Right, it's been forever since I've posted for this story. I've got writers block like you wouldn't believe plus I'm finally graduating college this year, so there's all these last minute credits to get, plus work of course. I want to see this story completed and I know I have a bad track record at that but it all needs to come at my own pace. And that is sometimes a very slow pace, I'm afraid.

Well anyway, thank you to whoever is still reading this. I hope you enjoy.

There is no Darkness but ignorance – William Shakespeare


Chapter 9

The next day Hermione was sitting in the Ravenclaw common room, reading. This was not an unusual occurrence for the bushy-haired girl, who spent most of her time devouring any remotely interesting book she could get her hands on. Rather the subject matter was more along the taste of the Malfoy's and Black's and their like: for it was a book on wizarding genealogy. A not inconsiderable, not to mention a thoroughly repulsive read.

She sighed and put it down. It was rubbish how some witches and wizards allowed themselves to be taken in by such nonsense. In addition to herself and her own aptitude for spells, Hermione had classmates who were muggleborns who were perfectly talented, and knew purebloods who could barely manage pre-O.W.L level spells, and people like Regulus Black still refused to see that there was no difference between the two in terms of ability. That Lily Evans and Dirk Cresswell could be excellent wizards while the pureblooded Pettigrew barely knew what he was doing in most of his classes was proof enough of this.

If she could get through the next two weeks of detention, she could get this whole thing out of her mind. But she still had one last hurdle before she was home free. A certain essay on the pureblooded nuisance. How in the world was she supposed to talk about him? What did she know about him at all? That he liked Quidditch? Well that would hardly fill out a whole essay. That he had a brother that he didn't talk to? She thought that was a subject not worth bringing up. That his whole family's mindset was warped? That was an even worse subject to bring up and one she had even less interest in going into.

The book was nauseating. The whole idea of an essay on him was nauseating. As far as she saw it, it would be like trying to educate a neo-Nazi on their anti-Semitism. Hermione ran a hand through her bushy hair, simply ruffling it further, as she tried to puzzle out the problem that was Regulus Black. He had taken the books, it was true, but that had been nothing more than his pride being put on the line, hadn't it? She could not for a moment think that he was actually going to read too much into either of them, could she?

Yet in spite of everything, Hermione had a tiny spark of the idealist in her, a part of her that wanted to think that she could touch someone else's mind enough to make a difference. It was the same part of her that had always tried to get Harry and Ron interested in house elf rights and avidly discuss what they had learned in class. That part of her thought that there was always a chance that she was wrong and maybe he would take the books she'd given him to heart?

Then again, maybe Peter Pettigrew would grow a spine, Severus Snape would give out candy and Lily Evans would commit murder. Hermione needed a grip before she drove herself too crazy with what-ifs.


It was a very irate Regulus Black who greeted her at their next detention, 100 Innovations for the Magicless Home clutched in a death grip in one pale hand. He stared at Hermione as he stood by his seat.

"What the hell is a microwave?" Regulus was by now glaring at Hermione as she took her usual seat. He still had yet to sit down but was standing across from her, his arms crossed as she regarded him curiously. "Well?"

"It heats food up," she replied, feeling secretly pleased that he had actually started reading. "You see Muggles have stoves and ovens, but if they wish to prepare a quick meal, they can use a microwave oven."

"And it uses some kind of rays to warm food up?" He looked deeply skeptical at this.

"Technically what it uses are electromagnetic currents from radiation to keep the food at a certain temperature," Hermione explained. "It's convenient because the food can be prepared in minutes instead of the hours sometimes necessary for things to be cooked in the oven." She paused to let this sink in before adding. "Though usually the taste of the food is found to be better when prepared in the conventional oven over a microwave one."

"It sounds bloody stupid to me," he told her. "When we have all sorts of ways to prepare food quickly with magic. "

"This isn't about preparing food," she reminded him. "Rather it's about cooking the food in as short a time as possible."

"Well it still sounds stupid," he told her. "More of that electricity right?"

"Right," she said, secretly pleased that he got the term right. Even Arthur Weasley couldn't manage that. "All very up to date and necessary for the average muggle home." She nodded towards the book. "It gives very basic definitions of each item in that book as it's simply meant to form a basic discussion for a first year Muggle Studies class. There might be books in the library that discuss it further."

"What difference does it make how muggles cook their food?" Regulus asked. "What purpose does it all serve?"

"Well it explains how muggles can manage without too much trouble things that witches and wizards take for granted through the use of magic," Hermione said. She studied his displeased expression as he sat down. For a moment he was silent and she thought he might be absorbing all of this.

"Of course if they had magic they wouldn't need to go through all of this bother." And that was his take on it.

