"Let me tell you this: if you meet a loner, no matter what they tell you, it's not because they enjoy solitude. It's because they have tried to blend into the world before, and people continue to disappoint them."

― Jodi Picoult,


Do Not Go Gentle

"He never would have gotten far in world domination, wizards would have stopped him, so it is all for nothing." And that was Regulus Black's take on The Invisible Man. Typical.

Hermione just shook her head at him. "The idea of course is that witches and wizards don't exist in this universe. As far as I know, H.G. Wells didn't know anything about them, so he wouldn't have known they had their own ways of becoming invisible."

Regulus humped, which was rather uncharacteristically undignified. "Well, he still wouldn't have got very far. What kind of invisibility doesn't cover the whole person, clothes included?"

'Well he has a point,' Hermione thought. "It's a bit of originality though," she instead told him. "Having to handicap your character like that."

"What does that mean?" he asked her, looking puzzled.

"It means they have something that limits them," she said. He was silent for a moment as though processing this.

"It's still a stupid idea," he finally said.

Hermione tried not to let her weariness by the conversation show. It had only been a day since she had woken up and she still felt tired and sore. Still they had agreed to meet in the library so they could talk over their essays on each other. Neither of them wanted more detentions, or to miss their Hogsmeade weekend, so there they were.

"So," Hermione pulled her notes towards her. "We each have to write about the other in order to be done with our punishments. Would it be worth mentioning that we both like to read?"

Regulus grimaced. "I like to read. You apparently waste your time with muggle literature about muggles with delusions of grandeur who get invisible by not wearing clothes."

"Oh, you're such a joy," Hermione told him. "It's almost Christmas, have some cheer and talk about yourself."

"About myself?" his eyes narrowed. "You can talk about yourself if you want. You seem to like lecturing people, so that's a start."

"You in turn have a great knack for annoying people," Hermione said in turn as cheerfully as she could muster. "Shall I jot that down?"

Regulus glared at her. Then he glanced over her shoulder. "There's a bit of joy for you," he said sarcastically. "Potter and his hanger on."

Hermione turned and sure enough James Potter and Peter Pettigrew had just come in. James headed off to the Transfiguration section, Pettigrew trailing behind him.

"Strange seeing Pettigrew in a library," Regulus remarked. "I doubt he gets much reading done."

Probably not," Hermione agreed.

Regulus smirked at her. "You don't like him much do you? It's written all over your face."

"No," Hermione had to admit. "I don't particularly care for him." She looked down at her notes again, somewhat troubled by her expression being that transparent.

"So he's bad but Lupin is worthy of snogging? Good to know." His smugness was positively loathsome.

"Remus is different. He's actually intelligent." Hermione felt a stab of guilt at this. Since when did she judge people by how intelligent they were?

Regulus just looked amused at this. "So it matters how intelligent someone is? How very Ravenclaw of you." At her look of annoyance, he added: "so that could go in the essay couldn't it, a dislike for Pettigrew on account of him being not smart enough for either of us?"

Hermione was not amused. "I don't just dislike people for not being smart enough."

"Whatever you say, Perkins. Just so you know though, you won't get any arguments from me."

Hermione had to steer the conversation away from this topic. She couldn't believe that the first thing they agreed on had to be Peter Pettigrew. "So we can agree that we like reading, you like Quidditch, what classes do you like?"

"I don't have a favorite," Regulus told her. "It's all the same to me."

Hermione sighed. "You must have some favorite. Mine happens to be Arithmancy. You can place that down if you like."

Regulus shook his head. "Barty likes Transfiguration and Evan likes Potions but I have no favorite."

Hermione stiffened, a hand unconsciously reaching up to her throat. "I couldn't care less what Rosier and Crouch's favorites are. We are talking about you."

"Well I don't have a favorite, so that's not going down. You can instead talk about what a fantastic Quidditch player I am."

Another sigh. "Your modesty knows no bounds." From the corner of her eye she could see James Potter and Peter Pettigrew staring at her in surprise. As she saw Pettigrew lean in and whisper something, she bit her lip. She hoped they wouldn't try and make a scene. Thankfully after a moment, they turned and walked away, leaving the Ravenclaw and Slytherin team in peace.

"I can write that you like that stupid bard right?"

Well relative peace at least.


