As it turned out, Teddy was completely fine the next day, evident from the cheerful Patronus that Remus had sent her—at her insistence—letting her know his son was full of energy and back to his usual self. But Hermione wasn't so lucky. The moment she woke up, she groaned, feeling the unmistakable stuffiness clogging her nose. It seemed that despite Remus's reassurances, Teddy had managed to pass on the last remnants of his cold.

Hermione buried herself deeper under the covers, annoyed but also oddly amused by the situation. She wanted to curse Remus out just a little bit for not being cautious enough, but then again, how could she regret it? Meeting Teddy had been a bright spot, even if it came with a side of germs.

She rolled over, tugging the duvet around her tighter as if it could ward off the inevitable cold creeping in. Maybe a little more sleep would chase it away—or at the very least, make her forget about it for a while.

It was Sirius who found her two days later, fever running rampant, still in bed, barely having moved at all in that time frame. "You really don't do anything halfway," he commented, surveying the sorry state she was in, the room thick with the smell of sweat and sickness.

"Sirius?" Hermione croaked, surprised to see him. "What are you doing here?"

"Moony sent out the S.O.S. Apparently, you haven't been responding to his Patronus messages, and he was getting worried."

"Why didn't he come himself?" she grumbled.

"Andi's off at some Healer conference, and he didn't want to bring Teddy over, just in case this was catching."

"Teddy gave me this in the first place," she muttered, though there was a hint of fondness in her voice. "The least he could do is help me get better."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Well, I'm the one here now, so up you get. You need a shower," he said, scrunching up his nose dramatically. "This room smells like a potions lab gone wrong."

"You are such a dad," she mumbled into her pillow.

"And you are such a child," Sirius shot back with a smirk. "Still haven't learned to actually take care of yourself, I see."

"Not like I had to before. I had Remus for that," she replied, trying to ignore the pounding in her head.

Sirius chuckled, standing at the edge of the bed with his arms crossed. "Well, Remus isn't here now, is he? So you're stuck with me. Come on, Minnie. I'm not leaving until you're at least somewhat functional."

With a groan, Hermione slowly sat up, blinking blearily at him. "You're really not going to let this go, are you?"

"Not a chance," he said with a grin. "Now, let's get you sorted. Shower first, then potions. You'll feel better in no time."

Hermione sighed but couldn't help but smile a little. Trust Sirius to swoop in when she least expected it.

By the time Hermione got out of the shower, her room had been transformed with a few flicks of a wand. The sheets on her bed were freshly changed, the window was open to let in the crisp air, and a steaming bottle of Pepper-Up potion was waiting for her on the bedside table. She drank it gratefully, feeling the warmth spread through her chest, ears steaming as the potion worked its magic.

Still in her pyjamas, though a fresh set at that, she stumbled into the living room where Sirius was just placing a bowl of steaming soup on the table. "When did you become so… domestic?" she asked, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Sirius smirked as he sat down across from her. "You would too if you had Marlene on your case for two decades."

Hermione studied him properly for the first time since her return. The chaotic meeting at King's Cross hadn't given her the time to really take in the changes, but now, as she looked at him, the differences between this Sirius and the one she'd known in her original timeline were stark. This Sirius hadn't spent twelve years in Azkaban; there was no haunted look in his eyes, no gauntness in his face. He was whole, happy, and... healthy. She felt a surge of overwhelming gratitude wash over her, realising that her efforts had ensured not only Harry's but Sirius's good life as well.

Before she could stop herself, tears welled up in her eyes. Sirius, noticing but misinterpreting the emotion, frowned in concern. "Are you alright, Minnie bean? You're not still feeling sick, are you?"

Hermione quickly shook her head, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. "No, no… it's not that. It's just... you're okay." Her voice wavered slightly, but she managed to give him a watery smile.

Sirius looked at her, clearly confused but softened by her emotion. "Of course I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be?" he asked, still not quite understanding but offering her a reassuring grin.

Hermione laughed through her tears, the weight of everything she had fought for, all the loss and sacrifice, bubbling to the surface. "You have no idea how glad I am to see you like this," she whispered.

