Chapter Six
"So, what are your plans today?"
"Good morning, Lily," Hermione greeted, over the sizzling sound of bacon hitting the pan. "I just finished prepping tea if you would like some. If not, your coffee pot should be done at any moment."
Hopping up on her counter, the redhead did what had always made Hermione bristle at Ron as she claimed the teacup she had prepared for herself and took a sip.
"Mmm… this is good. Sweet, but good. Is there any caffeine in this?"
"No," she responded tightly, pulling the second cup and saucer to her.
"Oh don't do that; you'll create more dishes. Just finish this one." Passing the cup off, Lily jumped down and scooted around Hermione to the coffee pot that was coming to a hissing stop. "I'll take a grownup breakfast drink and maybe we can go enjoy a real cuppa this afternoon before the boys are done with training. Then that way I can keep my eye on you around James," she winked, though it did nothing to diminish her thinly veiled possessiveness . "You seem very taken with him."
"Despite what you seem to think, I'm not interested in your boyfriend or whatever he is to you," she responded, holding the other witch's luminescent green eyes as she flicked her wand to the teacup and sent it to the sink before remaking her own in an untouched cup. "Believe me, you can keep James. All I ask is that you don't touch my tea." Heading out of the kitchen with her cup in hand, she added, "You may want to flip that before it burns. I'm going to change."
"Wait! You have plans this morning?"
Closing her eyes and taking half a second to remind herself that while in the moment she'd enjoy it, she'd feel terribly guilty afterwards for slapping her friend's mother, Hermione simply replied, "Yes," hoping to leave it at that.
"Who could you possibly have plans with? You only know myself and the boys. I thought we could lounge around the telly until midday and then hit the shops."
"I need to fill out my employment forms at Between the Covers, then after I'm going to Hogwarts."
"Oh, that ridiculous little bookshop? Why don't you just wait for the SEAL scores you were handed by Dumbledore to transfer to NEWTs and do something with those?"
Finally turning around to face the passive aggressive witch, Hermione lost a tendril of her temper causing a spark of magic to pop off one her loose curls, and said, "Because unlike you, I can't sit around all day painting my nails, brushing my glossy hair, and reading Witch Weekly or whatever frivolous, self-indulgent, inane activities you get up to during the day.
"I've lost everything and am stuck here. So, since I don't have an obscenely wealthy wizard putting me up in a central Diagon Alley flat, I need to make an actual life for myself. Maybe then, I can help those whom I left behind because in case it has escaped the notice of your pretty little head, we are about to be at war!" Smelling the burning bacon, she huffed as she vanished the mess and finished, "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get ready so I can head over to that 'ridiculous little bookshop,' and then to Hogwarts. Otherwise I'm going to be late meeting Regulus."
Stomping down the hallway, she slammed her bedroom door closed behind her but not before Lily could fire off, "For such a judgmental bitch, you sure are hanging onto Sirius's brother quite tightly. I'm sure those ancient vaults would have nothing to do with that though given your holier than thou attitude, right?"
"You want him? Take him, you money hungry slag," she muttered, instantly regretting her cruel and demeaning words towards Harry's mother.
It wasn't her fault she had been placed on a pedestal of muggleborn and motherly perfection after her untimely death. And it wasn't her fault that she was stuck in the past. She had been kind enough to offer up sharing her flat with a virtual stranger, so she knew the kindness to which Remus and others spoke about had to be in there somewhere. It was just that something about Hermione's first and subsequent impressions made Lily bury it down deep. In turn, the redhead brought out a truly ugly and shameful side in herself, leaving her exhausted before the day had even truly begun. But no matter how much she wished to blow off Regulus for the day in favor of being a time hermit, she couldn't. And the tingling sensation in her right hand that sprung to life at the mere fleeting thought, was an irksome reminder as to why.
While the younger Black brother hadn't roped her into anything even in the same neighborhood of an Unbreakable Vow, their agreement had produced a magic that seared itself into her skin. It's annoyance making itself known the morning after her arrival when she had elected to pretend having never received the post he had addressed to her, new name and all.