It was done. The essay's had been written and handed in and Hermione was free to attend Hogsmeade with Remus. It should have been a time of happiness, where Hermione could simply bask in the freedom from detention with the surly younger Black brother and enjoy the trip and the Christmas holiday ahead. Yet somehow she was unable to muster the strength to be cheerful.

For one thing she still felt unusually tired even after a full night's sleep, and with the mound of school work she had to do in preparation for her pre-holiday exams she was not always able to get the right amount of sleep. Hermione had been told that she might take awhile to feel fully recovered. She just wished awhile was over.

For another thing she found herself warily watching everything she ate, determined not to give a certain someone a chance to repeat their spiking of her food.

Still Hermione found herself just a few days before Christmas heading across the grounds with Remus Lupin, both of them wrapped in thick cloaks and scarves to keep out the bitter cold. Remus was talking about an Arithmancy project they had just been assigned, and Hermione was struggling to appear alert and interested as they entered the main road of Hogsmeade, which had been decorated for the holidays.

"It looks nice," Remus said. He was pointing at a nearby shop window, which was done up with silver and gold lights and holly. "They sell a lot of pumpkin flavored foods there. Would you like to go in and try some?"

Hermione smiled. That actually sounded nice. "Do they have pumpkin flavored coffee?"

Remus nodded. "They have a little of everything."

"Then let's go in."

He led the way into the warm little shop, pumpkin wafting out from the doorway and filling Hermione's sense of smell. The store had a small cozy feeling, with holly hanging overhead and more lights twinkling by the counters. Displays featuring everything from pumpkin figurines to pumpkin flavored cookies, pastries and candy lined the walls. At the end of the room behind the main counter stood a round, rosy-cheeked witch in orange robes. She smiled at them as the pair approached her.

"What can I get for you dearies?" she asked kindly.

"Two pumpkin coffees please," Remus answered. He then turned to Hermione. "Do you want anything else?"

"No thank you." The rosy-cheeked witch took Remus's money from him and stepped away to place their orders in the back as Hermione leaned her head against his shoulder. He looked down at her in surprise.

"Are you alright Rose?" he sounded concerned. "You haven't been yourself lately."

"Actually, I haven't been sleeping very well," Hermione admitted. "The exams and all are getting to me." She thanked the shopkeeper as her drink was handed to her. It felt pleasantly warm in her hands.

"Are you sure that's all it is?" Remus asked. He led her to a small table off to the side. As she set her coffee down in front of her Hermione pondered how best to answer.

"I've been feeling kind of funny since I woke up in the hospital wing," she might as well come out with it, if not to Remus than to no one else. "Could you keep something between us?"

Remus looked at her very seriously. "Of course. Is something wrong?"

So she told him about her bout of sickening potion and the conversation with Dumbledore. It felt good to share it with someone, though she was not entirely sure what he was going to do to help. Surprisingly enough she found herself doing something she had never expected to do at that time or at any other. She found herself defending Regulus Black.

"Are you sure he had nothing to do with this?" Remus asked her for about the third time as Hermione sipped her coffee. She waited a moment, letting the warm liquid slid down her throat and settle in her stomach before answering.

"It's not him. Actually I have my suspicions as to who it is responsible, but I can't entirely be sure."

Remus hesitated a little too long for her liking before answering. "He seemed very angry after Sirius attacked him Rose, and I know he is a member of Slughorn's club, so he must have at least some talent at potions. If he wanted to get back at Sirius…"

"He would have gone for Sirius directly," Hermione said. "Or gone after James more likely. Sirius and I aren't friends and it wouldn't make sense for him to punish me instead."

"He did get a few weeks detention after fighting with you and it's not the first time he has put you in the hospital, Rose." Remus was looking very solemn. Hermione almost felt tempted to laugh but this wasn't really a laughing matter.

"He didn't actually mean to do that," she said. "He is a bit of an idiot but I don't think he really means to hurt anyone." As she said this she realized how much she found herself believing this. Regulus Black was rude, prejudiced, selfish, petty and obnoxious, but she didn't think of him as violent. Even when they fought she had always started anything physical. His friends on the other hand…She brushed that thought off.

Remus still didn't look convinced. "It's possible," was all he said. "Though I don't see what other enemies you could have made who would do this. No one else dislikes you."

Hermione smiled ruefully at him. "I would hardly say that no one else dislikes me. Your friend Pettigrew doesn't seem to think I'm so great."

Remus shook his head at her. He was watching a couple picking out pumpkin candies as he spoke. "Peter isn't much of a people person. He is a little funny sometimes."