Sirius's smile faltered slightly, and for a moment, he simply watched her, something unspoken passing between them. Then, he reached across the table to give her hand a firm squeeze, his voice softer but firm. "Hey," he said, his gaze locking with hers. "None of that, alright? No looking at me like you're expecting some ghost of myself. None of that happened, Hermione."

She blinked, the tears in her eyes still threatening to spill over. "But it did… in my timeline, it did."

Sirius shook his head slightly, his expression filled with an understanding that almost hurt her more. "Not here. Not now. I'm right here, I'm whole, and you did that. You gave us this future, this chance. So stop acting like you're still carrying that weight. It's over."

Hermione felt her chest tighten, the words hitting her deeper than she expected. "I know, but… I can't just forget it, you know?"

"I'm not asking you to forget," Sirius said, squeezing her hand again, more gently this time. "But I am asking you to live. You've done more than enough for all of us. Now it's time to stop looking back. You're allowed to be happy too, Hermione."

His words were a balm to her soul, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she allowed herself to believe it might be true. "Thank you," she whispered again, her voice thick with emotion.

Sirius grinned then, his usual mischievousness returning. "Now, enough with this emotional rubbish. Eat your soup before I force-feed it to you. You've had me worried enough as it is."

Hermione chuckled, wiping away the last of her tears. "Alright, alright. I'll eat. But don't expect me to get sick just for you again, alright?"

Sirius laughed, leaning back in his chair. "Deal. But if you do, you know who to call."

"Tell me about your sons," Hermione changed the topic quickly.

Sirius's smile broadened as he leaned back in his chair. "Ah, my boys. Another generation of Blacks. It's exciting, yeah. Leo and Castor—though we just call him Cas. Twins—fifteen now, just finished their O.W.L.s year at Hogwarts. Born on the 30th of July, almost sharing a birthday with Harry, just two years apart. The birthday parties are always a riot."

Hermione grinned, imagining the chaos of the three boys all celebrating together. "I bet they're a handful."

"Absolutely. Two Black boys running wild? You can imagine," Sirius said with a laugh. "Leo's got that rebellious streak, just like me. Always pushing boundaries, trying to get a rise out of people. He's quick, though, and likes to talk a lot like his mum. Marlene always says he's too much like me for his own good."

"And Cas?" Hermione asked, curious about the other twin.

"Cas is a bit quieter," Sirius said, his tone softening. "Still sharp as a tack, but he's more thoughtful. The calm to Leo's storm. It's funny—they balance each other out perfectly. And the two of them? They're inseparable. It's like having two halves of the same person running around."

Hermione smiled warmly, imagining the dynamic between the two boys. "Must've been interesting, having them so close to Harry in age."

"Oh, you've no idea," Sirius chuckled. "Like I said, the birthday parties, every year, are complete chaos. With Harry, Leo, and Cas all lumped together, it's like trying to herd a pack of nundus. But they've grown up together, practically like brothers."

"That's... really lovely," Hermione said quietly, her heart swelling at the thought of Sirius getting to experience the kind of life he'd never had in the original timeline.

"It is," Sirius agreed, his voice soft. "I never thought I'd have this. Leo, Cas, Marlene… a family. And Harry's right there with us, of course. It's everything I never knew I wanted. And you can't forget little Mina, but I'll let Prongs and Lily tell you about that one."

Hermione nodded, a small smile forming. "Oh, I saw her at Hogwarts and at the train station. She's got James's look, but from what I can tell, her personality? All Lily."

Sirius grinned. "Yeah, she's a firecracker like her mum. Bloody brilliant, in Ravenclaw you know, just finished fourth year, and she doesn't let anyone walk over her. But she's got that same fierce loyalty, the kind Lily always had. James is hopelessly wrapped around her finger."

Hermione chuckled. "I can imagine. She looked like she could give anyone a run for their money. But she also seemed so composed—like she's already got everything figured out."

"That's the Lily in her," Sirius said, leaning back. "She's got that same sense of calm determination. But don't let that fool you—she's every bit as mischievous as her brother when she wants to be."

"Another Marauder in the making?" Hermione teased.

Sirius winked. "Maybe. But you know, it's different this time around. They're growing up in a better world. No looming threat of Voldemort, no war to fight."