After being dragged by Lily to no less than two dozen shops with Remus, James, and Sirius in tow - each with varying levels of indulgence and exasperation - they had returned to the other witch's flat to deposit the excessive shopping Hermione had been forced to partake in before going out to dinner. Lily had been elated upon finding the beautiful, light absorbing, black cob and gleaming, white pen snuggled together on her coffee table, throwing her arms around James and giddily announcing how she forgave him for whatever had transpired the night prior. However when he had tersely said it wasn't from him and Remus had piped up saying maybe it was for her as she now lived there too, Hermione's fate with the witch who reminded her more of a disingenuous version of Lavender than herself as others had said in her own time had been sealed.
Needing less than two hands to count the number of people who knew of her, she had cautiously approached the mated pair, casting every diagnostic and revealing spell she knew, wishing she had paid better attention to the ones Professor Snape had cast on the necklace that had cursed Katie Bell earlier in the school year. Finding nothing, she had tentatively reached her fingers out to stroke their beaks, mindful of her knowledge about how territorial and possessive cobs could be over their pens. As her fingers grazed the fiery red bill of the cob, the both of them transfigured into a shower of blush colored rose petals that had her smiling in awe at the magic; her grin stretching even more as the petals split off to form a gold and mirrored vase filled with a lush and fragrant bouquet while the others gathered into a letter written on the softest cotton stationery she had ever touched.
Her wonder hadn't lasted long though as she picked up the pearlescent envelope and mistakenly read aloud, For the Future Lady Black, in timeless calligraphy and beneath it, Yes, I do mean you, Hermione Lukovë. In response, Sirius had barked with laughter over his brother's supposedly besotted nature; Remus, with his left eye dilating to allow his wolf senses through, had plucked the envelope from her hands, running his nose over the edge with deep inhales, going as far as to lick the side and wax seal in puzzlement before confirming it's pure, unmalicious nature; and Lily having dropped all pretense of even attempting to befriend Hermione, had flounced off to her room in a snit with James apologizing on her behalf before begrudgingly going after her where their raised but unintelligible voices could be heard until one of them had thrown up a Silencing Charm.
It had been the next morning - a little over what she estimated to be about twelve hours after activating his admittedly impressive magic - that she had woken up to the feeling of pins and needles pricking her skin. She had shaken out her hand, trying to dispel what she had thought was a numb limb. But as the minutes ticked by with no relief and her mind slowly unfogged from sleep, she began to realize the signs of binding magic at play. Cursing his entire inbred existence, she had thrown the duvet and sheets back, muttering about her own stupidity as she went and collected the letter and flowers that had refused to remain in the bin or vanish under her wand. Thus had begun her daily correspondence for the last week with Regulus Black, who had yet to name his favor and release her from their annoying contract, instead favoring her company over any silly advantage he could ask of her .
Not overly skilled with more than simple cosmetics, Hermione kept her face bare except for a few strokes of mascara and a swipe of gloss over her lips after dressing in a slouchy shoulder, oversized, oatmeal colored jumper and a delicate tulle skirt in an all seasons shade of pink that fell several inches above her knee. With her curls piled in an unintentionally messy bun, she secured the mass of hair with a matching length of tulle, tying it with a bow at the base of her hairline, and added Professor Snape's Sticking Charm for good measure. Then acting as a cowardly lion instead of a witch who had dueled with Death Eaters more than twice her age, she peeked her head out of her door to verify that Lily had sequestered herself across the way in her own room.
Deeming herself safe from potentially assaulting Harry's mother, she darted out to the coat closet and collected the grey suede boots she had worn out with Remus the night prior. They had run into each other on her way to Knockturn Alley in search of the more deadly ingredients involved in brewing the not yet invented Wolfsbane and ever the gallant wizard, he had steadfastly refused to allow her to venture through the dark shops unescorted. Tugging the boot's tall legs over her knees so only a small section of her thigh remained exposed, she grabbed her knapsack and hesitantly counted a single galleon and modest handful of sickles that she toted around from the admittedly hefty coin purse Theo had sent her back in time before dropping them back into the front pocket. She knew she was being frivolous in buying a genre fiction book a day to occupy her time until she officially began her job and finally started carrying out tasks for the Order, but she also knew stopping at Between the Covers meant her eye would inevitably be caught by yet another guilty pleasure book that she would devour that afternoon.