"But they don't," Hermione said. "And they still manage so much."

He didn't have a ready answer to this so he settled for a grimace instead. Hermione chose to take this as a won battle. She observed him even more minutely as he looked back down at the book. His dark hair, worn slightly shorter than his brother's, nonetheless still fell into his grey eyes as he read. His look of concentration was far less severe on his features than his usual look of disgust, but Hermione had to confess, it was strange seeing it on a face that so resembled the carefree Sirius Black.

She supposed he wouldn't take too well to being told that he resembled his brother in any way, shape or form so she filed that thought away being speaking again.

"We took radios from muggles, you know." He turned to look at her. "Wizards were so fascinated by them that they took the invention and created their own channels." The Weasley's always had their radio on. The thought gave Hermione a pang of homesickness.

"I don't listen to radio," Regulus Black replied. "It's too muggle." He said the word as though it were a disease. The image of Mrs. Black's shrieking portrait came unbidden into Hermione's mind at his words. There was no way he had been introduced to radio with that kind of mother raising him.

"You will miss out on a lot of good music that way," she told him. "You should give it a try one day."

"Absolutely not." And that was all he had to say on the matter before turning back to his reading.

Still Hermione saw that he had made great progress through the book and she couldn't say why but it pleased her. Perhaps it was that same spark of idealism, that part of her that wanted to encourage learning in others. Whatever the case, his reading made the time they had to pass in Professor Flitwick's classroom all the better. They didn't talk and he didn't agree with her, but he read the book. She would take her victories when and where she could get them and this was definitely a small victory.

That day and the next were surprisingly devoid of arguments on the subject of muggles between the two. Outside of a few questions about the practicality of cars and the purpose of television, there was very little criticism, which was nice. He was even fairly polite about his questions, or at least far less insulting than usual. Hermione had made it through a week like this and had only another week to go before the other shoe dropped.

She had just settled into her seat in Slughorn's classroom when she heard the Potion's master greeting Regulus Black with shock.

"Mr. Black, that is a most unusual hair style. I can't say it looks very smart but perhaps the ladies will like it."

Hermione turned. "Oh," was all she got out. Because Regulus Black did indeed have a new hairdo and it was definitely not very smart.

That and the look in Black's eyes could have frozen lava.


Needless to say Hermione was one lady who did not like the new, bare hairdo and she made sure to make her feelings known as soon as she could pull her boyfriend's best friend aside and tell him so. Sirius for his part was unapologetic.

"He acts like a snake so I gave him a snake look. It'll grow back." He smirked at this. "In a while when the charm has worn off."

"I don't think it's very funny," Hermione said. "He was embarrassed and angry." That had been an understatement to the fuming, red-faced boy she had seen in detention the previous day.

"I fail to see the problem." Sirius's grin could cut glass. He was immensely pleased with himself, far more than were either Hermione or the lurking Remus, who gave Hermione an apologetic look before coming to stand beside her.

"Sirius was just concerned after that terrible fight you both had," Remus said quietly. "You did spend some time with Madame Pomfrey after all." He was clutching several dog-eared books and had the look of a small boy justifying his new troublesome pet to his irate mother.

"Exactly," Sirius said. "That and it gives him one less thing to strut about."

"You're one to talk," James said with a laugh. "You strut your looks all the bloody time." Pettigrew laughed at this and even Remus smiled in spite of himself.

Sirius glared at him. "And whose side are you on, mate?"

"The non-Slytherin side," James said loyally as he clapped Sirius on the back. "As always." He offered Hermione a smile that was clearly meant to be encouraging. "If it's alright with you Perkins, we were just trying to look after things. Little punks like that think they can hex whoever they want and get away with it."

"But he didn't get away with it," she said. "He got two weeks detention, just like I did. All Sirius did was to make things worse."

"People like him deserve more than just detention." Great now Pettigrew was weighing in with an opinion. If it wasn't just her lucky day that day.

"He technically did," Hermione said. "His two weeks will obviously cut into his time practicing for Quidditch, so he can hardly be said to get off easy."

Sirius laughed at that. "And we all know that he needs all the help he can get against the Gryffindors."

Judging from how well his team had done against the Ravenclaws Hermione wasn't too sure of this but she let it slid. Woes betide her if she let herself get drawn into an argument over Quidditch of all things.

"I don't need your help," she said. "And I don't need you using my fights to start your own war with your brother," she added as Sirius was looking particularly smug. She turned on her heel, ready to head into the Great Hall for whatever breakfast she could grab before class. "So leave it be."

