments [Student A], explaining that Student B has a history of reacting poorly when they are not the centre of attention. Not only have other students and teachers noticed this behaviour, but their behaviour around the injury seems to add credence to Student A's claim.
Student B's injuries are consistent with an attack by a hippogriff's talons. However, those consistent injuries, according to the literature and their age and general condition (as far as this reporter knows, Student B has declined to comment), should have been treated overnight. Yet the third-year student remains in a sling, despite being seen by witnesses displaying a full range of movement. You, dear reader, are welcome to draw your own conclusions here.
Various interviews with students from both Hagrid's third-year classes support the claims of Student A. Buckbeak was very docile and gentle with several students who handled him that day. The likely reason for the attack was either intentional (as many on the scene claim) or unintentional provocation on Student B's part.
A review of the literature by expert such as the Scamanders, the Irish Magical Creatures' Preservation Project, and the European Society of Magizoologists all suggest that a healthy hippogriff (an examination of Buckbeak determined he is healthy and likely emotionally stable) is unlikely to attack a human unprovoked.
There are fears among the staff and students that Student B will use their claims to bolster those who disagree with Hargid's appointment by Dumbledore. Hogwarts is not new to Ministry and public meddling. Do not be fooled by claims looking to oust a capable teacher and wrongfully execute an innocent creature!
"Do you think the Quibbler will take it?" Hermione asked.
Luna shrugged. "I think it would be better if you named the parties. Strike a more emotional cord with readers, especially when everyone loves Harry."
"Yeah," Hermione sighed. "Everyone does adore him don't they?"
"Well, except for your father," Ginny laughed. "I don't know how you found the time with all those classes, Hermione. No wonder I never see you at meals anymore. I thought Ron just scared you off."
Ginny wasn't completely wrong. Hermione had made a point of showing up to each meal just long enough to be seen by her father, then skulk out with a handful of easy things to grab that she could covertly snack on in the library. It was mostly to get past her copious amounts of work, both assigned and volunteered. But, things had not been smooth with Ron. Crookshanks still wanted nothing more than to murder Scabbers, and neither Harry nor Ron forgot the comment she made about Ron not liking her. She apologised, but it was still...awkward.
As much as she hated the incident with the boggart, and that Lupin now knew her deepest fears, she wished it reminded her of her place before her outburst. That being said, she was still so angry, and tired, but she was more scared of being alone than those other things. She just had to keep everything under control. Control the narrative of the incident, control her class input, and control her moods.
"Are you sure you don't want to join the paper, Ginny?" Luna asked arranging articles. "It's really fun. I see why Daddy loves the Quibbler so much after doing this. It's fantastic!"
Ginny gave an awkward smile backing away a bit in her chair. "I'm good, Loon-erm-Luna."
"That's funny," Luna mused tapping her blue quill to her lip. "Hermione always stutters my name too. Must be a Gryffindor thing."
Ginny smirked at Hermione raising her red eyebrows. "Oh, really?"
"L-Luna!" Hermione cried as a blush rose to her cheeks.
"What?" Luna blinked at Hermione and Ginny, completely unaware of Hermione's embarrassment.
She could tell that Ginny had expected her slip-up to be similar to her own, where she nearly called Luna 'Looney', but instead was surprised that it was just a flustered sputtering of her name. Nope, Hermione was just easily taken aback by Luna.
"Sloan!" O'Malley called from Hermione's other side. "Over here. I'm so glad someone that isn't a twelve-year-old girl is here."
"I'm thirteen," Hermione muttered. "And I thought you liked working with us?"
"Sorry, sunshine," he shrugged. "Have to honest, hanging around with only girls who are much younger than me is uncomfortable. I'll probably start-" he straightened at the sight of Skylar and Deirdre. "Oh, hi! I thought you said you were bringing Delaney, Sloan?"
"Sorry, I'm late," Skylar walked in beaming at the lot of them with Deirdre Delaney at their side, also beaming. "Hermione said she was bringing a friend, and Deirdre missed a lot of time, so I thought I'd invite her."
Deirdre smiled sitting opposite O'Malley. "And I am Delaney. I'm not sure you remember me. O'Malley, right?"