"Oh, I'm sure he thinks he is hilarious," Hermione said sarcastically as she remembered him butting in to their last date. Luckily the boy in question had been spotted heading across town with James Potter and Sirius Black before they had entered the shop. She was tired and didn't want a repeat.

Remus smiled at her. "Don't let him bother you. Peter's harmless."

Hermione drank more of her coffee instead of answering. She wished that she knew nothing of the future but all she could see ahead for this group of friends was death. One day a tired gray looking Remus Lupin would be looking at a lifetime without friends or a job, at a war that seemed to have no end in sight, at prejudice and isolation. She could feel at that moment how alone it was, having such a secret cause an impenetrable gulf between you and others, and she found herself taking his hand in the place of future talking.

'It's okay,' she wanted to say, 'when he betrays you and James and Sirius are gone I will be here.'

A moment passed by and he squeezed her hand back and she felt how little a future there might be for her if she didn't find a way back and the thought that she could stay here and try to build a future from this time rose into her mind, an impossible thought filled with possibly catastrophic consequences. She couldn't stay here with him, she didn't belong, and at times this relationship alone seemed to be going against every instinct she had that told her not to mettle with time.

They held hands and she thought with guilt of a tired man who was facing a future of uncertainty and prejudice and how little she could do to stop this all from happening

Her hand slowly slid out of his and came to rest on the table.


There were more presents than she had expected on Christmas morning, certainly enough to make her feel guilty that she could not afford to get presents for all of her friends in return. Pandora had given her a book on creating your own charms, Emmeline a book on wandless magic and Aurora a book on the magical properties of names. Lily Evans, who she had paired up with a few times in Charms and frequently found herself conversing with at Slughorn's party, had sent her some sugar quills.

Remus had surprised her in the entrance hall before breakfast with a lovely periwinkle blue scarf that had little bronze stars on it. He was blushing as he wound it around her. Hermione, feeling more cheerful than she had in weeks, kissed him lightly on the mouth, ignoring the giggles of a group of younger Hufflepuff's who had emerged from the stairs behind them. Arm in arm they headed into the Great Hall, where she joined him at the Gryffindor table so she could thank Lily Evans for her gift.

These gifts were all well appreciated but the one that really stood out was the silver wrapped book she had found nestled in between Emmeline's and Pandora's. It was an old book, very carefully maintained called The Tales of Beedle the Bard. It came without a note but unless Hermione had lost her touch she knew exactly who had sent it and he would be getting back a copy of Perrault's fairy tales as soon as she could get an order sent out to Diagon Alley, where she remembered seeing a very affordable copy in Flourish and Blot's muggle section.

The rest of the morning was spent wandering the grounds with Remus, even letting herself get caught up in a raucous snowball fight between him and his friends. With all of her dormmates having gone home for the holidays, she felt distinctly outnumbered surrounded by all of the Gryffindor sixth years, although no one else seemed to notice. Remus takes her side and they cheerfully join Lily Evans and Mary Macdonald in waging a snow war on Sirius Black, James Potter and Peter Pettigrew, while Sirius howled theatrically in betrayal at Remus for betraying his friends for a girl. It was silly and frenetic and so very fun that she found herself thinking back to Gryffindor fights involving the Weasley siblings, Harry and herself from years past.

At lunch several heating charms have to be cast before any of them are presentable to go inside and she found herself gravitating towards the Gryffindor table to join in on the food and excitement. It's an excellent lunch, it's an excellent dinner that awaits them later that day as well, a feast of roast beef and potatoes and gravy and pudding. Hermione goes to bed early that night, her mind still slightly ill at ease in spite of the great day she had just experienced.

She doesn't know why but she felt as though things are going too good. It's almost as though the other proverbial shoe is poised in midair, ready and waiting to drop at any second. It's a silly thought, one that she had felt building up all evening, whenever things had felt at their lightest and happiest. It's hard but she eventually manages to push it out of her head long enough to fall into a dreamless sleep.

When she wakes up in the morning and enters the Great Hall, it's to solemn looking faces and quiet murmurings and it only takes as long as reaching Remus Lupin to find out why.

There was a Death Eater attack on a Muggle population where one of their professors resided during the holidays. Professor Seedling was dead.


So I know it's been awhile but I'm still here I promise. This chapter is mostly filler but I figured you might as well get something. I hope you all enjoyed it.