And though she had just snipped at Lily for it, she had come to enjoy her idle days of reading curled up in the flat's window seat. Though she was alone even when surrounded by her living ghosts, the hours in the winter sun allowed her a moment to finally feel a sense of serenity; something that had been lacking from her life at Harry's side for the last several years. It was always a fleeting moment though; for as soon as she felt like someone else could lift her burden and allow her to just be a girl in want of fantasies, daydreams, and a life unhindered by obligations bigger than her own wishes, the weight of her reality returned and with it, the guilt of having selfishly stolen that time.
"Hermione, are you still here?" Lily called, making her shoulders tense. "I think I'd like to join you in the Alley and possibly see McGonagall while you're off winning Regulus's affection."
Not bothering to check for anything more than her wand up her sleeve, Hermione tugged her bag over her shoulder and once more chose the option that would make Godric roll over in his grave as she dashed out the door. Tomorrow; tomorrow she would try again with befriending Harry's mother. And if that endeavor continued to fail, then she would finally count out the money Theo had given her and see if there was enough to afford the rent on a small studio before hers and Dumbledore's plans began to take shape. She did hope however - at least sometimes when she was more charitable to her flatmate - that when she began working and she and Lily were no longer in each other's space and social circle twenty-four seven, that she and Harry's mother could grow to genuinely get along. In the meantime, she would avoid their constantly simmering confrontation as best she could. Even if it meant all but flying down the stairs of their walk up to tumble out onto the shop lined street in search of escape.
When she had seen the quaint, emerald green painted exterior of Between the Covers for the first time while shopping with Professor McGonagall and her parents prior to starting at Hogwarts, Hermione had instantly fallen in love. Its carpets were plush, its corners filled with armchairs and loveseats that seemed to hug its patrons, and the surprising addition of small tea services appearing in the sitting areas in the afternoon had secured it a place in her heart. It was potentially the only relic of 1997 she still had untainted access to in 1979, and as such, she had immediately sought the place out her first afternoon in the past. And while she didn't believe in the ridiculous idea of destiny and fate despite seeing the Hall of Prophecies for herself, she had felt it to be an auspicious moment when she arrived in time to see the proprietor, Mrs. Libby Larson, putting out a Help Wanted sign.
However the feeling at home vanished as she came up the cobblestone street - her hands wrapped around the long straps of her bag, pulling it up on her back as she rocked up on her toes - and finally took notice of the sapphire blue shop across the way and its gold lettering: Bespoke Brews. Closing her eyes, she tried to slow the increasing rate of her heart by reminding herself that while she now knew a young Professor Snape had worked for that particular apothecary, he was a contract brewer. He would have no reason to tend to the shop and its till. He probably didn't even bring in his own creations. After all, wasn't that what owls were for?
Taking a deep breath, she gripped her logic in one hand and her renewed confidence in being able to avoid temptation in the other, and held both close to her still erratic heart. Her self fortification was short lived however as the caressing tones of a voice that was as smooth as velvet drifted up the street. It was the same, though less polished, voice of the wizard whom she had regularly placed in the starring role of her orgasmic flights of fancy.
"Cissy, you're missing a very important point: I don't care that the old bastard is dying. Frankly, good riddance."
"Severus, you are absolutely heartless," his companion laughed melodiously.
"Well I guess the poisoned apple didn't roll as far as I would have liked."
"Oh, what about her? She looks just as sweet as your corrupted soul prefers."
Looking down the short street and realizing she was the only other her to be seen, Hermione quickly ducked into the bookshop and away from the windows.
Yes, I was most definitely mis-sorted, she silently sighed. Not a courageous bone to be found.
