The cavernous room was swarming with new recruits already. It was a mess of short, tall, lanky and fat boys all fresh out of Hogwarts, hoping to make a difference in the Wizarding world. According to Longbottom's roster, there were 80 rookies in total this year.

Only about 20 or so would get past the physical training and into the actual Auror Academy. From there, only 5 to 8 of this lot would complete the process and officially join the ranks of the DMLE.

It sounded arrogant, he knew that, but the figures were based on data – statistics he was made to learn, memorize, in his own time through the Auror Academy. Back when he and James were rookies with high hopes; idealistic bastards.

Before Romania. Before Death Eaters. Before the coma.

This was his first foray back on the force. Robards had asked him, as a way to ease back into things, to help with recruit physical training. He said the healers had advised him training with rookies may be the best physical therapy.

He wasn't atrophied anymore. He'd spent the year since he woke in France with Andi, his busy body of a cousin. She'd set him up with space in one of the old Black properties which had fallen into her possession at Orion's death, as the only living Black.

He didn't want to think about what that had meant for Reggie.

But now, he was back, standing in the training room, searching the young excited faces for one, familiar and welcoming smile.

Harry.

He stood in a small group of three, chatting with a taller red-headed boy, who was bouncing excitedly. The boys' arm was wrapped tightly around the waist of a short girl, long thick brown hair tied tightly back in a braid.

Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger. He smirked, watching the trio with their large smiles make their way into the center of the room.

He'd heard a lot about his godson's two best friends throughout the boy's life. Both before and after the incident. The two were permanent fixtures in his life by now, and by the looks of it, permanent fixtures in each other's lives, too.

Weasley had just bent down to land a kiss on the girl's temple when she caught sight of Sirius. She smiled shyly and waved, alerting Harry and Weasley of his presence. When they looked up to see him, he flashed them a wide grin.

"Sirius, mate, how you been," Weasley boomed, when Sirius came closer. Then the boy winced, bending slightly to cup his right shin. Harry snorted as Granger chastised her boyfriend.

"It's Auror Black, Ronald. We aren't at home!"

Then she looked straight at Sirius, corrected her posture and held out her hand. "I'm Hermione Granger. We haven't met before, but I've heard a lot about you."

He grinned; this young woman was the walking embodiment of every story Harry, James and Lily had told him over the past week he'd been back in London. The girl his best friend had all but adopted when her muggle parents were killed. The girl who kept her boys in line. Well-mannered, pedantic, but determined.

Sirius Black hoped Harry and Ron would make it through the whole program, but he knew, in no uncertain terms, that Hermione Granger would be one of the 5 to 8 who made it through. Top of her class. So he beamed at the short young woman and took her hand in his.

"Likewise, Miss Granger."

Frank Longbottom cleared his throat, then, earning the attention of every hopeful in the room. As the trio before him turned their attention to the other Auror, Sirius's nose was assaulted by a scent that had only been a ghost in his memory for the last year: Lavender and Rosemary.

"Malfoy, Granger! Front and center," Frank called out. Sirius watched, jaw set, from across the room.

Malfoy called out a disorientation spell, and Hermione blocked it effortlessly. She took her opening and cast a full body bind on her dueling partner. But Malfoy dodged to spell too quickly and Hermione hadn't the chance to recuperate her stance before she was caught by a Depulso and slammed against the mats behind her.

Sirius felt a tick in his jaw as he watched the blond git saunter back over to his snickering friends who had gathered to watch.

Harry and Ron reached Hermione swiftly, each grabbing an arm and helping her up.

"I can take you down to the infirmary," he heard Ron say. But Hermione shook her head resolutely.

"I'm fine," she bit out. Sirius felt a flutter of pride in his chest at her determination. Unable to stop himself he called out to her.

"GRANGER!" He watched as the girl stiffened and visibly deflated at the sound of his voice. She turned, nonetheless, and reported dutifully to his presence. Harry and Ron watched in mild concern before turning to resume their own training. His face remained a mask of detachment.

"We're going to take the rest of the day to work on your stances," he told her firmly. "You're overextended and its knocking you off balance. You need to be centered," he instructed, "so you can quickly recover from a cast and return to your protective position unharmed."

