A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! This has not been beta read — through no fault of the dear lanamarymack — I was just very very late at finishing this chapter. I am still not 100 percent caught up over the holidays. You can find me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter sixty-three and be on the lookout for chapter sixty-four soon! We are down to the home stretch!

Some time in the future, Hermione would have to ask what confluence of concessions and promises had to be made to get Harry and Ron into Grimmauld Place for a discussion, but she was certain that Dumbledore was completely in the dark about it.

After a brief correspondence with Luna, Hermione had gotten her message to Harry and Ron that she was not dead, that they needed to speak, and it needed to be sooner than later. Knowing what a hothead Harry could be, she was almost certain that he would have put his foot down and insisted that he be able to meet with her.

But now, to have her two friends standing in the library of Grimmauld Place, flanked by a concerned looking Remus and an awed looking Arthur, was a dream that she could hardly believe had come true. She was joined by Sirius, Regulus and Orion, each of them standing behind her as a means of protection, despite her insistence that she wouldn't need it, not with her old friends.

Once they had stepped through the fireplace, Hermione could not contain herself from launching across the room and wrapping them tightly into one-armed hugs.

"Harry! Ron!" she cheered, feeling tears spring into her eyes. "Oh, you have no idea how much I've missed you." She was so choked up that she could barely get her words out.

Harry returned her hug just as fiercely, but she felt Ron put his hands at her waist, pushing her back so that he could get a look at her face. Ron looked curious, but distrustful. "Hermione? Is that really you?" he asked, turning his head to the side so that he could get a good look at her.

"Ron, be reasonable," Harry chided. "It's obviously Hermione, she just..."

"Looks different," Ron finished the sentence, looking at her.

Hermione grimaced, remembering that they were no longer the same age. "I have an explanation for that," she said, before describing the fact that she had been sent to the past and lived there for nearly two years. "Sirius got me back to our proper time, but nothing could be done about the aging, I suppose."

Harry gave a tentative glance to Remus, who was staring at her contemplatively. "It's true," he said after a beat of silence. "I remember her from my time at Hogwarts. But then... her and Sirius did not get along."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Harry questioned, annoyed. "You knew Hermione in third year. You could have prevented her from having to go back in the first place."

Remus's gaze darted between her and Sirius again and again. "I—I suppose that I thought by keeping her from the Black family, I was keeping her safe," he explained, his eyebrows furrowed. He looked so much older than Hermione remembered him.

Sirius crossed his arms over his broad chest and huffed. "Wanted to keep her away from me I suppose, since you decided that I was untrustworthy," he accused.

"Not just you!" Remus answered. "But yes, once you returned to your family — what was I supposed to think, Sirius? You were suddenly so paranoid. Making demands of James and making outlandish claims about Peter! We were at war and —"

"But, I was right about Peter," Sirius insisted. "Hermione told me and I was just trying to help give Harry the life that he deserved. Give James the life that he deserved. And instead..."

Harry frowned. "What are you... what are you even on about?" he stammered, unsure of what it was that he was actually asking.

Hermione felt her breath leave her, coming face to face with how badly she'd failed Harry again. "I — since I knew what happened to your parents, to you, I had hoped that I could change things with my knowledge of the future," she said. "I hoped that I could save them by telling Sirius that it was Pettigrew who betrayed them, but... it seems like there are some events that can't be altered."

She swallowed, feeling her blood rushing through her ears. She already felt badly that she hadn't been able to change Harry's fate, but being face to face with him and telling her how horrible she'd failed only made her feel worse.

"I — thank you for trying," Harry said after a beat. He looked around the room, at all the unusual wizards in the room. "Can we speak... privately? You can see it's still our Hermione. And I need to speak with her alone."

It was as if no one breathed for a moment, but finally, her father gave her a little nod. "I suppose that will be alright," he agreed. "Weasley — I suppose I could show you where your mother is on the family tapestry, though, fair warning, she was blasted off of it."

Sirius and Remus had unfinished business between the two of them, but they looked as though they would rather do anything but speak to one another. Regulus, seeing the tension between the former friends, shook his head. "We have firewhiskey in the parlor," he said, nodding his head towards the door. "Hermione, we'll be just down the hall."

Hermione was pleased to be able to speak with the boys without her family hovering around them. And, as much as she missed Mister Weasley and Remus, they weren't the same Mister Weasley and Remus that she remembered. "I'm so happy you are here," she said, giving them a smile and beckoning them towards the settee. Once they were sitting around the table, she called for Kreacher to bring them tea. She poured them each a cup just how they liked it and handed them out.

Ron snorted when she gave him his. "Well, you are just at home here, aren't you," he said with a sneer.

"What?" Hermione asked, surprised at the accusatory tone. "I... I suppose this has become my home over the last few years. Did you not want me to adjust?"

"I'd say you've done more than adjust," Ron accused.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded, her ire growing.

"It just seems like you're happy to be slotted in here," he said, arching an eyebrow — daring her to deny it.

But, Hermione wouldn't deny it. "I don't know what you want me to say," she argued. "The Ministry told my parents that I died and then obliviated them, Dumbledore was absolutely no help at all. The Blacks took me in when they didn't have to."

