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Part 1 of The Pureblood Regime
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2021-03-14
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2021-06-15
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The Pureblood Regime

Summary:

During the Battle of the Astronomy Power, Severus Snape broke free from his bond from Voldemort, and joined the Order of the Phoenix to help Harry Potter defeat the Dark Lord once and for all. Hermione and Ron came together in the tragedy, but could never make their relationship work.

Seventh-year. Hermione is in love with a dead man. Ron is focused on Quidditch and joining the Auror Department after graduation. Harry is sneaking around with Severus. Dumbledore agrees with newly-elected Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, that the Death Eaters still on the loose must be dealt with but, in the meantime, the Golden Trio must be kept safe. Which is why the Pureblood Regime must be reenacted, to ensure the protection of Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger.

Notes:

Chapter 1: Interfering Old Wizards

Chapter Text

Hermione set aside her charms homework and sighed; Professor Flitwick had asked them to write about their Patronus animals, if they were able to produce one in Corporal form, and why they thought they got the ones they did. Her otter had changed to that of a dog, and Hermione wouldn’t allow herself to fully comprehend the reasons why that was. Swallowing, she picked up her quill again, writing another sentence for her conclusion, looking up as the portrait hole opened, and Harry and Ron stepped inside, filthy from Quidditch practice.

She didn’t really have to study in there, but she knew that Harry and Ron had experienced so much upheaval of late, as had they all, so it was better for her to do her revisions there. She affixed a smile onto her lips as the pair approached. The haunted look in the green and blue eyes stared back at her, one that they couldn’t shake at all, no matter how much fun they’d attempted to engage in.

“Does Hufflepuff stand a chance at all, then?” Hermione asked, mentioning the final game of term, which was due to take place in one-weeks’ time.

“None,” Harry confirmed, hovering above the couch. “Do Ron and I have time to shower and change before dinner?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Please. You both are seventeen now. Surely you know how long it takes for you to shower.”

“Now, that’s not fair, ‘Mione, and you know it,” Ron whined, causing Hermione to purse her lips; she had little to no patience for Ron’s antics nowadays. “Water-fights are required—”

“If you’re going to launch into yet another needless lecture about how water-fights are a required right of passage, you needn’t bother,” she huffed, pulling her potions homework towards her, and caught Harry’s flush at her grip upon Advanced Potion Making. “Yes. The pair of you have plenty of time to shower, but best get a move on.”

Ron grinned. “You’re the best, ‘Mione!” he crowed, dashing past them both and running up the staircase to the seventh-year boys’ dorm.

Harry turned back to Hermione and sighed. “‘Mione?”

She looked up from her work. “Yes?”

“I’m not wrong, am I?” he asked.

Hermione swallowed. “About what?”

“Something’s going on,” he said softly. “I’m not wrong about thinking that, am I?”

Hermione sighed. “I don’t think you’re wrong,” she whispered. “Headmaster Dumbledore hasn’t been this distant towards you since fifth-year.” She shook her head. “Don’t think too much on it, Harry, please. It’s only been six months since the attempt on his life, and everything else that happened,” she said.

Harry nodded. “I know. I...I’m afraid...”

“Don’t let it show,” Hermione told him. “Just because one duty is done, doesn’t mean you won’t be signed up for another.”

Harry sighed. “That’s what I’m so afraid of,” he muttered, before turning on his heel and making his way up to the dorm himself.

Hermione concentrated as much as she could upon her homework, managing to finish the remainder of her potions essay assignment before Harry and Ron returned to the common room from their shower, and was scanning her Arithmancy text for any new ideas. They made their way to the Great Hall immediately, Hermione retaining her hold upon her Arithmancy book, with several other students of all houses grouping around them as they went. Once down the stairs and inside the hall, they took their customary places at the Gryffindor House table, waving at Neville just beside them, Ginny next to Hermione, Luna at the Ravenclaw table, and Draco at the Slytherin one. It was not lost on Hermione that Neville was making eyes at Luna, nor that Draco was giving the same expression to Ginny, and she smiled to herself, hoping that everything would work out between the would-be couples.

“How is Draco?” Hermione asked casually, serving herself some roast chicken.

Ginny flushed becomingly at that as she picked at her salad. “Very well. Mum and Dad have already invited him to the Burrow for Christmas.”

“Things are becoming serious, then?”

Ginny smiled, catching at an olive and a lettuce leaf. “Yes, I think so,” she said, looking around, before she said, “He’s a really brilliant snogger—”

Ron choked from across the table. “Bloody hell, Ginny!” he squawked. “You’ve nearly put me off my dinner!” he moaned, pushing his mashed potatoes and peas around his plate.

“What did you ever see in him?” Ginny asked, amused.

Hermione clicked her tongue, pouring some gravy onto her chicken, before helping herself to some boiled potatoes. “No idea,” she responded.

Ginny patted her arm. “Nothing is for certain, not anymore,” she said, her eyes sweeping upwards towards the head table, and her eyebrows came together at that. “Merlin, I wonder what is transpiring now...”

“What do you mean, Ginny?” Harry asked, catching onto their conversation and following her gaze, where they could plainly see Headmaster Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Snape in deep conversation. “Perhaps the governors are at it again, or Kingsley sent an owl before dinner...”

“Looks a bit more complicated than that,” Hermione said softly. “The headmaster looks pleased as punch, whereas Professor McGonagall looks worried, and Professor Snape looks...”

“He’s scared,” Harry said softly, and neither Hermione or Ginny made any move to disagree with him there. “I’ve studied his face often enough to know his emotions.”

“Sure, Harry,” Ginny said with a nod. “We believe you.” She gave a small smile then, turning and looking down the long table, where Dean and Seamus were cuddling. “Just like the look on Dean’s face before he told me that he thought we’d be better off as friends. The poor thing actually thought I’d be angry with him!”

“He still broke your heart!” Ron thundered heatedly.

Ginny sighed. “Yes, well...”

“And Malfoy was there, quick to pick up the pieces,” he growled.

Ginny slammed her palm onto the table. “When are you going to get it through your thick head, Ron? I am crazy about Draco, as he is about me! Nothing is going to change that!” she cried out, her voice breaking at the end, before her fork clattered down onto her plate and she got to her feet, dashing out of there with a sob, Draco immediately following in her wake.

Hermione sighed. “And you wondered why things didn’t last?” she asked.

Ron turned red to his ears. “That was because...”

“I know why it didn’t, Ron,” Hermione said, stabbing at her chicken in her frustration, and doing her best to eat the rest of her dinner quickly. Once she had done, she barely touched one of the puddings on offer that night, despite it being her favorite, Arctic Roll. Pushing her plate away from her after barely eating a quarter of it, she picked up her massive tome again, reading about the theory behind Arithmancy, in the hopes of calming herself down.

Dinner was slowly but surely winding down, and Hermione was beginning to feel the affects of the day. Even though NEWTs were months away, she was constantly keeping odd hours in order to revise for them. Their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was a joke, although not nearly as bad as Lockhart, and she wished that Harry could simply take over the class. She knew quite well that he wanted the position after graduation, in order to be closer to a certain potions professor. As for Ron, he wanted to be an Auror, and was hoping that he passed his NEWTs in order to receive a coveted spot in Auror training. As for Hermione, she was plenty confused about what it was she wanted. She had been sheltered so long—first by her mother and father, and then by the protective walls of Hogwarts—that, even though she spent plenty of time reading about the world she was now a part of, she felt woefully unprepared when it came to a final decision, a decision that would affect the rest of her life. Her one desire, a desire that she had kept a great secret from both Harry and Ron, could potentially ruin everything. And besides, it wasn’t as if it could ever come to pass, now that the one thing, the one person, she truly wanted was completely out of her reach...

Hermione didn’t think anything of it when Professor McGonagall stopped them in the corridor just outside the Great Hall, telling them that Headmaster Dumbledore needed to see the three of them right away. Ron shrugged, while Harry informed their Head of House that they would, of course, accompany her to the headmaster’s office. Off they went, with both boys relieved that they had eaten their dinner already; Hermione merely rolled her eyes, her attention gravitating towards the heavy tome beneath her arm, Numerology and Grammatica, which Harry had purchased for her the Christmas before, after misplacing her copy during the Triwizard Tournament their fourth-year, and having to rely on the library’s copy.

Things had changed drastically since the trio had begun their seventh-year at Hogwarts; for one thing, Severus Snape had been hailed a hero, after thwarting the Death Eaters last June, fighting them off with the members of the Order of the Phoenix, with Harry delivering the fatal Killing Curse upon Voldemort, banishing him from their world forever. Minister Fudge had been ousted, and Rufus Scrimgeour, who would have normally taken up the title of Minister of Magic, as he was the current Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, had stepped aside for Kingsley Shacklebolt. Kingsley had proved to be a capable minister, reversing the stigmas connected to werewolves, vampires, and the like, with landslide votes within the Wizengamot, although the pair were saddened that Remus Lupin wouldn’t see it, as he had been one of the casualties at the Battle of the Astronomy Tower.

Upon arrival at the gargoyle, Professor McGonagall straightened up and said, almost in a breathless tone, “Cauldron Cakes,” and the stone being promptly jumped aside. “The headmaster is awaiting you three upstairs,” she said gently, although Hermione could detect a sadness in her eyes. “Good luck.”

Hermione followed the boys, both seventeen, and sighed to herself; at eighteen, she was the oldest of the bunch, while Ron was the tallest and strongest, and Harry the best at Defense Against the Dark Arts and Quidditch. Pursing her lips, her mouth promptly fell open as the door opened automatically for them, and three people stood around the room, who were all speaking in hurried tones to the headmaster.

“Sirius?!” Harry yelled out, stumbling over the threshold, tears falling down his face as he rushed forward, ignoring Severus Snape and Tonks, who immediately moved out of the way. He was grabbed up by the man and clutched in a massive bear hug, and Harry yanked himself back, staring up at the man. “But...how? Why? You went through the veil fifth-year, and I thought that you were...”

Hermione then felt as if her entire world had fallen apart all over again. She felt cold all over, and she trembled at the sight of Sirius Black embracing her best friend. Her knees knocked together as she shook, and she mentally cursed herself to pull herself together...

“Your godfather was kept in stasis behind the veil, Potter, until the magical world could assist in bringing him out,” Severus Snape told him, his voice not nearly as hard, now that he didn’t have dual roles to play, which ultimately brought Hermione back to earth as she saw the softness within his eyes as he addressed her best friend.

“Snape is correct,” Sirius said softly, and Hermione was amazed to hear no animosity from either wizard. “The Department of Unspeakables managed to drag me out a week previous, and I’ve been in St. Mungo’s recovering,” he went on.

“We didn’t want to rush in and tell you right away,” Tonks put in gently. “The department had no idea if Sirius was brain damaged. The mediwizards and witches, plus the healers, worked on him as much as they could.”

“I remember falling into the veil, and, the next thing I knew, I was waking up in a bed at St. Mungo’s, asking if you were all right,” Sirius went on. “Mad-Eye was there to explain everything to me, of course. As Deputy Minister, I was more than pleased that he was able to make such a call to me, an invalid, in a hospital bed...”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Severus told him with a genial smirk. “Invalids drool. You only do so while puttering around as Padfoot.”

“Now, now, boys,” the headmaster said before a row could break out, and shook his head at the pair of them, before turning to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. “I’ll bet the three of you are speculating as to why you’ve been brought here.”

“It wasn’t to reunite with Sirius?” Harry asked, still standing close to his godfather.

“No, Harry,” said Dumbledore gently, “although I’m quite sure you’ll get to see more of him, now that the Christmas holidays are approaching.”

“I’ll live with him?” Harry asked, and Hermione could see how excited her best friend was, and smiled over at him.

“No, Harry,” the headmaster said, “although, now that Riddle is gone, and you’ve reached your majority, you need not return to Privet Drive.”

“Then, what’s going on here?” Ron demanded, crossing his arms.

“Ronald!” Hermione hissed, shaking her head at him; after his fiasco with Lavender, she and Ron had attempted being a couple after the incident last June, but soon found that they were better off as friends. “Please. Don’t be rude.”

“Thank you, Miss Granger,” the headmaster said, his eyes twinkling, in a way they’d not done since she and a reformed Draco Malfoy had been announced as that years’ Head Boy and Head Girl respectively. “Anyhow, my reasoning for calling you all here was to inform you that you need a different form of protection.”

“What kind of protection, headmaster?” Harry asked.

The elderly man sighed. “No doubt you’ve seen the issues of The Prophet and The Quibbler over the summer, as well as since the start-of-term...”

Ron’s eyes darkened. “We’ve seen them.”

“We have,” Hermione responded softly. “How Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange, and the rest of the surviving Death Eaters escaped Azkaban again, and are now on the run...”

“But what does that have to do with us?” Harry asked. “Surely the Hit Wizards and the Aurors are close to finding them...”

“I’m afraid they’ve remained elusive,” Tonks said softly; she was in training to take over as Head of the Auror Department, but felt that she was lacking in some way, considering that they’d always seemed to be one step behind the evasive Death Eaters, which Hermione didn’t blame her for, due to their abundance of safe houses.

“Because of this,” Dumbledore continued, “the three of you will be at the top of the list for the Death Eaters hoped-for eradication process. As such, Kingsley has reenacted an old law, wherein younger wizards and witches will seek protection from those meeting in power to them, or of a higher Blood Status, to ensure protection...”

“The Pureblood Regime,” Hermione whispered, shuddering, having read many texts pertaining to History of Magic about it, about how young virgins were sent off to wealthy families, raped, and then left to die as their magic was siphoned off... “Why would the minister agree to such a thing?!” she demanded. “It’s archaic, and it’s just...wrong!”

“I knew she wouldn’t take it well,” Severus uttered softly.

“Now, now, Severus, none of that,” Dumbledore said, holding up his hand to his potions master, before turning back to Hermione with a serious expression. “It is true, Miss Granger, that there weren’t protections in place to ensure the safety of the younger of the bonded pair in the past. However, Kingsley has amended the law to ensure maximum safety for all involved. No magic will be stolen; rather, it will be combined to ensure safety for both the bonded pair, and any heirs that are brought forth from the union,” he said gently. “Do not despair. As it happens, I have documents from all your families, which were drawn up years ago, selecting someone for you to bond...”

“What?!” Ron sputtered. “Bond? But we’re still in school...”

“All of you will take the Christmas holidays to become bonded and properly acquainted with one another, while the Easter holidays will act as a short honeymoon for the bonded pairs. You will graduate two months after that, and will have plenty of time to settle into bonded life.”

Hermione gripped at her tome so tightly that her knuckles were becoming white. “And... And who have our parents chosen for us?” she whispered.

Dumbledore smiled, clearly pleased that she was beginning to come around to the idea, and summoned three inked parchments towards him. “From Lily and James Potter, to be presented to their son, Harry, when he has reached his majority,” he said, reading from the first. “Harry, your betrothed is to be Severus Snape.”

Harry flushed and smiled at the man, while Severus ruefully returned the smile; only Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and the headmaster had known that Harry and the potions professor had harbored feelings for one another since their Occlumency lessons, but had not acted on them completely until after the events of the astronomy tower. “I accept,” Harry said, and Sirius sighed, obviously looking annoyed, but nevertheless pushed Harry towards Severus, who pulled him close, and kissed his forehead.

Dumbledore smiled rather indulgently at the exchange and pulled the second piece of parchment towards him with a nod as he read its contents. “From Arthur and Molly Weasley, to be presented to their son, Ronald, when he has reached his majority,” he said, before looking up at Ron. “Ron, your betrothed is to be Nymphadora Tonks.”

“Don’t call me Nymphadora,” Tonks growled, her hair, and her face, turning red, before she peeked over at Ron. “I’m sorry if this isn’t...”

Ron promptly stepped forward, taking her hand and kissing it. “I’ve always admired you, Tonks,” he told her, smiling. “And, since I want to become an Auror, and we both hated Riddle, we have more than enough in common. I think it’ll be a successful match.”

Tonks’s cheeks turned a flattering pink. “Thank you, Ron,” she replied.

Dumbledore pulled up the final parchment, and Hermione’s heart entered her throat as he read the scrawl upon it. “From Colin and Demeter Granger, to be presented to their daughter, Hermione, when she has reached her majority—in the Muggle world, that age is eighteen,” the headmaster informed the group. “Hermione, your betrothed is to be Sirius Black.”

Hermione’s knees buckled, her joints quivering at the prospect. “But... But, I am a Muggleborn, and Sirius is a Pureblood,” she whispered. “Surely there’s some mistake...”

“Since you are a Savior of the Wizarding World,” Dumbledore said, as Sirius slowly came to stand beside Hermione, “Kingsley believed that an exception should be made.” The man peered at Hermione from his half-moon spectacles. “Do you hold disapproval towards your parents’ choice of husband for you, Miss Granger?” he asked.

Hermione bit her tongue, knowing that, if she wanted to appeal to the Wizengamot, Kingsley was more than likely to at least hear her out. However, as much as she hated to admit it, she had found Sirius attractive from her third-year, and had been devastated when he had fallen through the veil, never allowing her to reveal her feelings. As she ran her fingertips along the spine of her tome, she whispered, “No. None whatsoever, headmaster.”

“Excellent!” Dumbledore said, clasping his hands together. “Well, as it is a Friday night, perhaps Harry and Severus could speak at length in the dungeons. Mr. Weasley, you have permission to Floo to Tonks’s flat until curfew. And as for you, Miss Granger,” he continued, “perhaps you may show Sirius your own quarters.”

“Certainly, headmaster,” Hermione said softly, watching as Tonks and Ron chattered as they walked towards the Floo, and Severus promptly ushered a flushing Harry out of the headmaster’s office. She turned to Sirius, raising her eyebrows when he offered her his hand, and accepted the gesture. “My rooms are a bit away,” she said, and guided him out of the office. Once they were down the stairs in the deserted corridor, Hermione kept her mouth shut all the way to the portrait of Athena, Goddess of Wisdom, Weaving, and War Strategy, who guarded her rooms. “Good evening, Athena,” she said, smiling up at the maiden with long red hair and blue eyes, who kept an owl upon her shoulder in the warm woods she was painted in.

“Good evening, Hermione,” Athena said with a smile, and turned towards Sirius. “Well, hello there,” she said, grinning down at him. “And who might you be?”

“Sirius Black,” Sirius told her, “Hermione’s fiancé.”

“Oh, how lovely!” Athena said, clapping her hands, before she turned to Hermione. “Were you wanting to go in, then, dear?”

“Manteia,” Hermione said softly.

Athena smiled, spreading her hands as the portrait popped open, thus permitting the couple to step inside the room.

As soon as the portrait closed behind them, Hermione dropped Sirius’s hand and crossed the sitting room, arriving in the small kitchenette attached to it. “Something to drink?” she asked, as she set her tome down upon the counter, not looking at Sirius.

“Gillywater, please, but only if you’ve got it,” Sirius said, and Hermione summoned the bottle from the cooling cabinet, plus a pair of glasses. Once filled, she banished one towards the man, and leaned up against the wall, staring into the clear liquid. “I didn’t know, you know...”

Hermione peeked up at the man, not wholly trusting her words, but also knowing that they had to communicate sooner or later. “Didn’t know what?”

“I didn’t know that Tonks and I would be getting paired up tonight as well,” Sirius said softly, as he sipped his drink. “I mean, I knew that Harry was betrothed to Severus, and suspected that Albus would inform them of the betrothal tonight...”

Hermione swirled the Gillywater in her glass. “And the rest of us?”

“I thought he brought me in so that I could stand as Harry’s family, as well as reunite with my godson,” Sirius said softly. “As for Tonks, I thought that Albus would want a representative from the ministry to be there.”

“And what about Ron and me?” she asked softly.

“Perhaps he wanted you there to witness the betrothal of your best friend?” Sirius asked, lowering his glass and spreading his hands.

“Surely you knew about the dangers, what with the Death Eaters on the loose again, and Ron’s and my rather obvious connection to Harry,” Hermione whispered. “I would never regret being Harry’s friend—I consider him a brother, as I do Ron, and I love them both. However, I can’t fathom why you wouldn’t at least think...”

“Mad-Eye informed me of the return of the Pureblood Regime,” Sirius admitted. “However, I believed you would be paired up with someone...younger...”

Hermione’s brows pulled together at that. “You are the same age as Professor Snape, and Harry is nearly a year younger than I am...”

“Don’t remind me,” Sirius said softly. “I am over two months older than Severus, which puts me at nearly twenty years older than you...”

“Wizards age differently,” Hermione said.

Sirius scoffed. “That is true. However, I know that you cannot possibly be happy with the match presented to you...”

Hermione rolled her eyes as she sipped her Gillywater. “Please,” she said. “You heard that Ron and I tried for a relationship?”

Sirius looked uncomfortable. “I did hear something about that, yes...”

“It didn’t work, couldn’t work, because we weren’t right for the other,” Hermione told him. “It was too safe with Ron, too familiar. I need a challenge when it comes to a relationship, Sirius, and you seem pretty complex to me...”

Sirius laughed. “I have been looking for an excuse to keep Kreacher here full-time. I know you wouldn’t like to live somewhere with house-elves.”

Hermione gave him a small smile. “You’d be right.”

“I also know that you loathed Divination your third-year, so much so that you dropped the class, and it’s the only class you ever dropped.”

“How would you...? Harry,” Hermione said, shaking her head.

“Exactly. Which is why I find that you use the word that directly translates to divination for your personal quarters to be utterly fascinating.”

“It is because I don’t enjoy it,” Hermione explained. “People who break into your rooms will usually attribute something you like to be its password. This way, they will have to know me quite well in order to guess at what I despise.”

“I always thought Trelawney was a fraud,” Sirius put in. “Harmless, but a fraud.”

“Precisely,” Hermione said, finding herself grinning at her future husband. “What was your favorite class while you were here?”

“Defense,” Sirius admitted.

Hermione giggled. “Of course. Perhaps we can have a duel sometime.”

“I would like that,” Sirius said with a nod.

Hermione worried her lower lip then. “The headmaster mentioned something about our bond producing heirs...”

Sirius sighed. “In old families, providing an heir and a spare is required. Unfortunately, even though I am Head of the House of Black, I cannot undo the magicks that put the proclamation there. However, blood adoption is quite lucrative, so perhaps...”

“No,” Hermione said quickly. “I mean, yes, we can adopt as well, but I always fancied carrying children,” she said softly. “I know that I’m not much to look at, but you’re...”

Sirius slowly stepped forward then, tucking a stray curl behind Hermione’s ear. “How can you even say something like that, Hermione?” he whispered, shaking his head. “Not only are you the brightest witch of your age, Hermione, but you are also stunningly beautiful.”

Hermione found that she couldn’t call back the small gasp which escaped her throat, and she tilted her head, so that it rested in Sirius’s palm. “Buckbeak looked white when the moonlight hit him,” she whispered.

Sirius smiled. “What?”

Hermione mentally scolded herself, but continued, “In Muggle fairy tales, a damsel in distress is frequently rescued by a knight, who comes in riding a white horse,” she explained. “A horse is an Abraxan without wings, or a unicorn without its—”

Sirius chuckled. “I know what a horse is, Hermione.”

Hermione chided herself. “Right,” she said. “Anyhow, the knight will save the damsel, and they ride away on the horse, to live happily ever after...”

“So, you’re saying, that you believed me to resemble a knight?”

Hermione’s teeth dragged upon her lower lip. “Yes,” she whispered.

“You were attracted to me from the time you were fourteen?”

“Yes,” she whispered again.

“I will admit, I did find you attractive, Hermione, but did not become attracted to you until you were sixteen, when you spent the Christmas holidays at Grimmauld,” he said, and slowly dragged the pad of his thumb along her lip, freeing it from the confines of her teeth. “I thought I’d be damned for it, but now... Now, I see it is not so wrong...”

“If my parents betrothed us, then no, Sirius, it is not wrong. Besides, I’m eighteen. No one can take me away from you, be it Wizarding or Muggle authorities.”

Sirius smiled. “I am pleased about that.”

Hermione lowered her eyes. “Ron wanted...while we were dating but... I couldn’t,” she said softly, melting into Sirius’s embrace. “Even though you weren’t here anymore, I thought it wouldn’t be fair to you...”

Sirius embraced Hermione, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “We shall save our first kiss for our wedding day, Hermione, and, for the rest, for our wedding night...”

“Shall you contact Molly, to take charge of cleaning Grimmauld?”

“No,” Sirius said, pulling back and gazing down at Hermione. “I won’t have my wife walking around a house that is a virtual death trap, with a portrait of my mother, who would scream abuse whenever you take a step. No. No, Albus has given me my fortune back, and I am in the process of selling Grimmauld, and we may find a proper home.”

“Might I go with you to look at the properties?” Hermione asked.

Sirius smiled. “Yes, of course, you may. I have secured meetings at Gringotts, and I am staying in the upstairs lodgings at The Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade. All the properties are wizarding, so we may have a Floo Network... I, of course, will ensure that we have a reliable owl, and you should know that I would never bar you from seeing your family, Harry, Ron, or the other Weasleys...”

“I am also close with Draco now, we all are. As for further friends, I adore Ginny, Ron’s only sister, plus Neville Longbottom, and Luna Lovegood.”

“All exceptional friends,” Sirius said with approval.

Hermione turned then as a small meow distracted her, and she immediately smiled when her beloved Crookshanks sauntered into the room. “Don’t be rude, love,” she said, squeezing Sirius’s hands before letting him go, and crossed the room, scooping up her feline companion, and turning back towards her betrothed. “You remember Crookshanks, don’t you?”

Sirius’s beautiful blue eyes immediately lit up as he stepped closer, and Hermione was shocked when Crookshanks launched himself out of her arms and into Sirius’s. “He seems to remember me,” the man said lightly, a chuckle escaping his lips as he gently scratched the feline hybrid behind one ear, and Crookshanks shut his eyes, meowing indulgently. “He was a delight, both times he was at Grimmauld...”

“I couldn’t leave him,” Hermione said quietly.

Sirius looked up at her. “As if I would ever ask you to do so.”

Hermione smiled at that. “Good. He is like my own child, and I treat him like the little prince that he is.”

“As well you should,” Sirius said with a nod, nuzzling Crookshanks beneath his chin. “I hear that cats of all kinds can become temperamental when they’re not given their dues.”

Hermione giggled as Crookshanks playfully nipped at Sirius’s fingers. “Be gentle, darling,” she told him softly. “Have you spoken to my parents yet?”

“I’ve not,” Sirius told her. “Once I was cleared to leave St. Mungo’s, Mad-Eye escorted me directly to Albus’s office, just before dinner. He wanted the meeting to begin immediately, but Tonks, Severus, and I agreed to have you enjoy your evening meal beforehand.”