He shot at her with a mild stinging hex, which she blocked and returned to him. Again, she failed to return to neutral before he sent the hex back in her direction. It made contact with her right arm and shocked her into dropping her wand.

"That's what I'm talking about, Granger. Don't overextend yourself," he barked. And so they continued.

"He hates me. I swear, he's trying to get me to quit!"

Harry looked over at her and rolled his eyes. "He's training you, Hermione. He doesn't want you to quit."

"He's way worse with me than he is with either of you," she spat, throwing herself back on her bed and staring at her Classical Literature poster on the wall.

Ron squirmed. "She is right, Harry. Sirius is loads stricter with her than he's ever been with us. And she's better than us at most of it. It doesn't really make sense."

"He just," Harry stammered, "you know you're like, one of three girls in the program, right?" Ron winced as Hermione shot back up and glared at Harry.

"What does that have to do with anything," she nearly yelled.

"Nothing! It's just that girls tend to drop out all before the guys–,"

"See! He's trying to intimidate me into dropping out," she cried.

"Not what I'm saying," Harry backtracked. "I'm just saying maybe he's being harder on you to make you even better than everyone else! He's trying to help you stay!"

Hermione was helping Lily set the table when he arrived, and immediately he'd wanted to leave again. She'd shot him quite a nasty sneer with her last hex back at training this afternoon, and if he were honest, he needed time to recover his pride.

After making the rounds and greeting his family, he nodded at the small brunette. "Hermione," he'd said.

"Sirius," she responded curtly before spinning around and stomping away. She left a trail of rosemary and Lavender in her wake, and Sirius fought his baser instincts from closing his eyes to enjoy the blasted scent that had caused his stumble against her in their earlier duel.

He set his jaw and nodded, heading directly to the front stoop for a cigarette.

"You know, you don't have to be so hard on her," he heard Dora's voice say from behind him. The screen door screeched to a close behind the metamorphagus as she slid down to join him on the step.

"She's really good. Just creative as fuck when she fights," he said, chuckling darkly and taking a long drag from his cigarette. "She's the best offense I've seen, really. But she needs to perfect her defense."

"Why," Dora asked.

"The boys are all tough. But she can take them down in an instant. But she's so small, Dora. One stray curse and she'll be on leave for months, or worse." Dora nodded, silently looking out toward the cottage's gate.

"Y'know, I'm no big guy myself," Dora finally spoke, teasingly knocking her elbow into her cousin's ribs. "Frank never went that hard on me."

Sirius silently took another drag. He never responded.

"Sirius?"

"I'd never forgive myself if she went out in the field unprepared. If something happened to her."

"She's not your responsibility, Padfoot."

He was silent again. The yellow butt of his cigarette slipped between his fingers and landed by his boot. Both cousins started at it for a moment before he stomped it out.

"I have to keep her safe," he muttered. Dora only scrutinized him further, one eyebrow raised significantly over the other. She stared him down.

"Why her?"

He met her gaze with a stony, unaffected one of his own. She would have found him completely emotionless had it not been for the tick near his jaw - the tell-tale sign of all Black's.

"I see," was all she said. He stood, wiping the dirt of his trousers and made for the door, expecting Lily to call out that dinner was ready at any moment. As his hand was reaching for the screen door, though, Dora spoke again.

'Siri, do you believe in soul-"

"Don't be stupid, Dora," he said. Then, much quieter, "She's with someone else."

Later, as they all sat around the table, chatting and laughing and digging into the roasted chicken, Sirius noticed this was the second Sunday Ron had missed.

For the first time in months, Hermione was ready for Sunday dinner hours before she even had to be at the Potters.

So it came as a surprise when she was the witch to step out of the floo flame early, dressed, primped and ready to help Harry finish up the potatoes and candied carrots while Lily showered. As she peeled carrots, though, Hermione quickly became hyper-aware of someone watching her. She did her best to ignore, but when the only sound she heard came from her own carrot-peeler, she gave up. Laying her work on the counter in front of her, she spun around to face her best friend in mild irritation.

"Yes, Harry," she asked. Harry took a seat at the table, not taking his eyes off her at all.

"So," he began, eyes narrowing. "How are you today?"

When Hermione remembered Harry had been in her office when she took the sleeping draught, and had spent an entire Saturday alone without contacting him, her irritation faded into a deep shame. He must have worried about her all weekend.

