The crypt's cold stone walls seemed to absorb what little light flickered from the dim candles scattered around the room. The six hooded figures, draped in black tunics adorned with crimson details and peaked hoods, stood in a circle around an ancient-looking altar. On the altar lay a gleaming dagger, its blade reflecting the feeble light like a sinister promise. The figures began to recite in unison, their voices echoing through the shadowy chamber:

"When grief overtakes us

for a fallen brother,

when the sorrowful farewell

seeks its hope in faith.

In Your word, we trust

in the certainty that You

have already brought him back to life,

have already led him to the light."

As the final words hung in the air, the hooded figures slowly raised their hands and, slowly, pulled back their hoods, revealing familiar faces – Orion Black, Dorea Potter, Celine Greengrass, Lyall Lupin, Henri Rosier, and Eleanor Macmillan.

Dorea, the first to break the silence, stepped forward. "Orion, not at all dear nephew, why have you gathered us here?"

"Fuck you, Dorea, I know I'm your favorite nephew," he retorted, eliciting fake disgust from Dorea. "But to answer your question, Cain's order has new members.", Orion's eyes gleamed, causing a murmur of surprise among the group.

Lyall, a look of disbelief etched on his face, demanded, "Who are they?"

Orion's lips curled into a sly smirk as he responded, "I'm glad you asked, dear friend. The new members are none other than our children, plus Bartemius's son." A murmur rose again among the figures, as Lyall, shook his head, "That's impossible! My daughter would never be involved with any of this."

With a flourish, he produced the Black Grimoire, from within the folds of his robes. Gasps echoed through the crypt as he revealed,"Your daughter got me this when I met her two years ago. I talked to the former owner, an Arab magnate. He told me that a person who had bought it, not to mention bribed, had unusual persuasion skills for her age. Your daughter, Lyall, she used your nickname 'The Merchant'. She's not as innocent as you think."

Henri spoke up, his voice laced with curiosity. "I've heard about your daughter, Lyall. My son and your daughter are best friends, but we've never met her. Many rumors surround her, quite curious rumors."

"That girl is dangerous. She radiates a dark aura, just like Tom did when we met him." Eleanor added.

Lyall, his anger simmering, defended his daughter, vehemently declaring, "My daughter is no murderer, she is not like Tom."

"What do we do now?" Dorea, ever the calming presence, redirected the conversation.

Orion's gaze remained focused as he responded, "We must train them, prepare them for what may come. There are rumors that Tom has been seen in Albania, he's gotten his hands on Rowena's Diadem."

"Our children are still children! They're thirteen years old." Celine objected, her mother's instincts kicking in. "They are not soldiers, Orion. We won't turn them into soldiers."

"They have been chosen, Celine" Orion's expression hardened. "and training must begin, even if they start with non-verbal spells. "

The group, in reluctant agreement, nodded as Orion concluded, "We'll meet again after New Year's, with our children." And with that, the hooded figures dispersed into the darkness, leaving the crypt silent once more.

The Great Hall buzzed with the usual sounds of students chatting, laughter, and the clinking of cutlery against plates. Sirius had his arm slung around James as they sat at the Gryffindor table, devouring their dinner. James, however, seemed to be preoccupied with something other than food.

"I don't know which is worse, Jamesy, you looking at Evans like a love-sick puppy or you looking at Hermione like a kicked puppy. Either way, it's ridiculous," Sirius remarked, devouring a chicken thigh with a level of enthusiasm that bordered on barbaric.

"Fuck, Sirius, you're a fucking pig. Shut your mouth while you eat," James retorted, his nose wrinkling in disgust. Ignoring the comment, Sirius continued to eat with his mouth wide open, much to James's annoyance.

"I'm just saying," Sirius quipped between messy bites, "it's really funny to me that a thirteen-year-old girl scares you so much. She's not going to bite your head off."

"Said girl is Remus' little sister, and he may not bite, but she does," James muttered, shooting not-so-subtle glances at Hermione, seated at the Ravenclaw table. "Plus, every time I try to get over to talk to her, Regulus, Barty, or one of the girls is with her."