O'Malley bit his lip, as if trying to place where he'd seen Deirdre before. He tapped his chin, and Deirdre sat with an uneasy smile on her face, as if wishing she hadn't said what she did. Hermione wondered why before it became clear.
"Oh!" O'Malley with a nervous laugh. "Erm, it's nice to meet you-erm-again. Deirdre's a good name, by the way."
"Thanks," Deirdre's smile became easier and her shoulders untensed before turning to Hermione. "Skylar says you and Luna run the paper?"
"I don't think so," Hermione shook her head with a smile and gestured to Luna. "Luna is our editor and chief. I just write articles."
"Hello, Deirdre" Luna said in a dreamy voice. "Tell me, how do you feel about Crumple-horned Snorkaks?"
"Erm," she gave an uneasy laugh. "Not sure they exist, to be honest."
Perhaps Hermione was hasty in comparing Deirdre to Luna. They had the same dreamy smiles and stares, the same ethereal touch to their tones, and the same demeanour. Though Deirdre seemed much more grounded than she had given her Arithmancy partner in the past.
"Just like everyone else," Luna gave a disappointed sigh. "You'll fit right in. I shall think O'Malley and I will have to get members from our own houses to even everything up again."
"Still not joining," Ginny sang. "I need to save my time for Quidditch. The minute there's an opening, I'm diving in. And I don't think I'm keen on looking like Hermione."
"I get it," Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed. "I'm hideous."
"I meant you look tired!" Ginny groaned.
"Plus you're gorgeous," Luna said plainly.
"L-Luna!" Hermione sputtered.
Everyone stared at either Hermione or Luna, and Hermione felt her cheeks burn, certain that she wasn't just pink, but a violent red. She hated being stared at, and her heart pounded in her chest.
"What?" Luna asked innocently. "She has a very pretty face, and her eyes are beautiful."
"Do you want to write my obituary for your first assignment, Deirdre?" Hermione mumbled burying her face on the table.
"Lupin is doing boggarts with my year tomorrow," Ginny said as they walked back. "Lupin said we all have the option not to, or to do it independently with him in his office, you did that, right? How'd that go?"
I wish I had left you in the alley I found you! It would have saved me the trouble! Hermione wrung her hands nervously. She thought seeing the faces and hearing the scathing voices of what might have been her birth parents, or the construction of her mother in her mind would disturb her most when she left. Or maybe Luna's sudden capability to be nasty. But it was her father's form that haunted her dreams. Shouting at her things she'd suspected for years. She couldn't sleep most nights now, she just kept wondering if her father had regretted taking her in. If her birth parents were happy to leave her behind. She had her suspicions for years, but it had been easier to believe anything else. Abandoned, unwanted, unworthy of love...and now she was surrounded by people who would leave the instant they found out it was all true. Hiro likes me...
"It-erm-well-erm-" she started digging her nails into her hands. Should I say I left Lupin's office in tears? That it's harder to conjure a funny image if the fear is profound enough-or if you're broken. Ron's terrified of spiders and he removed its legs with no issue. They all bragged about it. Fuck, even Neville did it-you're a fucking bitch, you stupid little girl. Wait, they all bragged save Harry. I wonder why Harry didn't get to go.
"Hermione!" Harry waved her over.
Harry and Ron were standing by the portrait hole, it seemed waiting for her. Very solemn expressions on their faces.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"I think I left something at the library," Ginny said. "I'll see you tomorrow, Hermione."
Ginny had some nerve to demand Hermione 'not let Ron scare her off' when she couldn't be within two metres of Harry.
"Where were you?" Ron asked with an accusatory air.
"The library," Hermione sighed. "It's the big room with all of the books." Fuck! Could you not stop yourself? Stupid piece of shit. "Sorry, not the time. What's up?"
Harry nodded and ran a hand through his hair. "It's Hagrid. He wants to meet us, it's about Buckbeak."
"Right, let's go," she nodded.
The lot of them made their way down to Hagrid's hut, to find a very distraught Hagrid. A decision had been made. Hermione's heart dropped to her feet, and she stared out the window to see an oblivious Buckbeak eating a fat ferret carcass. He had no idea his days were numbered. Hagrid, who sobbed at the table on the other hand, was very aware of this fact.