Hermione's smile softened as she thought about it. "That's all I ever wanted—for them to have a chance to live without that fear."

"And they do, thanks to you," Sirius said, his tone sincere.

Hermione sneezed suddenly into the crook of her elbow, the sound startling them both.

"Aaand that is my cue to leave before I catch my death from you," Sirius said, standing up quickly and making a show of brushing off his jacket.

Hermione snorted. "Aw, the mighty Sirius Black, afraid of a little bit of germs? You didn't seem to have a problem with me bunking in your dorm at the end of seventh year with the impressive head cold I had at the time."

"Yeah, well, since then I've had kids, and let me tell you—I've had enough snot to fill a lifetime with, thank you very much." He shuddered dramatically, wrinkling his nose. "I don't know what it is about toddler germs, but they're like dark magic. You always catch them, no matter what."

"I'm not a toddler," Hermione shot back, rolling her eyes.

Sirius pointed at her with mock accusation. "But you said you got it from Teddy, so the toddler germs have claimed you. And now, before I fall victim to it—goodbye, feel better." He gave her a cheeky grin and, with a flourish, made his way to the door.

"Big baby," she muttered as he left.

Hermione was feeling much better by the next day, and it was just as well because Lily was eager to get everyone together for a proper reunion. She insisted they do it that Sunday, as soon as she returned from her conference—apparently the same one Andi was attending. There was no getting out of it—not that Hermione wanted to.

Everyone gathered at Potter Manor, which Hermione learned was now home to Lily and James after Effie and Monty had passed away. Dragon Pox had taken them, though later than in her original timeline, allowing them to meet their grandson, Harry. It was bittersweet, knowing they had at least been able to share those precious moments with their family.

When Sirius arrived through the Floo, sniffling slightly, barely containing a cough, he wasted no time pointing a finger at Remus, who had just entered with Teddy in his arms.

"I'm blaming you, Moony!" Sirius declared dramatically, sniffling again for effect.

Remus looked at him, genuinely confused. "What did I do?"

"Here," Lily interrupted, stepping in before Sirius's theatrics could infect the entire room. She handed him a vial of Pepper-Up Potion. "Effie's recipe. Now stop whining before you get all of us sick."

"Thank Merlin, woman," Sirius groaned in relief, downing the potion in one go as steam shot out of his ears.

Marlene rolled her eyes at him. "Honestly, Sirius, you've faced Death Eaters and duelled the worst of them in the 70s, and this is what does you in? A little sniffle?"

Sirius shot her a playful glare, though the smirk on his face betrayed his enjoyment of the attention. "Hey, I'll have you know toddler germs are a menace. Far worse than any Death Eater."

Hermione laughed, feeling a warmth in her chest that she hadn't felt in a long time. It was good to be surrounded by them again, in this different but happier timeline.

As the group settled into comfortable conversations, Lily approached Hermione with a gentle smile. "Hermione," she said softly, "I'd like you to meet our daughter. I'm sorry it slipped my mind on the platform with all the excitement."

Hermione turned to see the young girl she had noticed at Hogwarts and the train station. She looked strikingly like James with her messy dark hair and warm hazel eyes, but there was a spark in her gaze that was all Lily.

"Hi," the girl said, offering a shy smile. "I'm Mina."

Hermione's heart skipped a beat at the name. "Mina," she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's lovely to finally meet you properly."

Mina grinned, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Mum and Dad have told me a lot about you."

Hermione glanced at Lily, who nodded with a knowing smile. "We named her after someone very special to us," Lily explained. "She was born on October 31st, 1983, and it seemed only fitting to name her after Mina Delacour."

A lump formed in Hermione's throat as she realised the significance. "I... I'm honoured," she managed to say, her eyes shimmering with emotion.

James joined them, wrapping an arm around Mina's shoulders. "She's got my looks but her mum's brilliance," he said proudly. "Top of her class in Ravenclaw."

Mina rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Dad, you're embarrassing me."

Lily chuckled. "Well, it's true. And she's got a knack for potion-making that even Professor Slughorn admires."

Hermione smiled warmly at Mina. "It sounds like you're making quite a name for yourself at Hogwarts."