"Why did they take you in, anyways?" Harry asked, looking at her suspiciously. "They aren't exactly known for being friendly to muggleborns."

Hermione could feel her cheeks redden. "Well, I suppose there is no easy way to say this, but... all four of my grandparents were actually squibs. My mother's father was a Black who was disowned and left to live in the muggle world," she explained, knowing what they would think of all the sordid details. "So, they sort of... insist that I am technically a pureblood, even if I don't see it that way."

Ron couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes. "You say that, but here you are, wearing robes and serving tea like a good little pureblood girl," he said. "You enjoy looking the part, I suppose."

This was not going at all the way that she thought it was going. Deciding to lay all her cards on the table, she set her jaw. "You are just going to have to accept this. I am still your friend Hermione, but the Blacks have adopted me at this point. They are my family," she insisted. "And, you do things for your family." She began to twist the beautiful engagement ring Rabastan had given her on her finger. "I am to be married."

"What? When?" Ron exploded, most upset to hear that.

"Well, certainly not until Voldemort has been dealt with," Hermione insisted. "Rabastan and I are quite eager to get married though. It's been a long time coming."

"Rabastan? As in Lestrange?" Ron questioned, sitting on the edge of his seat. "Godric, Hermione, they really have ruined you haven't they?"

"I'm not ruined!" Hermione insisted, feeling tears prick at the back of her eyes. "Was this how I envisioned my life going? No, but Rabastan and I do love each other."

"Harry, maybe Dumbledore was right to keep her away from us," Ron said, completely ignoring her. "The Lestranges are a dark family, same as the Blacks. How do you know we can really trust her, hm?"

"You can trust me because I already know about the horcruxes!" she said, needing them to understand.

Harry immediately stilled, not able to hide his reaction to that word. "Who told you about that?" he asked, his head tilted to one side.

"Father — Orion was the one who put it together," Hermione explained. "I had told them everything I knew about the future and — and he'd managed to figure out what was bringing Voldemort back. Now, listen, I tried to warn Dumbledore about it, but he wouldn't listen. Voldemort is all but invincible if we don't destroy them first."

"It might just be a trick, Harry," Ron cautioned. "She's just telling you what you want to hear."

"Why would I do that?" Hermione asked, getting really frustrated with her friend. "None of my family wears the Dark Mark, and the part of the family that does has been disowned, the whole branch, because Orion wouldn't support Voldemort."

Harry looked between the two of his friends, looking exceptionally tired. His shoulders sagged. "Ron, I've known Hermione my whole life, and she's saved my butt more times than I can count," he said. "She already knows about the horcruxes and quite frankly, I need the help."

Hermione let out a sigh of relief, glad to know that he was going to listen to her. "I think we can get more done if we work together," she said, glad that they were still working on the same team. "We figured he'd made more than one, but we haven't been able to glean much more than that."

"Dumbledore has asked me to work our new Potions Professor for details. Apparently Voldemort was a favorite of his when he was a student," Harry said, running a hand across his face. "He finally just admitted that Voldemort asked about horcruxes when he was a student. Dumbledore seemed shocked."

She huffed hearing that. "All these months wasted! If he'd just listened to us, then we could have already found some," she practically growled, wondering why Dumbledore was so adamant about not listening to her family.

"Well, we've already destroyed two of them," Ron insisted, sounding surly. "The Diary that possessed Ginny was one."

"Yes, we figured that," Hermione said, pursing her lips. "And the other?"

"Dumbledore found a ring. Apparently it was Voldemort's — it belonged to his wizard family, the Gaunts. Some kind of heirloom," Harry provided. "He thinks he has a lead on another one of them, too."

"Another one of them?" she asked, eyes wide. "Just how many of those things did he make?"

Harry looked extremely grim. "Seven of them," he revealed.

"Seven?!" she repeated.

"It was a number he specifically asked Slughorn about making seven," Harry said.

"Who would want to split their soul seven bloody times?" Hermione demanded. It was no wonder that Voldemort was so mad. "Well, we will help you find and destroy them. Rabastan and I have been researching methods to get rid of them. And my father has been researching if there are any methods to locate them."

"Great," Ron said, his face having gone a rather odd shade of red upon her mentioning Rabastan a second time.

But Harry gave her a bright smile. "You have no idea what a relief it is to hear that you will help," he said, reaching across the settee to give her arm a squeeze. "It's been feeling a bit hopeless without you."

Hermione immediately softened. "I am so glad to see you again," she answered. "I've been feeling so out of sorts, like I just couldn't find my footing. But I am glad I still have my friends." She looked at Ron hopefully.

Harry knocked his shoulder against Ron's. "Ron is happy to see you, too. Right, mate?" he said, on behalf of the red head. "He just needs a little time to adjust. You do seem so much older now."

"I am nineteen now. I've already sat my NEWTs!" she revealed brightly. "Father has found me a Charms Master to study under so that I can get a Mastery of my own."

Before they could talk much more, there was a tentative knock on the door. The rest of the wizards spilled back into the room, their tolerance for one another at its limits. Remus and Arthur collected the boys to take them back to the Burrow for the rest of the Christmas holiday, but not before Hermione hugged them tightly, even Ron.

And, she extracted a promise to speak to one another again soon.