A/N: Sorry for delay. Accidentally deleted whole chapter, didn't back it up and had to rewrite the whole damn thing!

"What part of 'stay away from him outside of classes' don't you understand?" Severus paced the legnth of his office.

Hermione's muscles tensed as if she were conflicted between the urge to draw herself to her full height and shrink herself as small as she could go. Did she not understand the danger she was putting herself in, or did she just not care? She went from wringing her hands to clasping them and inhaled deeply.

"I didn't want to leave Harry alone with him," Hermione inhaled sharply. "I thought you wanted me to trust you, Dad. I believe you don't trust him, so shouldn't-"

"I can't believe what I'm hearing!" Severus roared. "Yes, I want you to trust me, but I didn't want you throwing yourself in harm's way!"

Hermione straightened herself, squeezing her clasped hands tighter together. "If you're right, it's Harry who's in danger, not me."

"Impetuous as always, I see," he lifted her face by the chin. "Did you forget about that little conversation we had on the first day of classes? Not only are you in very real danger, but Potter has enough people looking out for him without you mucking things up. Your meddling will put the boy in more danger, not less."

Hermioe recoiled at the suggestion she was making things worse. He hated it, but he was more than willing to play into her various guilt complexes if it meant she would stay the hell away from Lupin. He remembered vividly all the dangers playing detective got her in the previous year. Hermione nearly died. All in the name of Harry fucking Potter. Severus swore he wouldn't lose anyone else for the sake of that damn boy. Hermione was all he had, and if he had to protect her from herself, he would. At least she was being honest with him. That was territory that he'd though vanished two years ago.

"Now tell me, young lady," he said. "How far does your meddling go?"

"Not far, sir," she said. "Just a few back issues of the Prophet."

"Now why do I doubt that?" he sighed.

Hermione rolled her eyes and gave an exasperated sigh of her own. "I don't know, sir."

"Don't you roll your eyes at me, Hermione Elizabeth Lilium Snape!" he spat. "I swear, it's been one thing after another since you met those damn boys! I-"

"That's not-"

"Silence, you silly little girl!" he snarled. "Don't you dare interrupt me."

"Sorry, sir," Hermione nodded, averting her gaze.

"As I was saying," he continued. "I highly doubt Potter won't drag you into this, nor that you haven't investigated further than you claim to have. However, seeing as I have no evidence of my suspicions. I will have to take you at your word. Do not make me regret this decision, little girl!"

"No, sir," she backed away and shook her head. "I-erm-won't."

The twel—thirteen-year-old girl shifted uncomfortably on her feet and Severus couldn't help but think of the tiny girl that curled up in his lap most nights before bed for a bedtime story. Now he counted himself lucky if she voluntarily looked in his direction. He remembered to well what it was like when he was her whole damn world, and despite the joy and pride that he was supposed to feel watching her grow up, he couldn't help but miss it.

It would be different if she stopped insisting on putting herself in danger.

"Hermione, listen," he rested a hand on top of her head. "I don't want you—"

He was interrupted by a blasted knock on the door. Just his luck. Severus opened the door to find the last person he wanted to see.

"You wanted to speak with me, Se—" Lupin saw Hermione standing by his desk. "Is this a bad time?"

"And what gave you that impression, I wonder…" he feigned musing. "Perhaps it was that you were there when I asked my daughter to report to my office so I could speak with her privately?"

"Sorry," he said. "I can come back la-"

"Actually," he thought about the little Japanese back and forth Lupin shared with his daughter. "It's better we get this over with now. Hermione, you're dismissed."

"Yessir," Hermione nodded. "I'll see you Monday, sir."

Before Severus could respond Hermione took off down the corridor and was vanishing into the distance.

"This conversation isn't over, young lady!" he called to no response. "I'm beginning to think that selective hearing is a biological feature in girls her age."

"Teenagers in general if I recall correctly," Lupin said. "Is she your oldest?"

"She's my everything," he said in a quiet voice, unsure what made him share that with him. Damn that sincere gaze... "Which is precisely why you are going to tell me what your little exchange was before I sent her away and the exact manner you met my little girl in Japan."

Lupin shifted uncomfortably. "It was the night before the full moon and I was on an island off the southern coast of Japan studying a bamboo yokai. I thought it was uninhabited and that no one else would be there. But I was watching the moon on the edge of the cliff and I saw this young couple in muggle school uniforms walking along the treeline. I don't know who the boy was, but Hermione was the girl."

"Couple?" he rolled his eyes. "Hermione's far too young for such nonsense."

'It's bold of you to assume I'll only like boys'. He recalled her words in August. When she told me that I thought that she was testing the waters, taking the first step of coming-out to me. Only boys, she said only boys. Either way, it should be years before she starts dating anyone. And she-she would tell me about something as major as a boyfriend or girlfriend, wouldn't she?

"Her friend then," Lupin back-peddled. "Either way, she saw me standing on the edge of the cliff and the poor girl thought I was going to jump. She starting talking me down in Japanese. That's how I knew she spoke it. It took some convincing, but I managed to assure her I wasn't going to jump."