Mina shrugged modestly. "I just like learning new things. Maybe you could tell me some stories about your time at school? Mum and Dad's stories are great, but I'd love to hear yours."

"I'd be happy to," Hermione replied. "Perhaps later we can sit down and chat?"

"I'd like that," Mina agreed, her eyes lighting up. Just then, Harry called her over to join a game with the twins. "Coming!" she called back before turning to Hermione once more. "It was really nice meeting you."

"You too, Mina," Hermione said, watching as she dashed off.

As Mina joined the others, Hermione turned back to Lily and James. "Thank you," she said softly. "For... everything."

Lily placed a hand on her arm. "No, thank you, Hermione. You gave us the chance to have this life, to have our family."

James nodded, his expression sincere. "We can't ever repay you for what you've done."

Hermione shook her head, a gentle smile on her face. "Seeing all of you like this is more than enough."

Lily squeezed her arm gently. "You're part of this family too, you know. Don't ever forget that."

Feeling a sense of belonging wash over her, Hermione smiled brighter. "I won't. And I'd love to be a part of it."

"Good," James said with a grin. "Now, how about we join the others before Sirius decides to start another one of his infamous pranks?"

Hermione laughed. "Lead the way."

As they settled into the cosy living room of Potter Manor, the conversation shifted naturally from old stories to lighter topics. Sirius was teasing Remus about his greying hair, while James tried to juggle a particularly hyperactive Teddy, who had latched onto Harry's leg like a limpet.

Lily, meanwhile, turned to Hermione with a curious smile. "So, Hermione... now that you're officially done with school again, what's next? Any grand plans for the future?"

Hermione paused for a moment, a thoughtful look crossing her face. For the first time in so long, she didn't have a meticulously thought-out plan. No Horcruxes to hunt, no war to win, no immediate goal looming over her. She shook her head with a small, almost bemused smile.

"I honestly don't know," she admitted, glancing around at her friends and family. "For the first time in... well, I don't even know how long, I don't have anything planned."

Sirius let out a bark of laughter, clapping her on the shoulder. "Finally, Minnie! You're at rest!"

James smirked, chiming in, "No checklists? No twenty-year battle strategies? Merlin's beard, this might be a sign of the apocalypse."

Hermione laughed, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders. "It's weird, isn't it? I've spent so much of my life with everything planned out to the tiniest detail, and now... there's just this open space ahead of me."

"Sounds like you deserve a break," Remus said, his voice warm. "Maybe some time to figure out what you really want, without the weight of saving the world hanging over you."

"I think he's right," Lily added with a gentle smile. "You've done enough. It's okay to take a step back and breathe for a bit."

Hermione nodded, a slow smile spreading across her face. "I suppose you're right. It feels strange, but... I think I could get used to it."

"Next thing we know, she'll be relaxing on a beach somewhere, sipping cocktails," Sirius teased, leaning back in his chair. "Mark my words."

"Don't tempt me," Hermione shot back with a grin. "After everything, I think a holiday might be exactly what I need."

Harry piped up from where he was playing with the younger kids at the table, catching everyone's attention. "Why don't we actually do that? Go on a holiday, I mean."

The adults turned to him, a bit surprised, but amused. Sirius raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a grin. "A holiday? All of us together?"

"Yeah, why not?" Harry said, shrugging as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "We could all use a break. After everything we've been through—whether it was in this timeline or the other—you lot especially deserve a holiday."

Hermione blinked, taken aback. The idea hadn't even crossed her mind, but now that Harry mentioned it, it didn't sound half bad. "I mean... that's not a terrible idea."

Sirius clapped his hands together. "It's settled then! A Black-Potter-Lupin-Granger family holiday. I'm sure we can find some nice place with a beach, cocktails, and no responsibilities."

"Somewhere far from the Ministry," James added with a grin, "and definitely somewhere far from any newspapers."

Lily laughed, leaning into James. "Well, if you're all serious, I'm all for it. Merlin knows we could all use a breather."

"See? Mum's in," Harry said, looking around at everyone expectantly. "What do you think, Hermione?"

Hermione glanced around the room, still a bit surprised that this was becoming a real thing. But then she realised how appealing it actually sounded. No responsibilities, no pressure, just time to unwind with the people she loved.