"They," Ron breathed after Hagrid told them about the letter. "They didn't sack you, did they?"
Hagrid shook his head before blowing his nose so loudly Fang cowered under the table. "'S worse! They're gonna execute Buckbeak!" Hagrid produced a letter from the Disposal of Dangerous Magical Creatures. Hermione's stomach formed in knots as she tried to determine
"Hagrid," Harry gasped, a cautious hope crossing his face. "This isn't an execution notice, but a trial. If you can prove they're wrong about Buckbeak in the trail you'll be fine!"
Hagrid wailed at this. Harry had such a hard life, Hermione wondered where the hell he found the optimism. Though Hermione admired the righteous flame alight in his green eyes. Hermione was, if she were being totally honest, terrified of experiencing anger, what if she blew up? What if she turned cruel? What if she was just like her father? She could already feel it happening with many of her interactions with Ron or her father. She conviently forgot about her issues with people like Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson. But in Harry, she could see a use for that emotion she'd only ever read about. He could use it as a weapon to ensure things got done. She admired that about him, felt stirred to action.
"Here's plan A," Hermione said taking a copy of the article she'd written for Luna and handing it to Hagrid. "We're taking control of the narrative, if we get everyone on our side, it'll be harder for the ministry to go a head with the execution. Plan B is to mount a solid defence. Hagrid, I'll give you my notes and write a defence speech for Buckbeak. I'll see if there's a historical precedent and write a couple of Magical Creatures' Rights Activists. By the end of the week, everyone will know this is a grave miscarriage of justice!"
"Blimey," Ron started at her, his blue eyes bulging and mouth gaping. "Remind me not to get on your bad side."
Hermione's cheeks flushed and couldn't help but smirk. This was very serious, but compliments from Ron, who she felt hated her at times, were high praise. She did feel quite clever, even if this wasn't the time. She even dared to hope it would work.
Harry combed over the triplicate over Hagrid's shoulder and furrowed his brow. Did he find a flaw? The idea that Hermione might be clever left her as quickly as it came to her. How frail are you? Get a bloody grip! He lifted his gaze from the article to meet Hermione and shrugged. "You could have named me, Hermione. I don't like it, but if I can be used as a rallying point, I reckon it'll be worth it. I'd rather that than all of the other stuff with my name in it."
"You would make a good rallying point," Hermione conceded. "But I wasn't going to add fuel to Malfoy's fire. Plus, we're minors, I can't use it without your aunt's permission. A law only I care about, it seems."
"Wish I knew that before eleven years passed with my name in several books and papers," Harry grumbled. "If Malfoy contests what you've written-"
"Let me handle him," Hermione bit her lip feeling that rage come back and looked out the window at Buckbeak. "If I learned one thing from my father, it's how to ensure someone our age needs therapy well into their golden years."
Hagrid looked up from the paper himself, tears still streaming from his black eyes onto his ruddy cheeks, but he tried to assume an authoritative expression. "Don' you be sinkin' to that boy's level on my account. Any of yer lot. I won' have it."
"Why shouldn't we?" Ron snapped. "After everything he's done, I'd love to see Hermione's worst."
"I reckon he's right, Ron," Harry sighed before casting a meaningful look Hermione's way. "We'll just stick to mounting a successful defence, and that'll be good enough, right, Hermione?"
"Of course," Hermione nodded soothing Hagrid's arm. "Wouldn't dream of it."
I wonder if Pansy is still willing to trade information for homework forgeries...
How am I supposed to talk to her about this...? Severus pondered watching his child enter his office.
It seemed like every Saturday morning she had been through the ringer. Shrinking beneath her bushy locks, skin drained from a warm to a paler shade, lips cracked from repeated biting and her eyes ringed from sleepless nights. Hermione was just a child, how the hell did she get to this point after only three weeks? Maybe she was doing more than her share, he didn't exactly trust she would leave the hippogriff situation alone, despite repeated pleas not to involve herself with Malfoys affairs. More importantly, he worried Potter made her help with whatever plans he had regarding Black. The poor little girl shrinking before him didn't know how to say 'no'.