Hermione wetted her lips, considering for a moment. “Well, perhaps the weekend we have to go and meet with the goblins, we may go and see them. They live in Knightsbridge,” she said quietly. “Their dental practice is in Kensington, but its closed during the weekends.”

“I think that is a fantastic idea,” Sirius replied with a nod. “Your last day of term is the nineteenth, a fortnight from now. I have an appointment with my account goblin on the thirteenth, if that is agreeable.”

Hermione nodded. “I’ll write to my parents in the morning,” she said softly. “Perhaps Professor Snape can give us some Polyjuice. I wouldn’t want either of us getting spotted and potentially abducted by Death Eaters.”

“Quite right; a brilliant idea,” Sirius said, smiling.

Hermione stepped closer to her fiancé, and saw a tremor within him then, leading her to believe that his mind had yet to be completely mended. “It will be all right,” she told him softly, wanting more than anything to be supportive of him. “It has to be all right...”

Sirius smiled. “I’m hoping it will be,” he responded, reaching forward and enveloping Hermione’s hand in his.

Chapter 2: The Language of Love

Chapter Text

Hermione still felt the sensation of Sirius’s arms around her long after he had left her rooms for the evening. Crookshanks, realizing that his new friend had gone, skulked back into the bedroom to sleep, leaving Hermione to giggle at his childish antics. It was amusing to her when Crookshanks acted in such a manner, but Ron was a different matter entirely. Shaking her head, she walked to her attached bathroom, summoning her Arithmancy text behind her, knowing that she would like to do some more reading in bed later.

Stepping into her bedroom, spotting Crookshanks on her massive four-poster—easily one and a half times the size of the typical ones in the dorms—she banished her book to her bed to lie next to him. She spotted her schoolbag just beside the bed, and realized that Dobby must have brought it in there for her. Although she still wanted house-elves to have rights, she couldn’t deny Dobby small tasks here and there, for he seemed to truly enjoy helping her out, for the wails and hugs to her legs were quite difficult to get out of her mind.

Rolling her shoulders, she stepped into the attached bathroom, wistfully wishing that the hot water would wash her troubles away. However, she thought to herself as she stripped down, nothing in life was truly that easy. She’d learned that the hard way, she reasoned, getting into the shower and permitting the water to hit her.

~*~

Hermione permitted herself a bit of a lie-in the following morning, something she typically only did during the Christmas or summer holidays. Flushing as she remembered what had happened the night before, she dressed quickly, and took care of her morning absolutions before she went out into her sitting room. Summoning a quill, ink, and piece of parchment, she wandered over to her desk and sat down, knowing she had to write quickly, as she and Sirius were due to meet later that morning.

 

Dear Mum and Dad,

 

I do hope things at the practice are going well. Mrs. Beckham’s root canal last month did go well, didn’t it? I know she was worried about the expense, because Paul had that tuition check from Cambridge due. I hope her insurance covered a decent amount.

I’m sorry I haven’t written much lately; I only have myself to blame. I spend so much time writing up those schedules for Harry and Ron that I hardly have time to adhere to one myself. I won’t stand for anything less than an O on my NEWTs. But, then again, you always knew what a perfectionist I was at heart.

Headmaster Dumbledore informed me of my betrothal last evening. Harry was betrothed to Professor Snape, and Ron to Nymphadora Tonks...

 

Hermione remembered telling her parents about the spirited young Auror during her fifth-year at Hogwarts. However, although they knew the bare bones—and likely suspected that there was more—they didn’t know the full extent of Harry’s relationship with Professor Snape. Shaking her head, Hermione knew that she couldn’t go into it now.

 

and we were most blindsided by the notion that all of our parents had decided who it was we were to marry. The headmaster said it had to do with the Pureblood Regime. It’s an archaic and dangerous method of bonding couples, outlawed when Queen Victoria was on the throne. But, he assured the three of us that we would be protected, now that Minister Shacklebolt and Deputy Minister Moody are in charge.

I was perplexed at how you could willingly betroth me to a dead man, initially. However, it was quite a surprise to see Sirius in the headmaster’s office last night. Did you know he was alive? I asked him if he had spoken to you yet, and he said he had yet to do so. What with his recovery period at St. Mungo’s, there was only so much time he had to speak to anyone.

Sirius and I will be looking at potential properties to live in at Gringotts next weekend. He tells me that he doesn’t want me to live at Grimmauld, once we’re married. Coupled with his negative memories in those gothic walls, he doesn’t want his mother screaming at me whenever I am attempting to go about my business. Walburga Black was a fearsome woman—I told you about her—who managed to retain herself into portrait form following her death. I’m pleased that Sirius is being so considerate towards the both of us when it comes to where we will live, as well as our way of life, once we’re married.

I suggested to Sirius that we met one another, once our appointment is concluded. I hope these intended plans will not be objectionable to you. We the four of us all need to be on the same page, given that your only child is to be married in just a few short weeks. Although I never considered marriage so young, I know I will be happy with Sirius. He cares for me, as I do for him, and a part of me realizes how correct you were in selecting him for me.

I hope to see you both next week.

 

With love, your daughter,

Hermione

 

Hermione charmed the letter to make sure that no one else but her mother and father would be able to read it, once it left the Hogwarts grounds. Looking outside, she smiled at the notion that it had snowed the night before, and quickly bundled up in her boots, a thick scarf, gloves, and a pair of earmuffs. Her winter cloak completed the ensemble as she rushed out of her rooms, letter and wand tucked in the thick layers of her cloak.

The crisp air tickled her nose as she stepped outside, and found her heart speeding up as she spotted Sirius waiting for her, on the path leading directly to the owlery. Letting out a shriek before she could call it back, Hermione rushed forward, and Sirius pulled her into his arms, spinning her around before kissing her temple.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

Hermione flushed, attempting to convince herself that it was merely the cold. “I’m just excited to see you,” she said softly.

Sirius smiled. “I am quite fortunate that Wormtail was the only one unable to break free of Azkaban, and that his memories of the night in question were shown,” he said softly. “Although I am pleased to be a free man, I still fear for you.”

Hermione reached upwards and caressed his face. “You need not fear for me,” she said softly. “I am able to take care of myself...”

“You were certainly capable of holding your own against Dolohov during... That night,” he said, and gave Hermione a sad smile, obviously not wanting to disturb her.

Hermione swallowed; Death Eaters had come out in all directions, to the point where she, Ron, Ginny, Neville, Luna, and surprisingly Draco, hadn’t known where to turn. Yaxley had gotten ahold of her while the Carrow siblings dueled Draco and Ginny. Ron was battling with Rowle, and Neville and Luna were facing off with Rookwood and Greyback. Struggling against him, Hermione managed to elbow him in his gut, before breaking away and casting a rather rough Knockback Jinx upon him. It was then that Dolohov had come upon her, and Hermione had successfully used Confringo upon him, weakening him enough for the members of the Order of the Phoenix to take him directly to Azkaban.

“It was nothing so extraordinary,” Hermione told him quietly. “What was truly frightening was when the Dementors showed up without a moments’ notice.”

Sirius looked stunned at that. “I never heard that report...”

“That’s because most of the Aurors had gone to drop off the first round of Death Eaters at the prison,” Hermione explained, gently easing Sirius back onto the path so as they could walk along together. “The remainder of the Order was dealing with the rest, while Harry was battling Riddle with the headmaster and Professor Snape...”

“Did any of them come after you?”

“No, although they weakened Remus considerably, so by the time he went after Greyback to help Luna, it was all too little too late...”

Sirius sighed. “I should have been there...”

Hermione clutched at his hand. “I know it’s not easy to lose someone,” she told him. “You and Harry will have much to discuss about it.”

“What was so frightening about it?” Sirius asked. “Other than the obvious, of course. When they came after me and Harry during your third-year...”

“It was my Patronus which frightened me,” she whispered.

Sirius stopped short. “How could a Patronus frighten you? Harry mentioned to me that yours was an otter. Wasn’t that right?”

“It was an otter,” Hermione said, lowering her eyes. “I had to scour books and even the internet over the summer to try and figure out the proper name for the creature which came out of my wand the night on the astronomy tower...”

“Your Patronus changed?”

Hermione nodded. “Yes.”

“What form did it take?”

“A black wolfdog,” Hermione told him. “I know that your Patronus changes when you feel deep feelings of love for someone, but this was something far rarer. While mine took on the same species as your Patronus, it took on another form of the species. In all my research, it says that, while I feel love for you, I still retain my own personality, so my magic is able to differentiate between the two things.”

“So, what is the conclusion?” Sirius asked.

“By taking on the exact Patronus of the person you love, you have to sacrifice quite a bit of your own identity, and your magic, to fulfill the process,” Hermione explained. “While I don’t have to sacrifice either, my magic adhered to the notion that I am falling in love with you...”

“So what was so frightening?”

“You were dead, or presumed to be,” Hermione whispered as they got to the stone ramp which led to the owlery. “How was I to live completely with the notion that the person whose magic had aligned with mine was no longer here? I could not live completely and happily with the knowledge that I was without you...”

Sirius gently eased the pad of his gloved thumb over Hermione’s gloved knuckles. “I am positive your magic would not have reacted in such a manner if there was no hope,” he whispered. He walked up the ramp with Hermione, easily navigating the icy patches so that neither of them took a tumble. “Magic works in mysterious ways, as you well know.”

Hermione sighed, squeezing his hand as she stepped into the owlery, before letting it go and looking at the owls that were on offer that morning. She smiled at a smoky-gray one, who twittered excitedly as she entered. Stepping forward, and smoothed its feathers and chuckled as it gently nipped at her finger. “How’s a trip to Knightsbridge sound?”

The owl fluttered quite animatedly at the prospect, and Hermione handed the letter over, which the owl easily caught up in its beak. Bowing its head to Hermione, it flapped promptly towards the window, almost matching the scenery around it as it flew out of sight. Hermione watched it go, and felt the tension ease out of her body as Sirius came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, and rested his head upon her shoulder.

“Yes,” she said at last, looking down at the snowy terrain below as she leaned deeper into Sirius’s embrace. “Magic does indeed work in mysterious ways.”

~*~

After an entire weekend with Sirius, Hermione was relieved to know that the headmaster had requested that Madam Rosmerta had given Sirius permission to use her personal Floo so that he could visit her in her quarters at night. Ron also got to utilize the headmaster’s Floo to go and see Tonks at her own flat in the East End of London, while Harry would use his invisibility cloak to go into the dungeons to see Professor Snape. Hermione was pleased that Sirius would sit at one end of her couch, Crookshanks in his lap, and his nose in one of the many books she had collected over the years.

“Have you ever considered becoming an Animagus?” Sirius asked one evening, when Hermione had just finished her latest Transfiguration essay.

Hermione smiled at her fiancé as she picked up her copy of The Book of Charms and Spells – Grade Seven. “I had to do something over the summer,” she said quietly.

Sirius blinked. “I thought you were seeing Ron this summer.”

“And I was,” Hermione confirmed. “But when he was off with his brothers, plus Harry and Ginny, playing Quidditch, I had to do something to occupy my time.” She brushed the spine of the tome she held with her fingertips. “Didn’t take too long to accomplish, really. Just wish I’d thought of doing it before what happened last June...”

“Don’t blame yourself for the sickness that Riddle inflicted upon his followers, Hermione,” said Sirius gently, as he continually stroked a purring Crookshanks in his lap. “And don’t find fault in what you did or didn’t do that night. Harry tells me often how heroic both you and Ron were. He says he couldn’t have done it without you.”

Hermione shrugged. “I just want to be sure he’s all right,” she said softly, holding her book to her chest for leverage. “They made us all see mind healers after that.”

“It’s a standard practice,” Sirius told her. “When I wasn’t with the mediwitches, wizards, or the healers—and when Mad-Eye could spare me—I saw a mind healer.”

Hermione looked up. “You did?”

“I did,” Sirius confirmed. “There’s no shame in it, Hermione. In fact, many people believe that it’s beneficial to speak with a medical professional once trauma happens in your life. As much as your friends and family are capable of supporting you, mind healers know how to do and say things that those closest to us don’t.”

“What did the mind healer find?” Hermione asked.

“Healer Hawkstone said that it’s possible that my mind does remember what happened to me, once I slipped behind the veil, but that I haven’t healed emotionally enough to process it yet. As such, I need to continue seeing him for the foreseeable future, to ensure that if the memories, if they are there and do come back, I have the necessary medical support.”

Hermione reached out then and gently took ahold of Sirius’s hand. “I know that I can’t help in the same way a mind healer can, Sirius, but please know that I’m here for you, too.”

Sirius smiled, taking Hermione’s hand in his. “I know that, Hermione, but thanks so much all the same. It’s good to be reassured every now and again.”

Hermione returned his smile. “It is.”

“How are your assignments coming?”

Hermione banished her books and inched towards him; she had taken off her shoes, but hadn’t changed out of her school uniform yet, so the stockings, skirt, button-down shirt, and cardigan still remained, with the Gryffindor insignia stitched upon it. Hermione curled against Sirius, feeling herself flush as he wrapped his arm around her body, never missing a beat in his stroking of Crookshanks. “All caught up,” she told him. “The Transfiguration assignment isn’t due until after Christmas.”

Sirius peered down at Hermione. “Minerva assigned it so early?”

“No,” Hermione said, inhaling Sirius’s scent of the frosty outdoors as she shook her head. “My dear Head of House realized early on how much I like to work ahead. She finds it easier to assign my lessons early; this way, Draco and I have a better idea of how we can order the Prefects about for their patrols, as well as helping the other students who may need us.”

“Draco gets his assignments early as well?”

“Yes. Professor Snape would have been made his guardian, if he had not turned seventeen before last term ended,” Hermione explained. “Now he is merely doing it as a formality. He spoke on Draco’s behalf, once the announcement of his appointment as Head Boy was made, to ensure that Draco had a set schedule for studying for his NEWTs.”

“I hear that Draco and Ginny are now a pair...”

Hermione nodded. “Yes. Professor Snape shielded Draco from taking the mark last year, and, as such, Draco did not have to attend meetings. Draco became our friend, once he told us that he did not wish to follow in Mr. Malfoy’s footsteps. Ginny was seeing Dean last term, but, Dean realized his affections lay elsewhere...”

“With your friend Seamus,” Sirius said.

Hermione looked up at Sirius and smiled. “Exactly. Anyhow, once Dean told Ginny about his feelings for Seamus, Ginny, who initially took it rather well, was still slightly smarting, as she truly cared for Dean, and believed his feelings for her were the same. However, Draco comforted Ginny and, by the middle of May, they were an item.”

Sirius’s lips seemed to twitch automatically into a smile, and Hermione felt it, for her head was tucked beneath his chin. “I take it that there was some backlash from the Weasley family when word got out... Ron likely wrote home about it, via Pigwidgeon, I’d reckon...”

Hermione enfolded her hand into Sirius’s free one. “Of course he did,” she told him, snuggling closer to him. “Molly sent him a Howler the following week.”

“Dear Merlin,” Sirius chuckled.

“Yes,” Hermione said. “I could see it flying in with Pig, and I could tell Ron was hoping that it was for Ginny. He was sorely disappointed, however.”

“What did Molly say to Ron?”

“Told him to mind his own business when it came to Ginny’s romantic relationships,” Hermione said, trying not to laugh at the memory of the look on Ron’s face. “In fact, Draco had gone to the Burrow almost immediately after it became apparent that his feelings for Ginny were reciprocated. With both the headmaster and Professor Snape’s support, he confided in Molly and Arthur that he was firmly positioned on the side of the Light, and truly cared for Ginny. They believed him, and gave their blessing for their relationship.”

Sirius gently pulled Hermione closer. “I’m just glad that we will be facing your mother and father together,” he said softly.

“They must have known you somewhat, to betroth me to you in the first place,” Hermione remarked softly.

“I briefly spoke to your father when he brought you to Grimmauld before your fifth-year,” Sirius said, and Hermione turned to look at him as he spoke. “You ran upstairs to see Ron and Ginny; this was before the Dementor attack in Little Whinging, and before Harry’s arrival.”

“It was a lonely summer because of Headmaster Dumbledore pretty much telling us not to communicate with Harry,” Hermione replied, burying her face in Sirius’s jacket. “I wanted to write to him so badly, and apologized to him for months about it. It took him quite a bit to fully understand that Ron and I wanted to write, and did...” She bit her lip, deliberately lowering her voice as she continued. “The headmaster took our letters...”

Sirius positioned Hermione so that they were facing one another and Crookshanks jumped down with an annoyed sound, running off into the bedroom. “I don’t understand. Albus told the pair of you not to write, and you did it anyway?”

“Of course we did—he’s our best friend,” Hermione replied, wrapping her arms around herself, the fabric of her Weasley jumper from last Christmas tickling her cheeks. “We tried everything we had at our disposal—even trying to put our letters into the Floo Network,” she went on, with a slight shake of her head. “Fred and George even loaned us some of their inventions, but whatever we tried, the headmaster was one step ahead of us. The reprimands got so great that my parents stayed in the same room with me whenever I had to write an essay, for fear that I would disobey again and write Harry...”

“Did Albus ever give Harry the letters, or properly explain to him why you and Ron couldn’t write to him?”

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. He was preoccupied with Umbridge and the DA fifth-year, and then with his copy of Advanced Potion Making sixth-year. It only made sense to Ron and me when we found out that it was Professor Snape’s textbook, and that they truly had feelings for one another...”

Sirius sighed. “Albus is a manipulative old codger, to be sure, but I doubt that his reasons are malicious in nature...”

Hermione sighed. “I hope not. He knows what it’s like to have love torn from him, so he’s not likely to inflict that kind of pain on anyone...”

Sirius’s eyes snapped to Hermione’s. “You know about him and Grindelwald?”

Hermione nodded. “Yes. It’s why he could not kill him.”

Sirius reached out and cupped Hermione’s cheek. “Part of me wishes that I could whisk you away from all of this, Hermione. All to protect you, until the Death Eaters are found and captured in an appropriate manner...”

Hermione leaned into his palm with a small sigh. “You know as well as I do that they’d leave no stone unturned when it comes to finding any of us.”

Sirius leaned closer, pressing his forehead to Hermione’s. “We will truly be safe when we find a property together; the goblins have assured me that the wards will be as complex and as safe as they are here at Hogwarts.”

Hermione shivered in Sirius’s arms. “I’m so afraid, Sirius,” she whispered, her voice trembling ever so slightly. “Now that we’ve gotten you back, I’m so afraid that they’ll...”

“No one is taking me away from you willingly, Hermione,” Sirius told her firmly. “And, if it gets too dangerous, Albus has already come up with an alternative.”

Hermione swallowed. “What’s the alternative?”

“Hiding,” Sirius said.

Hermione blinked. “Hiding? How do you mean?”

Sirius deliberately lowered his voice, just in case the walls had ears. “We would all be given fake identities, and would be transported somewhere outside the Wizarding World,” he explained. “There are warded properties all over the world, both in and out of the Wizarding World, that are under local ministry control. You and I have been assigned to Australia, Harry and Severus to New Zealand, and Ron and Tonks to the States.”

Hermione clutched at Severus. “Australia?” she whispered, shaking her head. “But what about my parents, Sirius? Surely, the Death Eaters could find them and hold them hostage, all in an effort to lure me to them...”

“Albus has assured me that those close to us would be relocated as well,” Sirius told her, not letting her go. “Molly and Arthur, plus all their children and significant others, would be relocated to safety. Harry even requested asylum for the Dursley’s.”

Hermione sputtered, shaking her head. “The Dursley’s?!” she cried out. “After all they put him through and did to him, Harry would honestly want—”

“He requested it personally,” Sirius told her softly, rubbing her back in a soothing and comforting manner. “Severus himself checked Harry over for the Imperius Curse and Veritaserum. He was fully in his right mind when he asked Albus, who, of course, consented immediately.”

Hermione buried her face in Sirius’s shoulder. “He’s a far better person than me...”

“Oh no, I doubt that,” Sirius replied with a chuckle, pulling her back from him. “Now, before we got distracted, you were telling me about becoming an Animagus...”

Hermione grinned sheepishly at him then, her cheeks flushing pink. “Were you interested in seeing it?” she asked.

Sirius smiled back. “I am.”

Hermione nodded. “Very well. I call her Warg,” she told him, before extracting herself from his arms and moving from the couch and onto the carpet below. Concentrating, her pale, elegant hands became dark and furry paws, while raven-black fur grew out of her entire body, and her ears relocated themselves onto her head. Her nose became dark and wet, although her eyes remained the same, staring up at Sirius, as she let out a low howl.

“Merlin,” Sirius breathed, reaching forward tentatively, and Hermione, as Warg, promptly lowered her head so as her fiancé could pet her. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, and Warg’s eyes locked with his, a rare kind of understanding passing between the two of them, in the ancient language known as love.

~*~

Hermione was relieved that Professor Snape had some Polyjuice Potion in his stores, and she and Sirius took two vials with them. Her parents knew they would be expecting strangers later that afternoon, while the goblins were merely check their wands to verify their identities. Once the potion had done the trick, Sirius and Hermione Apparated from Hogsmeade into Diagon Alley, and went straight to Gringotts for Sirius’s appointment.

Sirius kept Hermione’s hand tucked in his as they walked along. “Odbert has been the official goblin for the Black vaults and accounts as far back as I remember,” he explained to his fiancée, and Hermione listened intently, in her new form of a willowy, black-haired witch. “So glad that goblin magic can see through all this,” he muttered, gesturing at his shock of blond hair, his new brown eyes worried.

Hermione’s new silver eyes blinked, roving over Diagon Alley for any potential sense of danger as they approached the imposing white stone building. “They’re powerful creatures,” she said quietly as they went up the steps. “Surely they’ll be able to deduce that all this was just a precaution.”

Stepping through the double doors and into the highly-polished marble foyer, Hermione yet again noticed that the diamond-cut chandelier twinkled with the lights of the fine oil lamps scattered along the wall. As they approached the desk, where she presumed Odbert sat, the goblin looked up, his black eyes peering at them closely, with fine silver hair swept back to prevent distraction.

“Ah, Mr. Black,” he said, nodding his head, holding his hand out for Sirius’s wand.

Sirius complied, handing over the wooden stick.

“And... Ah, yes, Miss Hermione Granger, your betrothed, very good, very good,” Odbert said, a deep nod once he handed Sirius’s wand back and moved to examine Hermione’s. “Wonderful,” he confirmed, and handed Hermione’s wand back. “If the two of you would be so good as to follow me...”

Hermione watched as Odbert hopped down from his stool, and meandered towards the back corridor, where numerous doors greeted their sight on both sides. Taking Sirius’s lead, they followed Odbert into one of the rooms, and were gestured to the crimson-colored velvet love seat, while Odbert summoned some documents with a wave of his clawed hand. Hermione kept quiet, knowing that this was Sirius’s appointment and should only speak when spoken to directly, as a sign of respect.

Odbert straightened up then. “Here are some of the Black family properties, and some that Albus Dumbledore handpicked for you, to be given over to you in exchange once Grimmauld Place is no longer formally and legally in your possession,” came his informative growl. “We could dissolve your family allegiance to the property today, as long as you have taken out all the possessions from within the house that you wish to keep.”

“I have, and I would appreciate that, Odbert,” Sirius said with a bow. “Thank you.”

“Very well,” Odbert said, pushing a document towards Sirius. He offered him an eagle feather quill, which Sirius and Hermione noticed was in gold ink—the most magical-laced ink of the Wizarding World—and held it out to him. “Just sign at the bottom there.”

Sirius took the quill and signed, a wave of relief seeming to come over him as the magicks worked their miraculousness.

“How do you feel?” Hermione whispered to him.

“Lighter, considerably,” Sirius replied, squeezing her hand as they watched Odbert put the document away to be sorted later.

Odbert then pushed the other documents towards them both, which contained photographs and other information about the properties available to them. “With your fortune restored, plus the return of Grimmauld Place into our keeping, you can afford all of these houses and more, Mr. Black,” the goblin growled. “Please, look to your leisure. If you have any questions, I shall be right here to answer any of them.”

Sirius took ahold of the documents, sitting back on the love seat so that Hermione could see them as well, and went slowly, only turning to the next when Hermione indicated that she’d finished with the one they’d been looking at previously. There was a townhouse in Central London; a Victorian in West Sussex; several manors in Oxshott, New Forest, and Bath; a luxury flat in Chelsea; a terraced property in Holland Park; and, finally, a beautiful cottage located in Chipping Norton, which Hermione gasped at when she saw for the first time.

The other properties had been beautiful in their own way, of course, but the townhouse was much too stifling for their needs, the Victorian was far too traditional, the manors were oppressive, the luxury flat was too populated, and the terraced property was much too exposed for their liking. It was the cottage, however, which had the homey feel of the Burrow, although done up in a most classic style that both Hermione and Sirius seemed to enjoy. Hermione took note of the gardens, where she could envision her children playing; the library, where she could picture her and Sirius working together; and, finally, the kitchen, where she could see those nearest and dearest to them gathering for delicious meals.

“I think we have come to a decision, Odbert,” Sirius said, clasping Hermione’s hand as he handed over the documentation for the cottage.

“Ah, yes, a fine choice indeed,” Odbert praised, nodding to himself. “The pair of you may, of course, sign the magical contract today, if you wish. The house and land would immediately be transferred into your names, and the wards would be established to only let the three of us in. You will, of course, be able to authorize who you wish to have unlimited access to bypassing the wards, and such a thing can be done today, if you wished it.”

“Yes, thank you, Odbert,” Sirius said with a nod.

Odbert summoned another parchment, and again dipped the eagle feather quill into the gold ink, before handing it over to Sirius. Once Sirius had signed, Hermione took ahold of the quill and signed her name as well. Odbert nodded with approval, snapping his fingers, and the document disappeared. “It will go into our files, with a copy being sent to the ministry. Your surname upon the document will, of course, change automatically when you and Sirius become husband and wife, Miss Granger,” he said, “to whatever name you sign upon your marriage document.”

“I shall be taking Sirius’s name,” Hermione said firmly, and Odbert’s eyes gleamed at the finality of Hermione’s tone.

“You’ve got yourself a fine witch, there,” Odbert said, turning to Sirius. “Pity if you ever let her go.”

Sirius took ahold of Hermione’s hand, and stared deeply into her eyes. “I’m never planning on it, unless she herself wishes to be set free,” he whispered, and Hermione found that she glowed beneath his loving gaze.

“I will be free, the day I become your wife,” Hermione said softly, wishing that Sirius would kiss her, but he was a man of his word, and merely pressed his lips to her forehead. There was, however, an insurmountable amount of love there, and she shut her eyes, savoring the sensation of it all as Sirius finalized things with Odbert for their future.