"I'm alright Harry, I'm sorry for not reaching out," she said, levitating her carrots onto the table to join him. "I just spent most of yesterday asleep."

"I knew you were okay," Harry muttered, beginning to peel potatoes again. "Sirius came over last night to let us all know you were home and resting and unaffected - which, how did my parents know about it before I did?"

"Long story," she answered, finishing up a carrot and sticking it in the proper dish. Harry only nodded.

"Anyway, I know McLaggen will likely be asked to take a suspension. He has Sirius's eye-witness account for you, and mine and Seamus's for Ron. But," he started again, peering at his best friend, "How are you?"

Harry looked at her, not with trepidation this time, but with genuine concern. The question in his eyes wasn't at all directed to her physical state. She knew he was inquiring over her mental or emotional state. And she didn't know quite how to answer. What Cormac did to her was distressing; she knew that, but having come out the other side of it unharmed and unaffected (and with an inkling of hope), she didn't know the honest answer. So instead she settled for an easy response.

"I'm," she began, searching for the right words. "I'm indebted to Sirius, for sure," she said. Harry snorted, looking back at his potatoes. "I am," she insisted. "If he hadn't known what to do, then we'd be dealing with a very different situation right now."

"So you don't hate him?"

"No, I don't hate him."

"Do you –" But he never had the opportunity to finish asking because Teddy came running and squealing into the room demanding Harry let him help peel potatoes. Dora came in after him, snickering something to Remus behind her, and greeting both young adults with a face-splitting grin.

As the Lupin's trailed in, so did Luna and Ginny. Hermione helped James set the table while Harry helped his mother take the large roasted chicken out of the oven. Each time the door opened, Hermione would glance up, hoping to catch sight of Sirius before everyone sat down to eat.

By the third time Ginny and Luna had run in and out to bring Lily a different set of fresh herbs, Hermione had begun to lose hope. But when her face shot up toward the front door at the tell-tale screech of the screen and saw only Ginny running in with a handful of coriander, she deflated in clear disappointment.

That was, until the hairs on the back of her neck perked up at the feeling of warm breath skating across them; Hermione shivered at the sound of a familiar, deep, throaty chuckle, and dropped the handful of forks in her hands when she heard, "You looking for someone?"

"Sirius," she gasped, jumping around to face him. She was met with a smirk that only served to make her insides melt. "You scared me," she scolded. He let out a barking laugh, lightly placing his hand on her waist, standing close enough to her that she was trapped between him and the table. She glanced around quickly to see if anyone was watching and noticed James was no longer in the room.

"Very jumpy tonight, Kitten," he laughed, and bent down to place a quick kiss on her cheek. Hermione didn't miss how his lips brushed the corners of her own, but she chose not to say anything. "I just came to see if you needed any help with the place settings."

At this, they both looked down at the floor beside them, where the forks had landed, scattering underneath a chair and the table.

"Well if you feel like helping," Hermione smiled sweetly, lifting a hand to gingerly rest on his chest, "You can start by picking up the forks and bringing out clean ones."

His eyes searched hers for a split second before he twisted his mouth in a soft grin. "Of course, pet." He stepped back and took her hand off his chest, his gaze held hers unwaveringly as he placed another soft kiss on her hand and casually made his way to the kitchen.

Hermione, who swore her feet were glued to her spot, simply rolled her hand into a loose fist and watched the man retreat into the other room. Taking a deep breath, she did what she could to calm the sudden flopping fishes in her stomach and closed her eyes.

Dinner was a typical affair; Remus and Lily discussed their latest reads, Hermione piping in when she could, mostly to give them her thoughts on the titles she'd already read. Ginny and Luna were waist-deep in discussing the uniform for Ginny's Bachelorette party, which everyone but Ginny and Harry knew would ultimately be combined so Ginny's wardrobe idea was shut down fairly quickly. Harry, Hermione and Tonks were sharing office gossip from the DMLE, Tonks and Harry biting their tongues red to avoid sharing the most obvious and most heated pieces of gossip from the office.

Sirius would occasionally pipe in with his own dirty bits of gossip, while sneakily shooting winks at the pink-cheeked brunette sitting directly beside him. Tonks and Harry's faces were equally as pink, but resembled pint-of-bursting balloons than the more-innocent bashful tint.