"You are persona non grata, James, accept it and move on with your life," Remus interjected, pouring himself a glass of pumpkin pie juice. "Sirius, close your mouth while you eat or I'll close it for you."

As the banter continued, an owl's hoot echoed through the Great Hall, drawing the attention of the students. The owl perched on Hermione's shoulder, delivering a letter. The Ravenclaw group huddled together, reading the letter, and then left the Great Hall, followed shortly by Evan and Regulus.

"Wasn't that...James, wasn't that your family's owl?" Peter pointed toward the Ravenclaw table, where Hermione had been sitting a few moments ago.

"It's my mother's owl," James frowned, concerned. "My mother doesn't know Hermione, and it's not common to write a letter to someone you don't know if you haven't been introduced beforehand, according to pureblood customs."

"If we had the map finished, we could find out where they go," Peter complained as Sirius patted him on the back comfortingly. "They always disappear at very random times, even Lily has noticed it."

James got up and walked over to where Lily was sitting with her friends, making Marlene look at him skeptically. "Potter, what do you want?"

The black-haired boy turned his gaze from Marlene to Lily, smirking. "Potter, I'm not going on a date with you. I've been telling you the same thing for two years in a row. Haven't you gotten the hint yet?"

"Someday you'll say yes to me, love," he replied, watching as Lily's frown deepened. "But I'm not here for us; I'm here to ask you about Hermione."

Lily crossed her arms, inviting him to continue. "Pete told me that you've noticed that Hermione disappears at random moments, and because I'm so curious, I can't help it. I want to know what you know."

"First of all, you need to learn boundaries and stop stalking people. It's scary and creepy," Lily scolded, making James blush. "Unfortunately, I can't help you. You know how she is. By the way, have you apologized yet?"

"Don't remind me, Evans. It's been practically impossible," James groaned, "It's impossible to find a time when she's alone."

"Don't tell her that I told you, but Hermione usually spends her afternoons next to the Black Lake, under the tree there, and generally, she is always alone." James nodded vigorously and thanked Lily, who rolled her eyes. "Evans, seriously, not even a date?"

"Potter, leave before I take out my wand and curse you," the redhead threatened, making James scamper off to rejoin his friends.

The library was the epitome of calm and quiet until the storm entered. Remus sat hunched over a table, engrossed in his books, oblivious to what was about to happen. Suddenly, the tranquility shattered with the sharp sound of his sister's voice.

"Why, pray tell, did you hit James?" Hermione's tone sliced through the air like a blade, drawing the attention of everyone in the vicinity. Remus looked up to find his sister standing over him, eyes ablaze with anger. Behind her, Sirius looked like a deer caught in headlights.

Remus took a moment to compose himself before responding, "Hello to you too, Mimi. What's got you so fired up?"

"Don't 'Mimi' me," Hermione crossed her arms and glared at him. "Answer the question, Remus."

Remus closed his book, "Hit James?" he questioned, innocence etching his features. "Me? Why would I?"

Hermione's frustration was palpable. "Last year. You hit James last year," she seethed, her eyes narrowing. "Don't you fucking dare lie to me, Remus, this shithead behind me told me."

He admitted, leaning back in his chair. "Okay. I hit James last year. You know, for that unfortunate comment he made about blood status. Big deal."

Hermione's nostrils flared with anger. Leaning over the table, she snapped, "And you think that justifies violence? I don't need you to fight my battles, Remus. I can handle it myself."

"I found out about it weeks later, Hermione, weeks." Remus, his patience waning, met her gaze with equal intensity. "How do you think it made me feel to find out from a student that you had cried because of what James had said? That's not handling it yourself."

"I don't need anyone's help or pity," Hermione hissed, crossing her arms.

Frustration etched Remus's face as he slammed his hands against the table, his frustration boiling over. "I'm your older brother, Hermione! You're my younger sister! It's my duty to protect you."

Her eyes narrowed, Hermione retorted, "I've always known how to defend myself."