Chapter 3: Consolation Prize

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Hermione kept ahold of Sirius’s arm as they stepped out onto Charing Cross Road and promptly hailed a taxi, which would take them directly to her parents’ house. She gave the address quickly, thankful that Odbert was able to give her the proper amount, including tip, in pounds, which she had exchanged from Galleons back at Gringotts. Once the cab arrived within the bounds of Knightsbridge, Hermione paid the driver and piled out with Sirius, staring up at the beautiful, terraced house she’d called home full-time for the first eleven years of her life.

“Don’t be afraid, if you are,” Hermione said, speaking softly to her fiancé as they went up the set of four stone steps. “Mum and Dad will love you.”

Sirius smiled. “I’m not afraid, love, but I am nervous...”

“No need to be,” she assured him, rapping at the door, before standing back. “Dad!” she cried out once it had opened, leaving Sirius’s side to fly into his arms.

“Come in, come in,” Colin Granger said, smiling over his daughter’s shoulder at whom he believed to be her fiancé. “Demeter is just getting tea and biscuits ready.” Once inside, Colin turned Hermione loose, who went off in search of her mother, and saw that Colin was shaking Sirius’s hand.

Bodes well for the future if there’s such a positive introduction, Hermione mused to herself as she stepped into the galley-type kitchen, seeing her mother placing freshly-baked biscuits on one of her finer platters. “Mum!” she crowed, grinning as her mother turned towards her.

“Oh, Hermione, darling,” her mother cooed, as her daughter dashed forward and into her welcoming arms. “Is there any way you can take an antidote while you’re here?”

Hermione laughed. “Yes,” she said, using the vial Professor Snape had given her, which she was sure Sirius was drinking himself in the next room. She drank it down, shutting her eyes at the acidity of the flavor, before she opened her eyes again, which were brown once more. “That better, then?” she asked playfully, tossing her bushy hair.

Demeter laughed at her daughter’s antics, pulling her close and looking her over. “You look so happy, sweetheart,” she said warmly. “Is the betrothal going well?”

“Yes,” Hermione said, and deliberately lowered her voice. “Sirius says he’ll not take me to bed, nor kiss me, until our wedding day.”

Demeter looked amazed at Sirius’s vow. “He is interested, isn’t he?”

Hermione flushed. “Mum!”

Demeter laughed. “It’s just that you’re eighteen, love, and I certainly wouldn’t have a problem if you wanted to kiss or make love before you become Mrs. Black...”

Hermione sighed. “He says he’s interested, but that’s not the issue...”

“There’s an issue?”

Hermione bit her lip. “I never slept with Ron, Mum.”

Demeter raised her eyebrows. “Not once?”

Hermione shook her head. “No. I was pining after Sirius the entire time. Even though I thought him to be dead, I knew it wouldn’t have been fair to me, or to Ron. I could never love Ron in the way that everyone expected us to. It would certainly be more convenient if we’d fallen for one another, of course, I’m not denying that. But I knew Ron too much, and we were too familiar with one another.”

Demeter smiled at her daughter’s honesty. “And Sirius?” she asked.

“I was attracted to him from the time I was fourteen, and the seriousness of the crush had developed by the time I stayed at Grimmauld just before fifth-year,” she said quietly. “I never encouraged him, of course, but I did always wonder if he felt anything for me...”

“Of course you did, darling,” Demeter said, smiling at her daughter. “You mentioned in your letter that Harry and Ron were betrothed as well?”

“Yes,” Hermione confirmed, relieved to be talking about her two best friends, as she had been expecting an interrogation, despite the fact that her parents had arranged the betrothal on her behalf. “Harry to Professor Snape, and Ron to Tonks, the Auror that Ginny and I befriended at Grimmauld before my fifth-year.”

Demeter turned as the kettle went off, and proceeded to pour four cups of tea, which were positioned around the platter of biscuits on a tray, a small pitcher of cream, a bowl of sugar, a small honey dispenser, and a dish of lemons. “You didn’t let on much over the summer, but I could sense that there was something deeper to Harry and Professor Snape’s relationship,” she said quietly.

“You knew?”

“I could easily wager a guess that the two of them weren’t merely comrades in arms,” Demeter told her daughter. “Some people would gawk at the age difference, I’m sure, but Harry knows his own mind. He’s unlikely to walk into a situation blindfolded.”

“Yes, exactly,” Hermione said, nodding.

Demeter regarded her daughter. “Does Harry love him?”

Hermione nodded. “Yes.”

“Does Professor Snape love Harry?”

“Harry says he does, and, from the look in his eyes whenever they’re together, I can see love behind them.”

Demeter smiled. “Then, that’s all that matters,” she said, fetching some serviettes and placing them upon the tray. “And Ron and Tonks?” she asked, peering over her shoulder. “Do you think they’ll be a good match?”

Hermione smiled. “Yes, I think so. Tonks is so youthful, and she always made Ron, me, and the rest of us laugh. Plus, she’s an Auror, and Ron wishes to be one.”

“Well,” Demeter said, lifting up the tray, “they’ll certainly have a lot to discuss when they’re married, then.”

Hermione followed her mother out into the sitting room, biting her lip when she saw that her father had brought out the photo albums, and was proceeding to tell Sirius about various events of her childhood. “Must you bring those out?” she asked, trying her very best not to whine, as she sat beside Sirius on the couch.

“Honestly, Colin,” Demeter said, placing the tray upon the table, and turned to Sirius. “So nice to see you again,” she said warmly, offering her hand.

Sirius set aside the photo album and got to his feet, taking Demeter’s offered hand and bowing over it. “The pleasure is mine, Dr. Granger.”

“Demeter, please, as we’re to be family shortly,” she said, squeezing Sirius’s hand for a moment before she set to work preparing the tea. “How do you take yours, Sirius?”

“Cream and three sugars, please,” Sirius said. “But you shouldn’t have to...”

“Demeter honestly enjoys catering to our guests, Sirius,” Colin informed his soon-to-be son-in-law with a smile. “She’s also a fantastic cook. Taught Hermione everything she knows.”

“You cook?” Sirius asked, sitting down beside Hermione with a smile.

Hermione returned the smile. “Yes,” she replied.

Sirius looked interested. “What’s your best dish?”

“I’m hardly one to say,” Hermione said, turning to her parents. “What with all the conventions and lectures Mum and Dad attend in the summer, I’m frequently here, cooking up a storm, to ensure they have a hot meal when they come home.”

“It’s lovely,” Demeter reported, handing Sirius his tea, Hermione hers (a splash of cream and two sugars), Colin’s (a wedge of lemon and a generous amount of honey), and began preparing her own (a splash of cream and one sugar). “Plus, last summer, she wasn’t nearly so exhausted by the end of it, because she could clean the kitchen by magic.”

“What’s your favorite meal Hermione prepares?” Sirius asked, sipping at his tea. “Oh. That’s delicious,” he said fondly.

“I’ve always enjoyed her lasagna,” Colin said with a grin.

“As for me, it’s shepherd’s pie. I’ve a certain fondness for lamb,” Demeter said with a smile.

“As do I,” Colin replied, “but Hermione is very particular about her meat consumption.”

“How so?” Sirius asked, turning to look at his fiancée.

“I will eat white meat and the occasional fish, but I won’t touch lamb or veal,” she said softly with a shudder. “Beef is all right, though, and I enjoy it immensely.”

“Pork?” Sirius asked.

Hermione wrinkled her nose. “No,” she said.

“Always insisted upon a breast of chicken during the holidays,” Demeter said, smiling at her daughter. “Couldn’t abide the taste, or the smell, of ham.”

“It’s gotten better over the years,” Hermione said, sipping her own tea. “I would be only too glad to cook it for you, Sirius, if that’s what you wanted...”

Sirius took her hand. “I would never willingly make you uncomfortable.”

“Professor Flitwick taught Smell Extinguishing Charms for reason,” she replied, smiling. “If I don’t smell it, I’m all right.”

Sirius dragged the pad of his thumb over her knuckles. “Very well, then.”

“How did the meeting at Gringotts go, then?” Colin asked, leaning back in the love seat he was sharing with his wife, and placed an arm around her shoulders.

“Hermione told us that many of the older families are assigned their own personal goblin,” said Demeter, her eyes bright, obviously fascinated with the prospect. “Is the Black family one of those families?”

“The Sacred Twenty-Eight,” Sirius responded, “which is made up entirely of Pureblood families, are all assigned an individual goblin. I am a part of that list.”

“Amazing,” Colin breathed. “You mentioned you’d be looking at potential properties today, right, and would be relinquishing Grimmauld?”

“I relinquished Grimmauld, thank Merlin,” Sirius said with a shudder, which only abated when Hermione sensed his discomfort and leaned against him. “And we got a good look at the properties available, all of which have impressive warding systems in place.” Sirius turned and gazed at Hermione. “I won’t have anything happening to Hermione.”

“Did you find a place, then?” Demeter wanted to know.

“We did,” Hermione glowed, pressing a loving kiss to Sirius’s cheek before turning back to her parents, excitement clearly evident in her expression. “It’s a lovely cottage in Chipping Norton.”

“Oxfordshire?” Colin asked.

“Precisely,” Sirius responded.

“It’s got a massive fireplace, and it’s already on the Floo Network,” Hermione explained. “Since Headmaster Dumbledore got the Order of the Phoenix to ward your own property, and your person, I’ll be able to come and visit regularly, if you want.”

“And you’d be welcome at the cottage anytime,” Sirius said, smiling at the Grangers.

Colin took Demeter’s hand. “Well, I’m quite positive you’ll make our Hermione a very happy woman, Sirius.”

“Ah. I take it we will be grandparents one day soon?” Demeter asked, which directly caused Hermione and Sirius both to choke on their tea.

~*~

Hermione mentally went over the calendar again in her mind, marveling that she had time in between wedding preparations to squeeze in the mandatory appointment with Madam Pomfrey. Ron and Tonks had gone the day following their betrothal, while Harry and Severus had been yesterday while Hermione and Sirius had been visiting her parents. Her head momentarily pounded as she slipped off her uniform; she had been excused early from charms that day, as the Head of Houses knew about the betrothals now, and Professor Flitwick had been quite accommodating towards her when she casually mentioned the appointment to him.

“Are you ready, Hermione?” came Madam Pomfrey’s voice.

Hermione hastily grabbed the provided gown and yanked it over her head. “Yes, I’m ready, Madam Pomfrey,” she replied, pulling her hair out from the collar and hopping up onto the bed, relieved that privacy screens had been put in place.

Madam Pomfrey smiled as she moved on of the screens’ panels, stepping inside and closing the flap behind her. “No need to be nervous, dear.”

Hermione sighed, lying back onto the provided pillows and placing her hands palm down onto her stomach. “The headmaster has a plan,” she said softly, watching as the matron ran her wand from her head to her feet. “What if I can’t...?”

The matron gave her an easy smile as she finished the initial diagnostic. “Well, dear, I can tell you right now that you’re perfectly healthy—a good weight, likely from the balanced diet you eat, plus all the treks around the school, and the heavy lifting of all those books you read. That’s an excellent start.”

Hermione sucked her bottom lip into her mouth. “Will there be further investigation?” she asked, her voice soft.

“Yes, I’m afraid so,” Madam Pomfrey told her. Murmuring some words, she was able to pull up a gritty image in mid-air, above Hermione’s pelvis, and nodded to herself. “Your internal organs appear to be in working order, and healthy.” She vanished the image and moved down towards the edge of the bed. “I have to do a proper internal examination now, Hermione.”

Hermione wanted to hid her face, but somehow managed to remain still. “Will it hurt?” she asked, hating that her voice trembled.

“If you tense up, definitely,” the matron responded. “I’ll let you know what I’m doing, as I’m doing it, to ensure that you’re prepared.”

“I don’t...”

Madam Pomfrey raised her eyebrows. “The headmaster didn’t explain the full benefits of giving you all this exam?”

Hermione shook her head. “No. I just thought we all needed a physical or something before we got married...”

Madam Pomfrey sighed. “Well, that’s a part of it, certainly, but...” She pursed her lips. “He did mention that the three couples needed to produce heirs, didn’t he?”

Hermione nodded. “Yes.”

“And in order to produce an heir, you, Harry, and Tonks will have to become pregnant,” Madam Pomfrey said slowly. “And, in order to achieve pregnancy...”

“I know I will have to make love with Sirius, as Harry will have to with Professor Snape, and Tonks with Ron,” Hermione said quickly. She wasn’t a complete idiot, after all...

Madam Pomfrey gave her a small smile. “Before the wedding can take place, Hermione, we all have to ascertain if you’re all able to have children.”

Hermione choked, her cheeks flushing; she hadn’t considered that. Her mother’s younger sister, her aunt, Hestia, had been unable to have children naturally, so she and her husband had adopted her cousins—Morgan, Seymour, and Tristan. She had read somewhere that difficulties with pregnancy and childbirth could be inherited; her father was one of five children, but her mother could only conceive her, while Hestia couldn’t conceive at all...

“Is there medical history I should be made aware of?”

Hermione sighed, knowing she had to tell the truth. “My father, Colin, was the third of five children,” she said softly, wanting to begin with the good news first. “My mother, Demeter, only had a younger sister, Hestia. My mother had difficulties in conceiving me, and I wasn’t born until she was in her mid-thirties. As for Aunt Hestia, she couldn’t conceive naturally at all, and so adopted my cousins, Morgan, Seymour, and Tristan, with her husband, Lionel.”

“Ah, I see,” Madam Pomfrey replied with a nod. “Well, there are three options here in order to get you an heir.”

“Yes?” Hermione asked.

“Naturally, if you’re able to carry a child,” Madam Pomfrey told her. “The second is blood adoption; there’s a potion needed, which Severus will be more than happy to make for you. As for the third option, there is a pregnancy potion, which is reminiscent of invitro fertilization. You would become pregnant, regardless of your womb or eggs.”

“And if Sirius cannot reproduce?”

Madam Pomfrey smiled a little sadly. “His results came back with flying colors.”

Hermione sighed, falling backwards on the pillows behind her. “So, if we cannot have an heir, then, by process of elimination, it would be my fault?”

“Let’s not get too hasty here, Hermione,” Madam Pomfrey told her gently. “First, I have to do the internal examination. Then we’ll see if either potion is necessary.”

Hermione was tense throughout the entirety of the examination, and was relieved that Sirius had further business in London that day—the last thing she wanted was him asking her what Madam Pomfrey would report. Yes and no answers were a Merlin-send, and Hermione always answered the matron in clipped tones whenever something was asked of her. She was relieved when Madam Pomfrey told her she was finished, and left her to get dressed.

Hermione removed herself from the bed, putting her uniform back on. It was soon lunchtime, so she would have plenty of time to breathe before Herbology later that afternoon. Harry and Ron had gotten the day off from classes, because Harry wanted to look through his vaults for a gift for Severus, while Ron had received special permission to look inside the Prewett vaults for a gift for Tonks.

Grabbing her bookbag, Hermione slipped out from the hospital wing, her heart falling somewhere near her feet when she saw that Ginny was waiting for her. Rushing forward, it was a relief to Hermione when the youngest Weasley automatically opened her arms and embraced her, while Hermione wept onto her shoulder. Ginny gave her a moment, before gently easing her backwards and looked her over.

“Come on,” she said gently. “You have Herbology next, and I have Hagrid. We’ll ask Dobby to bring us lunch in your rooms, all right?”

Hermione nodded through her tears. “All right,” she blubbered.

Ginny easily led her through the crowds of students hurrying to lunch, and guided Hermione to the Head Girl’s rooms. Looking up at the portrait, she smiled at the fellow redhead. “Good afternoon, Athena,” she said.

“Oh, Ginny!” Athena cried out, obviously pleased to see her, while her owl hooted from her shoulder, and her gaze shifted over to Hermione. “Oh, dear. She had her examination with Madam Pomfrey today, didn’t she?”

“I’m afraid so,” Ginny replied, rubbing Hermione’s shoulder.

Athena sighed, her shoulders sagging inelegantly. “I remember when Madam Hygieia gave us our examinations after our betrothals were announced to the Inner Circle,” she said softly.

“The what?” Hermione managed to get out.

“Trusted individuals that know about the betrothal,” Ginny said gently, pulling a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbing at Hermione’s eyes, which had gone puffy.

“Zeus was headmaster then, naturally, at the now-defunct Athens Conservatoire of Witchcraft and Wizardry,” Athena explained with a shudder. “He agreed to my match with Hephaestus, but I vanished from the bed via a Summoning Spell. The little twit Gaia, who always wanted my darling Hephaestus, arranged with Zeus to have herself cleverly hidden, thus impregnating herself with his seed. She gave birth to Erichthonius, forcing Hephaestus to annul his marriage to me—as I was cleverly hidden away at the time. Gaia’s son was considered somewhat of an enigma and, because of this, was thought to be special. He became Minister of Magic in Greece when he was old enough.”

“Merlin, I’m so sorry,” Hermione whispered. Holding herself together, she said the password and went inside her rooms with Ginny, flopping down onto her red velvet couch.

“Dobby?” Ginny called, hopping onto a finely-upholstered easy chair, with Crookshanks automatically hopping into her lap.

Dobby appeared and swept bows to them both. “Mistress Ginny has called for Dobby?” the house-elf asked, his ears flapping excitedly.

“Lunch for two, please, Dobby,” Ginny said, gently tangling her fingers into Crookshanks’ orange fur. “A platter of bread, cheese, cold cuts, and fruit, if you can manage it.”

“I’d like Gillywater, please,” Hermione said softly.

“Ooh, yummy. Make that two, please, Dobby,” Ginny told the elf.

Dobby clapped his hands. “Dobby will do this for Mistress Ginny and Mistress Hermione!” he cried out, before snapping his fingers and disappearing back to the kitchens.

Ginny sat back on the chair, smiling down at Crookshanks, who had made himself right at home in her lap, purring softly. “Did Madam Pomfrey upset you?”

Hermione shook her head. “No.”

Ginny nodded. “She gave you the internal examination, didn’t she?”

Hermione swallowed. “Yes.”

“Did she find anything out of the ordinary?”

“Well, she didn’t say so, but...”

Ginny leaned forward. “Then, what’s got you so upset?” she asked.

Hermione nibbled her lip. “Are you and Draco betrothed?”

Ginny sighed. “Yes. Since he’s defected from the Death Eaters, Professor Snape has assumed guardianship as his godfather. Of course, the betrothal can’t be announced until August, when I turn seventeen...”

“And Luna and Neville?”

“Yes,” Ginny said again. “Their betrothal can’t be announced until February. But his grandmother and Mr. Lovegood have approved the match.”

Hermione sighed. “There was a purpose to the examination...”

Ginny’s brows knit together. “I thought it was just a formality...”

Hermione shook her head. “No.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “It’s not just the marriages that need to happen, Ginny...”

“What do you mean?” Ginny breathed.

“Ron has to impregnate Tonks, Professor Snape has to impregnate Harry, and Sirius has to impregnate me,” she whispered.

Ginny blinked. “That’s not so unusual. In old Pureblood families, it was always mentioned that an heir of some form or another was beneficial...”

“Not just because of that, Ginny.”

Ginny sat back. “Then, I’m afraid I don’t understand...”

Hermione’s eyes locked with hers. “The next prophecy... It’s about three virgins having children, blood of their blood, to ensure that the Death Eaters will be kept at bay.”

Ginny shook her head. “How do we know Tonks is a virgin?”

Hermione sighed. “Apparently, either parent can be the virgin. It’s not the vessel that the virginal status is directly applied to.”

Ginny wrinkled her nose. “Makes you sound like a Ming vase...”

Hermione shuddered. “It wasn’t long ago that women were considered property to be bought and sold,” she said darkly. “Why do you think this arrangement was made in the first place?”

“I thought Kingsley amended it...”

“Doesn’t matter,” Hermione said, cutting her off. “It’s the origins that stick.”

~*~

Hermione stood upon the hassock in the back room of Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions, looking at herself in the trio of floor-length mirrors around her. Sirius, Harry, and Ron were getting fitted for dress robes in the room for men, Tonks was refurbishing her mother’s robes, and Professor Snape was getting his robes from a company nearer to Hogwarts. Hermione swallowed; behind her stood Ginny, Luna, and Molly Weasley; she had been disappointed when her own mother was unable to make it, but resolved to do her best with her two closest female friends and surrogate mother.

“Let us see you properly, dear,” Molly said with a smile.

Hermione bit her lip and turned around slowly, not wanting to catch herself upon the long skirt and go tumbling off the hassock. This was her favorite gown of all; it was strapless, with a ballgown skirt, and, while simple, she felt utterly radiant in it. “Well,” she said softly, even though she felt reminiscent of a lamb being led to the slaughter, “what do you all think?”

Ginny squealed with delight, clasping her hands. “Merlin, Hermione! It’s even nicer than your dress from the Yule Ball!”

“You look like a fairy, with an orb of light shimmering around you,” Luna said with a small smile, although her eyes spoke the truth.

“I think that’s a wonderful choice, Hermione dear,” Molly said, dabbing at her eyes. “Now, we must select a hair piece and style to go around it, and your shoes.”

Hermione, once she was permitted to get back into her Muggle clothes, felt relieved. The only addition to her wardrobe now was the elegantly-appointed engagement ring that Severus had bestowed upon her the day before, after he had returned from his business in London. It was a band of platinum, with a beautiful oval-shaped diamond in the center, surrounded by smaller diamonds all around it. It was a beautiful piece, and Hermione had fallen in love with it. She felt a sense of relief when she traded the impressive white heels for her trainers, and stepped back out into the main room of the shop, grinning as she spotted Sirius.

“Find anything?” he asked indulgently, pulling her into his arms without hesitation and kissing her forehead.

“Yes, everything,” Hermione confirmed. “Although, I’ll readily admit to taking trainers over those heels any day,” she said, smiling cheekily.

“You could wear a combination of things from a rubbish bin, Hermione, and I would still marry you each time,” Sirius said fondly.

Hermione’s next week was spent taking her mid-term examinations, so she hardly had an opportunity to think about her wedding to Sirius. Thankfully, both she, Harry, and Ron had agreed on private, individual ceremonies, each selecting different places around the castle. Ron and Tonks were to be married high in the air of the Quidditch pitch, which Hermione thought suited them just right. Harry and Professor Snape had decided upon the Great Hall, with Harry whispering to Hermione that he wouldn’t mind being taken by the man upon the high table. As for Hermione and Sirius, Hermione was pleased that he had agreed to having their ceremony in the library, and Madam Pince had actually agreed to it as well.

Hermione concluded her final mid-term examination on Ancient Runes with Professor Babbling, before making her way back to her room. Her plan for the evening was to have a simple meal, clean her quarters, and have her and Crookshanks’ things together for their departure. Now that all the paperwork was signed, Sirius and she had been granted ownership of the cottage, and they would be spending the Christmas holidays there. She wondered if Crookshanks would enjoy their new home, but, she reasoned, given how much he loved both her and Sirius, she suspected he would.

Ordering from the kitchens from Dobby that evening, Hermione dined on roast chicken and potatoes before she set to work on cleaning. Utilizing the Cleaning Charms that Molly had taught her over the years, she was practically finished in no time. She then packed up her and Crookshanks’ belongings, and took a shower, before downing the vial of Dreamless Sleep that Professor Snape had given her. Rolling her shoulders, she got into bed, whispering, “Nox,” knowing quite well she would need as much energy as possible for tomorrow.

Hermione awoke at the appointed hour, showering again before she put on the specialty undergarments that Madam Malkin had made for her. The tap at her door didn’t scare her, and she opened it, allowing Ginny and Luna inside. Ginny had the use of a time-turner that day, as she needed to be present at both her wedding as well as Ron and Tonks’s. “Thank you for being here,” Hermione said, taking them back into her room and allowing them to assist her with her dress, hair, and makeup.

“You look lovely, Hermione,” Luna said; she was resplendent in a soft lavender dress for the occasion, and looked quite pretty.

“I only hope to look half as lovely as you when Draco and I tie the knot,” Ginny said wistfully as she pulled her own green gown into place. “You’re ready.”

Hermione was pleased that Dobby arrived shortly thereafter, holding the three bouquets from Professor Sprout. Hermione’s was red roses, while Ginny’s were cornflowers and Luna’s sunflowers. Ginny and Luna walked ahead of her along the most direct route to the library, and they ran into her parents along the way.

“Good morning,” Ginny and Luna twittered.

“You all look lovely,” Colin Granger informed them all.

Demeter leaned in and kissed Hermione’s cheek. “I just wanted to see you before we all went in there,” she said, trying and failing to keep from crying. “You look beautiful, Hermione, and I love you very much.”

“I love you, too, Mum,” Hermione replied.

Demeter walked into the library shortly thereafter, with Ginny and Luna following, taking their places as Maid of Honor and Bridesmaid respectively.

“Are you ready?” Colin asked his daughter as he offered her his arm.

“Yes,” Hermione whispered, taking it.

Colin steadily walked his daughter into the library, and she found that she was shocked to see Harry standing beside Sirius.

“Time-turner?” she mouthed to him, and Harry grinned, nodding.

Looking around, Hermione noticed that not many people were present. Draco was there, making mooning eyes at Ginny, and Neville sat beside him, with her mother on Draco’s other side, still weeping. Determined to focus, she allowed her father to lead her towards Sirius, and got a good look at her fiancé for the first time that day. She hadn’t seen him since Thursday night, given the tradition of not seeing the bride before the wedding day.

Heart beating somewhere near her throat, she permitted her father to kiss her cheek, before she was handed over to Sirius, who looked resplendent in black robes.

“Dear friends and family,” the headmaster said, easily calling everyone’s attention to him, “we are gathered here in the Hogwarts Library to celebrate the bond of love, between Sirius Black and Hermione Jean Granger.” He turned to Sirius with a smile. “Sirius, do you take Hermione to be your lawfully bound magical partner? To bond yourself to her, forsaking all others, in mind, magic, body, and soul?”

Sirius smiled down at Hermione. “I do.”

“And do you, Hermione, take Sirius to be your lawfully bound magical partner? To bond yourself to him, forsaking all others, in mind, magic, body, and soul?”

Hermione grinned. “I do.”

“By the powers of Merlin, Circe, Godric, Helga, Rowena, and Salazar,” Dumbledore went on, “I now pronounce you bonded as wizard and witch forevermore. Sirius, you may now kiss your bride,” he said fondly.

Sirius stepped forward, taking Hermione by the waist as she wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed her. Hot, branding fire and scintillating cool ice flowed through Hermione’s veins at the press of his lips to hers, and she leaned forward, permitting him to taste her for the first time, and all was magical. Finally, Sirius broke away from her, grinning, before he turned to the headmaster, who held a gleaming parchment and two phoenix feather quills.