Severus reflected back on August with a sudden and disturbing clarity. Hermioe had been so distant, it was as if she completely shut down despite his attempts to engage her. He thought it was the trauma from her abduction or her near Kiss by the lake. That would have shaken much older and more stable people. But her inital response to the dementors on the platform-ones which were simply nearby-was far worse than he'd expected. That was before her encounter by the lake. Yet weeks later she held her own against one engaging in hostile action-when she shared a compartment with Lupin. Hermione returned to school more alive, as if some great burden were lifted. Hermione not only assumed that Lupin jumped, but she blamed herself for it. She thought-Oh, my poor little girl, I wish you had told me...

"I don't think she was as convinced of your safety as she pretended to be," he seethed. Don't blame him, it's not his fault. He had no control over what Hermione thought. Yet, his blood still boiled. Had he any idea the kind of impact it would have on her?

"I-I-" Lupin started, sounding a bit like one of his predecessors. "Severus, I had a camp set look of realisation and embarrassment that crossed her face when she saw it. I-I was certain she was satisfied I wasn't going to do it. I don't even know why she came to that conclusion, Severus."

"A sad, frail man alone staring at the edge of a cliff?" he raised an eyebrow. "No, I haven't any idea why she assumed you were going to jump."

Lupin ran a hand through his greying brown hair and cast his sympathetic pale green gaze to him with an exasperated sigh. "Severus, if Hermione walked away thinking I hurt myself, I'm sorry. I hate to think what she might have gone through, but I can't help what goes through her head."

"She blamed herself, you know that?" he snapped before he could stop himself. He then sighed and turned away. "I suppose you're right, though. I can't hold you responsible for her thoughts."

"Is that an apology?" Lupin asked.

"It's a statement of fact, Lupin," Severus fixed an icy stare on Lupin. He was not apologising to that bastard. "Now, tell me. What were you two talking about before I sent her away?"

Lupin sighed again looking both tired and frustrated. "She told me that if anything happened to Harry I would be 'so very sorry'. Hermione's a sweet girl, clever too, but she isn't very trusting."

"You mean she doesn't trust you?" he scoffed. "Good."

"Good?" Lupin choked. "I understand you have your reasons for not trusting me, but for a child to grow up seeing threats everywhere...it's not healthy, Severus."

"Not healthy?" he spat. "What's not healthy is allowing her to become a little idiot bound to get herself killed!"

"I understand she's been in danger before but-"

"Do you have any children, Lupin?"

Lupin shifted uncomfortably and bit his lip. "You know I don't. I can't, not with-"

"The risk of passing on your condition does make the prospect of having children challenging, doesn't it?" he laughed coldly. "And I don't see many adoption agencies willing to risk an innocent child's welfare with the likes of you either. I certainly wouldn't."

"You don't need to be so bloody crass," Lupin folded his arms.

"So, you don't have children," Severus mused. "And correct me if I'm wrong, Lupin, but this is the first time you've had any sustained contact with children since you were one, yes?"

"You know that's true, but-"

"So what the hell makes you a fucking expert in childrearing?!" he seethed.

Lupin had no response to this. He just looked at Severus sadly. The truth seemed to be painful. Good, that would teach him to make assumptions about how Severus should treat his daughter. Severus refused to feel sorry for the man who had put not just him, but his daughter now, through absolute hell. Lupin deserved no reprieve.

"Hermione is my daughter, Lupin," he said. "I'm the one that watched illness ravage her as an infant, I'm the one that leaned over his crib just to ensure she was still breathing. I soothed every worry, every nightmare, I nursed every fever. I'm the one that had to watch her nearly die, before she was even three. Multiple times! And again feared for her safety when she befriended Potter and his sidekick. Last year when she was abducted I honestly thought-" he voice broke and he inhaled deeply to collect himself.

"Severus," Lupin said sympathetically, reaching out to touch his arm. "I had no-"

"So what the fuck makes you think you're the one that knows what's best for my daughter?!" he snapped jerking his arm back.

"I-" he sighed. "I was worried about Hermione and thought you should know."

"Duly noted," he snapped. "Now get the hell out of my office!"

Lupin turned to leave but paused in the door way and turned back. "When I spoke with Harry he said that you were keen on the Defense Against the Dark Arts appointment."

Read a bloody room and leave me alone, Lupin! "Did he now? I also imagine Potter also told you the potion I gave you was some sort of poison?"

"Actually," he said. "Yes. But that's not-listen, Severus, I can't teach my classes Friday afternoon-"

"Oh?" he scoffed. "You can't teach the afternoon of the full moon? I'm shocked."

"Don't make this harder than it already is," Lupin sighed. "I'm trying to extend an olive branch here."

"By telling me how to raise my daughter or by accusing me of poisoning you?"

"Do you want to take my afternoon classes on Friday?" Lupin asked.

Truthfully, he would have loved to. Years of being stuck in the potions laboratories while students found new and exciting ways to muck up the various potions, leaving mess if he were lucky and endangering others if he wasn't, it was just the tip of the iceberg. Dumbledore not only passed him over year after year for his desired subject, leaving him with migraine inducing potions, but dangled the topic over him like a carrot. Severus didn't dislike potions, he actually rather liked them, but his true fascination and passion lied in the Dark Arts and their defences. Even that he could leave alone, but teaching Lily's favourite subject to the son she had with Potter...he couldn't pretend that didn't pain him daily. One afternoon of teaching his preferred subject wouldn't undo all that damage nor would it undo the years of damage inflicted by Lupin himself, but it having something that he had been barred from, even temporarily, was a slight reprieve. And it was rather considerate of Lupin...