"I think," she said slowly, her smile growing, "that it might be exactly what we all need."

Sirius raised his glass. "To holidays, then! And to finally, finally getting a bit of peace and quiet."

Everyone raised their drinks, and even the kids joined in with their pumpkin juice. As the laughter and chatter continued around her, Hermione felt a warmth spread through her chest. A holiday sounded perfect. It was time to make new memories, away from the shadows of the past.

Of course, planning a holiday wasn't as simple as Harry had made it sound, especially with so many people involved. They had to account for various schedules: the full moon on July 9th, Hermione's graduation on July 18th, and both Lily and James needing to arrange time off from their respective jobs—St. Mungo's for Lily, and the DMLE for James.

Hermione had also found out something new—Sirius had quit the Aurors after all the Death Eaters were rounded up, preferring to take on a more prominent role in the Wizengamot. James, to her surprise, was now head Auror, something that apparently horrified Mad-Eye Moody. The old Auror had lost his eye chasing dark wizards post-war, and now had the magical, penetrating eye Hermione remembered from her previous timeline.

Marlene, meanwhile, wasn't working anymore, claiming that marrying well meant she didn't have to. However, she still served on the board of the Werewolf Foundation that Hermione had started as Mina. All in all, there was some time to kill before their holiday could be properly planned and executed.

During this lull, Remus insisted on transferring back all the money that wasn't tied up in the foundation. "I have a salary, Hermione," he had told her with a smile. "I've no use for the money." Hermione had begrudgingly agreed, though this meant she now needed to open a vault in Gringotts—a disconcerting thought, considering how little she had been integrated into wizarding society, even in her original timeline. She had never needed a vault as Hermione Granger, always exchanging Muggle currency when necessary. Even as Mina Delacour, Dumbledore had handled this part.

So, there she was in Diagon Alley, heading towards Gringotts, not entirely paying attention to where she was going. She collided with someone hard enough to nearly knock her over.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't looking where I—" she began, but stopped short when she looked up. Standing in front of her was Regulus Black. "Regulus."

For a moment, they both froze. Regulus looked at her, clearly puzzled, and Hermione could see the gears turning in his head. His sharp eyes narrowed slightly, not understanding how this stranger knew him. Hermione, on the other hand, quickly realised her mistake. She had never officially met Regulus under this name.

She wasn't actually quite sure what did it. Maybe because she had shrunk back her teeth to match what she had after the fourth year mishap in the original timeline, or the fact that she had her hair in a simple up-do and smoothed out by a Sleekeazy potion James insisted was much better than anything she knew, his father having tinkered with it some more after her disappearance, but a wave of recognition suddenly bloomed across his face. "Mina Delacour," he said in a low tone, his voice holding a note of disbelief.

Hermione's heart skipped a beat. Of course, he would remember her in this look from the wedding. Not to mention that he had practically risked everything to help her destroy that Horcrux all those years ago. It was a miracle the Dark Lord never caught onto his betrayal.

"No, not here," Hermione hissed, glancing around quickly to make sure no one had overheard. "It's Hermione Granger, actually."

Regulus's eyes darkened with a mixture of confusion and understanding. "You're still alive," he muttered, his voice laced with shock.

Hermione felt a surge of awkwardness, not really sure how to respond. Falling back into old habits, she blurted out, "How's Kreacher? I assume Sirius gave him to you."

Regulus didn't answer immediately, his eyes still trained on her face. "You didn't age a day," he finally said, the words almost an accusation, his gaze intense and searching.

"It's... complicated," Hermione replied, unsure of how much to reveal.

"I bet," Regulus muttered, still staring at her as if trying to make sense of the woman standing before him.

After a beat, he finally addressed her earlier question. "Kreacher is fine, in large thanks to you. As am I." There was a note of something in his voice—perhaps gratitude, though buried deep beneath layers of Black family reserve.

Hermione offered a small, tentative smile. "I'm glad to hear that."

The air between them was heavy with unspoken history, and Hermione wondered if he had spent years thinking about that night in the cave, the Horcrux, and the secrets that had bound them together in another time. Regulus seemed different, yet somehow the same, carrying the weight of decisions he had made so long ago.