"Hermione? What in the name of the enchanted printing press are you doing down there?"
Shooting up so quickly that she bumped her head on a shelf that came out a tad further than the others, she stumbled, "Oh, well… umm… I was just uh… nothing."
"You're an odd one, ducky, but I like you." Waving her over, the greying witch said, "Come on behind the counter and into the office. You can start on your paperwork while I fill you in on the store's morning procedures. You are still good to do the open to close shift on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays from nine until seven, with the hour for lunch at one, right?"
"Yes ma'am, I am. Will you still need me for the closing six hours on Wednesdays?"
"Please call me Libby, dear. You say ma'am and I swear another three grey hairs sprout on this head of mine," she laughed. "And yes; Wednesdays we're open late for the knitting and book clubs - I know being a young witch you probably have a much more pleasant idea of how to spend an evening in the city but it would be such a help to me. So anyways, if you don't mind, I would like to schedule you from four until ten every week. And don't worry, once that clock strikes, you just close down and usher us old bitties out like gnomes in the garden."
Chuckling at the still relatively young witch's insistence that she was old, Hermione said, "Well you didn't mention anything about Wednesdays being for book and knitting clubs. My skill is atrocious but you may just need to hire more help for when I insert myself into your ladies' groups."
"No, I forbid it! No wasting your pretty youth with us spinsters.
"In fact, now that I think about it, I believe Mr. Alder across the way employs an exceptionally young Potions Master. I should ask after his age for you. Cale regularly refers to the young man as a prodigy. Graduated Hogwarts last summer with some eight or nine NEWTs, all with marks of Outstanding, and only a single term left on his Mastery. I swear the way that man goes on about him, you'd think he was the old codger's son and not his employee."
Inelegantly scratching the quill across the signature box as she accented the in E in her new last name, she begged, "Please don't."
"You're no fun," Libby sighed. "But if you change your mind, I would be more than happy to make introductions on your behalf."
"I won't," she assured, pulling out her wand to clear away the mess she had made of the forms.
After filling in blanks, checking boxes, and practicing her new signature on more sheets of parchment than she ever thought employment at a bookshop would have required, Hermione was carefully but hurriedly leaving Between the Covers and pointedly avoiding giving even half a glance towards Bespoke Brews. Having grown up so close to London, she had always thought the world was a rather large place; that people could go about their day never seeing the same person twice, let alone someone they distantly knew. And maybe it was. Or maybe the condensed population of the Wizarding World only made it seem as such. Either way, with the one person she most wanted to avoid working mere steps from her own place of employment, Wizarding London felt microscopic and she wasn't sure what was going to give first: probability or her resolve and curiosity. Thankfully luck was on her side though, so whether he was still in the other shop or not, Hermione was able to slip back into the main Alley, where she faded in with the late morning rush of shoppers and ladies preparing to do lunch on her way to the Leaky Cauldron.
Then after taking several moments to sip a butterbeer at Tom's counter since she felt bad coming in only to use his floo despite that being the primary purpose of his pub, she threw a pinch of ash into the hearth and called for the Hog's Head. Stepping out after being swirled through the disorienting connection and tempting her still delicate system after her sojourn through time, she greeted Aberforth - a surprising development since nothing she had read on Dumbledore in all her years of learning about the Wizarding World mentioned him having a brother - and siphoned off the residual soot as she bent down to pet the goat that always seemed to be milling about regardless of the decade.
"How's the pub today?"
Gesturing around the sticky floored establishment with its three patrons, he said, "Dirty, decrepit, and delightful; same as always."
"Nice to know some things never change," she hummed, standing back up. "Thank you for allowing me to use your floo connection."
"Better than letting you walk up to the school dressed like that."
"And just what is wrong with my clothes?"
"Your clothes ain't the problem; it's your footwear. Not fit to be tromping around those ice packed pathways out there. Besides, haven't you heard? People have started to go missing. Not enough to raise a panic yet but you live through one war, you recognize the signs of when something sinister is brewing."