Sirius poured a glass of lemonade, and set it in front of Hermione before filling his own, while asking Remus about the status of the Quidditch Cup at Hogwarts this year. Ginny broke into this conversation quickly, excitedly sharing her thoughts on Hufflepuff's latest seeker, who Gwenog Jones was hoping to recruit as a second stringer for the Harpies. James commented, making a thinly-veiled crass joke about Jones, after which Lily elbowed him, but not fast enough to prevent Dora, Ginny, Sirius and Remus to break out in laughter.

"Anyone up for some wine," Lily asked her guests, eliciting a moan from her soon-to-be daughter-in-law, whose whine sounded suspiciously like, "never again!"

Hermione only smiled politely and shook her head at the woman, taking a large gulp of lemonade instead. Sirius and Luna both also declined, sharing a look that Hermione suddenly grew entirely too suspicious of. Harry and Dora, however, gratefully accepted the proffered drink, and filled their glasses with the deep purple liquid.

"Someone's gotta drink through this obvious tension," Dora threw out, causing Hermione's lemonade to trickle down her throat unexpectedly. Coughing, she returned the glass to the table more forcefully than she would have ever intended. Acting swiftly, Sirius reached over and began to administer solid packs to her back.

"Breathe, pet," he said softly, resting his hand on her shoulder after her coughing settled down. She looked over at Tonks; the woman was smirking unapologetically behind her wine glass. Looking around the table, Hermione noticed almost everyone else was busy staring down at their plates to hide the amusement on their faces.

"Oh Merlin," Hermione whispered, resting her head on her hand as she, too, stared down at her food. Sirius, however, only slipped his hand further down her arm and laced his fingers through hers under the table and gave it a squeeze before asking James about his 007 game.

When Monday morning rolled around, Hermione was ready to get going. She was ecstatic at the possibility of seeing Cormac suspended after the dirty trick he'd pulled. She was also looking forward to seeing Ron, whom Harry told her had been sick over having unintentionally dosed her the previous week.

However, she was mostly eager to look over the case again. Hermione had felt, all of Saturday and most of Sunday, that she'd missed something on Friday– something huge. But both she and Sirius had been too tired and entirely too preoccupied to think straight.

Sirius was already in the office when she arrived, hovering over the snack table he'd recently restocked and stacking a cracker with different kinds of meats and cheeses. He glanced up just as she entered and sent her a wry look. He took a quick bite of his snack and got straight to work.

"So, Harry and I have taken care of McLaggen," he said, jogging the stack of parchments on his desk. "He'll be suspended for a month – would have only been two weeks, but since he attacked Weasley, too, then he's got quite a bit to answer for." He waggled his eyebrows at her as he continued, "don't expect to see him at the Cafe, either. Finnegan said he and Thomas won't welcome him to sit with them anymore, which is only slightly hilarious."

His words had left Hermione a little sour; she'd been looking forward to speaking out against Cormac herself, but she also couldn't begrudge Harry or Sirius the pleasure of taking care of it themselves. She tried not to let it eat at her.

She gave her paperwork a quick glance to catch herself up.

"So Penelope's likely somewhere she has access to the Magic Neep's stationary," she told Sirius. "She was able to snag an invoice and write something up before sending it to her husband. Because it was just an invoice, he was able to show it to us without much trouble."

Sirius thought for a minute, chewing on the corner of his lip. Hermione tried not to notice the movement.

"Well, I'll have Finnegan and Thomas go out and watch Clegg's place tonight. They'll have to do a thorough sweep and report back to us tomorrow morning. We need to know if Death Eaters are actually watching these muggles. If they are, we need extra security measures for all four of them."

Hermione agreed, stating Harry and Ron could go do a sweep by the Creevy and Montero residences as well, to cover their bases. She then began studying the maps of the Hogsmeade tunnel system Sirius had pinned up the week before. Most of the prominent caves had been explored, and she was itching to start up on some of the lesser known tunnels. There was one she was eager to search, as the entrance was only about a meter away from the Magic Neep.

The more she thought about the Neep, the more uneasy she felt. Her conversation with Bagely seemed harmless enough, but there was something about the nausea medication Bagely had recommended that wasn't sitting well with her. And then she remembered.