"How was your week, love?" he placed a hand on her head.
"Busy," she shrugged with a sigh and weak smile. "You were right, I was mad to sign up for so many classes."
"I did tell you you'd be pressed for time," he sighed mussing her hair. "Perhaps now you'll listen to me. I do know best."
"Of course you do," she sighed clasping her hands together. "Actually, Dad, I did have a couple of questions I wanted to ask."
Such a nervous child, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear to uncover an uneasy gaze. Hermione rarely initiated conversations or asked questions, which he found odd as she had always been so curious, but he knew certain topics, the ones it seemed she was most curious about, he couldn't be as forthcoming as she wanted. It seemed Hermione knew that as well. Or maybe she'll talk to me about the boggart? I don't have to broach the subject if she does.
All Lupin told him was that it was a delicate matter and that he would have to talk to her himself about the form it took if he refused to get her professional help. That it was indicative of 'an emotional disturbance'. That was helpful, the bastard might as well have told him nothing. Nothing was actionable.
"Speak up, little girl," he said after a silence. "I can't very well answer your questions if you don't ask, now, can I?"
"So," she dug her nails into her hands. "Whenever I'm the querent for Arithmancy, my numbers are off. I've been meaning to ask-was I maybe born on midnight or in a different time zone? I mean, somewhere it wouldn't have been September first?"
Damn it. How did he tell his child he had no bloody clue when she was born? That her development was so scattered due to her condition that even the healers couldn't place an age on her? Hell, she could have been younger or older than he assumed. Despite the fact babies and toddlers were supposed to have very clear cut developmental stages. That he took that she looked like she was either one or nearly one and simply assigned a date? And unlike when she was five, he couldn't simply say that he would tell her when she was older. That wouldn't fly with her now.
"Is it not more likely," he began. "That your partner is simply running the numbers wrong?"
"Maybe," she sighed, not looking entirely convinced.
An uneasy silence passed between the two. It seemed the older Hermione got, the more baffling the Saturday morning meetings became. Clearly, a dismissal was not what she was looking for, nor something she believed. Severus wished Hermione would find something else to fixate on, but when did her curiosities ever line up with his wishes? At least Potter hadn't dragged her into anything nearly fatal...yet.
"So," Hermione forced an awkward laugh. "Professor Trelawney doesn't seem to like me or you very much. What's that about?"
"If you can believe it," he forced a lighter tone himself, with more success than his daughter. "You were eleven-months-old, and you had the nerve to cry when a complete stranger hoovered over you claiming to have visions."
"Oh, the nerve of me."
"I could have Daddy send you some old Quibbler articles on Sirius Black, Hermione," Luna suggested.
Hermione had read the same articles on Sirius Black over and over again, but she doubted Quibbler articles would help. She hadn't the heart to tell Luna that her father didn't exactly care about a little thing called 'the truth'. She honestly thought after she left her own father's office that she would be left alone. Ron was off in Hogsmede along with the rest of them, and Harry, Hermione imagined, was trying to devise ways to jail-break from the castle. She'd have to check on him.
Hermione's time alone going over Black's background vanished when Luna and later Ginny ambushed her on the way to the library. Now, the three of them sat in at a table in the library, surprisingly cordial. Hermione wondered when Ginny started hanging out with Luna, but welcomed the censoring of calling her 'Looney'. It did surprise Hermione, as she noticed that Ginny was recently immensely popular in her year, and Luna was not, and Hermione knew her own status as 'social suicide' extended well beyond her own year. She had options outside of two of the school's most hated girls.
"It probably couldn't hurt," Hermione conceded. "I'm also thinking of finding a way to get a hold of muggle papers. I'll have to ask Skylar if they mind asking their parents, I don't want to drag anyone else into this though."
"You're not dragging," Ginny rolled her eyes. "You won't even let us know what you're planning."
Hermione rolled her own eyes. "I don't have a plan. I'm just doing research, and it's dreadfully boring. You're too young anyway."