"Don't I know it," she muttered, nodding her thanks as he lifted the bar top up for her so she could climb the stairs to his private flat. "I'll see you later this afternoon, Aberforth."
"Don't forget Pan's peaches."
"I would never, " she gasped with feigned scandal. "After all, that is a part of our bargain. Your connection to Hogwarts in exchange for an unlimited supply of peaches and bananas, for the ageless Pan."
"Yeah, yeah, get out of here," he chuckled, before snapping, "Whatcha want?" At whoever had dared step up to the counter and interrupt him.
Taking another pinch of powder, Hermione called out for Albus's office followed by the whispered password of, "Ariana."
Managing to still be as graceless stepping out of the hearth from the short trip as she had been from her longer one, she gripped the mantle above her and rested her other hand over her stomach. Partially bent over, she studied the fibers of the carpet while concentrating on finding the sweet spot between too shallow and too deep of breathing that would help save her from an embarrassing episode.
"Still experiencing side effects of your travel," Dumbledore observed.
"Yes. They continue to slowly recede but in Madame Pomfrey's last letter she said it could be another week or two before I'm back to normal."
"Hmm… that could put a damper on things."
Standing up, she checked the clock and decided to risk being late for her meeting with Regulus and took the seat opposite the Headmaster's desk.
"What are you planning?" She asked bluntly, dropping her bag to the floor beside her.
Reclining back as much as the ostentatious, throne-like desk chair allowed, he steepled his fingers in front of him and answered with a question of his own.
"What do you know of a Dolores Umbridge; currently an aide in the Minister's office."
"She's a vile, bigoted woman, not just over blood but all creatures she deems to be lesser. In fifteen years, she'll be Under Secretary to the Minister - wait, is Fudge the current Minister?" She asked, interrupting herself as she realized the simple things she should be able to answer even as a supposedly foreign transplant.
"Currently we are presided over by Harold Minchum and have been since '75. Though I do believe that will change come this year's election given the rising hysteria over Voldemort."
"Harold Minchum…" she repeated, committing the answer to memory. "As for Umbridge, what exactly do you wish to know? I have an entire school year's worth of information I could give you but it may speed things up if you're more forthcoming with what you want."
"As reprehensible as bigotry is, narrowmindedness isn't a crime. Terroristic allegiances however, that is. Do you believe she's a credible ally of Tom?"
"Without a doubt. She wishes to suppress and cleanse the entire magical world, making it pure. She is or will be, as unstable as Vol- Tom. She sent Dementors after Harry in an attempt to kill him because his celebrity could not be silenced when he began speaking out about You-Know-Who having returned. Ten months later, after a slanderous campaign against you both, she nearly Crucioed him because Professor S- our Potions Professor, could not supply her with Veritaserum having already exhausted his supply." Removing the glamour on her hand she held it out for Dumbledore and continued, "Black Quills; her idea of detention for those who defied her or were beneath her caste structure."
"Sacred Hallows," he softly swore, rubbing his thumb over the raised letters. Slightly louder, he commended, "Your Charm work is excellent; very subtle. I didn't even realize you had concealments in place."
"I learned that smoothing out the imperfection is key. Glamours can be sensed if you're heavily altering an appearance. Simply blending what exists into your current self, makes the magic it gives off appear as though it's just the wearer's natural power. You're not completely unmared but whatever you wish to hide cannot be noticed without a much more attentive eye."
"Remarkable. If you do decide to follow through on the ambition you pretend to have, you will be a force of nature."
Taking her hand back and returning her glamour, she shrugged, "Not all ambition is for power, fortune, and fame, Professor."
"Very wise of you, Miss Lukovë."
Hearing the clock tower begin to chime the hour nearly in time with the renewed prickling in her hand, Hermione collected her bag ready to excuse herself. Pulling the straps on, she advised, "Whatever your plans for Umbridge, do it. Do it without remorse. She'll retaliate against the disenfranchised either way. May as well make what we go through as students under her rule worth it.
"Now if you'll excuse me, I have a… lunch date… with your Head Boy."