Remus massaged his temples, exasperated. "I know you can, you we're always the one who would fight the kids in our neighborhood when they picked on me. But we've grown up and you have to learn when to ask for help. "

Hermione, surprised by his perspective, asked, "What do you mean?"

In a soft voice, Remus spoke, "It's okay to let others fight your battles from time to time, especially when they care about you. If Sirius or I choose to step in, it's because you matter to us. You have to let me be the older sibling sometimes."

Hermione fell silent, absorbing his words. After a moment, she nodded slowly. "Next time, you don't need to hit James."

Sirius, who had been silent until now, chimed in, "Since when did you call him James, Hermione, and not Potter?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I like to keep him on his toes."

Sirius laughed, "Have you spoken to him? The poor kid is miserable between you and Evans."

Her smirk widened. "I like making him sweat a little. I want to see how far he's willing to go for forgiveness."

Remus raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Why would you say that?"

Hermione's mischievous smile grew. "I told him the next time we spoke, he should be on his knees and begging."

Remus and Sirius exchanged incredulous glances, both struggling to contain their laughter at Hermione's boldness. "On his knees?" the black-haired wizard burst out with a hearty laugh. "Merlin, Hermione, I love you."

She grinned, reveling in the reactions she was getting. "Well, if he's truly sorry, he'll do it, won't he?"

Sirius, still grinning, decided to playfully tease Remus. "You know, Rem, you should take notes. Maybe hitting people isn't the best solution."

Remus rolled his eyes, giving Sirius a mock stern look. "I'll stick to my methods, thank you very much." He returned to his books, pretending to be engrossed in his studies, while his sister and his best friend exchanged a few more laughs before Hermione excused herself to go find her friends.

Sirius watched her go with a thoughtful expression. When he turned back to Remus, a mischievous grin played on his lips. "You know, Rem, your sister is something else. Feisty, bold, and I have to admit, I like her style."

Remus sighed, knowing where this conversation was headed. "Sirius, don't even think about it. She's my sister."

Sirius raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Who said anything about thinking? I just find her entertaining. Besides, I think she's got James wrapped around her little finger."

Remus gave him a deadpan look. "The question is, who doesn't she have wrapped around her finger?"

The New Year's ball at Potter Manor unfolded as a spectacle of grandeur, with elegantly decorated guests twirling across the dance floor in their finest attire. The air was filled with the melodic strains of the orchestra, laughter, and the clinking of glasses, creating an enchanting atmosphere of celebration.

The soft glow of chandeliers bathed the room in a warm light, casting a radiant ambiance. Hermione, draped in a stunning gown that accentuated her grace and poise, found herself by the refreshments table, engaged in conversation with Regulus, a voice sliced through the festive ambiance.

"Miss Lupin, we finally meet." Hermione turned to find Dorea Potter standing before them, an air of subtle haughtiness about her.

Regulus, ever the gentleman, squared his shoulders and offered a polite bow. "Lady Potter," he acknowledged before gracefully excusing himself, leaving Hermione and Dorea in an intriguing tête-à-tête.

Dorea's gaze was piercing as she approached Hermione. "I've heard your name mentioned quite a bit tonight," she remarked, raising an elegant eyebrow.

With a slight bow, Hermione greeted, "Lady Potter, I hope everything you've heard about me is good."

The Potter matriarch didn't hold back. "You've been quite the bone of contention in the family," she remarked, her lips curled into a slight sneer.

Unfazed, Hermione inquired, "You mean James, I presume?" Dorea nodded, and she continued, "Well, you could say that James is a Black from head to toe, truly your son after all."

Dorea's frown deepened, and her gray eyes flashed dangerously. "And, pray tell, why would you say that, Miss Lupin?"

Hermione smirked, taking a sip of her champagne before responding, "James is arrogant, haughty. He believes people should kiss the ground where he walks, but he also stands firm in his beliefs. He's true to his principles, which is exactly what makes him James Potter."