"Sirius," she called, stumbling back over to her desk and grabbing the potion recipe to hand to her partner. "You said there was something about this recipe that had stood out to you?"

Sirius briefly looked over the parchment he had taken from her. "You said the handwriting didn't match," he said. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"No, before I interrupted you, when I asked if anything stood out you mentioned something."

"Right," he nodded, locating the item quickly and turning the paper to show her. "She's got mandrake leaves in this potion. You don't typically see those in medicinal brews."

Confused, Hermione answered, "Yes you do. Everyone knows Mandrake is used in a variety of healing capacities. Like reversing petrification."

"Yeah, there's that. But Kitten," he said shaking his head, "that's mandrake root, not leaves. Mandrake leaves when combined with –," Sirius trailed off searching through the list of ingredients once more, and when his eyes landed on what he was looking for, his expression grew weary. "Shit," he muttered.

"Sirius, what is it?"

He looked up at her, expression grave, setting her nerves on edge.

"Typically, when Mandrake leaves are combined with lacewing flies–" Hermione's own gasp interrupted him.

"They become heavy aids for transfiguration," she finished. Both Aurors stood, looking at each other in horror as a realization dawned on them.

"Why would Bagely give you a transfiguration potion recipe, when you asked for an anti-nausea recipe," Sirius asked, cautiously.

"I… I'm not sure. But," she said, "I did happen to mention being muggle-born."

"Fuck," Sirius spat, beginning to pace. "So, our Penelope isn't much of an herbologist, nor is she potions master. If this is the same recipe Bagely gave her, then there's a pretty big chance Penelope made the potion and drank it."

"Which means she would have been transfigured."

"Into what?"

"Doesn't matter," Hermione said, resolutely. "If Death Eaters are watching her home, then they could have collected her as soon as the magic achieved it's goal. Then they could have moved her. The only problem we have, is now we don't know what we're looking for."

"Doesn't make sense, Kitten. Dennis is quite the potioneer, if Colin's to be believed."

"And it would have been his wife suffering pregnancy nausea, not him," she agreed, feet itching to start pacing.

The room was heavy with silence as each Auror thought over their discovery, over whether or not it was truly helpful, or if it was a bust end. Sirius looked up toward Hermione as she paced, pulling her hair back and piling it atop her head and securing it with her wand. He watched her wistfully, unable to turn his gaze away from her in this moment, or any similar moment, when she was so deep in thought that her face simply shone with her busy thoughts.

His reverie was broken, however, when the door to their office swung open and let in the Head Auror.

"Black," Robards barked. "You requested aid from the Eastern European division." Sirius jumped to attention.

"I did? Yes, I did," he remembered, turning back to Hermione with a smile. Hermione faced him with a dazzling smile of her own. He knew a report from the teams currently stationed in Romania would help satisfy her curiosity. To try to help her on that front, without physically taking her to the God-forsaken country, he'd put in a request for a full report on Corabia; a full report he'd forgotten he'd requested until this very moment.

A full request he was immensely pleased to have requested as Hermione's face lit up the office with her own pleasure.

"One of the Corabia team has actually chosen to portkey in to us just to speak with the two of you," Robards said, stepping to the side to allow the stocky Auror enough room to enter. Sirius wasn't paying any mind to the two men in his office, his entire focus on the witch he'd called this favor in for. Robards continued, "He'll be here for the week, and he's completely at your disposal. Ask him anything you want, but I expect to see results by the time he leaves."

Hermione's face went from radiantly pleased to confused very, almost in the blink of an eye. Her beautiful face contorted, brow furrowing as she looked at the newcomer.

"Herm-own-ninny?"

"Viktor?"

Sirius barely had time to register his own confusion when his witch had suddenly flown into the arms of the bulky Eastern European standing at his office door. The smile was back on her face, her eyes closed in utter bliss as the large arms wrapped completely around her frame, dwarfing her.

"Herm-own-ninny," the idiot in black said again, like a punch to Sirius's gut. "I have not dreamed to see you again so soon," he said, laughing and picking the girl up, swinging her legs from side to side.

Sirius stood there, looking between the two with a profound lack of understanding, and a profound lack of desire to understand. Whoever this bloke was, he decided, he'd have to get rid of him. Soon.