“Your marriage contract which, once signed, will go into the Hall of Records at the Ministry of Magic,” he reported, banishing it onto a nearby table.

Hermione and Sirius stepped forward, pricking each other’s fingers with the sharp nib of the quill, before signing their names in their blood. Ginny and Harry stepped forward as well to sign the witness lines, before the parchment rolled up on its own, and popped into oblivion. Sirius took Hermione by the hand, and Hermione smiled at him.

“Now, you may go and enjoy the Christmas holidays,” said the headmaster, snapping his fingers, and Dobby appeared, holding two suitcases, and their traveling cloaks, with Crookshanks in his little cage beside him, looking most put out.

“You’re taking us, Dobby?” Hermione asked.

“Dobby is to be taking Master Sirius and Mistress Hermione to their beautiful cottage,” Dobby replied excitedly, ears flapping.

Hermione smiled, watching as Sirius picked up Crookshanks’ cage. “Do we have time to say goodbye?” she whispered to them both.

“We always have time for that, love,” Sirius informed his new wife.

Hermione turned around immediately and embraced both her parents, followed by Ginny and Luna, a quick wave to Neville and Draco and, finally, turned to Harry. She rushed forwards then, hugging him gratefully. “You will write me, won’t you?”

Harry nodded, holding Hermione tightly. “I will. Perhaps Severus and I can arrange a visit as well. And, don’t forget, we still have second-term.”

“I know,” Hermione said, tears filling her eyes. “I know you’ll be happy with Professor Snape. I can see how much he loves you.”

“And I know you’ll be happy with Sirius,” Harry whispered back. “But don’t expect me to ever call you my godmother.”

Hermione laughed aloud through her tears, squeezing Harry one final time before forcing herself to break away from him, and turned to the headmaster. “Thank you, sir.”

“Of course, my dear,” he replied. “Now, run along to your honeymoon, now.”

Hermione grinned at him, before she turned towards Sirius and Dobby, and moved forward, taking one of Dobby’s hands, and her trunk in her free hand. “Ready.”

Dobby focused then, his house-elf magic coming to the forefront of his psyche, so as to bypass the ancient magic of the Hogwarts wards, and the three of them cracked away. Upon arrival, Dobby and Sirius managed to retain their balance completely, but Hermione’s legs nearly gave out from under her. Looking around, she saw that they were in the beautiful living room of their new cottage, and turned to Sirius with a grin.

“Dobby must return to Hogwarts now,” said the elf from between the two of them, gently setting down Sirius’s trunk. “There are plenty of provisions in the kitchen, and the Floo and the wards have been opened to those with express permission. Dobby will see you later,” he said with a bow and, with a flourish, popped away.

Hermione immediately bent down and unlatched Crookshanks’ cage, and the angry ball of orange fur proceeded to run about the house, growling and hissing as he went. Hermione looked up at her husband and smiled. “I think he likes it here.”

Sirius stepped towards her and took her hand. “Not as much as I do, Mrs. Black.”

Hermione shivered at Sirius’s use of her new surname; it was quite difficult to believe that the man before her was not only alive, but now her husband as well. She permitted herself to be led into his arms, and bit down hard upon her bottom lip. “I know we have to fulfill the marriage contract as soon as possible...”

“New blood for the cause,” Sirius said softly. “You, Harry, and Tonks must be pregnant by the end of second-term.”

Hermione swallowed. “What if I can’t?” she whispered.

Sirius held her against him. “Poppy told us both that there should be no difficulty in you becoming pregnant, love,” he said softly, rubbing soothing circles up and down her back in an effort to bring her comfort. “Apparently, you inherited your father’s genes in that regard.”

Hermione pulled back slightly, so as she could look up into her new husband’s face. “Do you actually want children?” she whispered. “Or are you just doing this because, you know, the headmaster asked it of you?”

Sirius stepped forward, gently taking ahold of Hermione’s face into his hands. “I didn’t accept because Albus asked me, or because I need an heir. I accepted because I love you.”

Hermione’s eyes shone with tears. “You love me?”

Sirius took the pads of his thumbs and gently wiped Hermione’s tears away. “I do,” he replied, smiling down at her. “I think I always have...”

Hermione closed the distance between them then, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I love you, too, and know that I always will,” she whispered, tilting her face up to be kissed, and felt the fire and ice in her veins once more as Sirius pressed his mouth to hers.

Notes:

Hermione's meat preferences are my own, with the exception of fish (I'm allergic to shellfish, and the only seafood product I actually eat is fried calamari). I also make an incredible lasagna, which my own father loves very much.

Chapter 4: A Cottage in the Rain

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Hermione flitted about the cottage like a Golden Signet; it was one thing to see photographs, courtesy of the goblins at Gringotts, but another thing entirely to see every room right before you in person. Peeking over her shoulder, she smiled as Sirius observed her indulgently for a moment, before he cast a Feather-Light Charm upon their trunks, and guided the pair of them seamlessly up the stairs with his wand.

Dashing through the kitchen, Hermione spotted a pair of white French doors with brass handles, and ran for them, opening them up to a beautiful courtyard, which formed into the land surrounding their house. There was a conservatory which looked vaguely Victorian beyond, and Hermione could clearly see a lovely table and several chairs positioned inside it. There were also several plants, which made her smile at the green forest within. And finally, there was a Steinway & Sons Rococo-style grand piano within, done up in impressively-carved cherrywood, alongside an old-fashioned gramophone.

There was an orchard on the property, which had impressive plum (both Dirigible and non), pomegranate, olive, orange, apricot, lemon, fig, pear, cherry, apple, and peach trees. Around the area were mulberry, blackberry, raspberry, blueberry, gooseberry, blackcurrant, cranberry, and strawberry plants, which Hermione could imagine making lovely jams or pies with come the summer season. Just beside the orchard was the kitchen garden, which featured courgettes, aubergine, tomatoes, carrots, spring onions, celery, potatoes, leeks, rhubarb, onions, climbing French beans, kale, spinach, okra, lettuce, parsnips, squash, asparagus, peas, rocket, swede, beetroot, pumpkin, shallots, brussels sprouts, radishes, cabbage, watercress, artichoke, cauliflower, and broccoli. Finally, just beside the kitchen garden was the herb garden, which featured basil, thyme, oregano, chives, tarragon, catnip for Crookshanks, garlic, parsley, lemon grass, and sage. Each plant featured had a little indicator beside it, and Hermione beamed at both Neville and Luna’s handiwork in this, as it was hers and Sirius’s wedding gift from two of her closest friends.

With wandering eyes, Hermione found Harry and Severus’s wedding gift to them, which was the flower garden. Roses, tulips, daffodils, irises, wisteria, hollyhock, geraniums, hydrangeas, daisies, foxglove, hyacinth, poppies, peonies, lavender, lilies, and violets covered rows upon rows of beds. A stipulation of the wards upon which the goblins installed were that flowers, vegetables, herbs, and trees of different climates could now all be suited to an English country cottage garden. It was ancient magic, according to Headmaster Dumbledore, but beneficial nonetheless if you wished for a wider variety than that of a Muggle yard.

There was a whinny from close by and, turning, Hermione saw a beautiful red barn on just the other side of the orchard. The French doors came open from behind her then, and Sirius stepped out into their garden. Staring quizzically at her husband, the man gave her that same indulgent and loving look as he stepped forward.

Sirius took her hand in his. “It seems as though the goblins neglected to mention that our cottage is a working farm as well.”

Hermione’s eyes widened. “A farm?”

“Yes,” Sirius told her, nodding. “Horses, cows, chickens, some goats, pigs, and sheep. There’s also a dog who herds the sheep,” he explained.

“Who works the farm?”

“Many people,” Sirius told her, “all who are experts on their respective animals that they’ve agreed to tend to. However, I’ve given them the day off, as it is our wedding day, and they were all extremely understanding.”

Hermione rolled on the balls of her feet. “I always loved horse riding,” she said, and gave Sirius a shy smile.

Sirius looked indulgently down at his young wife. “As do I,” he replied, placing his hand upon the small of her back as he guided her through the orchards, and towards a massive red barn just beyond. Using his wand, he summoned an apple for each of them as they walked, before they walked into the stables, taking a look at their horses for the first time. “The first two are for our own personal mounts,” he explained, “while the rest are working horses.”

Hermione, still holding the apple in her hand, stepped towards the personal horses, and caught sight of the mare which was likely intended for her. “Hello,” she said softly, and the white mare huffed curiously under her breath. Slowly stepping forward, always in the beautiful creatures’ line of sight, Hermione showed her the apple. “Look what I’ve brought for you,” she said, and offered the magnificent animal the piece of fruit, flattening her hand as she did so, brown eyes alight with excitement.

The mare lowered her head, her impressive nostrils inhaling the scent of the fruit on offer, before she slowly opened her mouth and accepted it. It was an amazing thing to watch, and the beautiful thing even ate the entire core. It kept its head down, eyes trained upon Hermione, as she stepped forward, and smoothed its mane, cooing softly at her, as she touched its body for the first time. It was a great relief when she spied a brush, showing it to the horse, and smoothed its fur, and the horse shut her eyes in enjoyment.

There was a flash of something from outside then, and the early winter sunshine disappeared into dark gray clouds. Peering out of the barn, and past Sirius petting the impressive black stallion he had claimed for his own, the sky cracked. The crack turned into a boom, and Sirius pulled himself away from the stallion, and grabbed ahold of Hermione as both horses whinnied, rising up onto their back legs in fear as thunder and lightning slashed through the sky. Keeping ahold of his wife’s hand, Sirius pulled her out of the stables and back through the orchard, as heavy rain pelted them from above.

Hermione gasped at the sensation, of thunder which filled her ears, her eyes taken up by the flashes of lightning, and her body becoming doused with rain. Her wedding gown clung to every inch of her body, and Sirius took that moment to turn and gaze upon her, his blue eyes flashing with hunger. Sensing her husband’s eyes upon her, Hermione turned slowly, the rain dripping from the dark curls of his hair, his lips parted and dripping wet with raindrops, and his eyes roving over the entirety of her body.

“Sirius...” She whispered.

Sirius released Hermione’s hand then, utilizing it to tilt her chin up, and permitted his lips to meet hers in the rain-soaked orchard. He delighted in the slight gasp which escaped betwixt his young wife’s lips at his descent, and relished in her taste once their lips met. They seemed to part their lips at once, no longer satisfied with so brief a touch, and their tongues carefully came out to play, almost as if they mutually feared rejection.

Hermione let out a startled gasp as she was suddenly slammed against a hard and wet trunk of an apple tree, and immediately wrapped her arms and legs around her husband. She felt positively wanton as a moan escaped her, directly following her husband grinding up against her. Shivering as further raindrops slid beneath her gown, she somehow managed to tear her lips away from her loving husband, and stared deeply into his eyes.

“Might I persuade you to move this to a bed?” she whispered coyly.

Sirius’s eyes darkened further then, as he eased Hermione into an easier holding position. Keeping ahold of her hand, he rushed through the rain-sodden garden, before wandlessly opening the French doors before him, and carried her over the threshold. “Permit me to show you to the master bedroom suite, Mrs. Black,” he said, his voice husky with lust, and somehow managed to snap his fingers, a wandless Drying Spell preventing them from ruining their health, or the expensive Parisian carpets throughout the house.

Hermione giggled as she was carried through the luxury kitchen, the parlor, and down the corridor before Sirius began to climb the sweeping grand staircase. There was beautiful scarlet and gold stair carpet upon the cherry wood stairs, and Sirius kept ahold of Hermione as he climbed them quickly. He ventured towards a finely-carved door, opening it with a wave of his hand, and Hermione gasped as they crossed the threshold.

The walls were done up in a beautiful dark red hue, and the cherrywood four-poster bed seemed to dominate the space. Each side of the bed had cherrywood nightstands, while the bed itself was outfitted with a red velvet canopy, matching curtains, and a golden cord to pull them shut, and was completed by impressive golden bedding, along with a long bench positioned at the foot of the bed, outfitted in a similar style. There were paintings by John William Waterhouse with gilt frames scattered on various walls, with Hermione recognizing all of them, due to her frequent visits to art museums growing up. There was Miranda – the Tempest, The Magic Circle, Circe Invidiosa, The Crystal Ball, The Sorceress, Fair Rosamund, La Belle Dame Sans Merci, and Tristan and Isolde.

“All originals, from the House of Black Family Collection,” Sirius told Hermione softly. “Your father told me how much you favored this painter. He was sorted into Ravenclaw, did you know that?”

Hermione smiled when Sirius released her, thus allowing her to take a closer look at the breathtaking paintings. “I’ll admit, I wasn’t aware he attended Hogwarts...”

“Muggleborn, just like you,” Sirius told her, his voice quiet, as he walked up behind her, watching as she took in the gorgeous brush strokes of the sea, just in front of the red-haired maiden named Miranda. “All he wanted to do was go into the arts, like the rest of his family, so he left the Wizarding World after he graduated from Hogwarts in 1867, before he joined the Royal Academy of Art four years later.”

Hermione leaned backwards into Sirius’s arms; apart from the little gallery dedicated to Waterhouse in their master bedroom suite, it had its other luxuries. There were two cherrywood wardrobes on opposite walls on either side of the bed, plus more Parisian carpets spread about the floor. The ceilings were incredibly high, and painted with attractive cupids in the same style as the Waterhouse paintings. A fine crystal-cut chandelier controlled the center of their bedroom ceiling, and had genuine candles within it.

There was a vanity table with a gilt-framed mirror, with a wonderful little cushioned chair just in front of it, already covered with all of Hermione’s favorite makeup and cosmetic products, despite the fact that she didn’t use them much, apart from very special occasions. Through the only other door in the bedroom was the attached bathroom, with a large standing shower, dual sinks, plenty of counter space, a loo, a bidet, and a bathtub outfitted with marble that was large enough for a small army.

Hermione pulled her bottom lip into her mouth, whereupon she waved the red velvet window curtains shut, and turned to her husband, ensuring that the candlelight from the chandelier was low enough to emanate an intimate glow throughout the room. “I think we’ve waited long enough, don’t you, my husband?” she whispered.

Sirius looked as if he would expire on the spot, as he reached behind his young wife and quickly began untying the knots at the back of her gown. He took great delight in Hermione’s gasp at the sensation of his hands upon her bare skin, and, once the gown was off from her and her heels had been hastily kicked away, he lifted her up into his arms again and brought her over to the bed, placing her there reverently.

Hermione braced herself upon her elbows, not wanting to miss a moment of her husband disrobing for the first time. Heart in her throat, she watched as Sirius’s burgundy and midnight blue wedding robes came off, giving way to black trousers and a white button-down. She gripped hard upon the golden goose down comforter, watching as Sirius kicked off his highly-shined black Oxfords with passion, before she lunged forward, and proceeded to unbutton his shirt with a haste she didn’t know she had within her.

Sirius was momentarily taken aback by his wife’s forcefulness, but nevertheless unzipped his trousers and removed his socks with a wave of his hand. “No need to rush, love,” he told her gently, cupping her face as she eased the shirt from his shoulders. “We’ve got the rest of our lives to make love, you know.”

Hermione smiled up at him. “Yes, I know,” she whispered, heart hammering in her breast at the sight of his lithe and toned body, pale and just barely sun-kissed. Her hands trembled as she eased back onto her knees, swallowing at the sight of her husband’s arousal in a pair of scarlet silk boxers. It was a fantastic feeling, knowing he wanted her, and she sucked her lower lip into her mouth as she brought a cautious hand forward, softly tracing the outline of Sirius’s erection with the pad of her index finger.

Sirius breathed in harshly through his bared teeth, his eyes closing immediately, and Hermione found herself altogether powerful at the notion that she was capable of evoking such emotions from her husband. Sirius’s eyes opened slowly then, staring down at Hermione, who was kneeling before him, her curly hair long enough to cover the tops of her swollen breasts, and found she looked more tempting than any woman, witch or Muggle, he’d ever seen before. She was yet to be naked, and was instead in the white silk corset trimmed with lace, and the white panties she had been wearing beneath her wedding gown. She was beautiful, she was perfect, and Sirius knew he would have taken her for himself eventually, had he not been handed the chance to marry her.

“Sirius...” Hermione whispered, her cheeks flushing with arousal, her heartbeat becoming a prominent sound throughout the master bedroom suite. Though she knelt before her husband, her knees and legs shook ever so slightly at the notion of what they were about to do. The gasp that escaped forth from her lips could not be called back as her husband slowly reached behind her, and proceeded to gently unknot, then tug at, the silk ribbon which held the beautiful corset she was wearing in place.

“Hermione,” Sirius whispered back, the huskiness not leaving his tone, especially as Hermione did not take her hand from his erection, although the merest traces of fingertips had now graduated to full-on cupping.

Hermione gave her husband a shy smile, wondering why such a handsome man as Sirius Black would even look on her that way. Of course, he likely cared about her well-being, given that she was one of the best friends of his godson. However, Hermione was determined to believe that it meant more to him than that and, even when an heir for the House of Black was produced, she found that she hoped he could still bear to touch her...

“You’re shaking,” Sirius remarked softly, breaking into her thoughts as he finished untying her corset, and gently eased it off from around her body. “Are you afraid?”

Hermione wetted her bottom lip for a moment, before she slowly pulled it into her mouth. She hated that her shoulders shook, and hastily wrapped her arms around herself, wishing not to be vulnerable in front of this man who was now, inexplicably so, her husband. Lowering her eyes, the tears came unbidden, suspending themselves upon her lashes, and, as she shivered from the shame of showing such outward negative emotions, she wondered if Sirius would be altogether disgusted with her demeanor, and leave in a huff.

Sirius slowly tossed the corset across the room, and knelt before his young wife, before he gently tilted her chin up, waiting for her extraordinary brown eyes to lock with his common-looking blue ones. “Hermione, are you frightened, love?” he whispered.

Hermione bit her tongue; he was not acting patronizing towards her, not in the least, which was quite a shock, and she discovered that he was, instead, being quite gentle. Shaking her head, she got up from her knees and drew them to her chest, still covering herself from his prying eyes. “Not because of what we have to do, but because of the meaning behind it...”

Sirius lowered his hand from her chin and gently took her hand in his. “Would you mind telling me what you mean by that?”

Hermione sighed, hating that the tears had escaped from her lashes and were now leaving wet trails down her cheeks. “I don’t want you to think that I don’t want to, but...”

“But it is a big step,” Sirius said softly. “I won’t lie and tell you that I’ve never been with a woman, Hermione, because I have, a few...”

“I’m not jealous,” Hermione told him crossly, glaring at him.

Sirius gave her a small smile. “And I would never insinuate that you were,” he said, obviously trying not to laugh. “However, since we are now husband and wife, I would like to have a certain openness between the two of us, in which we are honest with one another. If I promise to be true and faithful in that way, and in all ways, can you promise the same to me?”

Hermione nodded. “I can. It is not a difficult promise to make, not to you.”

Sirius smiled, reaching out and gently wiping away one of her tears with the pad of his thumb. “I still would like to hear what is bothering you, though...”

Hermione swallowed, not pulling away, but not leaning towards him either. “I suppose I’m wondering where the two of us stand...”

“Stand?”

“Emotionally speaking,” she whispered, drawing her shoulders inward. “I mean, my parents betrothed me to you, and you honored their plea by marrying me. However, I am unsure if you merely did so out of obligation and honor...”

“You fear that I don’t have feelings for you, true feelings of a romantic nature?” Sirius asked her, regarding her seriously. “I affirmed my love for you, Hermione...”

Hermione’s eyes wetted further with tears. “I know. I just fear that...”

“That I merely said so to reassure you?”

Hermione nodded, putting her face into her hands and sobbing. “I am so sorry,” she whispered, her voice muffled by her hands. “I know I should have more faith in you, not just because you’re in the Order, or that Headmaster Dumbledore trusts you, or that my parents chose you for me, let alone the fact that you agreed to this marriage...”

Sirius reached out then, gently prying Hermione’s hands from her eyes. “When I told you I loved you, it was because I meant it, Hermione Jean Black. It is only natural to feel unsure, especially when you will have your first and only lover at eighteen. I can only hope that I am worthy of you, and not just because your mother and father, let alone Albus, deemed me to be so. And, if I’m not worthy in your eyes now, perhaps one day I can...”

Hermione was shaking her head as soon as Sirius expressed his doubts, and promptly launched herself into his arms, her lips meeting his. “You are more than worthy, Sirius Black. You are everything I want, and have ever wanted. My magic was sworn to you before I even knew about the betrothal, and it was only confirmed by our marriage. You have my heart, as evidenced by my quick acceptance of the circumstances, and now, now all I can offer to you are my body, my life, and soul, and I can only hope that is enough...”

Sirius cupped Hermione’s face in his hands and pressed a passionate kiss to her mouth. “You are everything I have ever wanted, Hermione, everything...”

Hermione wetted her lips then, guiding Sirius’s hands around her waist, as well as tipping her head back, so as her breasts were now exposed to his eyes. “Then, perhaps we should affirm our commitment to one another,” she said softly, coyly, as she smiled up at him, arching into the hard muscles of his body. “I want nothing more than for you to claim me as your own, Sirius Black, as your wife...”

“My wife,” Sirius whispered, leaning down and capturing her lips once more. It was her groan that set him off, and he promptly reached between the two of them, pulling her panties from off around her bum, as she tore forward and yanked his own boxers off. “My, my, my, Mrs. Black. I would never think you would dare have an impatient demeanor...”

Hermione’s eyes glittered. “Well, then, perhaps I need to be taught a lesson in patience, Mr. Black,” she responded.

“Perhaps, but not tonight,” Sirius told her, and Hermione blinked up at him. “Tonight, I shall make love to you.” His eyes turned sad then. “If you came into this marriage looking for a relationship in which punishments are put forth, even in the bedroom, you will find your parents selected the wrong husband for you, Hermione...”

Hermione shook her head, wrapping her arms around Sirius’s neck. “No, of course that’s not what I want,” she assured him. “It was a joke, I assure you.” She lowered her eyes, pressing her forehead to him. “I’m sure such relationships exist out there, and, as long as the people involved in them want such things, I’m not one to judge. However, I don’t want to be involved in such things, and I’m so pleased to know that you don’t either.”

Sirius’s hands splayed along his wife’s back, admiring the paleness and smoothness of the skin he found there. “Typically, I would make the use of Protective Enchantments of some sort, due to your age...”

“But that is not an option for us for the moment, I know,” Hermione assured him, pulling back just enough to gaze up into her husband’s eyes. “I want to have your babies, Sirius Black. I just hope that we can have more than one...”

Sirius’s eyes widened. “You would wish to...?”

“Merlin, yes,” Hermione whispered, giving him a slow smile. “Perhaps not as big a household as the Weasleys, but certainly more than one...”

Sirius smiled. “How many were you thinking, then?” he asked, slowly easing one of his hands around his waist, and offered it to Hermione.

Hermione’s eyes quickly darkened at the implication as she leaned forward, proceeding to wet her husband’s fingers slowly, tantalizingly, with her tongue. “I would certainly be willing to have four at the most,” she said softly, watching avidly as Sirius gently eased his hand back, and lowered it between her legs.

“I would be all right with four,” Sirius responded, gently teasing her folds, already wet with arousal and anticipation, and smirked as Hermione unexpectedly bucked closer to him in his arms, arching herself against him again. “Anything to have a daughter who is as beautiful as you are...”

Hermione moaned as he found her clitoris, and began teasing it oh-so-deliciously with his fingers. “Or a boy who looks just like you,” she whispered back, retaining her grip around his neck. “Gryffindor babies with Ravenclaw and Slytherin tendencies,” she joked.

Sirius chuckled. “I am never going to live down how I treated Severus Snape while we attended Hogwarts, am I?”

Hermione grinned up at him. “Perhaps you can,” she assured him.

Sirius raised his eyebrows. “How?”

“Well, Harry is like a brother to me, and he is your godson,” she said, a gasp escaping her lips as Sirius began the process of lowering his hand. “Which means, by process of elimination...oh, yes, right there...that our dear Professor Snape would be my brother-in-law, and your godson-in-law...”

“The horror,” Sirius said mockingly, flattening his entire hand along Hermione’s walls and folds, and she mewled into his mouth as his lips gently caressed her throat. Pulling back his hand, and giving Hermione a small smile as she let out a plaintive wail, he slicked his erect member with her own juices, and Hermione’s breath caught in her throat.

“Merlin, that’s hot,” she whispered, already breathing heavily.

Sirius gently eased his hand away from his cock, casting a wandless and wordless Cleaning Spell upon his hand, and gently took ahold of Hermione’s hips. “I suppose I don’t have to warn you that there will be some pain...”

Hermione nodded, doing her best to relax, as Sirius considerately eased her backwards to lie against the phoenix-feather-filled bolsters behind her. “No, of course not. I anticipate it will, but I also anticipate you will be as gentle as you can.”

“You anticipate correctly,” Sirius said softly. He gazed down into Hermione’s eyes, knowing that life as they knew it would never be the same again. “Are you ready?” he asked tentatively, vowing then and there never to make Hermione do anything she didn’t want to do, and would strive to keep that vow.

“I’m ready,” Hermione confirmed, unclasping her hands from around Sirius’s neck, and gently placed her hands upon his shoulders. “Go slowly, please.”

“Of course, my love,” Sirius responded, easing his hips forward, and slowly entered his wife, and grimaced when she shut her eyes in a wave of pain. “I’m so sorry, love...”

“It’s just an ache,” she whispered, smoothing her palms onto his shoulders. “I know it has to be done, love. It had to happen eventually. Better that we’re getting this part over with now, so that we have the rest of our lives to have painless love making...”

Sirius caressed Hermione’s side, marveling at how brave she was being, and knew he had made the right decision by accepting Colin and Demeter Granger’s formal request that he marry their daughter. “Hermione,” he whispered, “I love you.”

Hermione’s eyes flew open. “I love you, too,” she whispered back, her tone slightly breathless as she pulled Sirius closer and pressed her mouth to his. Swallowing, she realized that the ache had nearly subsided, and she was more than ready for whatever her husband wanted to give to her. “You can move, you know,” she told him softly, running her fingers down the rippling muscles of his chest. “I won’t shatter like glass, I hope you know that.”

“I do,” Sirius confirmed, easing himself fully into his wife, before he pulled halfway out, and continued in his fashion, shuddering when Hermione let out a delightful moan. “Gods, you’re so beautiful like this,” he breathed.

Hermione smiled slowly up at him. “And you’re the only one who will ever know that,” she said in reply, arching up to meet his lips again.

