After confirming with Theo that his father had left the Nott Manor early that morning and wouldn't be seen until the Werewolf Gala that night, Hermione Floo'd over, Theo meeting her in the foyer.

"My plan for your first favor will work," she told him, cutting to the chase. "Do you have the Polyjuice Potion and one of your mother's hairs?"

Theo nodded. "I have a camera, too."

"Excellent." Hermione glanced around. "…you don't have any grisly anti-muggle wards on your house, do you?"

Theo snickered. "Not for centuries. That kind of thing decays if you don't renew it. My father's never bothered."

"Great." Hermione looked around. "Where do you want to take your photos? In here? In your reading room?"

Theo paused, eyes widening. It was clear he hadn't considered the finer details of this before.

"I think in here," he said slowly. "She liked this room. And maybe also in the Piano Room – she used to play piano…"

He trailed off, looking away, and Hermione looked around awkwardly.

"Do you want to wear anything special?" she asked. "You could go change into your favorite robes while I go handle this, and then we meet up?"

"That'll work." Theo nodded, blinking fiercely to keep the wetness back. "I—I have one of her favorite robes, too. If you're willing—"

"Of course," Hermione assured him. "I'll just go back to my house and Floo back over once everything's ready, shall I?"

"Okay." Theo took a deep breath. "Granger – Hermione – I know you're just repaying a favor, but… thanks. For this."

Hermione smiled weakly.

"Don't thank me just yet," she warned. "Let's wait and see how all this goes first."


Back at her own house, Hermione was busy despairing on her parents' bed while her mother changed. She'd thought this was a good idea at first, but now she was doubting herself.

"I don't know what she would say," Hermione told her mother. "Like, obviously it would need to not be practical logistical things – the last thing he wants to hear is 'your father pushed me' – but what would she say?"

"I imagine she'd say the type of thing any mother would say to their child," her mother said, doing up the buttons on the blue robes Theo had given Hermione. "My! This waistline – this woman must have been a waif."

"You can drink the potion now and then hurry up to finish the buttons?" Hermione said, gnawing on her lip. "We'll have time, just not a lot of it, and I don't know how long this whole thing with Theo will take—"

"Hermione." Her mother gave her a reassuring look. "It will be fine. You did well for your friend, asking for help like this."

"I just—" Hermione exhaled, jittering her foot. "I don't know what to do. I feel anxious."

"Just work the camera," her mother assured her. "I can handle the rest."

Hermione led her mother to the fireplace. She picked up the flask Theo had given her and dropped the hairs into it, making it bubble and hiss, before handing the potion to her mother.

"It's going to taste gross and thick," she warned her. "Be prepared to swallow it even though it's awful."

Her mother quirked a smile. "Thanks for the warning."

Hermione watched as her mother downed the potion, gagging and grimacing by the end. It only lasted for a moment, though, as her skin began bubbling and changing – her small wrinkles smoothing out, her hair turning to a straight, dark brown as her body shrunk a few inches. When the transformation stopped, her mother quickly did up the rest of the buttons on the robes.

"Ready?" she asked Hermione. Hermione took a deep breath and threw a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace.

"Nott Manor!"

Hermione went through first, arriving to see Theo had changed into very nice dark brown robes. He was holding a camera, and his eyes widened upon seeing her.

"Wait, what—"

Her mother came through a moment after (or Theo's mother now, really, Hermione mused), straightening and dusting off her robes as she emerged. She turned to look at Theo, who had frozen, and Hermione watched as her mother gave Theo a soft smile.

"Just look at you," she said. Her voice was softer, gentle. "You're all grown up, aren't you?"

With a strangled noise, Theo launched himself at her, clutching her around the waist. Hermione dove for the dropped camera, and when she straightened, Theo had buried his head in her mother's shoulder and was hugging her tightly, her mother stroking his back soothingly, reassuring.

"It's okay, Teddy," she told him softly. "It's okay."

"'s not okay." Theo's voice came out mumbled from her robes. "Dad is off being evil, and I—I miss you—"

"Well, I'm here now, aren't I?" she said gently. "And what your father does is no concern of yours. You're growing up into your own man, Theo. I'm so proud of you."

Theo pulled back slightly, sniffing and rubbing his nose with the back of his sleeve. He sniffed again, his race red and blotchy.

"Sorry. I—I know you're not my real mum," he said, hesitating. "But—"

"For the next hour, I am your mother," Hermione's mother reassured him, smiling. "Okay?"

Theo sniffled. "…okay."

"How have you been doing?" her mother asked, genuine concern and care in her voice. "It's been so long since I've seen you – you've grown up so much."

Hermione was somewhat surprised to see Theo fall into the fantasy immediately. She didn't quite know what to think – how would she react, if she were in his place? If she'd been prevented from mourning her mother for years? Maybe since he'd decided to do this and ask her for help, he'd figured he might as well go all the way and go full throttle...

Still. Seeing Theo be so vulnerable…

"I—I've been okay, I guess," Theo told her mother, sniffing. "I'm at Hogwarts, now – Slytherin house—"

Her mother laughed.

"We always knew it would be Slytherin," she teased him, ruffling his hair fondly. "Either Slytherin or Ravenclaw, but I knew you were too sharp to be happy with a bunch of bookish birds."

Theo looked startled, then he laughed, the sound more like a sob than a chuckle.

"You always used to say that," he said. "That I was too shrewd to be happy in Ravenclaw."

"Was I wrong?" his mother asked, teasing. "Do you think you'd be happier if you'd ended up in Ravenclaw?"