"Bitch, didn't you just turn thirteen?" Ginny raised an eyebrow. "I doubt eleven months is that big a difference."
"And I'm thirteen this February!" Luna piped up.
"I still have no plan," Hermione said. "Honestly, I'm lucky if I can just keep my classes straight. I have so much work, I think I wrote Hiro the shortest letter ever this week."
"Okay," Ginny leaned in imploringly. "You at least have to tell us about Hiro!"
What's the harm? Hermione thought. She loved that it was a secret, but the idea of talking about Hiro made it feel more real, less like a fever dream from a long past summer month. She had Hiro's letters, she even reread them when she had the time, keeping them in a drawer on her bedside cabinet. When she was at her lowest, Hiro's letter lifted her. His words transported her back to that kiss. To his arms around her. The way he looked at her. Every new letter made her feel all of those things over again. She wasn't a burden, hideous, or mental. Hiro found Hermione attractive, he treated her like she was precious, and like she was good to him to. It might have been completely mental, but Hermione thought she might love Hiro. She'd be lying if she said she never had visions of moving to Japan for him and starting a family. Maybe she was just infatuated, that was common for girls her age, but despite what she'd read, Hermione knew at her core that what she had with Hiro was real. She just wanted to feel like that in between letters as well.
"Tell anyone and I'll make my father seem like a saint," Hermione whispered.
She had Luna's an Ginny's undivided attention, all three of them leaning in to the table, their heads almost touching. She told them that she was dating Hiro, that he'd kissed her in the forest, and how he'd asked her if they could be together, despite the distance. She even told them about the braided cord around her wrist and it's symbolism. Ginny's eyes widened, ever the romantic, she drank in every word, but she also seemed relieved. Hermione knew why, Ginny had a crush on Harry. If Hermione was with Hiro, then she didn't have her sights on Harry. Though the idea someone like Ginny would find someone like her remotely threatening was laughable.
Luna was harder to interpret. She listened intently, but the dreamy sparkle in her eyes and smile on her lips faded. She seemed pensive, like she was wondering how legitimate the relationship could be. Or perhaps Hermione was projecting her own insecurities on to her. She remembered boggart Hiro telling her that she 'wasn't worth the trouble'. Part of her did believe it.
"Hey, Hermione," Harry said standing at the table. "Ginny, Luna."
"Hi, Harry," they greeted.
"Erm," Ginny scrambled to her feet. "Lupin assigned us loads of homework in our year."
"I don't think he-ouch!" Luna squeaked. "Oh! That homework. I remember now. See you, Hermione, Harry."
"What was that about?" Harry asked sitting across from her.
"You don't know?" Hermione asked with a raised eyebrow.
He shook his head and eyed Hermione's reading. "Anything new?"
Hermione shook her head with a sigh. "I'm really sorry, Harry. I keep coming across the same things over and over. Nothing new."
"So," he whispered, leaning in. "What's the plan with Malfoy?"
Hermione smirked and placed a finger on her lips. The truth was, she had no clue. It was harder to keep everything straight than ever and she didn't know how to connect with Pansy without raising the alarms. She would plan their revenge, but she needed time. She wore a device around her neck that could give her that, and she promised to only use it to make her classes. Hermione couldn't break her word, it was all she had. She'd figure it out.
"I think he knows something," said Harry. "He said that he'd 'want vengeance' and asked if I'd 'be staying cosy and safe like the teachers want'."
Hermione clasped her hands and stared at them. She didn't know if Malfoy knew anything, but she figured it'd be easier to pry information from Black's former best friend-or one of them. That meant she had to face him again after he saw-she'd prepare herself for it. Until then, she would have to make sure Harry didn't do anything stupid.
"That prat is just trying to get a rise out of you, Harry."
He nodded and ran a hand through his untidy black hair with a sigh. "That's what Ron said."
"What?" Hermione laughed. "Ron was right about something. Whew, I gotta tell you, Harry. I think I got him all wrong."
"Maybe you're being a little generous?" Harry laughed rolling his eyes.
The two of them left the library speculating on whether Ron was in Hogsmede with Neville or with Fred, George and Lee. They were half way down the corridor when someone called out to Harry.