Sirius felt a wave of possession flowing through him then at the notion that Hermione was truly his, and no one would ever see her like this, spread out before them, with her beautiful eyes looking adoringly up at him, as she was his wife. “Merlin, you’re mine...”

“Just as much as you’re mine,” Hermione told him. “I’ll always be yours, Sirius. I take my vows very seriously, and I couldn’t commit to Ron because my destiny had already been decided, even if I didn’t fully know it yet.”

Sirius caressed Hermione’s cheek, setting a brutal pace with a mere snap of his hips, and his wife mewled from beneath him. “I never thought I would marry, nor love someone like this,” he said softly to her.

“Neither did I,” she whispered back. “I didn’t think I could, when my heart seemingly belonged to someone who was no longer in this world...”

“My heart too belongs to you, Hermione,” Sirius whispered, pushing himself further still inside of her, and Hermione nearly screamed at the force of it. It took Sirius a moment to fully realize that it was from pleasure, not pain, especially when Hermione gripped him all the more tightly, and tears escaped her eyes.

“Merlin, how will I ever manage to get anything done?” she asked, laughing aloud through her tears as she arched closer. “I have to prepare for my NEWTs, and decide what I must do once I graduate from Hogwarts...”

“If we manage to conceive a baby, which I dearly hope we will,” Sirius said softly, “the Ministry of Magic will provide you with maternity leave. Then, once the child is three months old or so, you can go there and work at any vocation you like, my love. I will gladly be at home and raise the children, if you truly want a career...”

Hermione considered that for a moment, a pang of sadness entering her subconscious then as she fully considered leaving Sirius to his own devices with their future children. She trusted him, naturally, but she also wanted to be a complete family, desperately, and didn’t want to miss anything coming up developmental-wise with their babies...

“Have I said something to upset you?” Sirius asked, stilling his hips.

Hermione shuddered at the loss of the pleasurable sensations that were a driving force behind Sirius’s hip movements, and took ahold of them herself, leaving her husband to chuckle above her at her desperation to complete the consummation of their union. “Not saying, rather than doing,” she said with a smirk, before returning to the topic at hand. “Perhaps we can figure out a way in which I can complete everything from home...”

Sirius smiled down at her. “All I wish for is to see you happy, my dearest love,” he told her, and placed his hands upon her hips, before rolling them over, so as Hermione was now the one on top and, thus, in control. “Perhaps you would like to set the pace, my darling.”

Hermione felt her cheeks flushing, and her eyes darkening. “It would be my pleasure,” she told him, placing her hands, palm down, onto the mattress. She used this as leverage, pumping Sirius in and out from inside of her, and Sirius’s eyes snapped closed, a growl escaping from betwixt his lips as she sped up in her movements.

“Merlin, Hermione...”

“Circe,” Hermione whispered back, continuing in this fashion, her eyes rolling backwards up into her head as Sirius brushed something inside her. She saw sparks from behind her eyes, and felt Sirius stiffen from inside her, knowing that the both of them were close.

Sirius suddenly flipped them around again, pounding Hermione into the mattress, their moans and groans suddenly escalating into screams as they went faster and faster. “Are you close?” he whispered to her then.

Hermione nodded, gripping as tightly to Sirius as she dared. “I am...”

Sirius reached down between them then, massaging her clitoris as quickly as he dared, and, then, there seemed to be a white light which overtook both their visions. Their screams of pleasure and ecstasy co-mingled then, and Sirius made quick work of expelling his semen inside his wife, his fingers mentally crossing themselves that it had worked, and that she could be pregnant. Easing himself off of her and rolling onto the side, he promptly opened his arms to her, and Hermione burrowed into them.

“Circe,” Hermione whispered, her entire body trembling as Sirius held her close. “Bloody Circe, love, that was...”

“Fantastic,” Sirius told her, “as if our souls were firmly joining.”

Hermione traced through the light dusting of hair upon her husband’s chest, leaning down and brushing her lips against one of his nipples. “I never knew it could be that way...”

“Neither could I,” Sirius replied, gently tracing complicated patterns into her shoulder and arm with his fingertips. He pressed a kiss to her temple. “The notion that I never have to give you up is a welcoming one...”

“Is it?” Hermione asked with a small smile.

Sirius turned his face so that he could meet Hermione’s eyes. “Of course it is. The fact remains that I am a rather passionate, yet jealous and possessive individual at heart. The notion of any man other than myself taking you into his bed is...” He shook his head in an attempt to clear it. “You’re mine.”

“I am,” Hermione confirmed, pushing herself upwards ever so slightly, so that she could meet his lips. “And I’ll always be so.”

“The fact is mutual,” Sirius responded, holding his wife closer, as the pair of them slowly drifted off to sleep.

~*~

It was still raining when Hermione awoke next, and she found that the sky was a shade of dark gray, leading her to believe that it was evening. Turning, she found her husband still fast asleep, and carefully eased herself out of his arms. She cast a thorough Cleaning Charm upon herself, and found a peach-colored silk robe, hanging beside a sky-blue one, on the back of the bathroom door. Draping it around herself, she slipped into a pair of pale brown mink fur slippers, a gift from Bill and Fleur for their wedding, and left the bedroom.

Heading down the grand staircase and into the kitchen, Hermione proceeded to familiarize herself with the various gadgets within the space, ever-thankful to Molly Weasley, who had told her all about a wizarding kitchen, so that she would always know how to work things. Looking into the cooling cupboard, she saw various forms of meat, and a smile came onto her lips as she considered what to do with it. She easily found pasta as well, and selected ground beef, ground pork, and ground turkey from the cabinet, as well as a brick of delicious-looking parmesan cheese. Going through the pantry that the pasta was in, she found breadcrumbs, and then went to the door leading out into the garden.

Accio parsley,” she called, and three generous springs of the aforementioned herb came flying promptly into her hand. “Accio tomatoes, accio garlic, accio basil.” Once the four requested ingredients came flying into the house, she set to work washing and cutting them into the proper shapes needed for the meal she was intending upon making. Putting the pasta into the pot was simple enough, and then she blended the tomatoes into a paste, before setting them into a cast iron skillet, along with the basil and garlic.

She next prepared the meatballs, mixing the trio of meats together, and adding the parsley, the parmesan and the rest of the garlic, and some salt and pepper to the concoction. She found a second skillet, once the meatballs were formed, and fried them up in a generous helping of olive oil. Next, she transferred the meatballs to a baking dish, and shoved them into the oven. Turning the sauce to simmer, she located the wine cellar, finding a bottle of Chianti from Tuscany, a painting of a beautiful woman upon the label of the bottle. Taking it upstairs, she slowly added some to the sauce, which bubbled merrily at the addition, and making the kitchen smell all the more delicious.

The pasta was finished shortly thereafter, and she removed quickly the meatballs from the oven once they had completed their cooking as well. She summoned linens, china, silver, and golden candlesticks with red candles inside them onto the small round table in the kitchen, knowing that the grand dining room would likely only be used for lavish dinner parties or other special occasions. She then mixed together a Caesar salad to accompany the spaghetti and meatballs, and popped a blackberry pie into the oven shortly thereafter. As it was a magical oven, it would know when said item was done, if no one was around to keep an eye upon it, and would extract the food from within itself.

Casting another Cleaning Charm upon her person, so that she wouldn’t reek of oil and garlic for the rest of the evening, Hermione summoned a beautiful black dress to wear that evening. Her breath caught in her throat then when, after changing and placing the food upon the table, as well as lighting the candles, her husband stepped into the room. Swallowing, she took careful note of the simple deep blue robes he wore, and felt her face flush at the memory of what the pair of them had done earlier that day.

“Good evening, Sirius,” she whispered, clasping her hands together nervously, hoping that their first dinner as husband and wife would be satisfactory to him.

“Good evening, Hermione,” Sirius replied, stepping forward, and placing a loving kiss onto her lips. “It smells and looks delicious, love. How did you know that spaghetti and meatballs was one of my favorite meals?”

Hermione smiled, the tension out of the air. “Lucky guess, plus we had everything we needed for it right at my fingertips.” She let out a small gasp as Sirius pulled her chair out for her, and eased her into it. “Thank you...”

“Of course,” he replied, kissing her on the cheek, before moving around the table and sitting himself down. “It’s only fair that, since you made such a beautiful dinner, that I serve you tonight, my love.”

“You don’t mind?” she asked, putting her serviette into her lap and looking over at him. “I wouldn’t mind...”

“Nonsense,” Sirius told her gently, putting a serving of salad into each of their bowls, and a generous helping of spaghetti and meatballs onto their plates. “This marriage is to be an equal partnership, Hermione. I want there to be no question about who is in charge here, as it is both of us, as we are adults.”

Hermione flushed becomingly and lowered her eyes. “Thank you,” she said softly, “but you really make it sound like a business arrangement...”

“While many marriages, especially ones which were orchestrated during the first Pureblood Regime, were seen as such, this one, I can assure you, is not,” Sirius told her gently, filling their glasses with more Chianti. “I apologize if I made it seem like one,” he continued, and Hermione raised her eyes to his. “I love you, Hermione.”

“I love you, too, Sirius,” she responded, taking the glass on offer and raised it, mimicking his movements, smiling at him.

“To us,” Sirius said softly, almost reverently.

“To us,” Hermione responded. She took a small sip, watching avidly as Sirius lowered it, and then the pair of them started on the salad course.

“This is delicious, love. Not too heavy, or too fishy...”

Hermione grinned. “You know me well.”

“I like to think I do, especially now that I’m your husband,” he responded. They made small talk as they finished their salads, before the bowls and salad forks were banished into the kitchen to wash themselves. “I didn’t have this meal until I went to Hogwarts for the first time,” he admitted, once they were about to begin the main course.

Hermione blinked, knowing just how traditional the House of Black proved to be. “A bit too Muggle for the tastes of Orion and Walburga?” she guessed.

Sirius nodded. “Yes. Albus was always more tolerant of such things, given his penchant for those little knick knacks in his office,” he said fondly. “Regulus and I tried a great many foods for the first time once our education began.”

“So, no steak and kidney pie, then, or fish and chips?”

Sirius grinned, cutting into a meatball. “Not at Grimmauld, no. The only thing we seemed to have in common with the rest of Britain was that every Sunday, without fail, we would have a lavish roast with all the fixings.”

“We did roasts,” Hermione confirmed. “It was one of the first things I learned how to make by myself. Mum always loved teaching me to cook, and it was one of our favorite things to do together.”

“They seem...quite dedicated to their practice...”

“And they are,” Hermione told him, “but never mistake dedication for their careers as neglect for parenting. They were very devoted, especially when it was revealed that Mum and Dad would only have me for a child.”

“Did they want further children?”

“They certainly discussed it, but when it was only me, they never made me feel less-than, nor did they overtly spoil me with material possessions. I mostly wanted books, and they were more than happy to indulge me in that.” Hermione lowered her eyes to her plate, and began fully eating in earnest then. “Other than roasts, what would you eat?”

“Roast chicken, chateaubriand, racks of lamb, pork roasts, steaks, lobster, swordfish, tuna, caviar, prawns... One positive thing about my mother and father is that they ensured that we never went hungry. Even though I proved to be a disappointment to them, and was thrown out when I was sixteen, I never went hungry on their watch...”

“You went to Fleamont and Euphemia Potter’s home, isn’t that right?”

Sirius smiled fondly. “I did. I was always welcome at the Potters.”

Hermione nibbled on her bottom lip. “Harry and I have one thing in common—we didn’t have friends until we entered Hogwarts...”

Sirius blinked. “Harry never mentioned that...”

She shook her head. “He doesn’t know. No one does, not even Ron. I kept it hidden from Mum and Dad, but I suspect they knew. I was seen as strange growing up, and poor Harry was branded a freak. It just wasn’t an environment suited to witches and wizards, unfortunately...”

“But now, you’ve many friends...”

Hermione nodded. “I do. It was a sign of divine intervention that I got my Hogwarts letter. It was a relief to know I wasn’t as alone in the world as I thought.”

Sirius smiled, reaching out and taking Hermione’s hand. “I can assure you, my love, that you will never feel alone in the world again.”

Hermione returned her husband’s smile. “And I am grateful for it.”

They finished their dinner, and their pudding, which were both rousing successes in Sirius’s mind, and Hermione couldn’t have been happier. Even though Sirius had told her that their marriage was an equal partnership, she still wanted to make him meals and give him many children, and found that she had no qualms about that. Perhaps it was being around her own mother, a career woman, and Molly Weasley; both women were committed to their families, although they went about it in different ways, ways which proved refreshing.

“Selfishly, I am glad you are back in all our lives,” Hermione remarked, once the dishes had been cleared and were washing themselves in the kitchen proper. “I never envisioned a life like this for myself—wife, hopeful mother... After Ron, well...” She pursed her lips. “He was broken up about me taking up with Viktor our fourth-year, just as I was when he began seeing Lavender last year. Naturally, we believed the logical reasoning behind it was that we needed to be together as a couple, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth, because I was already sworn to another, even though I didn’t know it yet...”

Sirius traced at the white linen tablecloth, deep in thought. “When everything happened at the Department of Mysteries, in the Death Chamber, all I wanted was to keep you all safe. Then, when Bellatrix said the words of the Killing Curse, and I fell through the veil...”

“How did you survive, truly?” she whispered, letting a gasp escape her lips as she was lifted from her own chair, and drawn into her husband’s lap. “I realize that the veil acted as a Stasis Charm, so that you didn’t age, but surviving the Killing Curse...” She shook her head, and wrapped her arms around her husband’s neck. “Harry is the only one within the Wizarding World who has been able to do so...”

“The House of Black has a family crest,” Sirius explained, “one that must be worn beneath our clothing at all times, which is equipped with healing magic, and blockers. Since the family has been dark over the generations, it was considered beneficial for any heirs of the family to have this form of protection, given that there were people out there who wanted us dead, to eradicate the family line, potentially steal our fortunes and property, or to simply stop people from believing what they wanted to believe...”

Hermione shook her head. “How cruel. I may not agree with what many of the families in the Sacred Twenty-Eight believe, but that doesn’t diminish their right to believe such things. Surely, I believed the Wizarding World was better than that, but it seems as if I was mistaken...”

“Not all the old families believe such things, love,” Sirius told her gently.

“Where is the crest now?” Hermione asked. “Did Bellatrix destroy it?”

“Physically, yes,” Sirius said with a small nod. “However, since it is wrought from goblin magic, they must be the ones to heal it, so to speak. Even attempting to do so yourself is a sign of utmost disrespect to them.”

“So, the goblins are fixing it, then?”

Sirius opened his mouth to reply, when a black box appeared upon the table before the pair of them with a shimmer. Keeping one of his arms wrapped around Hermione’s waist, Sirius reached forward and opened the box. Smiling at what was within, it was what appeared to be a badge on one side, with a locket on the other. Reaching in, he pinned the badge on the undershirt of his robes, so that it was touching his skin, and reached for the locket next. Both pieces had swirled letters in an ancient-looking script wrapped around the other, so HoB appeared to be staring back at them.

“Know what these are?”

“The family crest of the House of Black?” Hermione guessed.

Sirius smiled. “Very good, and it is also my wedding gift to you,” he said, gently putting the locket, which, upon closer examination, was studded with black pearls, around her neck, which seemed to warm as it was placed over her heart. “It doubles as an amulet of protection, as mine does, and cannot, nor should it be, be taken off.”

Hermione fingered the pendant, which hummed with complex and ancient magic, seemingly accepting its new placement. “It will protect me in battle?”

“Precisely, and it also protects anything you carry,” Sirius told her, and touched her belly, hoping that their child could potentially be slumbering within.

“Our children?” Hermione whispered, touching Sirius’s hands from where they were clasped along her stomach.

Sirius nodded. “Yes. My mother was the last Lady of the House of Black to wear it, and it kept both me and Regulus protected when she was pregnant with us.”

“Will our children have crests to wear as well?”

“They will,” Sirius assured her. “The last thing we would want is any evil potentially lurking around every corner to endanger our children.”

Hermione reached out then, and promptly buried her face into Sirius’s shoulder, while her arms clasped themselves firmly around his neck. Even though it hadn’t been spoken aloud between them, it was the implication of the continuation of the war which frightened her the most. Their children, for their name alone, would be in danger, and Hermione knew she would never live it down if one of their future children died as a result of everything happening around them.

“The war is still raging, isn’t it, Sirius?” she whispered, her tone muffled. Even though she knew it to be true, she had to hear it from her husband, because, as a member of the Order, he would certainly know more about it than she would at this point.

“I’m afraid so,” Sirius responded, clasping her tightly against him. “The only thing we can do now is wait, and protect each other when the time comes.”

Hermione slowly eased herself backwards, her eyes locking with her husband’s. “I really thought that, once Harry killed him, that the prophecy would be fulfilled, and that all of this madness would be over...”

Sirius smiled slowly. “We all did, love,” he said, his eyes riddled with sadness as he stared up at her. “We all did.”

Notes:

(1) John William Waterhouse is my favorite oil painter, and I myself have copies of The Lady of Shallot and Miranda-The Tempest.
(2) The spaghetti and meatballs recipe is mostly my mother's. Her Italian grandmother said that basil, salt, pepper, and garlic were all you needed for a tomato sauce, but I think some form of wine was used, too. This is the kind Hermione uses: https://www.totalwine.com/wine/red-wine/sangiovese/montemaggio-chianti-class-rsv/p/93154750?glia=true&s=1405&&pid=cpc:Core+Catalog+-+Shopping%2BUS%2BWASH%2BENG%2BSPART::google::&gclid=Cj0KCQjwmcWDBhCOARIsALgJ2QdUZF-xvdH99kTo4CTtUb82xKQobP77DbBSeMbZmgLoxgCkfNStJioaAqJxEALw_wcB&gclsrc=aw.ds

Chapter 5: The Storm Rages On

Notes:

1 - So sorry for the delay - this chapter turned into a bit of a monster, so I hope it was worth it.

2 - Hermione’s parents’ Christmas gifts aren’t mentioned directly as she is specifically ordering from shops in Diagon Alley, and likely wouldn't order them anything magical.

Chapter Text

While Sirius made friends with the various farm hands under their employ, Hermione utilized their joint-study to pour over Owl Order magazines for Christmas gifts. The study had easily become one of Hermione’s favorite places in the house, largely due to the fact that she could revise for exams in there without Sirius interrupting her. It was a beautiful room, with tasteful floral wallpaper, cherry wood furniture, and two desks pushed opposite one another. The floor was dotted with more Parisian carpets, with a simple chandelier hanging from the center of the beam-exposed ceiling. The walls were taken up by impressive cherry wood bookshelves, which were carved periodically with the Black family crest. However, some of the spaces upon the shelves themselves were covered in various photographs and antiques that both Sirius and Hermione had selected from the Black family vault at Gringotts.

Hermione rolled her shoulders, knowing entirely well that she was cutting her shopping schedule for the upcoming holidays just a bit fine. Typically, she would have had the selection process done by the start-of-term, and the shopping completed by Halloween, but this year had been different. Combined with constantly revising for her NEWTs, the half-term exams, and planning her wedding to Sirius, shopping had somehow slipped her mind completely. Determined to revise that fact, and make use of the beautiful tawny owl that Sirius had presented her with, she had set to work.

Looking up, Hermione smiled automatically at the great black eyes of Iris, her silver plumage gleaming in the winter sunlight of the window behind her. “It’s not too cold today,” she cooed up at her, and Iris hooted softly at her. “You haven’t been to Diagon since Sirius purchased you from Eeylops. Perhaps a return trip will do you good.”

Iris ruffled her feathers, eyes crinkling, almost as if she was excited for the prospect of potentially seeing some of her old friends.

Hermione pursed her lips; although she adored Iris already, and the owl and Crookshanks had certainly hit it off, she wondered if the owl herself was lonely. Pursing her lips, she scoured the magazines, until she came across an informational ad for Eeylops. Knowing she would be purchasing plenty of treats for Iris for the upcoming holiday season, her breath caught at the magical photograph of what was described as a black-banded owl. In the past, Hermione hadn’t seen such a creature advertised at the owl emporium, and she smiled to herself, lifting the magazine upwards to show it to Iris.

“He’s handsome, isn’t he?”

Iris let out a mournful hoot, her black eyes taking on a sad look.

Hermione lowered the magazine, shocked at the demonstrative behavior. “You know him, don’t you, Iris?” she asked.

Iris lowered her eyes, hooting softly, her entire body seeming to curl inwards on itself, as she fully demonstrated devastation to her keeper.

“That settles that, then,” Hermione said, adding a purchase of that specific owl to her list, hoping that no one else had wanted him previously.

Other items on the list featured a male-pregnancy book for Harry, plus a Quidditch mobile; a rare potion collection and book from the apothecary for Severus; the latest broom maintenance kit for Ron; books on knitting for Tonks, as she’d expressed an interest; a Muggle book on worldwide Christmas celebrations for Mr. Weasley; an assortment of alpaca yarn for Mrs. Weasley; a vacation to a villa in France in close proximity to Fleur’s family for Bill and Fleur, who were celebrating their sixth-month wedding anniversary in February; the latest book on dragon training with new techniques for Charlie; a book on the latest courtship guidelines for Percy, who was working up the nerve to propose to his girlfriend, Audrey; cookbooks for Fred and George that wouldn’t involve them blowing up their tiny flat; the latest soap, hair tonic, brush and comb set for Puffeskins for Ginny; some sketching parchment and colored charcoal for Draco; a pair of Oxfords for Neville that he had had his eye on; a new text on Care of Magical Creatures for Luna; a variety of teas for Mr. Lovegood; some multi-colored socks for Headmaster Dumbledore; a new set of quills of various birds for Professor McGonagall; a hodgepodge of rare root vegetables for Hagrid; and a wizarding plush dog toy for Fang, which would be spelled Impermeable so as to prevent him from chewing on it, as well as the capability to walk, bark and lick, which, according to the ad, was beneficial for positive interaction.

Smiling to herself, Hermione added a final item to her list. Along with some nursery decorations and baby clothes, although it was far too soon to tell if she as truly expecting, Hermione wanted to give something special to Sirius for Christmas. Although he would likely take up ownership of the new owl, she was really getting him for Iris more than anything else. The nib of her quill scratched at the parchment; this gift could also count as something for Crookshanks as well, even though he would be spoiled rotten the day of, as Hermione had decided he was now going to wear a proper collar.

“Think it’s a good idea?” Hermione asked, holding up another section of the magazine then, and stared at Iris, waiting for an avian reply.

Iris hooted, which was reassuring.

“Good,” Hermione said, authorizing the parchment with her signature, as well as her Gringotts vault information. As soon as they had married, Hermione’s vault had merged with Sirius’s, and she had been told she could use it for anything and everything she wanted. She had gone to the closest town nearby, via Apparition and the use of Polyjuice, and had purchased wrapping paper, bows, tape, and a new pair of scissors for the wrapping process. Getting to her feet and shrinking the letter, Hermione summoned some twine and tied it gently to Iris’s leg. “You be careful out there, you hear me?” she said gently.

Iris hooted in agreement.

Hermione patted the owl and smiled at her, before she crossed over to the window, while Iris fluttered her wings, obviously eager to begin her journey. “No need to rush—we’ve got days yet,” she encouraged her, and swung open the window, smiling to herself as Iris swooped closer and landed on her arm. “Just have fun.”

Iris hooted once more before taking off, flying into the white sky streaked with sunlight.

Hermione stood and watched her for a moment, smiling to herself.

“Hermione?”

Quickly, Hermione yanked the window shut and vanished the Owl Order magazines, and managed to spell off any offending ink from her fingers. Turning around, she hastily put the ink pot and quills to rights, before she plastered a grin onto her face, heart hammering in her chest as her husband came into view.

“There you are,” the man said warmly, crossing the room and kissing her deeply. “Everything all right, love?”

Hermione nodded. “Yes. Just sent a reply to Harry; he really wants to bring Severus over to see the cottage,” she said softly.

Sirius rolled his eyes. “I shall attempt to behave myself,” he muttered.

Hermione grinned, pushing herself more deeply into her arms. “The last thing anyone would want to see is me bringing you to heel in front of the Head of Slytherin...”

Sirius’s fingertips gently grazed the small of Hermione’s back. “Iris out?”

“A hunt, I think,” Hermione replied, not wanting to give away the surprise, although the end-of-month statement from Gringotts would certainly tell Sirius what was really going on. “How were the workers?”

“Lovely, all of them,” Sirius assured her, his fingers continuing to move lower. “They keep asking me where my lovely wife is, and I told them you were quite busy studying...”

Hermione laughed, gently swatting his shoulder. “I hope you told them that I was properly eighteen and you’re not committing a crime here...”

“They know,” Sirius assured her. “Although some of their wives have already asked you ‘round for tea. Naturally, I thanked the men, but said that it was ultimately your decision. Thankfully,” he went on, gently moving to cup her backside, “you were raised by Muggles, so you would at least know how to act properly, and have things to discuss with them.”

Hermione wetted her lips, attempting to keep control of herself, although her insides swam with desire as Sirius continued caressing her in this vein. “I shall get back to them forthwith. They cannot be all bad...”

“No,” Sirius responded, “they can’t be.”

Hermione’s breath entered her throat as Sirius caressed one of her buttocks before moving it around, and touching her gently between her legs. “Merlin,” she whispered. “What are you doing to me?”

“I find that I missed you today,” he said softly, his eyes never leaving hers. “Despite that rather wonderful way to wake up,” he went on, and Hermione’s cheeks flushed at her brazen behavior, despite the fact that her husband clearly enjoyed it, “I find that I want to show you how much I love you.”

Hermione lowered her eyes then. “You don’t owe me a thing, Sirius...”

Sirius’s hand moved away from between her legs, and gently tilted her chin up. “This is not about owing anyone anything, Hermione,” he told her softly. “This is about me loving you, and wanting to show you how much. If you don’t want to, then of course we’ll do something else. However, if you do want to...”

Hermione launched herself towards him then, molding her mouth to his, her heart hammering in her ears as his mouth quickly opened beneath hers, and she daringly slashed her tongue out, meeting his in the battle that was always performed. She took great delight in Sirius’s hands upon her, and she put slight pressure upon his shoulders in order to wrap her legs around his waist, pulling him lengthwise against her. As he moved to back out of the room, however, she gently pulled back, staring at him with lust-filled eyes.

“Sweep the desk of everything,” she whispered.

Sirius blinked. “What?”

“Sweep it off, like you’ve not got a care in the world,” she told him. “I want you to have me upon the surface of your desk, Sirius...”

Sirius raised his eyebrows. “Do you?”