No, Lupin is a monster...literally. And the things he said about Hermione...Well, it seemed Severus was more compelled by Lupin's audacity in criticising his parenting methods than the man's considerate-act.

"Your idea of extending an olive branch is asking me to take on your duties while you're incapacitated by a condition I already work tirelessly to treat?" he spat.

"You know what, Severus," he snapped. "I give up. The offer stands if you want it, you know where to find me. I'm gone."

"Don't let the door hit you on your way out," he spat. "Self-righteous prat," he muttered once Lupin left.

Severus started to mark his OWL papers of mystical moonstone properties trying to put the matter from his mind. He read the same tripe, year after year. The hours widdled away before he came upon Hermione's paper. He read it over, and it read like a very in depth textbook, citing years of research and studies done before she was even born. She even made acknowledgements of less-known uses and speculated on other uses given its mystical properties. A fascinating read if he considered her age. Hermione made connections her older classmates didn't. If Lupin was right about Hermione's emotional state her work should have suffered, but it was even more in-depth than usual. Lupin had no idea what was on that little girl's mind.

But does anyone know the content of Hermione's mind?

"So then he says 'but seeing as I have no evidence, I'll have to take you at your word," Hermione ranted. "As if that's ever stopped him before!"

" Yeah," Harry nodded with a bitter laugh. "He's never been the 'evaluate the evidence type'. He's more the 'I don't care how, or that it was impossible, but it's all Potter's fault' type. He's always on about how I'm such a terrible person."

"You're not a terrible person, Harry," Hermione offered closing her book.

"If Snape wants to see a terrible person he can take a good long look in the mirror," Ginny said leaning across the table.

"Reckon he can without his eyes spurting blood?" Ron laughed.

"Hey!" Hermione swatted Ron with a roll of parchment. "I'm angry, but he's still my father!"

"Oh, come on, sunshine," O'Malley teased. "Admit you found it funny. We all did."

"Yes," Luna mused dreamily, tapping her lips with a silver quill that matched her eyes. "Ron is very funny, but he's also very mean."

"I prefer the time people-challenged," Deirdre giggled.

"Oh, Ron's challenged alright," Ginny smirked.

"Hey!" Ron protested.

"I'd be careful what you two say," Hermione warned. "Skylar's parents are both family therapists. They might try to diagnose you."

"I would do now such thing!" Skylar protested. "As a child of therapists, I'm only qualified to go 'hmm' and assign personality disorders to fictional characters."

"Are they taking any new patients, Skylar?" Harry asked jerking a thumb toward Hermione. "I reckon she needs help."

"Congratulations, Ron," Hermione sighed. "Harry's now taken the title for king of the prats."

"He tries," Neville said.

The lot of them burst into laughter. Hermione let the waves of warmth and relief wash over her as all her friends, or almost all of them, joked and carried on. She missed Hiro and Saiyaka, but this moment was so normal, so happy. She could bask in the sunny library for the rest of time. It was only made better when she spotted a tall, slender boy about a year older than her with untidy black hair, pale olive skin and the most beautiful pair of hazel eyes she had ever seen.

"Hiro!" Hermione gasped, her heart skipping a beat.

She rushed into his arms and butterflies and a pleasant tingle replaced the serene warmth she originally felt. Gooseflesh rose on her arms as Hiro lifted her off her feet. She stared into his eyes, frozen in time. Hiro pressed his lips against hers, gently at first and then with a passionate fervour, deepening the kiss. Hermione kissed Hiro back with equal passion and the rest of the world seemed to fade away.

"Oh!" Hermione said pulling away. "I want you to meet my friends! You'll love them!"

Hermione led Hiro by the hand to the table, but found everyone was gone. The sunny table in the window was now empty, bathed in moonlight instead. The copy of Animagi: Summoning the Beast from Within Hermione was reading before laid open. A fat grey rat-Scabbers judging by the mutilated paw-chewed at the book's page frantically, as if trying to eat the whole page before someone noticed.

She saw Crookshanks's massive ginger form creeping from behind the piles of books, stalking the rat. Something about that rat was wrong and Crookshanks thought to remedy the situation.

"I know you said you weren't exactly popular," Hiro said. "But I thought you had more friends than a cat and rat."

"No, Hiro!" Hermione sifted through the scene, looking for blood, broken furniture or some other sign of struggle. "They were here. I think-I think something must have happened to them. I'm just looking for some clue as to where they might have gone."

Hiro pointed directly ahead of him. "You mean like those?"

Hermione followed Hiro's finger to see a literal trail of bread crumbs scattered over the crimson carpet and leading through the darkened stacks.

How could I have missed that? Hermione clapped a hand to her forehead and began following them. "Stay behind me, Hiro," she instructed taking out her wand.