Theo considered. "…no. I like Slytherin – Ravenclaw, they never seem to put the whole picture together. They keep everything they learn abstracted instead of applying it."

Hermione did her best to ignore the conversation, discreetly taking pictures of the two of them interacting. The number of remaining exposures on the camera was in the hundreds – Theo could always throw out the ones he didn't want.

"Shall we go to the piano?" His mother smiled down at Theo. "Do you remember how to play anything?"

Theo laughed weakly. "Very little. I—I stopped playing, after you—after you went away."

"It must have been a painful reminder." His mother nodded. "I'm sorry I left you like that."

"It wasn't your fault," Theo told her immediately. "I know it wasn't—"

"Nevertheless, I've missed out on you growing up," she told him. She paused, looking into his eyes. "I wish I'd been there for every moment, Teddy. I wish I'd been there to see you off to school for the first time. I wish I'd been there for your first wand."

Theo laughed weakly. "I had the one since I was four."

"First legal wand, then," her mother teased, and Theo snickered.

Her mother was a genius at this, Hermione thought. She effortlessly guided Theo into poses, keeping him distracted with conversation as Hermione did her best to take photos as they posed. It was a bit surreal, too – her mother asking Theo about his favorite classes, what he wanted to do when he graduated, like he was her real child.

"I know I'll be on the Wizengamot someday, and I've got the estate to run," Theo told her. "But I—I don't know. I kind of just want to ward the entire manor and lock myself up. Just leave the world alone to explode and only come out after it's all done."

"Conflict is hard," her mother sympathized. "But I'm proud of you, Theo – I'm so proud of you already."

"I just said I wanted to run away and hide," Theo protested. "How is that something to be proud of?"

"Because it means you're thinking for yourself," she told him gently, smiling. "You're not following in your father's footsteps. You've looked at what he's done, and you've looked at yourself, and you've decided that's not the type of man you want to be."

"But I don't know what I do want to be." Theo's voice was plaintive, an angst there that Hermione had never heard in his voice before. "I can't just not be a bunch of things. I have to be something myself."

"Well," her mother said kindly. "What type of person do you want to be?"

Hermione took photos of the two of them as Theo told her mother he wanted to be someone respected, someone wise, someone people looked up to and came to for advice. Hermione kept an eye on her watch as she did, aware of the dwindling time they had. The last thing she wanted was for the Polyjuice to wear off in front of Theo and break his illusion.

"You need a role model," her mother advised him. "Someone to look up to, who you want to be like."

"Like Snape?" Theo asked.

"…he wouldn't be my first choice of a role model for my son," her mother said wryly, amused. "Far too gloomy and sarcastic. No, I was thinking someone like Jean-Luc Picard."

Theo faltered. "Who?"

"Ah, right – you don't get television waves here," her mother said, glossing over it. "Someone like Jean Valjean in Les Miserables, then, or Sherlock Holmes, maybe, minus the drug addiction. Though you do remind me a bit of Hamlet, given the circumstances."

Theo looked lost, and her mother gave him a gentle smile.

"Whoever you grow up to be," she told him, "Know that I will be proud of you. I am already so proud of you, Theo – and I love you so much."

"I love you too, Mum—"

Hermione looked away as Theo hugged her (his?) mother tightly. She suspected he was probably crying again and would want the privacy. Her mother didn't seem bothered by it, though – she just stroked his hair and murmured softly into his ear, soothing and reassuring.

When there was only five minutes left, Hermione gestured to her watch behind Theo's back, and her mother nodded once sharply at Hermione.

"Now, Theo, you know I have to go," she told him, gently extracting herself from his embrace. "It was so good to see you again. I've missed out on so much."

"It's okay." Theo's voice was thick as he escorted her to the fireplace. "It's not your fault."

"No, it's not, but that doesn't mean I don't regret it." Her mother looked at him directly, holding both of his hands. "I will miss you, Theo. But if you remember me, I will live on in your heart, guiding you as you make your own way in life."

"I miss you, Mum." Theo's voice was lost, choked up. "I miss you so much."

"I know," her mother said, her voice full of sorrow. "I know, sweet boy. I miss you too."

She leaned in and gently pressed a kiss to his forehead, Theo's eyes closing. She took a step back, her hand gently laid on his upper arm, before she looked at Hermione, who hurried over.

"Hermione's House," she hissed into the fire, tossing in the Floo powder, and the flames turned green.

"I'm so proud of you, Theo," her mother said, stepping backwards toward the flames. "No matter what happens, know that I am so proud of you, and I will always love you, Theo."

She stepped into the fireplace, vanishing in a whoosh as Theo started openly crying, and Hermione hurried after her mother, going through quickly before the green flames went out. She stumbled out of her own fireplace a moment later to her mother dusting ashes out of her hair.

"That went well, I think," she said, sounding pleased. "Did you get the photo you needed?"

"I mean, I think so." Hermione bit her lip. "You really think it went well? He was crying most of the time."

"I think he needed to cry," her mother said simply, undoing the blue robes she wore. "I don't think he ever really emotionally handled the death of his mother. Hopefully he has a bit more closure now."

Hermione watched as her mother's form began to bubble and shift, growing and filling out more, hair lightening to a sandy brown. One of the seams on the robes split, and her mother sighed, having not gotten out of them fast enough.

"Closure. Yeah," Hermione said, her mind on the cold corpse of his mother buried deep in his basement, her ghost chained to it for eternity. "Closure will help."