"Shit," Hermione hissed stepping behind Harry. "Pretend you don't hear him, please?"
"What?" whispered Harry. "Why? He's probably the best teacher we've ever had."
She knew Harry was probably right, but Lupin saw her fears. She did everything to avoid him since she left his office in tears...aside from skiving. But in class she could hide. And she still wasn't sure if she trusted him alone with Harry. Something just didn't feel right about him. He was hiding something, she was certain of it. Or her father was simply getting to her.
"Harry," Lupin said with a sincere smile. "I don't know if you had anything to do today, but I was wondering if I could have a chat with you?"
"Sure," Harry nodded.
Hermione elbowed him in the ribs. "But we did tell Luna and Ginny we'd catch up with them, didn't we?"
A realization flashed across Lupin's pale green eyes and Hermione knew that he knew what she was doing. How could she have been so careless? She might as well have told Lupin outright she didn't trust him with her friends, though she supposed she did that on the train. Though he seemed-Remus John Lupin was a goddamned enigma. She wished she could despise him as easily as her father did.
"Actually," Lupin sighed placing a hand on Harry's shoulder. "You could benefit from the conversation as well, Hermione."
Hermione clasped her hands together and drove her nails into her flesh. This had to happen. She exchanged a nervous glance at Harry, who simply shrugged. Harry and Hermione followed Lupin into his office in relative silence. Hermione wondered what he would talk about, likely his connection to Black. Something Harry and Hermione both had many questions about. However, when they entered the room there was more than just Lupin's specimens waiting for them.
"Severus?" Lupin stood with Potter shortly behind him-with Hermione.
Severus set the steaming goblet down on Lupin's desk and cast a look to his daughter-whose confusion subsided to fixation, as she bit her lip in thought. "You forgot your potion. Don't make this a pattern."
"Of course, Severus," Lupin nodded with a nervous smile. "Thank you. I'd forget my own head if it weren't attached."
"We should be so lucky," he sneered. How could you be so bloody irresponsible?! If your forgetfulness harms my daughter, you will be very sorry indeed!
Hermione and Potter exchanged a look before Hermione clasped her hands and approached Lupin-thankfully-with trepidation. "Erm," she spoke quietly, and in Japanese.
Lupin showed no such concern for his volume as he casually shrugged and replied to whatever Hermione's question was-also in Japanese.
What the actual hell, Lupin?! Was it not bad enough he nearly cost Severus his life? That he was the reason Lily gave James a chance in the first place? Or that he now invaded his adult life? Did he have to win over his daughter as well? Hermione was a smart girl, she had to know that Lupin was dangerous and cruel, even if she didn't have the details. Lily was a smart girl too.
"Young lady," he folded his arms across his chest. "I'd like a word with you in my office."
"Yessir," Hermione nodded.
She whispered something else in Japanese to Lupin and cast a meaningful glance to Potter.
"I'll meet you there, little girl," Severus said. "I believe you are already familiar with the location, yes?"
Hermione nodded, taking his meaning and left Lupin's office without further delay.
"Severus?" Lupin approached him with caution.
"Do the words 'stay the hell away from her' mean nothing to you, Lupin?" he hissed, wishing he also had a common alternative language with Lupin.
"You know I'd never hurt her," he whispered back.
"Is that why you invited her into your office without taking your damn potion?" Severus spat.
"It's not even-" Lupin then sighed. "I see your point."
"And when did you two start conversing in Japanese?" Severus was mere inches from Lupin's face.
"I met her in Japan," Lupin explained.
"You met her where?" he choked. Does Mahoukatoro not care about werewolves? If he was there-he did work on yokai-of fucking course! Damn it! Severus turned his attention to a very awkward Potter who was likely waiting to be dismissed or for him to leave. "We'll have this conversation later, Lupin," he said at a normal volume. "If you need more, there's a cauldron full in my office. I won't be bringing any more up."
"Yes," he nodded. "Thank you, Severus."
"I'm not doing this for you."
Severus left Potter and Lupin to their own devices as he wondered how to let on to Hermione that Lupin was a werewolf without telling her. I'm not making such a stupid promise to that old man ever again.