"The Boy Who Lived." It seemed almost impossible to find even a single image of the supposedly famous boy. Hermione turned the worn page of a faded newspaper in one of the many abandoned rooms of the house. Just who was Harry Potter, her father's godson?
In the two weeks since his return, she hadn't seen much of the man. He spent most nights at a friend's house, a fact that clearly displeased Walburga, making Sirius all the happier as he departed, bags in both hands. When Sirius discovered that his godson was residing with his aunt and uncle, he raged for days, even giving his mother a run for her money. Kreacher had been busy scrubbing the last of the charred marks from the walls around the house. The other two Blacks were equally unhappy with Sirius' frequent disappearances, scolding him every time he failed to escape the oppressive atmosphere of the house. Hermione quickly realized that Sirius Black detested the place even more than she did. She couldn't blame him.
The clock on the wall chimed once, signalling that it was time to get ready. There was a reason she had researched the Boy Who Lived. Today, she would finally meet him. A few nights ago, Sirius had boldly declared that he would bring Harry here, much to Walburga's chagrin. Arcturus had returned to his own home, but Hermione suspected he wouldn't approve of the plan either. Judging by the screaming match that had ensued, it was clear that Harry Potter was a highly sensitive topic. First, there was Albus Dumbledore, her headmaster, who had placed Harry with his less-than-friendly relatives in the first place—a fact that took Sirius days to come to terms with. Then there was the issue of Harry's mother being a Mudblood. As far as Hermione understood, that meant her parents had been like hers—Muggles.
Hermione sighed as she descended the stairs, where her father awaited her, looking considerably healthier than when he had first arrived. His unruly curls mirrored her own as she came to a halt next to him. "Hermione, there you are. Ready?"
He tried. Even a blind man could tell that Sirius was still uncomfortable in her presence, his gaze continually shifting away from her face, and his hands clenched tightly inside his trousers' pockets. Hermione felt the all-too-familiar pit of unease in her stomach as she nodded silently.
"Great. Would you-?" He extended his hand, forcing a strained smile.
"Where are we meeting, Harry?" she inquired, attempting to break the uncomfortable silence that followed.
"He's waiting for us at the Leaky Cauldron," her father explained before Hermione took his hand.
The world swirled around her, and they reappeared in the dimly lit entrance of a pub. Abruptly releasing her father's hand, she craned her neck to take in the entire room. Her parents would throw a fit if they knew Sirius had brought her to such a place. The heavy scent of smoke and beer assaulted her senses. "Is it really okay for you to bring me here?" she questioned Sirius, who responded with a cheeky grin. Hermione was taken aback by the carefree expression on his face.
"Don't worry, kid, this is a reputable establishment," he assured her, guiding her through a group of chattering witches before veering sharply to the right toward a far corner of the pub.
It didn't take long to spot the lone boy sitting below a stained window a few tables ahead. "Harry! I hope that isn't Butterbeer in that mug of yours."
Sirius was positively beaming, and suddenly Hermione felt like an intruder. She wasn't certain if she still wanted to meet the obvious favourite of the two. The black-haired boy chuckled at his godfather's comment, evidently accustomed to this unfamiliar personality Sirius had suddenly adopted. Sirius had smiled more in the few minutes since they had entered the pub than he had during the entire two weeks back at home.
"Don't worry, I went straight for the strong stuff," Harry replied, sounding amiable.
"That's what I wanted to hear!" Sirius exclaimed as he settled in next to Harry, leaving Hermione to slide onto the opposite bench.
"Harry, meet my amazing daughter, Hermione," her father proclaimed, slinging an arm around the scrawny boy's shoulders. Shouldn't this introduction have been the other way around?
"Nice to meet you, Hermione. I'm Harry."
She shook his hand, her tone unintentionally condescending. "I gathered," she replied, her words sounding sharper than intended.
"Er, yeah, sorry. Seems like I'm more nervous than I thought," Harry stammered, rubbing his neck as Sirius subtly raised an eyebrow.
Suppressing her unwarranted animosity toward the other boy, she mustered a smile. "I didn't mean to be rude. I'm genuinely excited to meet you too."
"Sorry to keep you waiting. Are you hungry?" Sirius interjected.
Harry shook his head. "I had a sandwich before you picked me up."
So, Sirius had picked up Harry first. Hermione clenched her fists under the table.
"Good, good. Are you two ready for some exploring?" Sirius inquired, his excitement palpable. He hadn't even considered asking Hermione if she wanted to grab something to eat before they left. She had skipped breakfast to read up on Harry today.