Letting herself down from his grip, Hermione effortlessly transfigured her sweater, skirt, and stockings into her Hogwarts robes, although her blouse was unbuttoned just enough to expose the swell of her breasts. “I find I’ve been so terribly naughty, professor,” she said, and Sirius’s eyes darkened with desire. “I need a proper detention... Perhaps you should hold me down upon your desk and teach me a lesson...”

Sirius strode across the room then, his hand slashing through the air, which sent everything off from the surface of his desk and onto the floor. Next, he yanked Hermione’s school robe off from her shoulders, and pinned her down upon the desk, holding her wrists above her head. “Do you know what you’re asking of me, Miss Granger?” he asked, and Hermione shivered at the sensation of the forbidden nature of what they were doing.

“Yes,” she whispered back, “I do.”

Sirius growled low in his throat then, before shredding her stockings and watching heatedly as Hermione, with a mere raise of her eyebrows, unbuckled his belt and unzipped his trousers. “I will never be able to convey to you how hot that is,” he whispered.

Hermione grinned up at him. “Perhaps you could show me,” she replied.

Sirius managed to maneuver himself out of his trousers, while all the while encouraging Hermione to wrap her legs around his waist. “Are you ready?” he whispered.

“Please,” Hermione moaned, “please, I need you...”

Sirius slammed into Hermione then without ceremony, and Hermione cried out in ecstasy, her eyes simultaneously rolling backwards into her head, and her toes immediately curling from behind Sirius’s back. “Merlin...” Sirius groaned.

“Fuck,” Hermione said, and Sirius promptly stiffened inside his wife as the expletive fell from her lips.

“Gods,” Sirius said in response, pumping his hips at a brutal pace, while all the while Hermione egged him on.

“I’ve been so naughty, professor,” she cried, trembling beneath him. “You’ll have to take points from Gryffindor for sure!”

“You’re earning them back,” Sirius managed to say through his teeth.

“Deeper...harder...faster,” Hermione said, each word a prayer, as she attempted to move with him as much as possible. “Please, sir, please...”

Sirius continued, knowing that he was close and, as evidenced by Hermione’s behavior beneath him, so was she. “Are you close?” he grunted.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes...”

Sirius quickened his thrusts and, quite soon, both of them were shouting their completion, and he lowered his eyes as Hermione trembled from the aftershocks of their lovemaking. He released her wrists and gently pulled her upwards, and she promptly wrapped her arms around him, shuddering in his ear. “Are you all right?” he whispered.

“I am,” she assured him, and pulled back, face slightly flushed. “That was amazing,” she said, and Sirius noted that she was still shaking.

He gently rubbed his hands up and down her arms. “Cold?”

“Just intense,” she told him, biting her lip.

“Hermione?” Sirius pressed, knowing that she was holding something back.

She looked up at him then, and her brown eyes were shining with joy. “All the books Madam Pomfrey gave me about pregnancy and childbirth had an overlapping theme to them...”

“Which was?”

“Anyone, witch or wizard, that becomes pregnant will be able to feel it intuitively,” she said softly to him. “Muggles call it a quickening, when they can feel the child inside the womb. It is similar to that, but it can be felt immediately after fertilization, so to speak.”

Sirius stared down at his wife, awestruck. “What are you saying?” he whispered.

“I’m saying that the books were correct, and that we’ve done it,” she said brightly, wrapping her arms around his waist and grinning up at him. “I’m pregnant.”

~*~

Hermione stirred the pot of soup that she was cooking on the stove; it was now Christmas Eve, and she was delighted because she and Sirius were hosting a dinner party for those that were closest to them. The cream of tomato soup was thick and smelled wonderful, and would be paired with fresh, crusty bread for the first course; the second course was to be a green salad with lemon vinaigrette dressing; for the main course, a lovely traditional roast paired with boiled potatoes and roasted vegetables; for pudding, a plum pie with ice cream.

While Sirius flitted about the house, making sure that the decorations were just perfect—with the massive evergreen in the main parlor, plus the boughs of holly along the staircases and other pieces of furniture, as well as various baubles (bought from the local village and brought from the Black family vault)—Hermione was in the kitchen, humming to herself, her hand stroking her stomach. She was unsure if the pair of them should reveal her pregnancy that night, although she was quite positive Headmaster Dumbledore would easily figure it out, due to his enthusiasm surrounding his invitation. Along with the headmaster, Harry and Professor Snape had confirmed, along with Ron and Tonks; Ginny and Draco, Neville and Luna, plus Mr. and Mrs. Weasley would be coming along that evening as well. With Bill and Fleur in France for their first Christmas as a married couple, Charlie working through the holiday in Romania, Percy whisking Audrey away to potentially propose, and Fred and George invited to the Spinnet and Johnson homes respectively, the Weasley parents were more than happy to come to Hermione and Sirius’s Christmas celebration.

Wistfully, Hermione continued stirring the soup; her parents had gone to New Zealand for a dental conference, and wouldn’t be back until after the start-of-term. However, they had invited Hermione and Sirius to their seaside residence in the Lake District for Easter. Hermione and Sirius had enthusiastically accepted, provided that the goblins at Gringotts could arrange for curse-breakers to go to the property beforehand to install new wards. Colin and Demeter had readily accepted, not wanting anything to happen to their daughter and new son-in-law. By that time, of course, Hermione would be showing, so, naturally, anyone would be able to get the information back to the Death Eater stragglers that she was well and truly pregnant.

Hermione placed a Stasis Charm upon the soup before moving to wash and chop up the greens for the salad, wanting to ensure that nothing untoward had crept in there from the time she had harvested them from the garden. Humming to herself, she washed them and shook them, relieved to know that nothing was hiding in there, and placed them in the serving bowl. She mixed up the dressing and tasted it, nodding in approval before setting it aside, not wanting to serve soggy leaves to her guests.

“How are you doing, love?” Sirius asked, coming into the kitchen behind her, just as he was tucking his wand into the sleeve of his new dress shirt. “Not working too hard?”

“Oh, hush, you,” Hermione replied indulgently, letting out a small giggle as he pulled her into his arms, from behind, pressing a kiss to her neck as he cupped her belly. “No one’s arrived yet, have they?”

“No, love, but we’ve a quarter of an hour before the arrival time yet,” he told her patiently. “I think we’ll be in plenty of time.”

Hermione hummed absentmindedly within her husband’s embrace. “I’m just glad all their gifts managed to arrive in time,” she mused. “Wouldn’t want them to show up, only to have their hosts be empty-handed...”

“We are providing them with good hospitality, which includes food and drink,” Sirius told her, mock-indignantly, and pulled her closer to him. “They should be only too glad to sample some of your food... Have they?” he asked, suddenly curious.

Hermione wetted her lips. “That summer when we were all at Grimmauld, when you had many order meetings,” she said quietly, “we would sneak downstairs long after bed, and I’d whip us up midnight snacks. Mostly sandwiches, and I’d grill them if we were especially daring,” she said with a grin, looking over her shoulder at her husband.

Sirius grinned down at her. “Thank Merlin you’ve got a mischievous side, my love,” he said, and pressed his lips to hers. “Last thing I’d want is a completely straight-laced wife.”

Hermione pulled herself away from him then, crossing her arms and staring at him openly, her eyebrows raised near clear to her forehead. “Need I remind you that our first child was conceived on a desk, during a game of roleplay?” she asked him pointedly.

Sirius grinned, his eyes darkening with desire at the memory. “No, you need not remind me,” he said, and walked steadily towards her, watching as she grinned up at him, and pulled her against him, Hermione cupping his cheeks as he lowered his head, kissing her deeply. The sensation of having her so close was a heady one, and he yanked himself away before he had her against the wall of the kitchen.

“Why did you stop?” Hermione whispered, somehow managing to speak through her gasps, and was pleased to see Sirius equally affected by her kiss.

“Because,” he said simply, reaching out and caressing her face, “we’re to have company shortly, and I wouldn’t have the adequate opportunity to satisfy you until you’re a crumbling mess, all but begging for me to get in you.”

“Pot, kettle, love,” Hermione said, smirking at him. “Although it’s my oral orifice that you seem to always want upon you,” she said with a grin.

Sirius growled affectionately, before he lifted his nose into the air, humming with approval as he returned his gaze onto his wife. “Smells delicious, as always.”

Hermione flushed becomingly, tugging ever so slightly at her frilly apron; her mother and father had gotten her a few as wedding gifts, while she had gone into the local village and had sprung for a few holiday-themed ones. “Well, I’m pleased to know it meets with your approval smell-wise,” she said, smiling up at her husband.

“Anything I need to do?” he asked, always eager to help.

Hermione smiled, enjoying the fact that Sirius fussed over her, but never took it too out of proportion, like she had heard other husbands doing. “Well, you’ll be helping bring the dishes to the table, and lifting the roast from the oven, as well as carving it,” she said quietly. “I set out the formal linens, china, and silver onto the table, along with the silver candlesticks. Of course, this is only the Christmas Eve meal, so the more formal affair, with corresponding dishes and whatnot, will be reserved for tomorrow...”

Sirius stepped forward and pressed a gentle kiss onto Hermione’s temple. “I had the table set appropriately before I came in to check on you,” he assured her. “There’s also the sherry and the red wine, for those who want it, pumpkin juice for Harry, butterbeer, Firewhiskey, and the Gillywater as per your request... Was there anything else?”

“Not for tonight, no,” Hermione confirmed.

Sirius nodded. “And for tomorrow?”

“I’ve already begun the plum pudding for tomorrow, and it’s stowed away in the cooling cupboard,” she informed him, fully aware that Sirius was very passionate about his love for Christmas pudding, and had done her best with it; she had made gingerbread as well, for Christmas could never have enough sweets. “The turkey is currently brining, and the cranberry sauce is put away appropriately, all prepared. The bread dough will rise overnight, and I’ve excavated enough potatoes from the yard to mash, along with the asparagus and green beans, and I bought the butternut squash from the village to make that soup to serve at the beginning. As for breakfast, we have the croissants and the cranberry rolls from the village, and the hens have provided us with plenty of eggs, and I went down to the butcher for sausages and rashers, as per your request for meat in the morning, and I’ve an assortment of fruits to go along with it, as well as fruit juice and Gillywater... Was there anything else you wanted?” she asked softly.

Sirius stepped forward then and pulled Hermione gently into his arms, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Only to tell you that you’re wonderful, and I love you. And to please ask me if, at any time, you need me to help you with something, anything at all. I told you this marriage would be an equal partnership, Hermione, and I meant it.”

Hermione grinned up at him. “Trust me, when I’m further along into my pregnancy, and complaining about being the size of a massive Dirigible Plum, as well as from the pain of swollen ankles and an achy back, you’ll have your work cut out for you. I heard my mother had particularly odd cravings, so we’re quite lucky to live in the magical world.”

Sirius raised his eyebrows. “And calling on a house-elf is allowed, then?”

Hermione laughed aloud. “As long as the house-elf in particular is Dobby, then I certainly have no problem with you seeking him out,” she assured him. “Harry wrote me, and told me that he’s now under his and Professor Snape’s employ. They’re paying him generously, so, perhaps, if one came along...”

Sirius looked stunned. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that, if a house-elf loves to work, and we weren’t treating him or her like a slave, and paid them well, then I may consider having one in our lives,” Hermione told him. “I mean, I don’t know all there is to know about raising babies—yet—but I do know how much of a natural caregiver the species is reported to be...”

“Perhaps we may acquire Winky,” Sirius said fondly, and Hermione smiled at him. “I hear she misses Dobby very much, and would rather serve a proper family than continue her work in the Hogwarts kitchens...”

“We’ll speak about it with the headmaster tonight, then,” Hermione responded diplomatically, as the Floo flared in the next room. “Oh! They’re arriving,” she said, breaking away from Sirius. “I will continue in here, and you go ahead and greet them.”

“All right, love,” Sirius responded, pressing a kiss to Hermione’s forehead before he slipped out to greet the first of their guests.

Hermione turned back to the meal, checking that the soup was secure beneath the Stasis Charm, and removed the crusty bread from the miniature bread oven, located just beside the stove. She placed it upon the bread platter and sliced it with a spell, steam wafting up into the air after she had done so. Vaguely hearing the voices of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley in the living room with Sirius, Hermione smiled to herself, re-setting the alarm upon the oven, before automatically dashing her palms briefly upon her apron. Making sure her hair was in place, she stepped out of the kitchen and into the parlor, putting a smile onto her face as she looked at their guests.

“Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley,” she said politely. “Happy Christmas.”

“Oh, Hermione, darling,” said Mrs. Weasley, dashing forward and enveloping her into her arms, and Hermione felt immediately at ease. “Look at you,” the Weasley matriarch continued, pulling back and looking her over. “Wedded bliss looks wonderful on you.”

Hermione flushed becomingly at the compliment. “Thank you, Mrs. Weasley.”

“It’s ‘Molly’, of course, dear,” the woman said firmly, although her brown eyes were kind. “Oh, and I do believe I smell something delicious...”

“Just dinner cooking, Molly,” Hermione said softly, watching as Mr. Weasley handed over a few parcels, which Sirius promptly put underneath the tree. “I’ve been spending all day on it, and it’s been wonderful to use the kitchen.”

“And how’s our Hermione doing?” Mr. Weasley asked, clapping Sirius upon the shoulder as he turned to face the younger woman. “Ah, Molly’s right. You do look wonderful.”

“Thank you, Mr. Weasley,” Hermione responded. “I hope your holidays are going well? You’re getting time off from the ministry, I trust?”

“Until the day after New Year’s,” Mr. Weasley confirmed with a nod. “And please, Hermione dear, call me Arthur.”

The Floo flared from behind the Weasley patriarch then, and Hermione grinned as Draco and Ginny, plus Neville and Luna, all stepped through together.

“Happy Christmas, everyone,” Luna said lyrically, leaning into Neville’s embrace, her pale blue eyes alight.

“Hi, Luna,” Hermione said, approaching her, and giving her a hug, followed by Neville. “Happy Christmas to you both. Are you both well?”

“We are,” Neville confirmed, nodding. “Gran’s settled down this year, likely because it’s our final Christmas before we’re married.”

“Traditionalist, through and through, your gran,” Luna put in.

“But you’re looking forward to it, aren’t you?” Hermione asked.

“Of course,” Neville told her, smiling. “I love Luna, and she loves me, and I’ll work day and night to ensure her happiness.”

“Not that you don’t do so already, darling,” Luna informed him gently, before turning towards the adults within the mixed company around them. “Dad sends his best, but he’s on a deadline for The Quibbler, and was looking forward to an empty house tonight.”

“He’s still expecting me for tea in a few days, is he not?” Sirius asked.

Luna smiled at him. “Of course, Sirius. Dad’s looking forward to it.”

Hermione dashed forward towards Ginny, who broke away from Draco, the latter chuckling to himself, and flew into the redhead’s arms. “Are you doing all right?” she whispered.

“Better than all right,” Ginny whispered back, pulling off her glove—likely knitted by Molly at some point recently—and showing off a beautiful diamond ring. “Draco proposed this morning, all with Mum and Dad’s approval. We’re due to be married next summer.”

Hermione let out a gasp, pulling Ginny back into her arms. “That’s wonderful!”

“You’ll be Maid of Honor, won’t you?” Ginny asked quietly.

“Matron, and yes,” Hermione confirmed, “of course.” She pulled away from Ginny and smiled at Draco, who bent forward and kissed her on the cheek.

“And how is marriage to my dear cousin going so far?” he asked, automatically wrapping his arm around Ginny’s waist, who seemed to purr at the affection, and nuzzled close.

Hermione smiled at the display. “Yes, it’s all lovely,” she confirmed. “Managing my own home has been the most amazing process. Only took a bit of getting used-to, likely because of your mum’s willingness to show me household spells,” she told Ginny.

“Don’t say it too loudly,” Ginny told Hermione with a grin. “It could set her off.”

The Floo flared again, and Ron tumbled out, immediately turning around and holding out his hand for Tonks, who temporarily came crashing through before he swept her up into his arms, a grin upon his face. “Steady on, love,” he said gently.

Tonks’s eyes sparkled. “So glad you’re there to catch me.”

“You’re my wife,” Ron said, mock-affronted, and pressed a kiss onto her lips. “Other than the fact that it is my duty, it is also an honor to do so.”

“Honestly, Ronald,” Hermione scolded lightly, and the pair promptly straightened themselves, and Hermione put a Cleaning Charm upon them. “Leave off the heavy snogging, thank you. I don’t particularly want to be put off my meal.”

Ron grumbled temporarily under his breath, embracing his sister, clasping Draco’s hand before enfolding him into a half-hug, which he also bestowed upon Neville, and kissed Luna warmly on the cheek. Looking around, he kissed Hermione’s cheek as well, greeted his parents properly, and said hello to Sirius. “Where’s Harry, then?” he asked, looking around.

“Harry and Severus were dining with Albus earlier,” Sirius informed the company. “They were instructed not to fill up, but they did mention they’d be arriving together.”

It was at that moment that an elegant plume of smoke erupted from the Floo, and the Headmaster of Hogwarts himself seemed to glide out of the fireplace. He banished the ash and soot from his flamboyant scarlet and silver robes, and smiled at everyone. Stepping away from the fireplace, he turned slightly to watch as Severus came through a moment later, and remained there to catch Harry, who flew into his arms. Looking on indulgently, Severus himself charmed the ashes from his husband’s person, and pressed a loving kiss upon his lips.

“Don’t see you telling them to stop,” Ron muttered, crossing his arms, and Tonks promptly swatted him upon his elbow.

“That’s because they’re sweet,” Hermione said with a huff. “Plus, Professor Snape can still take house points from me until June. And besides,” she said, leaning back into Sirius’s arms, knowing he would need a distraction, “I’m Head Girl. I have a reputation to protect, and that involves relations with staff members, as well as students, at Hogwarts.”

The potions master took that opportunity to stop kissing Harry, and turned to Hermione with a pleasant smirk. “I’d say twenty points to Gryffindor, Miss Granger... Excuse me, Mrs. Black, but I am afraid that school has broken for term,” he said, smiling down at Harry, who burrowed into his side.

“It’s the thought that counts, professor,” Hermione told him.

“While I am in your home, Mrs. Black, I would appreciate it if you would, along with the rest of you, call me ‘Severus’.”

“Of course, Severus,” Hermione replied, “but only if you call me ‘Hermione’.”

“Done,” Severus said, squeezing Harry’s side for a moment before gently pushing him away from him. “As much as I love your willingness to be physical towards me in front of your family, love, I do think the polite thing to do is greet them.”

“Er, right,” Harry said, grinning up at Severus, a lovely blush appearing upon his cheeks. “Sorry about that.” He immediately went to greet Sirius and Hermione first, as they were the hosts, and it was considered customary that he do so. “Sirius,” he said warmly, and his godfather caught him up into an embrace, while Severus greeted Molly and Arthur. “Hermione,” Harry said, the name of one of his best friends tumbling from his mouth next.

“Harry!” Hermione cried, throwing herself into his arms.

“Let the man breathe, ‘Mione,” Ron joked.

Hermione mock-glared at Ron from over Harry’s shoulder, retaining her grip upon him for a moment before easing him away from her, and playfully shoving him at Ron. “He’s missed you quite a bit,” she informed him.

“Has he?” Harry asked, moving towards his other best friend.

Once all the greetings were out of the way, Hermione rushed back into the kitchen, Sirius at her heels, and brought the roast, plus the potatoes and vegetables, out from the oven. They placed it beneath a Warming and Stasis Charm, and then Sirius went to call everyone to the table, while Hermione put the soup into the tureen with the accompanying ladle. Next, she put the gravy to work with the drippings from the roast, and set it to finish cooking on its own, and to put itself into the gravy boat afterwards. She then dressed the salad and put it on a close side table, so she would be able to hastily get up and grab it without leaving the table for very long.

Levitating the tureen towards the table in the large dining room, Hermione carried the platter of bread almost reverently in her hands. Once she stepped over the threshold, everyone applauded her appearance with the first course. Flushing becomingly, she sent the tureen off to serve everyone on its own, and floated pieces of bread over onto everyone’s plates. Hesitating for a moment, Sirius indicated that they would wait for the main course before toasts, and Hermione was relieved, due to the fact that hunger pangs had already set in for her.

As per tradition in the older families, Hermione sat at the foot of the table, while Sirius occupied the head, for, as Head of the House of Black, he served an important role in the dinner party, as well as in Wizarding Society. Headmaster Dumbledore sat to his right, as he was considered the guest of honor, while Arthur sat across from him, as the next senior member of the company that night. It was Molly who sat beside her husband, then Ron and Tonks sat beside her, followed by Ginny, and then the foot of the table. On Hermione’s other side was Luna, who sat beside Neville, Draco in between Neville and Harry, and, finally, beside the headmaster, sat Severus.

“Oh, this is delicious, Hermione,” Tonks cooed from her place close by. “You must give me the recipe, of course.”

Hermione nodded. “Of course, Tonks. The secret is fresh tomatoes. Your flat has a balcony, doesn’t it?”

Tonks nodded. “It does.”

“I can help you get some seeds,” Neville said softly, and Luna beamed at him. “Plus, a breakdown of instructions. All plants have different needs, you see. Some require more sun than shade, others need a specific amount of water.”

“I suppose my marks in Herbology weren’t that great,” Tonks said with a laugh, and Ron leaned over and pressed his lips to her temple.

“That’s why it’s great to have Nev around,” he told her.

“Ronald!” Hermione scolded.

“Not just because he’s a walking Herbology encyclopedia,” Ron said, rolling his eyes at Hermione, while Molly glared at him, smacking his hand. “Oi! Anyhow, Nev’s also a really good guy, and he’s wicked brave,” he went on.

“I cast a Patronus Charm over the holidays, a corporal one,” he said softly, and Ron’s jaw dropped, while Ginny and Hermione squealed with delight, Draco smiled, and Harry let out a crow of happiness.

“Well done, Nev!” Harry said approvingly. “What form did it take, then?”

“A beautiful European hare,” Luna said dreamily, covering her hand with Neville’s, who looked pleased at the display of affection. “It dearly loves my arctic hare, Pruina.”

“I’ve called mine Lewis, after Lewis Carroll, creator of the character the March Hare,” Neville said softly.

Luna turned towards Hermione. “Neville borrowed my copy of Alice in Wonderland that you gave me last Christmas, Hermione,” she said brightly.

“As well he should have,” Hermione declared with a nod. “I hope your gran didn’t mind you reading Muggle literature, Neville.”

“She’s certainly calmed down a lot,” Neville said quietly. “I think her weekly teas with Arabella Figg, courtesy of Harry, really help.”

“How’s your Patronus coming along, Draco?” Harry asked, after grinning at Neville in gratitude, before he turned to the former Malfoy heir.

“Swimmingly,” Draco replied.

Ginny gazed adoringly across the table at him. “Don’t be so modest, my dragon,” she told him, her voice loving with the endearment, while Ron mimed vomiting from down the table. “Tell them how it’s going.”

“Very well, my fair one,” Draco said indulgently, his cheeks turning a slight pink, which directly caused Severus to leave his conversation with Molly and Arthur, plus the headmaster and Sirius, so as he could listen to his godson.

“I, too, am interested in your progress, Draco,” Severus put in.

Draco turned to face his Head of House, before he finally nodded. “All right. Well, its finally shaped up into a proper form now, and I’m quite pleased with it.” He drained his bowl of soup, which led Hermione to realize that everyone was finished.

“Please, excuse me,” she said softly, getting to her feet, while Sirius banished the bowls, tureen, and soup spoons into the kitchen. Hermione dashed out of the room, retrieving the salad bowl and serving spoons, before she hastily made her way back inside the dining room. “Terribly sorry for making you wait,” she said, and instructed the serving spoons to serve everyone at the large dining room table.

“Nonsense, dear,” Molly said quickly, flashing Hermione a kind smile. “It’s your very first dinner party as Mrs. Black. Surely, it cannot all go off without a hitch.”

“Molly’s first meal for my mother and father and my brothers, plus her own parents and brothers, was a rather memorable roast pheasant,” Arthur said with a smile.

“Everything went wrong,” Molly said, shaking her head in bemusement. “The wild mushrooms for the stew I’d prepared were off, then the pheasant wasn’t cooked enough, and the strawberries I’d sliced for the pie for pudding danced merrily away out into the lake.” She gave Hermione a quick smile. “Trust me, dear. Making us wait in comparison to my disastrous first try is truly a blessing in comparison.”

“The strawberries, that must’ve been your brothers,” Ginny said thoughtfully, flashing her mother a smile.

“Bad as Fred and George, they were,” Ron put in.

“Back to Draco’s Patronus,” Severus said softly.

“Oh, yes!” Hermione squeaked, turning towards the young man in question. “I am sorry, Draco. I won’t interrupt you again.”

Draco smiled. “It’s all right, Hermione, really,” he told her, before sighing, letting his shoulders relax themselves as he picked at his salad. Lowering one of his hands into the sleeve of the formal robe he wore, he drew out his wand, while Ginny nodded encouragingly at him. Draco let out a sigh before he said, “Expecto Patronum.”

There was the typical silver mist that came forth from the tip of the wand, whitening as it evolved from the mist and took shape. The sleek and small animal landed directly in the center of the table, looking around curiously. It was, to everyone’s amusement, some kind of ferret, and Harry and Ron covered their mouths to prevent themselves from laughing.

“Thank you ever so much for continuing to poke fun at a traumatizing event in my life,” Draco said softly, banishing the animal.

Ginny glared daggers at Ron, her eyes crackling as if they were on fire. Severus gently clipped Harry around the ear, while Tonks stepped on Ron’s toe, and Molly smacked him upon the head quite hard.

Hermione straightened in her chair. “I, for one, think it’s a perfectly lovely Patronus,” she said, and everyone turned to look at her. “They have keen eyesight, due to their historical position as hunters of rabbit and other rodents. Good hearing, I’m told, must adhere to the animal as well. They must also be quick on their feet, and are as loyal as any cat or dog,” she said plainly, and both Harry and Ron looked quite humble at the proclamation. “Now, I won’t hear of any of you dismissing Draco’s Patronus as ‘funny’, because he was able to rise above what Crouch Jr. put him through, and turn it into something capable of saving all your arses.”

Ginny leaned over and clasped Hermione’s hand. “Thank you.”

Harry immediately lowered his eyes, truly understanding what it was like to feel traumatized, in large part due to his upbringing. “Sorry, Draco,” he said softly, and Severus nodded in approval at his young husband, rewarding him with a kiss upon the very ear he’d just clipped.

Ron, however, didn’t apologize, and stared inquiringly at Hermione. “What’s gotten you so bloody emotional tonight?” he demanded. “Oi!” he shouted as he as elbowed on either side of his ribs, by Tonks and Molly respectively.