Hiro obeyed and the two of them crept through the twisting labrynth of bookshelves with nothing but a trail of bread crumbs to follow. Somehow Scabbers got ahead of them and started eating the bread crumbs. Hermione didn't think, she just grabbed Hiro's hand and ran with him, following the trail before it could vanish.

"Stay down!" Hermione whispered as they came upon an opening in a darkened chamber.

The two of them ducked behind the massive oak shelf, peaking out to see the scene before them.

A hermetic circle was traced in white chalk with various Greek and Egyptian sigils traced along the rim. Hermione puzzled at them a moment, she recognized this, she should have known what it was. More alarming was what was in the centre of the circle. Bound with rope, she saw all of her friends, and even her father. Her father and Harry being bound together back-to-back admist the circle might have been funny, if a horrific realisation didn't come upon her. It was the Ritual of Tartarus! For every soul killed a demon was released from Tartarus. The black cloaked figure chanting above the lot of them was going to kill them!

"This is all your fault, Potter!" her father hissed.

"How?" Harry spat back. "I'm not exactly bound to you by choice, Professor."

"Oh good God," he sighed. "Of course I have to deal with Harry Potter's cheek before my death."

"Will you be quiet?!" cried the figure in a familiar whiny voice.

Pansy Parkinson?!

"You're ruining the ritual!"

"Forgive us for killing the atmosphere of our impending deaths!" Ron groaned.

"Slit my throat first, Parkinson," Neville groaned. "I don't know what's worse, their bickering or your chanting!"

Hermione wanted to congratulate Neville for finally standing up for himself, but cursed his timing. Hermione had to act fast, or Pansy was going to kill her friends and father! Luckily Pansy wasn't a real threat. Hermione let go of Hiro's hand and kissed him gently.

"If I don't make it out," she told him. "Run and find Dumbledore."

"No, Hermione, it's too-" Hiro whispered but it was too late.

"The Ritual of Tartarus, Pansy?" Hermione laughed. "Honestly! Could you be anymore tacky?"

"Hermione!" Pansy snarled. "You're too late! I'm going to raise the demons from Tartarus and you can't stop me! We'll see who has the last laugh when I kill your friends!"

"Can you do it soon, then?" Harry asked. "I don't know how much more of your chanting I can take."

"Shut up, Potter!" Pansy cried.

While Pansy was distracted Hermione transfigured her into a pug. The tiny beige and brown puppy yipped and snarled, running around and nipping at her ankles while she unbound everyone.

"I never liked that girl," her father placed a hand on her head. "As soon as I figure out how to change her back, I shall expel Miss Parkinson."

"I think I like her better this way," Neville said, watching Deirdre pick up Pug-Pansy.

"You're not the only one," Hermione assured them. "Besides, I always did say she was a bitch."

The lot of them burst into laughter and Hiro emerged from behind the bookcase. Once again the whole world fell away as they looked into each other's eyes. Hiro brushed her cheek softly with his knuckles.

"You were amazing, Mi-chan," he smiled. "I love you."

"I love you too," Hermione breathed. "Never leave?"

"Never."

The two embraced and kissed. Hermione didn't know how long they kissed, but she didn't want it to ever end. It was perfect. But it didn't last as Scabbers nipped at Hermione's ankles. She turned her attention to the rat scurrying away through the stacks, Crookshanks's massive ginger form dashing off in pursuit.

"There's something wrong with your bloody cat, Hermione," Ron said. "I swear, the beast has it in for Scabbers!"

"No, Ron," Hermione said. "It's not Crookshanks there's something wrong with."

"What were you dreaming about?" Ron smirked.

Hermione woke up, no longer in the library, but in the Gryffindor common room, having fallen asleep to an open page of Animagi: Summoning the Beast from Within. The whole thing had been a dream. A really, really weird one. It seemed to just be a fantasy where Hermione was the one doing the rescuing rather than being rescued, but the bits with Scabbers and Crookshanks were just odd.

"I dreamt I transfigured Pansy Parkinson into a pug," Hermione sighed happily closing her eyes. "Let me saviour this."

"Well," Harry shrugged. "You always did say she was a bitch."

"Hey," Hermione rose an eyebrow and smirked. "That's my line."

Lines. Now that Hermione thought of it, even in her power fantasy, Harry got the best lines. Should it surprise her? Harry always had the best quips and insights, Hermione was just the smart girl waiting for her cue only to vanish once it had passed. She always thought she was fine with that role. But something about Harry getting the best lines even in her fantasies, it rubbed her the wrong way.

"Must have gotten the wrong script," Harry tapped her book. "McGonagall have you writing essays on Animagi too?"

"Year of the Animagus," Hermione sighed. "She's very excited about it, every year is doing a unit on them."

"How'd you know that?" Ron asked.

"Oh, I do this funny thing with my ears where I listen," Hermione said. "I hear it's the new thing."

"Hermione," Harry said trying not to smile. "Play nice."

"Oh, fine," she sighed rolling her eyes before becoming serious again. "Didn't you read the syllabus?"

Harry and Ron exchanged a confused look before shrugging and returning to their own papers.

"Sorry," she sighed returning to her own work, stirring her now cold tea thrice.