"Keep him close, Hermione. Regulus may yet prove to be an ally in your masquerade."
"I plan to. Not that he's given me much say in the matter."
"Oh and one other thing before you go," he said, stopping her as she reached the door. "Alastor and I have plans to have the Order ambush Dolores Umbridge on her way home from the Ministry tomorrow evening. Most involved have a more traditional idea of war and favor the notion of leaving witches behind for fear of what could happen if they fall into enemy hands."
"And you?" She asked, already knowing the answer.
"Sex is irrelevant; strength and capability are. And you, Hermione, have both in quantities that would be alarming if you were allied elsewhere. If you wish to join - and the decision is entirely your own - and are not too discombobulated, please be here tomorrow at four sharp," Dumbledore responded, handing her a slip of parchment with the words, The Order convenes at Potter Manor; 7359 Ocean's Drop, Dorset, England, written across in still drying ink, the paper going up in flames within seconds of her having taken it.
"I'll see you then, Albus."
"Wonderful, I'll have Remus to escort you since you are not yet able to Apperate. Now, go enjoy your date, Hermione. I imagine come dinner everyone will be talking about your impending nuptials to young Mister Black," he dismissed with mischievous mirth dancing in his eyes.
"Oh I can see it now," she dreamed, clasping her hands together and batting her lashes. "Me and Regulus; his muggleborn hating mother; you and Voldemort with all your respective followers filling the pews. It'll be like Romeo and Juliet come to life. Only I'll probably kill him before I ever make it down the aisle."
"Stranger things have occurred. Love is a powerful thing."
"Not a Death Eater falling in love with a muggleborn strange.
"Regardless, I'll be sure to keep Regulus as close as I can - within reason that is. If nothing else, his presence will help bolster my alter ego's standing in society." Shaking out her hand, she opened the door and said, "Now I really have to get going before this stupid contract gets any more upset with me."
"I can remove that for you if you'd like."
"As much as I want to take you up on that, I think it's more beneficial for us to see what he wants with me for the time being."
"Whatever you wish, Miss Lukovë. Enjoy lunch, I requested the elves prepare a small feast for you. A taste of home as it were."
"Thank you, Professor," she said quietly, crossing his office and surprising him by hugging him where he still sat. "For everything."
Finally leaving the Headmaster's office, Hermione crossed paths almost immediately with Regulus on the spiral stairs.
"Regulus," she greeted stiffly.
Taking her hand and kissing her knuckles, he gave her a Cheshire smile as he said, "You're looking particularly enticing today, Lady Black. Did you dress for anyone of importance?"
"Oh knock it off, Regulus. Let's get this over with," she grumbled, trying to shake her hand free.
Keeping hold of her hand and threading it through his arm, he jested, "Whatever Milady wishes, I shall provide," leading her down the stairs just as the halls began flooding with students, drawing everyone's eye to them.
Rumors of a wedding by dinner was far too generous, she thought as she fought to not hide her face in his side or shove him off of her as he once again referred to her as Lady Black; this time within earshot of a cluster of gossiping witches.
"I'm going to maim you for this," she seethed in his ear.
"Lies; you'll love me. Just wait and see."
"Don't hold your breath." Pulling back, she smiled at him, "Actually, do. I'll count to a million."
"Oh I cannot wait to hear all about when you two meet," he laughed. "You're going to knock him on his arrogant arse and it's going to be spectacular."
"I've already your brother, you know. And thus far he's given me no reason to kick him in the knee."
"All in due time, little pen," was his maddening response. "All in due time."
And as she sat down to eat and converse as privately as they could in the Great Hall, she couldn't decide if he had spoken his words as a promise or a threat. Worse yet, was that despite her better judgement, she found herself curious of his regularly cryptic speech either way.
AN:
As you saw, Severus made a small cameo this chapter. However, because he and Hermione did not see each other nor interact with one another, this is not his actual, introduction to the story. He will appear in the NEXT chapter and once he does, we will be switching back to dual point of view and him sharing an equal part in being a star of the story.