Dorea, unexpectedly, burst into laughter, her melodious voice resonating in the ballroom, surprising Hermione. "Now I understand why Orion likes you," she commented, causing Hermione to choke slightly on her champagne. "Don't worry, my dear. We'll see each other tomorrow. Happy New Year, Hermione." she added before gracefully leaving Hermione alone.

However, the solitude was short-lived as Regulus returned, extending a hand towards her. "May I have this dance, Miss Benett?" he asked with a courteous smile.

Hermione, recovering from the unexpected encounter, smiled sarcastically and accepted. "What would all these fine gentlemen and well-managed ladies think of me if I rejected the proposal of the second heir to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, Mr. Darcy?" she teased, making Regulus roll his eyes in mock exasperation.

"What were you and my great-aunt talking about?" he inquired, his eyes fixed on hers. Regulus' movements were graceful and controlled as he led his best friend through the dance.

Hermione replied shortly, her gaze meeting his as they twirled. "We were talking about James."

Regulus chuckled, a teasing glint in his eyes. "It's the first time I've seen my great-aunt laugh so openly at an event like this. You must have told her something.", he prodded gently.

"I told her that James is like all the Blacks I've known: arrogant, haughty, believes he's better than anyone, but remains faithful to his ideals."Hermione recounted, a smirk playing on her lips.

Regulus chuckled, his laughter a melodic accompaniment to the music. "Someday that mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble, ma cherie."

"But you'll be there to get me out of them, right?" she asked, her voice quivering slightly as she looked into his eyes.

Hermione tried to smile, she did. She summoned every ounce of strength to push back the overwhelming tide of emotions threatening to drown her. Despite her efforts, her lower lip trembled weight of the impending doom pressed heavily on her, and a voice inside her head, relentless and unyielding, whispered, "He's going to die."

Before her, stood a thirteen-year-old boy, a vivid embodiment of life itself. His laughter echoed, carefree and unburdened by the harsh realities of the world. This boy, her best friend, held a mirror to a past that felt simultaneously distant and achingly close. In that fleeting moment, she glimpsed Harry within him, and it was like seeing the stars after a cloudy day, sparkling bright despite everything.

Regulus, in his own way, had a knack for evoking memories of Harry. Shared characteristics, like their dark, self-deprecating sense of humor, created a bridge between the two in Hermione's mind, making her roll her eyes and crack a smile. When she scolded or engaged in arguments with Regulus, he responded with a familiar eye roll coupled with a small, knowing smile,and a casual "whatever you say, Hermione," echoing Harry's mannerisms.

Yet, it was moments like these, of unfiltered, unbridled happiness, that drew the strongest parallels between the two boys. In those instances when laughter bubbled forth from Regulus, casting aside the weight of the world and becoming just a boy of his age. In those instances, he ceased to be the second heir of the House of Black, transcending his family's expectations and responsibilities.

Her Harry had once been the same. Despite the world labeling him as The-Boy-Who-Lived, in the intimate company of Hermione and Ron, he transformed into simply Harry. In those unguarded moments, when Ron cracked a joke, genuine laughter would spill forth from Harry, unfiltered and true.

His laughter was a symphony to Hermione's ears, far from a forced or polite chuckle. It was a laughter that originated from the depths of his being, resonating with unadulterated joy. His green eyes would light up, sparkling with infectious mirth that seemed to radiate from his very soul. The corners of his eyes crinkled, and his cheeks blushed with a rosy hue.

Harry's genuine laughter was more than a sound; it was an experience. It was a full-bodied, belly-deep manifestation of happiness that reverberated with an unmatched intensity. His entire face would come alive, every feature animated with the sheer pleasure of the moment. Even his nose would crinkle slightly, adding an endearing touch to the contagious laughter.

"You know I will, Hermione." A small smile graced Regulus's lips, pulling her out of her thoughts. "Until the day I die, and if there is life beyond death, there too." His gray eyes shined soft and genuine beneath the glittering chandeliers and in that suspended moment, the world outside faded away, and time seemed to stand still.

It was in those precious moments of shared laughter, six years of friendship condensed into a single heartbeat, where Hermione felt the closest she had ever been to home — a feeling she had only found with Harry.