"Forgive me, Severus," Dumbledore peered at him over his gold half-moon spectacles. "But I'm afraid I don't see why you told him 'no'. I assumed you would see the offer as a good thing. I'm not sure if I'm more surprised by the offer or your refusal. It was very considerate of him."

"Oh, yes, poor, sweet Lupin was very considerate, indeed," Severus stopped pacing the legnth of Dumbledore's office. " 'I feel awful about tormenting you, Severus', 'let me lord the fact that I was appointed the position you wanted over you, Severus', 'Let me lord my moral superiority over you, Severus,' 'I know how to raise your bloody child better than you, Severus'! I honestly don't see why everyone seems to like him so much."

"You still don't?" Dumbledore asked, raising a pointed white eyebrow.

"Of course not," he scoffed. "He's self-righteous, arrogant, ignorant, and yet all the students and staff think he's some unassuming, kind soul."

Dumbledore's mouth twisted under his mustache as he ran a hand down his long white beard. "Might I ask you to consider that your analysis of the situation is perhaps a tad biased?"

"You mean because he nearly killed me when we were sixteen?" he asked. "I don't see how that could possibly colour my opinion of the man."

"Touche," he sighed.

"Regardless," Severus said. "That's not the core of my complaints. I don't trust him. Lupin is a werewolf, I know he can't help that, but it worries me. What worries me more is the chance there's still an attachment to his old chum. He's gotten Potter to like him and has an easy enough time to get him alone. That doesn't concern you at all?"

"We've talked about this before, Severus," he peered at him over his glasses again, and Severus swore he could see a bright blue flame dancing in his irises. "I trust him. And there are many people who have equally compelling reasons to be suspicious of you. I thought that might garner some sympathy from you."

"Because that man needs more sympathy," Severus spat as he took back to pacing. "Everyone feels sorry for him. Even Hermione. She doesn't trust him right now, but I can see her conviction wavering. She not only pities the man, but she-I cannot stand that man! She feels sorry for him, they have their little secret conversations in Japanese in front of me, he knows she has a boyfriend..."

"Why, Severus," Dumbledore chuckled. "Do I detect a trace of jealousy?"

"He's not her father!" he spat.

"That would be a 'yes'," Dumbledore smirked in amusement. "Severus, Lupin will never replace you."

"Jealous!" Severus scoffed. "I am merely worried about my daughter, headmaster. I feel nothing but contempt for the damn mongrel."

"Of course you don't,Severus," he sighed with that damned knowing twinkle. "How silly of me."

"Lupin, wait!" Severus called.

How strange it was that he was now the one chasing Lupin around. He easily caught up to the man, who was naturally sluggish and further slowed by the vast mountain of books he carried in his arms. For a brief moment it made him think of a younger Hermione coming to their living quarters from the library juggling a pile of books higher than she was tall.

They were both clever, studious and adored travel...I am not jealous of Remus Lupin!

"Severus?" Lupin stopped, his eyebrows knit in confusion. "I figured I'd be the last person you'd want to speak to after this afternoon. Is everything alright?"

Was everything alright? The man stared at him with an uncomfortable, but seemingly sincere, concern. Severus almost wanted rip himself from the pale green gaze. It was easier to see the man as a monster, and he was still upset about every comment he made about Hermione. A werewolf's concern for his underage daughter rubbed him the wrong way, but deep down, he knew there was no malice.

Still, he couldn't stand the man. He clearly still saw himself as morally superior to Severus, he set up the perfect scenario to humiliate him as an adult, he-after everything Lupin did in just one short month let alone during their adolescence, he should leave him to flounder!

Yet, I don't want to...

"I've reconsidered my position on taking your Friday classes," he said. "As it turns out, I have none to teach that afternoon and have nothing better to do. What classes will I be taking?"

"I really appreciate this, Severus," Lupin said.

"What years will I be teaching, Lupin?" he said.

"That afternoon I have three classes from the Ravenclaw-Gryffindor group," Lupin sighed. "Second year, fifth year, and third year, in that order."

"Do you have any lesson plans for me to work from?" he asked.

"Your understanding of the subject matter surpasses even my own," Lupin shrugged. "I trust you."

"Percy?!" Hermione gasped. "You dreamt you snogged Percy Weasley?!"

"Shut up!" Deirdre swatted her shoulder playfully. "I know it can't happen. He's got a girlfriend, and most boys don't go for-erm-girls like me."

Hermione found that hard to believe. Deirdre was stunning with her long strawberry-blonde wavy hair, tanned, freckled skin and wide blue-green eyes. Sure she was taller than even most boys her age, and she had no breasts to speak of, but Hermione didn't think that mattered. Hermione didn't have a crush on her like with Kaori, nor did she feel what she felt for Hiro, but she recognized she definitely could be attracted to her.

"Most boys are stupid," Hermione said. "You're lovely. And I think O'Malley likes you."

Deirdre's cheeks burned pink beneath her freckles before leaning in. "And I suppose you don't remember your dream again?"

"Actually," Hermione leaned in to whisper. "I remember it vividly. It was rather odd..."

"Wow," Deirdre said after hearing about Hermione's dream in vivid detail.

"I know!" Hermione groaned. "It's my fantasy and Harry gets the best lines. I'm just glad we're not doing dream interpretation in divination. Skylar would definitely have something to say about it."