"Why are you here?" he asked after a moment, his tone more curious than accusatory now.

Hermione hesitated. "Just... handling some business at Gringotts."

Regulus's eyes flickered with suspicion for a brief moment but softened again. "You always had a way of showing up where things got complicated."

Hermione couldn't help but chuckle softly at that. "Some things never change, I suppose."

Regulus tilted his head, studying her. "So does my brother's merry band of mischief makers know you're back?"

"They do," Hermione replied, her smile growing.

"Good," Regulus muttered, though there was no malice in his voice. His features relaxed, but there was still a trace of something unsaid lingering between them.

Hermione hesitated before asking, "How are things? With you and Sirius, I mean."

"Amicable," he said, his voice cool but steady. "That's the best I could hope for, I suppose. After everything."

Hermione nodded, understanding the weight of those words. The history between the Black brothers had been turbulent, to say the least, and seeing them manage some form of peace was more than anyone could have expected.

"I'm glad to hear that," she said quietly, a twinge of nostalgia hitting her as she thought of Sirius's unfettered, rebellious nature and Regulus's quiet but deadly determination. The two were so different, yet tied together by the complicated web of family, war, and survival.

Regulus glanced at her, then gave a small nod toward the alley. "I'm actually in business with Severus. Would you like to come take a look?"

Hermione blinked in surprise, but curiosity quickly took over. "Sure," she said, casting a brief glance back toward Gringotts. It could wait.

They made their way down the cobbled street, and as they turned a corner, Hermione saw a modest but well-kept shop nestled between larger storefronts. The sign above the door read The Black Prince Potion Emporium, its lettering elegant and understated.

Regulus paused for a moment, his eyes scanning the shop with a faint trace of pride before he pushed the door open. Inside, the scent of various potions and herbs filled the air, and shelves were lined with neatly arranged vials and ingredients. It was a place of quiet, controlled power, much like its co-owner.

"Hello, Mr Snape," Hermione said, feeling oddly formal, unsure if she should address him by his first name, given the dynamic that had once existed between them in her original timeline. He stood before her now, not as the professor she once knew but as something... different.

Severus's eyebrow arched slightly, and his eyes flickered to the sign above the door before landing back on her with a cutting edge of amusement. "It's Prince now," he corrected, his tone dry. "Can't read the sign?"

Hermione blinked, caught off guard, but then the humour in his words sank in. He must have started using his mother's maiden name after the war to distance himself from his Death Eater past. She laughed—really laughed, despite herself. The cutting dry wit, the razor-sharp tongue—it was all still there, unchanged, and strangely comforting in its familiarity.

Severus raised an eyebrow again at her reaction, clearly not expecting her to find amusement in his remark. His dark eyes shifted to Regulus, as if silently questioning him, before settling back on Hermione.

"My bad," she said, a hint of playfulness in her voice, "it wasn't my intention to insult the Half-Blood Prince."

The reference hung in the air for a moment, and Severus's eyes narrowed slightly, clearly catching the meaning behind her words. That was a moniker he had used in school. His expression didn't change much, but there was the faintest twitch at the corner of his lips.

"So," Severus said, his voice as smooth as ever, though a touch more relaxed. "You seem to know me, but I don't think I've had the pleasure."

Hermione glanced at Regulus, thinking he would share the revelation either way, so there was really no good reason to keep it hidden. "I'm Hermione Granger, though you might remember me by the name of Mina Delacour."

Severus's eyes narrowed as he processed her words, the weight of understanding slowly settling on him. His expression shifted—cold calculation flickering behind his gaze as he pieced together the events of the past. Their conversations in the library, his desperate plea for Lily's life, her mysterious disappearance after Voldemort's fall. And then the realisation that it was her testimony, delivered through Moody, that had kept him from Azkaban, despite the Dark Mark that branded his arm.

The silence in the room grew heavy, charged with unspoken memories and decisions that had altered the course of so many lives. Severus's gaze darted briefly to Regulus, who stood quietly behind Hermione, and then back to her.

"I see," he finally said, his voice low and measured. "So, it was you all along."