Ignoring her grumbling stomach, Hermione followed the two to the back of the pub. She was taken aback by the many hostile glares her father received on their way through the winding corridors. She thought she even heard someone curse after him. Standing a bit farther back, Sirius withdrew his wand and tapped it against a brick wall in a peculiar pattern, utterly unfazed by the curious stares.
"Welcome to Diagon Alley, kids!"
Her jaw dropped in amazement as the wall moved aside, revealing a bustling street lined with crooked houses and the most peculiar store signs she had ever seen. She had heard Walburga mention this place when they had ordered her new wardrobe, but she could never have imagined it feeling so enchanting. Nothing about the people or shops seemed familiar. Her heart surged; this was her life now.
"Wow, this is-" Harry was equally speechless as they stepped through the wall.
"Magical? I know, I know. Wait until you see the broom store," Sirius remarked, keeping them close as he skilfully navigated through the bustling street.
Hermione wasn't really interested in broomsticks, but as long as they planned to visit other places, she was okay with looking at them. Sirius shared stories with Harry about his father being one of the best Chasers he had ever known, whatever that meant, while Hermione continued to soak in the scenery. A joyful family rushed past them, their two young children heading toward what appeared to be a candy shop, judging by the colourful decorations.
After a few minutes, they finally reached the broom store, and Hermione watched Harry's eyes instantly light up. Sirius smiled warmly at the boy's enthusiasm, but it only served to deepen the chasm she felt between herself and her father at that moment. Despite their shared blood, Sirius seemed like a stranger.
"Sirius Black, so they really got you out," a voice piped up behind them, causing Hermione to whirl around to identify the speaker. Her eyes landed on an imposing man and, presumably, his son. Blonde hair, blue eyes. Vain. Was the first thing that came to her mind as she examined the two strangers.
"Malfoy, what a not-so-pleasant surprise. I see you still haven't found someone to take care of that ridiculous haircut," her father mocked, eliciting a gasp from Hermione at his rude comment. Harry appeared equally taken aback by his behaviour.
"The Ministry must have truly lost its mind to let a man like you walk free," Malfoy drawled, his eyes then wandering over Harry and her. "I was under the assumption you had disgraced your house only once before they locked you up."
Sirius bristled. "Keep away from my kids if you know what's good for you, Malfoy," he growled, pushing the two children behind him.
"Hermione Black. Arcturus told me quite a bit about you," the blonde man continued, causing Hermione's pulse to quicken. Walburga's countless lessons echoed in her mind as she dipped her head in a formal greeting.
"Don't talk to him, Hermione," Sirius hissed, and she obediently closed her mouth, her cheeks burning with embarrassment as she followed her father's directive. She knew Walburga would throw a fit if she heard of Hermione's rudeness towards a Malfoy.
"No offence taken, my dear girl," Malfoy Sr. replied smoothly, his tone radiating condescension, "Draco, introduce yourself." The pale boy next to him flinched before reluctantly nodding his head.
"Draco Malfoy, a pleasure to meet you, Mr Black, Miss Black," Draco said, pointedly omitting Harry's name.
"Same goes for you, boy," Sirius responded icily, "Stay away from them."
Hermione was mortified by her father's rude behaviour and wished she could be anywhere but there at that moment. Apparently, Mr Malfoy had had enough as well. "Disgraceful. Draco, come," he sneered one final time at Sirius before turning around, his expensive coat swirling around his ankles. Draco mimicked his father's expression before following him.
"Annoying git. He somehow managed to get worse after school," Sirius scowled before refocusing his attention on Hermione and Harry. "The Malfoys are trouble. I want you to stay away from them, even in school, got it?"
Hermione couldn't understand his problem. "The Malfoys are a respectable family."
Sirius scowled even deeper. "Did my mother tell you that? From now on, just assume the complete opposite of whatever she tells you."
Hermione gaped at the man. Did he want her to get grounded for the rest of her life?
Rolling his eyes at her shocked expression, her father chuckled. "Don't worry, kid, as long as I'm here, she won't dare to throw a fit."
Hermione's indignation flared. He wasn't even home most nights; what did he know of Walburga's temper? Did he think she just stopped after he put that ring on his finger? Her throat constricted. The few times he didn't manage to run from his responsibilities, he spent hissing and yelling at his mother or holed up in his room. If Hermione was completely honest, he sometimes scared her just as much as her grandmother.
She watched the man lead Harry into the store. Did the boy even know about his godfather's other side? The bitter, vindictive man who had no qualms about attacking his own mother? Judging by his uncomfortable shuffling during their conversation with the Malfoys, she doubted it.
"Hermione, are you coming?" Sirius' call jolted her out of her whirling thoughts, and she quickly followed them. She was a strong girl. If Sirius didn't want to act like a father, then she'd accept that. She had a great dad waiting for her back at her real home anyway...