"Hmm," Deirdre smirked. "You mean like they might say something about your chronically low self-esteem and complacency with Harry and Ron?"

"Deirdre Middle Name Delaney," Hermione teased. "You take that back right now."

"Well," Deirdre laughed. "If you're going to keep doing that, I'm going to have to decide on a middle name soon."

"Any thoughts?" Hermione asked.

"I think I like 'Willow'," she smiled thinking about the prospect of a new feminine middle name. "Or maybe 'Rose', 'ooh, or 'Hazel' and I think I like 'Rowan'."

"I suggest you pick one or you might beat out the monster of a name my father landed me with," Hermione teased.

"I think your full name's pretty," Deirdre shrugged.

"Sure thing, Deirdre Willow Rose Hazel Rowan Delaney," Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, dear," Deirdre said. "That is a mouthful. I'll let you know which one I choose."

The two girls burst into laughter before setting to work. Hermione had an easy time with the equations. She ran through the numbers and gave Deirdre her interpretation feeling rather competetant until it was Deirdre's turn to make some sense of Hermione's numbers. She felt terrible for Deirdre and wished there was something she could do to help. Help did arrive in the form of Professor Vector.

"Deirdre was doing everything right," Hermione insisted.

"I know," Vector said. "Delaney's equations are perfectly fine.I see you've had no luck getting information from your father, Miss Snape?"

"No, Professor," she said sheepishly.

"Here's what we'll do," Vector laid out paper on her clipboard. "Watch closely. We'll make an adjustment with a sixty day margin of error for your date of birth, like we do with your mother's name. We'll then read the interpretations for Leo, Virgo and Libra. It's quite a bit more work, but it's common enough for adoptees and children of estranged parents. It's entirely possible that your mother left before either knew she was pregnant and left you with your father months later, leaving him to guess when you were born. I've seen it before."

Hermione never thought of that. She never considered he just didn't know when she was born, and if she thought about it, he never talked about what she was like as a new born. So my mother just dumped me on him, that-that would explain a lot. The thought of her mother dumping her on him hurt, but she could see why it would make him so defensive at every mention of her, or compel him to lie to her. Though, he also wouldn't know when she was born if her birth parents gleefully handed her off to him either. Or if he did find me in an alley...

The bitch mother narrative hurt, but it hurt a hell of a lot less than the latter theories. Hermione turned her focus to the equations. Maths were easy, magic was easy, they both made sense to her. She let the equations sink in, letting herself dive into the warm, safe cocoon of academia where everything made sense. That security and comfort shattered when Vector read the Virgo interpretation for the dream.

"You suspect an enemy in your midst. They are hiding in plain sight. This enemy's truth will be revealed by that which you take for granted."

Severus watched the second year Ravenclaws and Gryffindors file into the room, some with their little faces screwed up in confusion, others growing pale in either disappointment or discomfort. Chatter dissolved by most of them as they took their seats. He noticed one Ravenclaw girl with long dirty-blonde hair spoke to two Gryffindor students with a dreamy smile while the red-haired girl and blond boy tried, rather unsuccessfully, to subtly suggest she shut up.

Of course, he thought before addressing the class. "Professor Lupin is feeling unwell and has asked me to take his classes this afternoon. I'm not sure what my colleague typically allows, but you lot are already all familiar with me and what I allow. I will not tolerate any of that 'our regular teacher' nonsense. Nor will I tolerate any mucking about or poor behaviour. And-" his eyes cast over Luna Lovegood, who stopped talking but took to drawing. Probably another cat-girl sketch. "You must pay attention. Am I understood?"

The class breathed a collective sigh of 'yessir' before the could begin. All save one petite blonde girl.

"Miss Lovegood," he sighed.

"Yes, Professor?" she smiled as if she'd done nothing wrong.

"Seeing as you are so advanced in this class that you seem not to need to pay attention," he said. "Perhaps you can come down to earth long enough to tell me where you left off. If you're capable."

Sniggering came from a number of students from both houses. Instead of shrinking in shame, Lovegood remained smiling. Ginny Weasley cast an indignant glare his way on the spacey girl's behalf. He was unsure if the girl expected him to wither under her gaze, but indignant glares were something of a regular occurrence, both as a disliked teacher and as a father of a pre-teen girl. The Weasley girl didn't seem to care that it wasn't working and kept her gaze.

"We were studying Kelpies, sir," Lovegood replied, still smiling.

"Kelpies then," he said opening his book to the chapter. "Who can tell me where they are typically found? Miss Weasley?"

"Well," she said. "They're typically found in fresh bodies of water like lakes and streams. But there are green ones in the ocean."

"A Weasley that's done the reading," he remarked to another indignant glare. "That's about as rare as Atlantic Kelpies. Can anyone tell me how they prey on their victims? Mr. Creevey?"

The class progressed rather painlessly. The lesson did not go off without a hitch, but he managed to assign no detentions or any more than ten points taken from each house. It was much like a typical class, save for the lack of explosions and other such disasters. He covered the chapter, though if he were honest, he thought that second years were better off learning simple jinxes and counter curses. It would build a better foundation and be more practical, especially given the mystical pranks they liked to engage in. He kept that to himself, it was better than dealing with the potential winging if he were to criticise Lupin. And some strange thing compelled him, despite-or perhaps because of-Lupin's declaration of trust, to stick to Lupin's ill-conceived curriculum.