Hermione nodded, her gaze steady, though she could feel the tension in the air. "Yes. It was me. And I meant what I said back then—about the choices you made. I know you're not the same person you were when you took the Mark. You made your decision to protect her, to fight from within. And that's why you're free today."

Severus's lips thinned, but there was no hostility in his expression—only resignation, perhaps a trace of grudging gratitude. "Moody. That old madman. I suppose he had to get the truth from somewhere." His voice was flat, though there was a bitter edge to it.

Hermione hesitated before responding. "You deserved a second chance, Severus. Just like Regulus did." She glanced back at Regulus, who had been quietly observing the exchange, his expression unreadable. "You both risked everything, even when the odds were against you. It wasn't easy, but it was right."

Severus sneered slightly, his lips curling in that familiar, sardonic way. "Some good did it do me," he muttered bitterly. "Potter still got the girl."

Hermione sighed, her patience wearing thin. "Really, Severus? After all this time?"

His dark eyes flashed briefly, and without a word, he lifted his wand, conjuring his Patronus. A luminous doe materialised in front of them, graceful and serene. "Always," he said softly, the weight of the word heavy with decades of unrequited love and silent devotion.

Hermione felt a pang of sympathy for him but knew better than to dwell on it. "Well, be glad it wasn't Dumbledore you had to go to," she said, a trace of humour slipping into her voice. "You'd have been beholden to him for decades, teaching at Hogwarts as a Potions Professor."

Severus raised an eyebrow, lowering his wand as the doe dissipated into nothingness. "I'm not sure who to pity more in that scenario. Myself or the dunderheads I would have had to teach."

Hermione laughed, despite herself. "Definitely the kids, Severus. No one deserves to be bullied like that. I would think you are in a position to understand better than most."

Severus's lips twitched, though whether it was a smile or a grimace, Hermione couldn't tell. "Oh, I understand it all too well," he said darkly, his voice dripping with the weight of old wounds. There was a bitterness to his words, a reminder of the scars he carried from his own past. Hermione softened slightly, her smile fading into something sadder, knowing all too well the history that shaped him. She didn't press further, though—there was no use in reopening old wounds.

With a sigh, she shifted the conversation. "Anyway, I'd appreciate it if you kept this information to yourself. Mina Delacour being back, that is." She glanced between Severus and Regulus, her tone more serious now. "Normally I'd insist upon a secrecy vow, but I hope the debt you both owe me would ensure your silence." Her voice held a lightness, but there was an unspoken weight behind her words.

Severus's gaze flicked to her, a sharpness in his eyes as he responded. "Don't be a sentimental nincompoop and ask for the secrecy vow, you foolish girl." His words were cutting, but there was something more in his tone—a rare, almost imperceptible glimmer of concern. "Trust is a luxury you can't afford," he added, though the edge in his voice softened ever so slightly.

Hermione looked at him, studying his face for a moment. The man who once buried his emotions behind a wall of sarcasm and bitterness still lingered, but she could sense that over the years, Severus had learned a hard, reluctant kind of respect—for her, for what she had done. She smiled gently, appreciating the rare glimpse of vulnerability in his otherwise hardened demeanour.

"Noted," she said, her voice quiet but firm. "But I still trust you both. Even if that makes me a fool."

Regulus, who had remained silent for most of the exchange, finally spoke. "We owe you more than silence, Hermione. You saved us. It's not something we take lightly."

Severus inclined his head, his expression unreadable. "As much as I detest admitting it," he began, his tone slightly begrudging, "Regulus is right. You have my word—no one will hear about this from me."

"Same here," Regulus added.

Hermione nodded, relieved, though there was a heaviness in her heart. The road ahead was uncertain, but at least in that moment, she knew she could rely on them. "Thank you," she said softly, and for a brief second, the weight of their shared pasts seemed to hang in the air like a fragile thread.

Severus, ever the one to break tension with biting wit, crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "Now, did you actually want to buy something, or are you just here to catch up with old Death Eaters?" His voice was as sharp as ever, though there was a faint glint of amusement in his dark eyes.

Hermione chuckled, shaking her head. "Just catching up today, it seems. Though if you have something for a residual cold..." she trailed off, recalling her recent bout of illness courtesy of Teddy. "I could use something stronger than Pepper-Up."

