A/N: Not my sandbox, just my sand castle. I don't own anything from Harry Potter. Additionally, no one has permission to bind and sell my works, fandom or otherwise. Shame on you for exploiting other people's works!

Hello everyone! Welcome back to another fic :) not gonna lie, I wrote this while at Girl Scout camp, just like everything else that I write this time of year. Hope you enjoy!

This one is for Round 5 of The Houses Competition, where I'm in Gryffindor House and writing for Potions. This competition, we have to write a drabble (500-1000 words) as well as a standard (1000-3000 words). This fic is the Drabble of the two. Prompts are listed below.

Thank you kindly to Queenie and Dora for the beta!

Word Count: 995

Disclaimers/Warnings: mild mention of a hand wound

Summary: Hermione pricks herself on a book in Grimmauld Place, and discovers that she's a bit more magical than she thought.

Prompts:

The Houses Competition Y11 R5

Drabble: (Object) a book with thorns

"Book of Shadows"

Biting back a curse word, Hermione jerked her hand back from the bookshelf, nursing her pinched finger. She was with Ginny in the library at Grimmauld Place, anxiously awaiting Harry's arrival. Her pacing had annoyed Mrs Weasley, so she had been banished from the kitchen where everyone had been gathered. Ginny had followed afterwards, bored out of her mind with the wait as well. Hermione had been browsing the books deemed to be 'safe' by the adults, but they must have missed one.

"It's like the Monster Book of Monsters," Hermione muttered to herself, squinting in the low light to see if she could spot the offending piece of literature that had pricked her.

"Hmm? Did you say something?" Ginny asked distractedly, turning her face towards Hermione but not taking her eyes off of the Quidditch magazine in her hands.

"Nothing," Hermione replied, stepping closer to the shelf once more. All of the books looked the same to her, even with Hermione's vast experience of old and foreboding books through her perusal of the Hogwarts library. Hesitating for a moment, Hermione pulled her book bag to her–she had started keeping it in the library for easy reach when she had a random thought that kept her up late into the night–and reached in to grab her hair scarf. Wrapping it around her hand that had been bitten, Hermione reached back into the bookshelves.

A moment later had her pulling back, a book in hand. It was an all black leather journal, wrapped in a leather cord that mimicked a leafy vine with thorns on it.

"That must have been what pricked me," Hermione muttered.

"What?" Ginny asked. Hermione jumped, having forgotten the other girl was there.

"Oh, nothing!" Hermione replied, hastily shoving the book in her bag before the redhead could look up. Hermione was just unwrapping her hand when Ginny finally looked up from her magazine.

"Hermione!" she exclaimed. "What happened?"

Hermione looked down at her hand to find it already red and irritated. The thorns had pricked the palm of her hand, and Hermione scowled at her own carelessness. "It's fine. Must have gripped a book too hard, or something."

Ginny side-eyed her and opened her mouth to interrogate her when the sound of the front door slamming open caught their attention. Mrs Black started screaming about filthy half-bloods, and Hermione's breath caught in her throat.

"Harry." She and Ginny dashed out of the room and raced downstairs to greet Harry.

Neither of them saw the flash of light coming from Hermione's bag–left on the seat where Hermione had dropped it in her haste–nor the leathery cord with thorns suddenly retracting into the book. The silver title glowed brightly in the low light, before dimming, the book shuddering for a moment as if giving a breath of relief.

The Book of Shadows.

Properly chastised by Harry for refusing to write to him and listening to Professor Dumbledore's words, Hermione slunk back into the library to read. Harry was right. She should have found a way to get ahold of him. She could have found a spell, or a magical method of communication, or even tried to send Muggle mail! She had his Aunt's address. How easy would it have been for her to just send him a letter?

But she knew why she had just taken Professor Dumbledore at his word.

He was Professor Dumbledore, after all.

"Some friend I am," Hermione muttered to herself. Settling down in the chair she had claimed when she had moved in, Hermione reached for her bag to find her parchment and ink. The least she could do was write Harry an apology letter now.

Her fingers brushed the book and she jerked her hand out of her bag on reflex, expecting to get pricked again.

Nothing happened.

Hermione peered into her book bag to find the book with thorns from earlier visibly changed. The cover seemed more sleek, the wording elegant, and the strip of thorns that had encircled it was gone. Pulling it out, she marveled at the cover and the title, before opening up the book.

"The Black Family Grimoire…" Hermione whispered aloud.

"Yes, do tell me, Miss Granger," a voice said from the doorway to the library. Hermione jumped in surprise, whirling around in her seat to find Sirius standing there. He stepped forward and closed the library door behind him. "How is it that you are able to touch the family grimoire without suffering? Anyone who doesn't have Black blood who tries to touch this particular book would be cursed most unpleasantly."

"Well, it cut me earlier," Hermione stated, holding out her injured hand to show him.

Except her hand had nary a scratch on it.

"So it took your blood and found you worthy," Sirius replied quietly, as if contemplating something. "Miss Granger…Hermione," he corrected himself. "In the Muggle world, were you…adopted?"

And in that moment, everything fell into place for her.

"No," Hermione whispered out, her eyes widening as Sirius' lips pursed.

"Hermione, would you like to look at the family tapestry?" he asked.

"I can't be," she replied quietly, sinking back into her seat. Drawing closer, Sirius pulled the book from her hands and flipped to the front page.

"Tell me, what do you see here," he asked, realizing she wasn't ready yet to visit the tapestry room. Hermione took a moment to calm down before looking down at the page he pointed to.

"It's the family tree," she replied quietly.

"An outdated one, yes," Sirius replied. "But if I do this–" He pressed the tip of his wand against the page and a flare of magic lit the page up with light. The light faded after a few moments, and then–"

"Who's Regulus?"

"Your father, apparently," Sirius replied somberly. "He died, unfortunately. From the tree, it looks like he died shortly before you were born."

"What–what happened?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know. But I bet your mother would."