“Now, wait a moment,” Sirius said, but Hermione stared him down, causing the animalistic side of him to calm immediately.

“Don’t be rude, Ron, please,” Tonks said, reprimanding her husband gently but firmly, which earned her a look of approval from Molly.

Hermione stared across the table at Sirius, who flashed her an encouraging smile, Ron’s momentary slip apparently forgotten in the grand scheme of things. “Well,” she said, looking at everyone, “Sirius and I have fulfilled our end of the prophecy, because I’m pregnant,” she told them all, which left various shouts of congratulations to fill the happy couple’s ears, but Sirius only had eyes for his wife, and Hermione for her husband, as they stared lovingly across the table at one another, barely noticing that the headmaster smiled with approval at the announcement.

Chapter 6: Tip of the Iceberg

Notes:

TW: Mentions of depression, attempted suicide.

Chapter Text

Hermione and Sirius tumbled into bed as soon as their guests had gone, the last one being the headmaster, who congratulated them again on Hermione’s pregnancy. Exhausted, Hermione had nearly crumpled once he’d left, leading Sirius to carry her up to the master bedroom. Changing quickly, they slipped into bed, Sirius holding Hermione tightly against him, and Crookshanks curling at the foot of the bed.

Around an hour before the sun was due to rise, Hermione rose from the bed and fetched her new Weasley jumper; this year’s boasted a book and a wand, with the wand intermittently tapping the book, thus opening and closing it. With Crookshanks at her heels, she paid a quick visit to Iris and the thus-far unnamed, black-barred owl, and smiled to herself, greeting the both of them in hers and Sirius’s shared study. After a healthy helping of owl treats for them both, she slipped downstairs to give Crookshanks his breakfast, and to start on hers and Sirius’s morning meal as well.

As she warmed the croissants and cranberry rolls, she got to work on cooking the eggs, rashers, and sausages upon the cooker, as well as setting the small table in the kitchen. Singing softly to herself as the meats and eggs crackled in their respective pans, she heard a familiar tread upstairs, plus an exclamation of delight from her husband, and she knew then that he had discovered the owl. Smiling to herself, she continued the breakfast preparation, inclining her head as Sirius came down the stairs and came into the kitchen.

“That owl wouldn’t be for me, would it?” Sirius asked, wrapping his arms around Hermione’s waist, pressing a kiss to her temple.

Hermione hummed in response. “Of course. Happy Christmas, my love,” she said, turning to her husband and pressing a kiss onto his lips. “But Iris was a definite influencer,” she reported. “I heard from her that they were friends back at Eeylops, and she missed him terribly.”

“Naturally,” Sirius said, holding her to him for one more moment before turning her lose. “Am I permitted to name him?”

“Of course,” Hermione said, grinning up at him as she moved the eggs into a bowl, and the rashers and sausages onto a platter. “Every owl needs a name.” Once she’d extracted the rolls and croissants from the small bread oven, she carried everything to the small kitchen table, and put a Stasis Charm upon it.

“Are we not eating yet?” Sirius asked, perplexed.

“Not for another moment, no,” Hermione said conspiratorially, turning then as an unfamiliar owl flew up to the back door, carrying a small cage. Smiling to herself, she took a rasher from the breakfast platter and moved to open the door, watching as the owl gently sat the cage down onto the kitchen island and looked expectantly up at Hermione. “Here you are,” she said, handing over the rasher, and also providing the creature with a small saucer of water.

Hermione and Sirius watched as the owl ate and drank, while all the while Crookshanks sat at attention, his eyes fixated upon the cage. Hermione cast a Cleaning Charm upon her hand so that it wouldn’t continue to be contaminated by rasher grease, and walked the owl to the door once it had had its snack and small respite.

“Careful going back to London,” she said, waving off the creature. Turning back around after shutting the door, Hermione crossed back to the island and gently lifted the latch of the cage. “I don’t want you to be frightened,” she said gently to the medium-sized orange ball of fluff within, who looked warily at her. “Come on, now. It’s all right.”

The feline inched forward and smelled Hermione’s hand, before permitting itself to cautiously step forward, revealing the impressive brown spots all over her body. Finally, once it was close enough, Hermione smoothly took it into her arms, and the cat nuzzled closer, clearly wanting human contact. Smiling, she turned towards her husband, who looked amazed.

“You’re a natural with animals, love,” Sirius said with a smile, as Crookshanks jumped into his arms, so as to get a better look at the new arrival. “Who’s this, then?”

“A companion for Crookshanks,” she said, moving so that both the feline and the feline hybrid could be nose-to-nose, and the pair looked inquiringly at one another.

“It looks wild,” Sirius said.

Hermione quickly calmed the creature she held, who appeared to take offense to Sirius’s comment. “She is an Ocicat, and she is not wild,” she informed her husband pointedly. “Though she has the appearance of a wildcat, there’s no wildcat DNA within her.”

“Have you thought of a name for her?” Sirius asked.

“This is Valentina,” Hermione said, scratching the cat behind her ears, to which the cats’ eyes shut almost immediately, and she began to purr. “Ocicats have temperaments similar to that of dogs, but I thought she would make a worthy companion for Crookshanks.” Gently lowering her to the ground, Sirius did the same with Crookshanks.

Crookshanks meowed at Valentina, who’s ears perked up at the sound. Crookshanks then moved into the living room, with Valentina following, and Hermione and Sirius watched as they meandered towards the couch, promptly jumping up onto it and falling asleep. Smiling to herself, Hermione charmed the fire to light itself, before she returned her gaze onto her husband.

“Feeling hungry?” she asked.

“Very,” Sirius responded, taking her by the hand and leading her towards the table, pulling her chair out for her, and proceeding to serve her.

“The headmaster said that Winky would be here tomorrow morning,” Hermione said softly. “I think you were saying goodbye to Harry and Severus at the time...”

Sirius smiled down at her and finished serving her, before he walked towards his own chair, and began serving himself. “That sounds lovely,” he responded. “I’m sure that Crookshanks, Valentina, Iris, and Draven will have to grow used to her eventually.”

“And vice-versa,” Hermione said, lifting her fork. “Draven? That’s what you’re going to call your owl, then?”

“Yes,” Sirius responded. “Do you like it?”

“I like the name, but I love you,” Hermione said, reaching across the table, and taking her husband’s hand in his. “Happy Christmas.”

Sirius’s dark blue eyes warmed at his wife’s words to him. “Happy Christmas, Hermione. I love you, too.”

~*~

Madam Pomfrey had come to the house on Boxing Day, accompanying Winky, who was squeaking enthusiastically at her good fortune. Sirius broke down what Winky’s duties would be, and showed her around the house. Hermione smiled at the strength and consideration that her husband was showing their new house-elf, and sat upon the couch in the parlor, pouring tea for herself and the Hogwarts matron.

“How do you like it?” Hermione asked her.

Madam Pomfrey smiled. “Milk and a splash of honey, please,” she replied. She took the cup when Hermione presented it to her and sipped it. “That’s delicious,” she said, examining the cup she help with approval. “And such fine china...”

“Sirius found the entire set in the Black family vault at Gringotts,” Hermione told her, doctoring her own cup of tea to her liking, before sitting back upon the couch, watching as the matron made herself comfortable in one of the finely-upholstered armchairs beside the fireplace. “Apparently, according to the headmaster, they’re called Shelley Georgian ‘Red’,” she said, pleased to know something about the tea service currently occupying their conversation.

“It’s quite lovely, dear,” Madam Pomfrey said, sipping at her tea. “Albus mentioned that it would be prudent if I accompanied Winky here to start her journey as the official house-elf for the House of Black, but he didn’t specify as to the reason why.” The silver-haired woman finished her tea and gently placed it back upon the tray. “You and Sirius are doing well, I trust? I do hope you haven’t suffered any allergic reactions from the farm animals...”

Hermione finished her tea as well, knowing that the headmaster had attempted to be considerate by not blabbing to Madam Pomfrey about her pregnancy. Stealing herself for any kind of reaction, Hermione slowly leaned forward, placing her own cup back onto the tray. “Sirius and I were made aware, just before Christmas, that I’m pregnant,” she replied.

“Oh, but that’s wonderful news!” Madam Pomfrey cried, reaching out and clasping Hermione’s hand in hers. “How did Sirius take the news?”

Hermione smiled. “He was terribly shocked, to be sure. However, he came around very quickly, of course. Not only was it the goal to become pregnant between now and the end of June, but he and I have spoken at length about children and it’s something we both want.”

“I’m very glad to hear it,” Madam Pomfrey assured her. “Why don’t you lie back upon the couch, make yourself comfortable, and I’ll examine you to make sure that everything’s going well in there?”

Hermione nodded. “Yes, please.” Angling her body, she placed a pillow behind where her head would rest, and removed her boots, before maneuvering herself into a lying down position upon the red velvet piece of furniture.

“Yes, just like that,” Madam Pomfrey encouraged, having already gotten to her feet, and crossed the room, wand out. “Just let me...” She dragged her wand down Hermione’s body, before permitting it to hover above her belly. She quickly smiled when a pale blue light flashed from the tip of her wand, and she pulled back.

“It was blue,” Hermione said. “Does that mean it’s a boy?”

Madam Pomfrey laughed. “Oh, no, my dear. It’s far too soon to tell. No, the pale blue indicates that everything is well, and on schedule. I’d pinpoint your due date to be in September, probably around your birthday, Hermione.”

Hermione nodded. “Oh, thank Merlin. That’s wonderful news,” she said, automatically clutching at her belly, and looking up as Sirius advanced into the room.

“Your wife is just fine, Sirius,” Madam Pomfrey informed him, tucking her wand back into her starched white apron, smiling indulgently at the couple as Sirius bent and pressed a kiss to Hermione’s temple.

“She says everything’s on schedule,” Hermione reported.

“And quite a strong magical core,” the matron said, and Hermione and Sirius quickly looked over at her. “Strongest I’ve seen in quite a long time. The both of you should be very proud,” she went on with approval.

“Thank you, Poppy,” Sirius said, smiling at her.

“Not a problem at all, dears,” she said, turning to look down at Hermione. “We’ll schedule some more appointments once term begins. Will you be wanting to go through St. Mungo’s once term ends? If so, I’d be glad to offer you a referral...”

“No,” Hermione said quickly, shaking her head. “If you wouldn’t mind, Madam Pomfrey, I would be honored if you would deliver my child.”

Madam Pomfrey smiled warmly. “The honor would be mine,” she said, and her wand vibrated from within her apron’s pocket, and she took it out. “Oh, dear,” she said, tutting. “Minor catastrophe back at the school with the handful of students who decided to remain... Ah, well, I suppose I should be getting back.”

Sirius and Hermione said their farewells to the Hogwarts matron, and Sirius moved across the parlor to see her to the Floo accordingly. Once she’d vanished in a puff of green flames, Sirius turned back around and regarded his wife with a smile. “I’ve showed Winky around, and she’s fully prepared to take over the house.”

Hermione grinned, sitting up so as Sirius could sit down on the couch behind her. “Should we be worried?” she asked, taking ahold of his hands to place upon her belly.

“Oh, I think not, seeing as it’s Winky,” Sirius assured her, gently pulling her backwards so as she could lean up against the length of his body. “Other than the minor slip-up, she served the Crouch family for many years.”

Hermione shook her head. “Harry told us how devastated she was to be let go... It was an eye-opening experience, truly, to hear about, and later meet, a house-elf who was so keen on working for a family.” She turned her head then, looking at her husband with a fair amount of seriousness, and felt all the more secure in his arms. “What is that I’m smelling?” she asked, lifting her nose into the air, and her stomach growling a moment later.

Sirius smiled indulgently at his young wife. “Oh. I may have informed Winky that you provided that lavish dinner party on Christmas Eve, plus breakfast and dinner on Christmas Day.”

Hermione raised her eyebrows. “And?”

“And Winky knows of your condition, of course,” Sirius said, and Hermione nodded, as they thought it best to inform her of it via the headmaster, once they’d petitioned him for her services in their home. “She just wants to be sure that her cooking is up to par. And, of course, since you’re pregnant, she wants to do some of the heavy lifting, so to speak.”

“Heavy lifting?”

“She’s going all-out for her first evening here,” Sirius told Hermione, “and she’s got meals planned all the way up until you return to Hogwarts for term.”

“What meals?”

“Tonight, it will be simple fare of steak and chips with your favorite, Caesar salad,” Sirius informed her, and Hermione’s mouth watered at the prospect. “Toad in the Hole for Saturday, and a traditional roast with all the trimmings for Sunday. She’s decided on roast chicken with potatoes and veg for Monday, lasagna for Tuesday, tomato soup and toasted cheese for Wednesday, meatloaf with root vegetable stew and fresh bread for Thursday, chicken cutlets with mashed potatoes for Friday, macaroni cheese for next Saturday, and a roast again for Sunday, as it’s our final day here before term is due to begin.”

Hermione pursed her lips; although she was quite happy with the planned menus, she was not happy about potentially being separated from her husband from January until Easter. “Will you have to remain here, then?” she asked.

Sirius shook his head. “No. Albus and I had a long conversation about it, after pretty much everyone surrounded you once you’d made the announcement on Christmas Eve,” Sirius said with a smile, and Hermione recalled how she was made to sit while her guests insisted upon serving her that evening. “Since we’re married, Albus has taken a good look at the rules and regulations for couples in the ancient tomes in the Hogwarts Library. Apparently, it is considered appropriate for married couples to be together. And, since you’re Head Girl and have got your own rooms, it’s not like we’d be frightening any first-years.”

“What about Winky?” Hermione wanted to know. “Surely, she wouldn’t like to be kept here, all on her own... Not that I don’t trust her, but...”

“But you’re aware of the notion that house-elves bond with their owners to the point where they will miss them if the owners are gone for extended periods,” Sirius said gently.

Hermione wrinkled her nose. “Please, not ‘owners’,” she said quietly. “We’re Winky’s family; we don’t own her. I’ll not have her think she’s our slave.”

Sirius smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “My apologies. And Winky will return to work in the Hogwarts kitchens, just until we have need of her.”

Hermione nodded. “All right. That’s acceptable.” She leaned back in Sirius’s arms again, but this time positioned herself so that she could see his face. “And what about Harry and Severus, plus Ron and Tonks?”

Sirius rolled his eyes at the mention of his godson, plus his spouse. “Harry, of course, has already moved into the dungeons, and will remain there with Severus for the rest of term, as befitting a married couple,” he explained. “Severus plans on retiring and going into potions research at the end of June, so he and Harry will be living in the Potter property in Godric’s Hollow, which they’re restoring between now and the end-of-term.”

Hermione raised her eyebrows at that unexpected news. “I had no idea that Severus intended upon leaving the school, but I cannot say I’m surprised. He’s a brilliant potioneer, and now, with this plan in place, he’ll likely reach his full potential...” She worried her lower lip. “I do hope, however, that the restoration is a successful endeavor. I’d hate for their wedded bliss to be tarnished by... Well, some less-than-happy memories...”

Sirius pulled Hermione close. “I’ve ensured that the house there will be on the Floo Network, and the goblins at Gringotts will put up the best warding charms and spells out there. I’m sure we’ll be invited there, just as we’ve extended the invitation to them.”

Hermione’s brows knit together. “But what about Ron and Tonks? He’s not Head Boy—he still has to sleep in the dorms with Neville, Dean, and Seamus. That’s hardly an appropriate place to bring your wife...”

“It was initially thought that Ron and Tonks would only be able to see each other at the weekends, with Ron Floo-ing to London, where Tonks lives.”

Hermione fully turned around then. “That’s vile!”

Sirius nodded. “It is. They’re newlyweds and, what with Tonks being a Metamorphmagus, their bond is a bit different than most.”

Hermione arched an eyebrow, cocking her head to one side. “Is it sort of like a creature bond, of sorts, then? Like Bill’s marriage to Fleur? I heard from Ron and Ginny that they have to work in the same department within Gringotts, because they need to be close...”

“Very similar, yes,” Sirius told her. “Tonks’ abilities could go haywire if she and Ron are separated for more than a few hours every day.”

Hermione looked fearful. “How?”

“Tonks, in her delirium, could quite possibly turn into something potentially dangerous—a shark, or even a bear—and no one would be able to calm her down,” Sirius said quietly, shaking his head with a shudder. “Because her magic is linked with Ron’s, he is a natural calming agent for her. Because of this, Albus has asked the castle to provide lodgings for them both, all connected by Floo, next door to Draco’s Head Boy quarters,” he explained. “That way, they’ll only need to be apart for Ron’s lessons, as well as Tonks’s Auror duty.”

Hermione shook her head. “But I heard that any supernatural ability a witch or wizard could have, when placed in a stressful situation, could potentially be exacerbated...”

“Lavender Libation, a new invention of Severus’s, is apparently working well,” Sirius informed Hermione, pleased that she was so worried for his favorite cousin. “Ron will go to the Burrow for a few hours, or Tonks will work on a case at the ministry, or she’ll just go for a visit to her childhood home, to see Ted and Dromeda. She’ll take the potion if her symptoms are prevalent, and, thankfully, she’s shown no adverse effects towards it.”

“That’s a relief,” Hermione said softly. “I know the both of them would be devastated if anything happened to their children...”

Sirius reached out, gently rotating Hermione’s chin so that she was facing him. “Do you know something I don’t, love?”

Hermione grinned at him and shook her head. “No, love. I don’t know about Harry and Severus either. All I do know is, they’re working hard to achieve the goal, for the last thing any of us would want is the prophecy not being fulfilled.”

~*~

In the days leading up to the second term at Hogwarts beginning, Hermione and Winky spent hours in the kitchen, working around one another. Once she informed Winky about how the wives of the farm hands were interested in meeting her, Winky prepared numerous baskets full of fruits, vegetables, herbs, flowers, and various baked goods to bring to the good people. In return, Hermione was given all varieties of tea by the good women, typical Muggle conversation, and meeting their children, who were all perfectly adorable. Six-year-old Jennifer Gittings, whose mother, Diana, offered Hermione a cup of ginger tea with honey, quickly became her favorite, due to her intelligent silver eyes, quick wit, and massive vocabulary. Sirius had gotten close to Miles Gittings, who was an overseer of the farm hands.

On the day Hermione, Sirius, and Winky were due to return to Hogwarts, Hermione felt saddened that their brief respite was, for the moment, at least, over. She would miss their beautiful cottage, as well as the Gittings family, who had made quite an impression on her. Knowing that they wouldn’t be back until summer was a disheartening thought, but she knew that she would grin and bear it, as she always did. And besides, the vacation to her parents’ home in the Lake District would be fun to show Sirius.

Utilizing the Floo connection, Hermione, Sirius, and Winky were deposited in the quarters utilized by the Head Girl. Winky immediately snapped her fingers, unpacking both Hermione’s and Sirius’s belongings, while Sirius let Valentina out of her cage, while Hermione did the same to Crookshanks. Iris and Draven had been sent to the school the day before, and were reportedly in the owlery already, according to Winky, who had checked on them earlier that morning, per Hermione and Sirius’s instructions.

“Will Master Sirius and Mistress Hermione be needing anything else?” Winky asked, adjusting the pink apron with HoB stitched onto it that she wore.

Sirius shook his head. “No, thank you, Winky. We’ll let you know if that changes.”

Winky bowed. “Winky will be in the kitchens with Dobby and Kreacher, then,” she said, and popped away.

Hermione smiled, seeing that Crookshanks and Valentina had claimed the red velvet couch. She turned and looked out the window; it was dark outside, as it was past eight o’clock; Winky had insisted they not leave the cottage until eating their dinner. Now, she was just one sleep away before she was due to resume Head Girl duties, life as a Hogwarts student, and the critical study of her NEWTs. She let out a small mewl as Sirius took her into his arms, which he seemed to be doing a lot more lately, but she wasn’t about to complain.

“Nervous about tomorrow?” he asked.

Hermione sighed, practically melting into him. “Not completely,” she admitted; she had gotten all her assignments done during the holiday, of course, attending to her husband in various ways notwithstanding. “I suppose I never thought I’d be pregnant during my final year of Hogwarts, but I do understand the necessity of it...”

“We can definitely wait before our second child, dearest,” Sirius assured her, leaning forward and brushing his lips upon her cheek.

“But I don’t want a massive age difference between any of them,” she said, reaching around and taking her husband by the hand, and guided him into the bedroom. She was relieved that Sirius had suggested a bath after dinner, so all they needed to do was change for bed. Waving her hand, she cast a Warming Charm upon the sheets, and, after waving her hand downwards, the bed readily opened itself up for both of them.

“I can understand that,” Sirius said. “But no favoritism.”

Hermione turned around then, wrapping her arms around her husband’s neck. “No, of course not, love,” she said, knowing quite well how much Orion and Walburga had blatantly favored Regulus over Sirius. “Never.”

Sirius nodded, kissing her forehead before breaking away from her and crossing the room towards her wardrobe. He fetched and tossed Hermione one of her long, white and cotton nightgowns, and a simple deep blue nightshirt for himself. He peered at Hermione as she changed, finding that she truly grew more and more beautiful every day.

“Do you want to name the children something astronomical?” Hermione asked carefully, as Sirius slipped into bed beside her.

Sirius shook his head at her. “We needn’t partake in that tradition,” he told her, lifting his arm as he lay back, prompting Hermione to snuggle up beside him. “Why? Have you thought of a name?”

“One, if it is a girl,” Hermione said softly.

Sirius smiled, kissing her forehead more tenderly this time. “Tell me.”

Hermione slowly peeked up at him. “I’ve always liked the name Sarah.”

Sirius smiled. “‘Sarah’?”

“Derived from the Hebrew meaning of noblewoman or princess,” Hermione said, wrapping her arm around Sirius’s middle.

Sirius sighed. “We may have to compromise on that,” he said softly. “The House of Black demands very old-fashioned names, with just a hint of pretention.”

Hermione smirked, looking up at her husband. “Do you have a suggestion?”

“Seraphina, meaning ‘burning ones’,” Sirius said quietly.

Hermione happily pressed closer to Sirius at his suggestion. “I love it,” she declared with a smile, savoring the warmth between the two of them. “Seraphina Josephine Black...”

“Josephine?”

Hermione lowered her eyes. “There was a Muggle book I read as a girl. The main character was a girl named Josephine. She was outspoken and stubborn, and was a very talented writer.”

“It’s perfect,” Sirius told her, tangling his fingers in her hair. “And if it’s a boy?”

Hermione wetted her lips. “Prometheus,” she whispered. “We could call him ‘Theo’, and, that way, he’s less likely to be teased...”

“Prometheus Brando Black,” Sirius said softly, and smiled when Hermione caught his eye. “I think Marlon Brando is pure genius and lights up the screen.”

Hermione grinned, nuzzling closer to her husband. “I like him, too.”

Sirius waved the lights out of the room, shut the door, and pulled the curtains on the four-poster the pair of them were currently occupying closed. “You don’t think Albus will insist on naming the children, do you?” he asked.

Hermione pressed herself as close to Sirius as she could. “Merlin, I hope not...”

~*~

The following morning at eight o’clock, Hermione headed downstairs to breakfast, nervous about what her second-term schedule would entail. She would need to have a meeting with Professor McGonagall soon about her intentions for her NEWTs exams, and what all she wanted to take. So far, she’d decided on charms, potions, Herbology, Defense Against the Dark Arts, History of Magic, Transfiguration, arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and Apparition. She would need to write a letter of intent by March and would have the final meeting with her Head of House just before term broke again for Easter, and she had already begun outlining a draft for it.

Stepping into the Great Hall, she was relieved to see that Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Neville were already seated at the Gryffindor table; further along, Luna sat with the Ravenclaws and Draco was with the Slytherins. Claiming the vacant seat beside Ginny and accepting her hug, Hermione smelled the breakfast offerings, before putting toast and sausages onto her plate, and served herself a generous helping of porridge.

Harry, meanwhile, had served himself a generous portion of rashers and, much to Ron and Ginny’s horror, was pouring table sugar on top. “It needs it,” Harry told them.

Hermione’s eyes widened, and hastily cast a Silencing Charm around them; Neville was distracted by a debate between Seamus and Dean, and was not within the bubble. “Harry,” said Hermione softly, “something you need to tell us?”

Harry looked up at her and grinned. “Severus and I told the headmaster last night, and you four can know about it,” he said, turning to Ginny, “and you can tell Draco—”

“Blimey, mate, just tell us!” Ron said, his tone impatient.

“I’m pregnant,” Harry said. “Apparently, it happened on Christmas Eve, according to Madam Pomfrey—she checked me before our meeting with Dumbledore.”

“Seems like Professor Snape wanted to keep on schedule,” Ginny said with a knowing smirk, her red brows moving up and down dramatically.

“Congratulations, Harry!” Hermione said, reaching across the table and taking his hand.

Ron sighed and lowered his eyes. “Snape needs to brew us a potion,” he said softly.

Harry turned and looked over at him. “Ron?”

“Apparently, the Tonks side has difficulties in conception,” Ron explained. “If we haven’t gotten pregnant by Easter, Snape says he’ll brew something.”

Hermione sighed, shaking her head. “Merlin, Ron, I’m so sorry.”

Ron forced a smile to his lips. “We’ll make do, and I know that Snape’ll help us,” he said softly. “Mum’s with Tonks all the time when she’s not at the ministry... She’s giving her advice on what to eat, what not to eat, plus all these exercises...” He shook his head, looking concerned for his wife. “We just really want this baby. We know we probably wouldn’t even be trying if this prophecy wasn’t there, but...”

“None of us would be, Ron,” Hermione said quietly, giving him a sympathetic smile. “But, the most important thing here is to be patient, and love,” she whispered. “We all have the capability to love, and that’s the most precious thing of all.”

“It is,” Harry said with a nod, looking dreamily up at the head table, where Professor Snape gave Harry a long look, his eyes filled with love, before turning back to his breakfast potatoes and sausages.

“What’ll happen, do you think?” Ron whispered, voice trembling, and Ginny shifted closer to Hermione at the look of fear in her brother’s face. “What do you think will happen if Tonks and I can’t...? Well, you know. Have a baby...”

Ginny lowered her eyes, staring down at the table. “The headmaster spoke to me and Draco on Boxing Day,” she said quietly, hunching her shoulders. “Came to the Burrow and everything...”

“Is everything all right, Ginny?” Hermione asked.

“At the end of the day, there needs to be more blood for the Wizarding World,” she whispered with a small shudder. “‘Blood from innocent babes’... That’s what the headmaster told me and Draco, anyway.” She shut her eyes.

“Gin?” Harry asked, obviously concerned.