Despite Hermione's first instinct, she did decide to tell Skylar about her dream in divination, which she also had for fist period, in case they could help. She didn't like this at all. She felt like Harry. Harry was the one with important dreams and insights, and Hermione was supposed to be the one with the answers. She hated needing help, she felt less than. And like she was burdening Skylar, but she didn't know what else to do. Harry, Ron and Ginny were each dealing with their own thing, with Harry and Ron, it was a big thing, mass-murderer on the loose big, and she wanted to tell Luna. She wanted to tell Luna everything, but she didn't want to overwhelm her either. And she'd burdened Luna enough with her problems last year.

"Oh, my god," Skylar said. "Promise me you'll be careful. This could be really bad."

"W-wait, Skylar," Hermione said. "This-erm-I-I-I'm not a s-seer. I d-don't have prophetic dreams."

Skylar shook their head and sighed. "A mistake many make when they start dream interpretation. Dreams are manifestations of our waking life, Hermione. They're our way of working out our fears and anxieties, fantasies, and problem solving. You already know who the enemy is, you just haven't processed it on a conscious level. Please, be careful."

Hermione spent the rest of the day mulling over the finer details of her dreams. An enemy in plain sight-she already knew the answer, just not on a conscious level. Who did she harbour suspicions over? Lupin? No, he wasn't in her dream at all, so it couldn't be him. An indicator was someone or something she took for granted. She did take Luna and Ron for granted at times, which she realized with renewed feelings of crappiness. Did either of them say anything that could indicate an enemy? 'Ron is very funny, but also very mean' Hermione mulled over the words Luna had said both in the dream and in real life. However, Ron was an arse, but he wasn't an enemy. Ron made fun of her father...but he father wasn't a danger to her. He'd raised her.

She would get to DADA early and make nice with Lupin. If she could get him to talk, maybe he could give her some insights she hadn't considered. Ways his old schoolmate might be hiding in plain sight. That must have been it. Sirius Black was a danger, and getting Lupin's reflections on their youth together could give her some clues.

While I'm at it, I wonder if I can ask about Dad's old girlfriends...

Hermione entered the almost empty classroom after ensuring the time-turner was well hidden on her person and that she looked like someone who hadn't rushed into the classroom to beat the other students. She needed to be casual. She mulled over the lines she'd come up with thrice and opened her mouth to speak when she realized the man standing at the front of the classroom was not Lupin, but her father.

"Dad?" she knit her eyebrows in confusion.

He lifted his gaze from Mystical Defences to the Monstrous and Demonic and smiled at her, resting his hand on the top of her head. "You're rather early, aren't you, love?"

Hermione shifted the bag slung over her shoulder. "Professor Tran let us out early on account of good behaviour. I may even have a chance for parole."

"Good behaviour?" he smirked. "Now, I know Professor Tran can't be talking about my daughter."

"Well," she shrugged. "O'Malley, Vane and MacDonald were so well-behaved they made the rest of us look saints simply by proximity."

"I somehow doubt that," he feigned pensiveness. "What leads a little girl to forgo additional minutes of free time, I wonder?"

Hermione clasped her hands together and tried to keep her voice level. After Saturday, he would not be pleased that she wanted to speak with Lupin alone, but likely already knew that was why she was there. She wondered where the hell Lupin was. "Oh-erm-I-I was actually hoping to speak with Professor Lupin. I know, I know. It's just a stupid question about this Demonology essay he's assigned. Where is he?"

"I'm afraid Lupin has taken ill," he said stiffly. "He's asked me to take his afternoon classes."

Hermione bit her lip. Ill? She remembered the potion her father left for Lupin, and every nasty thing he'd ever said about him. But her father would never poison a colleague. Not over some stupid appointment...but he was irrational when it came to Hermione's safety, and beyond loathing Lupin, he suspected he posed a threat. And there was the dream Hermione had. An enemy in plain sight...

"Nothing serious, he'll be better in a few days," he assured her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I can help you, love."

"It's a really stupid question," Hermione faltered with a forced laugh. "Whatever you're imagining won't be half as stupid. I'd rather you keep whatever notion you have that I might possess some level of intellect."

"Nonsense, love," his smile was forced now too. "I'm your father. You can ask me anything."

Because that's been true before, Hermione thought bitterly. "Actually, the others will probably be here soon. Probably best we switch to student-teacher mode. Compartmentalisation and whatnot."

"Indeed," he said slowly watching others file into the classroom. "Take your seat then."

Hermione did so without further word. To argue with him would be useless. She hoped as she took her seat between the twins that he would simply ignore her. I should have just made up a question when he asked if he could help...

"For those of you just arriving," her father addressed the last minute stragglers. "Professor Lupin is incapable of holding class today, leaving me to pick up the slack."

That's a far cry from 'Lupin has taken ill and asked me to cover his afternoon classes'.

"I'm afraid the dear professor has left me with no lesson plan to speak of-"

"Oh, we were on demonic perversion of spirits, sir," Josh Cohen volunteered missing Angelina's uncomfortable shifting beside him and her father's icy glare.