Severus smirked, turning on his heel toward a shelf of neatly labelled vials. "Ah, slaying dark lords, but still dealing with the common ailments of mere mortals, I see," he muttered, selecting a bottle with practised ease. "Try this. Stronger than Pepper-Up, but it won't have you spewing steam for hours." He handed her the vial, his fingers brushing hers briefly as she took it. "On the house."

"Thank you, Severus," Hermione said, her gratitude genuine.

"Prince," he corrected automatically, drawing the hard line that they were not friends, though his tone was lighter this time, less abrasive.

"Right. Prince," she replied, rolling her eyes. "Well, I'll leave you to your potions. It was... interesting seeing you both."

"Indeed," Severus replied, already retreating behind the counter, while Regulus gave her a small nod of farewell. As Hermione turned to leave the shop, the weight of the encounter sat with her. Old enemies turned allies, now caught in the strange web of their shared history.

As she stepped back onto the bustling streets of Diagon Alley, the bottle of potion clutched in her hand, she felt a little more prepared for whatever would come next.

Stepping into Gringotts, Hermione approached the counter, her mind already focused on the task at hand. She inquired about opening a vault, expecting a routine process. However, after the wand identification, the goblin behind the counter merely quirked an eyebrow and immediately summoned Griphook. A faint sense of unease settled over her as she watched the exchange. This didn't seem coincidental.

Griphook arrived swiftly, saying nothing as he motioned for her to follow him to a private room. The air in the chamber felt tense, almost anticipatory. As soon as the door clicked shut behind them, Griphook turned to her, his sharp eyes gleaming with something unreadable.

"Welcome back, Miss Delacour," he said, his tone matter-of-fact.

Hermione blinked, taken aback. Her mind raced as she tried to process his words. "You knew all this time?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. How long had the goblins known? Why hadn't they ever said anything to the Hermione Granger of this timeline? A part of her was grateful they hadn't—it would have terrified the poor girl.

"That Hermione Granger was Mina Delacour? Yes," Griphook replied smoothly. "You can't exactly walk into Gringotts without us knowing who you are. But we also knew that, well… you weren't quite Mina Delacour yet."

Hermione frowned, her thoughts spinning. Of course, the goblins would know—they always did. They were meticulous with records, impossible to fool. "I'm guessing I don't actually need to open a new vault then?" she asked, her mind beginning to catch up with the situation.

Griphook gave a thin, approving smile. "Correct. We can easily adjust our internal records to reflect the name change."

"Splendid," Hermione replied, feeling a strange sense of relief that something in this world still functioned with the same cold efficiency.

"Would you like to make any adjustments to your accounts?" Griphook asked, already prepared to make whatever changes she needed.

Hermione paused, thinking about Remus's insistence that he didn't need any money from her, that he was already set for life. But then her thoughts drifted to Teddy. Remus hadn't mentioned setting anything aside for him, and she wasn't about to let that slip through the cracks. "Yes," she said finally. "Please divert the monthly stipends into another trust fund for Edward Remus Lupin, to be released to him upon his majority."

She smiled to herself, knowing Remus would protest when he found out, but this would ensure Teddy's future. That'll teach him for denying me the chance to take care of them, she thought with satisfaction.

"But keep the funds for the provision for the Wolfsbane Potion in place," she added, making sure to preserve the arrangement she had set up years ago. Remus might have had a steady salary now, but Wolfsbane was still expensive.

"Very well," Griphook said, his quill already scratching across parchment. "Would you like to review your investment portfolio?"

"Sure," Hermione agreed, though she was fairly certain everything was in order. "Though I'm confident it's been well managed."

Griphook gave another thin smile. "Oh yes, Gringotts has enjoyed your tips on investment avenues regarding Muggle corporations quite a bit. Your portfolio has performed admirably."

Hermione chuckled softly. "I'm glad to hear it. Let's just make sure it's still working well for me."

As Griphook presented the various investments, Hermione felt a quiet satisfaction settle over her. She was still in control of something, still capable of ensuring the future of those she cared about. Even if she herself felt like a hot mess, not quite sure of the way forward yet.