For his part Remus didn't even try to follow her, instead heading for his own table, which was just as well. Hermione stalked over to the Ravenclaw table where Emmeline was still eating. Snatching up a muffin, she quickly began to eat, ignoring the looks she was receiving.

From across the table, Belby was looking particularly amused. He glanced over at the Gryffindor table before turning to regard Hermione. "Trouble in paradise?" he asked smugly. "Your boyfriend is looking like you kicked him in the face."

"That's a thought, maybe someone should do that to you," a fifth year said to him. "See if they can't improve it."

Hermione and Emmeline both finished eating and got up, both narrowly avoiding splashes from Belby's milk as he tossed it in the face of the offending fifth year boy. Shouldering her bag Hermione hurried to class, avoiding the look of rage that was facing her way from the Slytherin table.


Hermione, in spite of being on a whole other side of the building, still managed to get to Slughorn's dungeon classroom first. She supposed her detention mate wanted to take as long as possible before showing up. She took a seat near the front of the room, where several cauldrons, scrubbed clean of their contents, stood gleaming on the long tables. It was a few minutes before she heard Slughorn's jovial tones and knew that He had arrived. Still she did not turn, even as she heard the door shut behind him. For a minute there was silence.

"This is all your damn fault."

She turned to wearily regard the fifth year. 'So that's how he wanted to play it?' "Black I didn't tell your brother to hex you. In fact I'm just as annoyed as you are that he did it." At his look of disbelief, she continued, "really I am. I don't need him trying to use my fights to start fights of his own."

"You want me to believe that when you're dating one of his friends," Regulus looked as disbelieving as he was angry.

"I don't ask you to believe anything," she told him. "I'm simply telling you that I don't want him using me as an excuse to fight with you. I can handle my own affairs without others butting in, whether Remus is my boyfriend or not."

He said nothing to this. Instead he walked up to her and threw down 100 Innovations for the Magicless Home. "I finished it."

Amazing. This had to be the first non-Quidditch related book she had given to someone that they had actually read. That was a new record alright. "Well then."

"Well, it told me nothing that really matters. So muggles have found some means of living without magic? Big deal, we still can do it better. There is nothing really interesting in there. Just a bunch of boring information about televisions and microwaves and cars. Why should I care about any of it?"

Hermione found herself wondering if he didn't have a point. It wasn't the most interesting of reads. Informative yes, but hardly interesting. Just technical information, more likely to help one pass a muggle studies class than to get one interested in muggle culture. But then Muggle Studies had been rather bland in this regard, unable to sustain a real interest in non-magical culture. At the word culture a conversation she had with her dorm mates occurred to her then and she smiled.

"Yet wizards have hardly anything really inventive that they've created," she said. "Little in the way of art or poetry, or even music. Muggles have less fantasy but they love writing and creating works that encourage it. Imagine that."

"I doubt they have much success with it," he told her. "They can hardly know what they are talking about after all."

"Shakespeare still created some good stories," Hermione said. "He did live right before the wizarding world went into hiding so he may have picked up some things."

Regulus paused. "He was a playwright."

Hermione felt surprised he knew this. "Yes that's right. Have you read anything by him?"

"Of course not." As he stood there with his bare head and haughty look Hermione felt almost sorry for him. It was too ridiculous, the idea that was forming in her head, but she couldn't help letting it out.

"You should go to the theater one day," she said. "And see Shakespeare performed. "His idea of witches in Macbeth was very bad but A Midsummer Night's Dream's fairies are almost like regular wizards in their squabbling and love potion making. King Lear and Hamlet are both worth a watch as well, for the full feel of the pathos that their situations bring."

"I wouldn't set foot in a muggle theater," Regulus told her. "And I have no interest in Shakespeare."

But he was lying. Hermione could almost see the mind working, of a boy who read a book on muggle inventions not just to make a point but because he needed to see it through. If she wasn't mistaken, he would read Shakespeare, if not see it performed. It just took a little push.

"Maybe the book was just not your style. Still The Invisible Man might grab you." She smiled at him. "It isn't all technical details and you did agree to read it."

"Yeah I'll read it," he said sulkily. "But that's it then, I'm done. These two weeks are almost finished anyways."

She nodded, thinking. She would have to write about him. He was still so unreachable, yet he had been the first to read a book she had recommended and maybe she could work that into her essay. An almost kindred soul for books and learning.

"And what purpose is there for this man to get invisible anyways. What business is it of some muggle?"

She did say almost kindred.


So yeah, they almost bonded over books. Almost still being key here. Seriously in my head canon for Regulus I see him as a total bookworm, so that's definitely got an important role to play here and a means by which to soften him, if only a little. He's definitely arrogant but is a little too curious for his own liking. We will see where that leads him.