"Don't interrupt me, Cohen," he snapped. "I was commenting on Professor Lupin's complete lack of organization. Now, I'm sure some of you-" his gaze lingered on Hermione and any wish of being ignored was gone. "Might prefer his abysmal curriculum and treatment of the subject. I expect first years to tackle a boggart, and a fringe topic such as demonology is simply a disservice to OWL students. We'll cover more common threats to our kind, and I won't tolerate more mucking about. Do any of you little morons know anything about werewolves?"

"Werewolves?" Lee protested. "But we were-"

"I'm taking this class, Jordan," he snapped. "And I believe I asked not to be interrupted. That'll be ten points from Gryffindor and Ravenclaw for Cohen and Jordan's impression that they are taking this class."

"What happened?" Fred whispered in Hermione's ear.

"And a further ten for Weasley's chatting!" he spat. "You will turn to page 375, you will read the segment in complete silence and we will discuss the chapter. And you will do it now!"

Hermione didn't need to be told twice she flipped to the chapter to reread it for the fourth time. Curse transmitted through bites while transformed, the tail and snout differed slightly from Eurasian Grey wolves, and was twice the size of one, the beast is in control during the night of the full moon and the person is none the wiser to what happens during the transformation. Unless they achieve a connection with the wolf, which is difficult and has only been known to happen twice. According to the book there was no cure nor treatment and it conveyed with disturbing frankness the various how to kill a human being suffering from a curse. Hermione was grateful for the wolfsbane potion Saiyaka wrote about, and wished they would update the damn book.

"Stop reading," her father instructed adopting his most intimidating posture. "If you haven't finished the chapter I shall write your parents and advise them that they need to teach you to read."

Hermione shrank as her father's black eyes combed the classroom. The tension was so thick Hermione wasn't sure how any of them were breathing in the atmosphere.

"Ah, Hermione, dear," he said. "Oh, sorry, compartmentalisation."

Hermione felt the glares of her fellow pupils on her and forced her head down as low as it could go without touching the desk. She couldn't make herself small enough, and she knew his treatment of them would be reflected in the class's treatment of her. Even if he was already dragging her out in front of her peers. If Hermione hurt him she was sorry, but wasn't he supposed to be a grown-up about this? Well, grown-ups are hardly ever grown-up in my experience...

"Tell me, miss, " his voice sent chills down her spine. "What's the difference between a werewolf and a real wolf? Though I understand if you'd rather speak to Professor Lupin on the matter."

"Twice the size of a Eurasian Greywolf, the snout is wider and the tail is upright and curved," Hermione spoke in dead tones but felt her blood boil. "Oh, and they're human beings twenty-nine days out of the month. They don't really emphasise that in the text."

"Because sympathy for monsters is how bleeding heart idiots get themselves killed," he snarled. "That'll be twenty points from Gryffindor, Hermione. Ten for your cheek and another ten for being an insufferable, self-righteous, little know-it-all."

Hermione's heart dropped to her feet. He'd been so sweet just moments before. She understood that, Hermione was his precious little girl until the instant she did something he didn't approve of. Then she was a burden to be endured. But he'd never been so callous as to call her out to this extent, especially not in front of her classmates. He knew how hard it was for her to get by, he knew how hard it was to be scorned, mocked and bullied for her, and how vulnerable her connection to him and being two years younger than everyone else was. How could he- I've never called him out in front of others either...What if this is all my fault?

Hermione wasn't sure if she was angry or sad, or if she blamed him or herself. All she knew was that she was grateful for the long hair that she could hide behind as tears stung her eyes. She stared at her clasped hands, noticing red droplets forming beneath her finger nails before she felt it.

"I expect an essay on how to identify and kill a werewolf handed in to me on Monday," he explained. "It will be at least two rolls of parchment in length. And I will not tolerate enormous hand-writing to make up for space. You idiots are dismissed."

"Gee, thanks, Hermione," Ivy MacDonald hissed in her ear as class went out.

"Stop being a bitch, Ivy," Angelina demanded.

"It's fine, Angelina," Hermione whispered.

"Who died?" Ron asked from the third-year Gryffindor line.

They have no idea! "Harry, Ron, Neville!" she whispered, pulling all three of them into a huddle. "You three might want to skive."

"You want us to skive?" Ron scoffed feeling her forehead. "Are you quite well?"

"Still don't trust Lupin?" Harry asked. "Snape's got you brainwashed, Lupin's fine."

"No, Harry," Hermione breathed. "Lupin's out sick, it's being covered by my father. He's in a really bad mood. You three need to get gone before he-"

"Hermione," her father's voice came from behind her. "I do believe your advancement means any business you have with this lot is strictly after class hours. You should run along to class."

"Yessir," Hermione nodded, avoiding eye contact.

Before she left, Hermione heard he father's voice as he shut Harry, Ron, Neville and the others in the room with him.

"For those of you wondering where Professor Lupin is, it seems he is not up to the task. The man is abysmally disorganised and left me with no lesson plan-"

Hermione didn't need to hear the rest of it. She wiped her eyes and collected herself before heading to her next class.