“I’m a Weasley, and Draco is Tonks’s cousin, so we share blood with both you and Tonks,” said Ginny quietly, addressing her brother.

“Yeah?” Ron said.

Ginny’s eyes snapped open. “The headmaster says that, if you and Tonks are unable to conceive, either with or without a potion...”

“Ginny,” Hermione said, her voice cracking.

“Draco and I have to replace you within the prophecy,” she whispered, trembling now. She curled inwards on herself then, covering her face with her hands, just as Draco dashed across the Great Hall, and launched himself into the privacy bubble, wrapping his arms around Ginny from her other side.

“Would someone tell me what the bloody hell is going on?!” Ron demanded, looking at everyone within the privacy bubble.

Harry lowered his eyes, no longer touching his bacon. “Ron,” he said roughly, obviously wanting his best mate to calm down.

Hermione lowered her eyes as Ginny took her hand and squeezed it, obviously giving her permission to speak on her behalf, while Draco comforted her. “The reasoning behind Draco defecting from the Death Eaters isn’t only because he didn’t agree with their beliefs,” she said quietly. As she took ahold of Ginny’s offered arm, she gently rolled up her sleeve and cancelled the Concealing Charm, revealing the words that Bellatrix Lestrange had cut there with her dagger which, due to being laced with dark magic, could be concealed, but never fully healed or vanished completely.

“Blood traitor,” Ron whispered, reading the words aloud, his voice alight with anger, while his eyes glittered with rage.

“Rabastan held me down while she did it,” Ginny whispered, her voice hollow as she named Bellatrix’s brother-in-law, who just so happened to be another loyal Death Eater. “Then, she encouraged him to defile me, so as I would know what would happen to blood traitors, if Riddle won...”

Harry slowly raised his eyes upwards, the green tinged with a violent red. “Oh, Ginny,” he said softly, his voice broken.

“I didn’t want blood on my hands that night, or any night,” Draco said softly. “But, when I saw what they were doing, I stunned Bellatrix and killed Rabastan. There would be no loss between me and that faction of my family anyhow,” he said, and sighed as Ginny pulled herself closer still to her fiancé. “Although, Ginny is my family now; you all are...” Draco struggled to get ahold of himself. “In that moment, all I knew was that I had to help Ginny, and to get her away from there, and it was then that I realized that I’d fallen in love with her...”

“And I loved him,” Ginny whispered, her voice filled with sadness. “Once I got away, I tried to throw myself off the Dark Tower...”

“Ginny!” cried Ron.

“Draco saved me,” she whispered, curling deeper still into his arms.

“That’s why you’re so afraid about the prophecy,” Harry whispered.

“I’m not afraid of Draco, or that he’ll hurt me,” Ginny said, trying her best to be strong. “I’m afraid of me, and my memories, and that I’m too broken. I’m afraid that I’ll look at the entire act as something devastating, and that I won’t be able to...” She lowered her eyes, tears streaming down her face, before throwing herself back into Draco’s arms.

“That won’t happen,” Hermione said gently, and Ginny turned her head to look at her. “That won’t happen, and I know it. I know it, because you’re strong, Ginny. You’re strong, and you’re smart, and you know that Draco loves you more than anything. I know that you’ll need some time, and that it might not work right away. And you are not broken,” Hermione said fiercely, her voice filled with determination. “You took down several Death Eaters that night, Ginevra Molly Weasley, and were just as courageous in the Department of Mysteries two years ago. I know you’re feeling fragile, and that’s to be expected, but I also know you, and I know that you never give up without a fight.”

Ginny lowered her eyes, her lashes becoming caught in her tears. “I just don’t know if this is a fight I want to win,” she whispered, and everyone within the privacy bubble felt the sadness leaking from the shattered witch.

Chapter 7: Light and Darkness

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

As January continued to unfold, Hermione suddenly got an onset of morning sickness, so she had to keep dry crackers around at all times. Thankfully, Severus provided her with a Disillusionment Charm, which applied to food and its scent, so no one saw her eating anything, or any crumbs about her person. However, she had to watch out for chewing, but she claimed that she was gritting her teeth, nerves coming on due to the upcoming NEWTs and all, and so the vast majority of the student body left her alone.

“How’s it going for you?” Hermione asked Harry one evening; it was a weekend, at the end of the month, wherein Sirius was out in his Animagus form, Severus was searching for some potions ingredients in Ireland, and Ron was over at the flat with Tonks. “I haven’t seen you chewing on crackers like your life depends on it...”

Harry laughed. “Madam Pomfrey says that not everyone gets morning sickness,” he explained carefully, shrugging his shoulders. “Of course, it could always crop up later.” He deliberately lowered his voice then. “Male pregnancy, according to all the healing experts, is considered to be extremely rare. Because of this, we’re pretty much flying by the seats of our pants here. She’s reading all she can about it in her spare time, and poor Severus is up half the night worrying about our baby...”

Hermione nodded in understanding. “Sirius always wants to fetch and carry for me,” she told him, relieved to finally talk to someone about it. “He holds me so tightly at night that I almost can’t breathe. I have to physically shove him out the door to get him to go for runs on the grounds and in the forest... Tonight was no exception,” she whispered. “I’m just hoping that I’m not right...”

“Right?” Harry asked. “Right about what?”

Hermione nibbled upon her lower lip. “Well, I’m wondering if this is the calm before the storm, as it were,” she told him. “I mean, maybe they’re worried about something coming...”

“Well, there is the little matter of the lose Death Eaters,” Harry said softly. “Plus, Draco hasn’t heard from Mrs. Malfoy since August. She wasn’t ever as heavily into it as Lucius or Bellatrix were, but maybe they saw that as a means to get rid of her or something...”

Hermione swallowed, leaning back upon the couch; she’d long put away her Ancient Runes essay, as it wasn’t due for two weeks, and she could hardly concentrate on it now. Not to mention the fact that she was extremely caught up in all her other classes... “You don’t think that the Orders’ been meeting secretly, do you?”

Harry straightened up at that, his Transfiguration assignment forgotten. “You don’t think they’d actually do that to us, do you?” he asked. “I mean, Dumbledore himself apologized all over himself at the end of fifth-year, telling me he wouldn’t hide anything from me anymore... And then all those lessons sixth-year, to prepare me for the inevitable...”

“Old habits do die hard,” Hermione said softly. “And, as you well know, it’s not like he entered into an Unbreakable Vow with you, or a Wizard’s Oath, swearing never to keep anything from you again...”

Harry raised his eyebrows. “You think he should’ve done one of those?”

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. “I can’t be certain,” she replied. “What I am certain of, given our husbands’ behavior since second-term began, that something is definitely on the horizon. We just need to figure out what it might be...”

Harry gave her a small smirk. “Guess it’s time, then.”

Hermione sighed, wondering if she should summon Dobby or Winky to bring them both something for dinner, as neither fancied going down to the Great Hall. “What?” she asked, turning her head as Crookshanks sauntered into the room.

“I guess it’s time to take my dad’s cloak out again,” Harry told her, and Hermione’s eyes snapped to his, wondering if her best friend had gone as mad as their husbands.

~*~

“Harry, I don’t like his,” Hermione hissed through clenched teeth; it had taken a week to formulate their plan accordingly, and they were now trekking to the headmaster’s office, where Sirius and Severus had gone after dinner. “Harry, I don’t like this at all...”

Harry sighed from where he stood beside Hermione; tucked beneath the cloak, they walked as quickly as they could down the corridor. He had, of course, invited Ron to come along as well but he’d decided to spend the weekend catching up on assignments, taking a break from trying to get Tonks pregnant. “I know you don’t, ‘Mione,” Harry whispered back. “But you’re the one who said it was sort of exciting, breaking the rules...”

Hermione grimaced as her words were thrown back at her; of course, she’d been running on a high at the time for, combined with going against Umbridge, they had all been invited to Grimmauld Place for Christmas and, at the thought of seeing Sirius again... “You know those were exigent circumstances,” she said softly, accusingly.

“Well, at least now there aren’t any blood quills involved,” Harry said darkly.

“Or threats of the Cruciatus,” Hermione put in.

Harry swiveled his head to face her. “You know good and well that the pink toad would’ve followed through, had you not stepped in.”

Hermione swallowed, reaching down and clasping Harry’s hand. “We don’t have to think about that now,” she told him firmly.

Harry clutched at Hermione’s hand, and they ventured into the final corridor, so as they could just make out the gargoyle guarding the staircase. Harry stopped walking then and peered over at Hermione, and she quickly flashed him a smile.

“This way,” she said, and hurried him past the gargoyle, and towards the stone wall just on the other side. Pressing her hand into it, she focused her magic for a moment, leading the wall to give way, and a small alcove to appear before them. Grasping onto Harry’s hand, she pulled him inside of it, and the wall closed up behind them.

“What the hell is this?!” Harry demanded, looking around.

“A small antechamber,” Hermione replied easily. “Hogwarts: A History tells you all about secret passageways and whatnot, plus the places where people can sneak out of the castle to get to Hogsmeade or the Forbidden Forest.”

Harry nodded. “Okay...?”

“In the footnotes,” she continued impatiently, in full lecture mode now, “Bathilda Bagshot informs the reader about the hidden alcoves that the Founders made in times of danger, when they wanted to not be seen, and merely watch the goings-on within the castle. They didn’t want to abandon it or escape, but merely bide their time and watch when would be a good time to attack.”

Harry raised his eyebrows. “That’s bloody brilliant! How does it work?”

Hermione held up her finger, and deftly removed her wand from her other sleeve. “First, we have to decide which way we want to look,” she said quietly, and threw the cloak off them.

“Hermione!” Harry squeaked, fumbling for it in the dark.

“Oh, please,” she said, looking over her shoulder and tutting at him, “I cast plenty of Disillusionment Charms on us when we left my quarters.” Shaking her head and turning back to the inner wall, she whispered, “Pondero murum aperire,” and the wall shimmered for a moment before seemingly falling away.

Harry immediately darted behind Hermione. “What the bloody hell do you...?!”

“It’s just a mirror, Harry, honestly,” Hermione said impatiently, “sort of like the police have in the Muggle World.”

Harry blinked, easing himself away from Hermione. “What?”

“We can see them, but they can’t see or hear us,” Hermione explained patiently. However, at Harry’s questioning look, sighed and said, “The alcove is equipped with Silencing Charms.”

Harry visibly relaxed from behind Hermione. “That’s good, then,” he said quietly, looking around her, and watched as the small room before them began filling up—Dumbledore, Sirius, Severus, Molly and Arthur, Bill and Fleur, Charlie, Fred and Alicia Spinnet, George and Angelina Johnson, Elphias Doge, Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout; Mad-Eye Moody, Minister Shacklebolt, Arabella Figg, Dedalus Diggle, Hagrid, Sturgis Podmore, Hestia Jones, and Tonks all trooped into the room, with Aberforth Dumbledore bringing up the rear. Harry and Hermione turned to look at each other as Sirius and Severus not only sat together, but began whispering in an animated manner at one another.

“Are we all here?” the headmaster asked, looking around as Professor McGonagall and his younger brother, Aberforth, assumed their places on either side of him. On the other side of the table, Hagrid sat, flanked by Professors Flitwick and Sprout.

“I believe so, headmaster,” Severus replied, his tone respectful, and Sirius leaned back in the chair beside him with a smirk, which prompted the potions master to roll his eyes.

“Sorry I was nearly late,” Aberforth put in, and the headmaster promptly turned to look at his last living relative. “Had to leave the Hog’s Head in that new barkeeps’ hands...”

“I’m quite sure that young Mr. Jordan will serve it well,” the headmaster put in.

“He’s our best mate, after all,” Fred piped up, and Alicia promptly curled into his side, making him blush.

“He knew you’d be just the person to apprentice for, Ab,” George put in, and Angelina smiled indulgently at her boyfriend.

“Quite right, you two,” Dumbledore replied with a nod, and turned to address the rest of the Order of the Phoenix. “Sirius, how have your evening runs been going?”

“I Apparate to the locations that Severus provided, and go sniffing around, as ordered,” he reported to the headmaster, and Hermione let out a small squeak at the notion that her husband was literally walking directly into danger.

“Finding anything pressing?” Professor McGonagall asked, leaning forward.

“As suspected, Riddle House is completely abandoned and wholly derelict,” Sirius informed the company, and Severus nodded, as if he’d been expecting that. “Malfoy Manor let me into the wards because I am a part of the bloodline, and only Narcissa and the house-elves remain, although she appears to be under house arrest...”

“We have eyes on her,” Mad-Eye Moody reported gruffly, directly leading both Kingsley and Tonks to nod. “Her Floo is locked, and her magical signature can’t Apparate off the grounds. I assume the only way she can contact anyone is through owl post.”

“‘Ow abou’ Portkeys?” Hagrid asked, speaking up. “Mrs. Malfoy was a bright o’ witch back in ‘er ‘Ogwarts days. Surely she knows th’ magic to make ‘em...”

“Portkeys have to be registered with the Ministry of Magic,” Kingsley told the half-giant calmly and patiently. “While I’m sure she’s certainly capable of making one, the wards we’ve had placed around the manor would alert the ministry immediately if something going against her house-arrest transpired.”

“I didn’t see anything untoward,” Sirius went on. “She merely spoke to her house-elves and read in the library. Of course, this could mean dark books...”

“Cleared out, as part of the house-arrest agreement,” Mad-Eye Moody growled. “We even had top Dark Arts experts scan the library for hidden books, plus books that could’ve potentially been disguised.”

“You can Polyjuice a book?” Charlie asked.

Professor McGonagall moved to answer, shooting a glare at Severus when he scoffed. “It is merely an advanced form of Transfiguration, Mr. Weasley,” she explained patiently, and huffed audibly when Severus moved to speak.

“Perhaps if you had spent less time on the Quidditch pitch and more in the classroom, you’d have remembered something like that, Mr. Weasley.”

“I am so going to kill him for that,” Harry muttered beside Hermione.

“The Lestrange home was also deserted, and the wards have held on Grimmauld Place since I revered its control to the ministry,” Sirius continued. “At this point, I’m tempted to go to Gringotts with special permission to attempt to find other properties that the Malfoys, Lestrange’s, and Black families have access to. It could be some obscure property in the middle of nowhere that they’re doing their nefarious deeds.”

“I’ll have the paperwork drawn up forthwith,” Kingsley said.

Dumbledore nodded in approval. “So, no new leads or reports, then,” he said softly. “This could either mean that they’ve given up, there’s nothing to report...”

“Or they’ve gone underground,” Severus said softly, staring down at the table, “waiting to make their next move.”

“Likely the third,” Professor Flitwick squeaked, and Professor Sprout nodded.

“The safe houses are still there for the three couples directly linked to the new prophecy,” the headmaster continued, and Sirius, Severus, and Tonks all nodded. “Sirius, how is Hermione’s pregnancy progressing?”

“He can’t talk about it!” Harry hissed. “Hagrid’s there!”

Hermione sighed. “Dumbledore takes precautions, so that anything said in the room cannot be spoken about outside the room, as long as you don’t have permission from the source of where the information is coming from.”

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh.”

“Hermione’s progressing quite well,” Sirius said, beaming at the thought of his wife, and Hermione felt her cheeks flushing at that. “We have an appointment very soon with Poppy, and she may be able to tell us the sex.”

“Good, very good,” Dumbledore said, and turned to Severus. “And Harry’s pregnancy?”

Severus smirked to himself, and Sirius moved to kick him from beneath the table, but Severus carefully avoided it. “Very well,” he confirmed, his coal black eyes dancing with love for his young husband. “We should know by mid-March what we’re having.”

“Excellent,” Dumbledore said, and finally turned to Tonks. “Any news for us yet, my dear?”

Tonks deflated then and shook her head. “None yet, headmaster. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, dear girl,” Dumbledore said, reaching out and patting her hand. “These things happen in good time, never fear.”

Tonks nodded. “We’ll keep trying...”

“I know you will,” the man confirmed, turning back to the meeting. The headmaster kept up with his lecturing within the group, until many members excused themselves for the evening—Hagrid to feed Fang; Aberforth to check in on Lee Jordan; Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout to go over marks or examinations for future classes; Arthur and Molly to go home to bed; Bill and Fleur to get some rest for work the following morning; Charlie to catch his Portkey back to Romania; Fred and George to go over their weekly accounts; Alicia and Angelina heading out together, as they shared a flat, and would need to be in tip-top shape for Quidditch practice and their shift at St. Mungo’s respectively the following day; Mad-Eye and Kingsley to return to settle things up at the ministry for the night (with Harry and Hermione mutually shocked that the pair left holding hands); and Diggle escorting Mrs. Figg back to Little Whinging.

Once everyone had cleared out, the headmaster sighed, permitting himself to look exhausted for the very first time since the meeting had initially began. Sirius, Severus, and Tonks all looked worriedly at one another, wondering why they had not yet been excused. Something was happening, Harry and Hermione knew it, and they would soon find out what it was.

“While Riddle never ensured his immortality completely,” the headmaster began, “I fear that one of his followers could easily attempt to resurrect him.”

Severus shivered. “Which is why you had Sirius checking on the Malfoy library when he was spying on Narcissa,” he said, worry and fear evident in his dark eyes.

“Makes sense,” Sirius replied darkly, briefly reaching across the table to squeeze Tonks’ hand. “I don’t have to tell anyone how dark the Black family has been over the centuries. You did meet Great-Aunt Druella, didn’t you?”

Tonks swallowed, lowering her eyes at the direct mention of her maternal grandmother. “Yes, I unfortunately had the pleasure,” she said darkly. “She said more than once that I would have been a fine addition to the family, had I not been Half-Blood, or sorted Hufflepuff.”

“Both attributes from your father, who is a fine gentleman and upstanding wizard,” Severus put in, obviously quick to defend anyone who was willing to fight for the side of the Light. “I am sorry she put such a devastating weight upon the shoulders of a young child, although the Wizarding World is known for such things,” he said, looking over at the headmaster, his eyes full of protection.

“I love my husband,” Harry said softly from Hermione’s side.

“Danger could be lurking behind every corner, now more than ever,” Dumbledore informed the three surrounding him. “As such, I have a meeting scheduled with Kingsley and Alastor later this week.”

Tonks straightened up. “This can’t be about the wedding?” she asked.

Harry and Hermione looked at one another. “The wedding?!” they hissed at one another.

Dumbledore smiled kindly at the young Auror and shook his head. “Not that I know of, but I encourage you all to inform your spouses post-haste, as you’re all invited,” he explained in a patient manner, before turning serious again. “No. The main topic of my meeting with our esteemed Minister and Deputy Minister is this—to have emergency Portkeys made as soon as possible for the three of you, your spouses, and anyone you’ve requested to have one.”

Sirius straightened up at the man’s words. “Surely, it won’t come to that...”

“Nevertheless, it has to be done,” Dumbledore replied. “The remaining Death Eaters have been far too quiet for my liking.”

Severus, meanwhile, was staring down at the table. “What do you suggest we do then, Albus? I won’t have Harry making any more sacrifices...”

Sirius nodded firmly. “The same goes for Hermione.”

Tonks clasped her hands together. “And for Ron.”

“Nor am I suggesting it,” the headmaster said firmly. “However, I am going to have Minerva alter their schedules accordingly, so as they only take necessary classes.”

Sirius smirked, looking down at the table this time as he crossed his arms. “My Hermione won’t hear of it, because she thinks every class is necessary. She is the brightest witch of her age, after all,” he said proudly.

“I love my husband,” Hermione said dreamily beside Harry.

“I may have to call in a favor from the ministry for a Time-Turner if that’s the case, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Dumbledore said, pulling at his beard.

“Why the changes to the schedule, Albus?” Tonks asked him.

“Because we have to prepare them for their NEWTs,” Dumbledore said patiently.

Severus leaned forward at the man’s words. “That’s what they’re supposed to be doing as we speak,” the potions master said, obviously confused.

“I know that,” Dumbledore said calmly. “However, I want them to have their final examinations taken care of so that, if necessary, they can run at the first sign of danger.”

Sirius looked up. “It’s closer than we thought, isn’t it?” he asked softly. “You wouldn’t be wanting them to go through all this trouble if it wasn’t. Albus, what aren’t you telling us? This is my wife, my unborn child, my godson, my godson’s unborn child, my cousin, her husband and my wife and godson’s best friend, plus Severus, that we’re talking about here. What have we missed?” he asked, spreading his hands.

“The Trace of Underage Magic breaks at seventeen, a goal which the three of them have already achieved, so it can’t be that,” Tonks said softly.

“It’s got to be something far more complicated than that,” Severus told Tonks, before he turned and regarded the headmaster again. “Albus, please. Tell us what’s going on here.”

“I fear that, if Lucius, Bellatrix, or someone else manages to get into Malfoy Manor undetected, or if Narcissa manages to secret several dark tomes out of there, then they could perform a ritual, similar to that done in the graveyard during the final task of the Triwizard Tournament,” came the headmaster’s steady, yet soft, reply. “A resurrection ritual, at this point, would be dire, obviously, although there is an upside...”

“An upside?!” Severus demanded, launching himself to his feet, fire likely pumping through his veins at the headmaster’s train of thought. “How could there be an upside to Riddle coming back into our world?! He’s nothing but a deranged monster who made my husband’s life a living hell from the time he was fifteen months old! How could his return, even a potential one, mind you, possibly have an upside to it?!”

“Because,” the man said simply, staring up at Severus and ignoring the man’s outburst, “he no longer has a connection to Harry.”

Severus sputtered. “What?!”

“Think about it, Severus,” Sirius said, gently easing the man back into his chair, “Harry killed him once upon the Astronomy Tower.”

Severus huffed, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms. “And so?”

“And so,” Tonks continued, obviously having caught on, “Harry killed any connection he previously had to Riddle!”

Severus looked over at the headmaster. “Are you certain?” he breathed.

Dumbledore nodded in a grave manner. “I am. The prophecy said that Harry had to vanquish him, and that neither could live if the other survives. However, Harry already vanquished him in his previous form, a form that was bonded to him through blood. The only way they could possibly reanimate him is through use of his own wand, and dark ingredients, possibly some skin, all of which were destroyed when Harry killed him last June.”

“Let’s just hope that, if they do find skin, it’s not from his previous resurrection attempt,” Sirius said darkly.

“I was ordered to take skin samples from him regularly before I defected in 1981,” Severus said softly, wrinkling his nose with disgust, “for experimentation purposes. I’m quite positive Bellatrix knows where they are, and, as far as I know, they’re the only skin samples in existence.”

“Merlin, let’s hope,” Tonks said softly.

“How can Merlin possibly help us now?” Severus asked bitterly.

Sirius sighed, and turned to Dumbledore. “He leave any texts behind that you can think of that can help us here?”

Dumbledore smiled. “Perhaps ask your wife,” he replied, looking up at the wall that Harry and Hermione were currently hiding behind, and smiled at them, leading the pair of them to believe that he had known they were there the entire time. “After all, you’ve just informed us that she’s the brightest witch of her age.”

~*~

As her pregnancy progressed, Hermione continued to worry constantly about Ron and Tonks’s own lack of accomplishment in that area. Thankfully, Harry was there to confide in, for both accounts, and he seemed to be just as worried as she was. As time went on, winter ended, and with it, the snow melted and various flowers cropped up all throughout the Hogwarts grounds, as well as within the Forbidden Forest. Harry would delight Hermione with tales about accompanying Severus during weekends to harvest various ingredients, and Hermione was so pleased to see that the young man she considered her brother was so happy.

“How are the preparations for Easter going?” Sirius asked, breezing into the Head Girl rooms one Friday evening in March, and pressing a kiss onto her cheek.

“Fine,” Hermione told him, forcing a smile onto her lips, while stroking Crookshanks with one hand and writing her latest essay for Ancient Runes with the other. Although she didn’t subscribe to superstitions, the headmaster had asked that both she and Harry remain at the castle for the entire day, and Ron was given a room in a hidden chamber to accommodate Tonks. “Our esteemed headmaster is arranging for the Portkey, and Bill is on assignment for Gringotts to ensure that the wards are in place and up-to-date.”

Sirius nodded, stepping into the kitchenette and cobbling together a sandwich; he had gone all out in utilizing the space provided, and quite liked Hermione to ask him instead of Winky or Dobby to procure something if she had a craving. “Can I make you anything, love?” he asked her gently, while mixing together mustard and mayonnaise for his own sandwich.

Hermione pursed her lips, gazing down at her Ancient Runes essay; it was their final large assignment in the class before their NEWTs, and was due one week before the exam. There were little assignments here and there but, since she had informed Professor McGonagall about her intent to make it a NEWTs course for herself, she had already completed the others. “Yes,” she told him, knowing that she had gone as far with her first draft as she could, and packed away the rest of her assignments and such, knowing that she could work better during the weekend ahead, anyway. “I would love something.”

Sirius grinned at her. “Well,” he said, reaching into his trouser pocket and pulling out a carrier bag, which he made quick work of enlarging, “I stopped at Charity’s Cheesemonger’s & Convenience in Diagon,” he told her.

Hermione’s hands flew to her mouth, remembering the shop that had opened up just next door to Fred and George’s, and was run by their co-worker, Verity’s, twin sister, Charity. “I was so delighted when I heard that she wanted to open a shop. It was such a shame we couldn’t go for the grand opening at Christmastime,” she mused, watching as Sirius set the bag upon the island, and proceeded to remove its contents.

“Molly and Arthur were kind enough to give our excuses,” Sirius said with a small smile, and was particularly pleased to see that his wife looked so pleased at what he’d procured. “Charity and her husband, Dougal, are very proud of their shop. Once people understand the familial connection between the two of them, all they want to do is go to both.”

“And how is Jeremy?” Hermione asked, naming their little son.

“Jeremy is three-years-old now, believe it or not,” Sirius said fondly, “running about the place and already performing accidental magic. Charity’s mother and father, Temperance and Duncan, were going after him as fast as they could, so as not to potentially run off any customers.”

Hermione smiled wistfully as she got to her feet, caressing her belly. “I can’t wait until this one does amazing feats,” she mused, looking down at a cheese she had been particularly fond of since her admittance into the Wizarding World. “You remembered how much I liked Celestine’s,” she said softly, tracing her finger along the brick of aged cheddar.

“Too right, I did,” Sirius said, and pulled a second carrier bag out from his pocket and enlarged it, revealing it to be from Tesco’s, and that it was a bag of Spirali Pasta. “In addition to your favorite cheese and shape,” he said, and Hermione gasped with delight, “as you can see, I’ve also procured butter, evaporated milk, flour, garlic powder, and we already had salt and pepper. Can I interest my beautiful wife in some macaroni cheese?”

“Yes, my darling husband,” Hermione replied. “Won’t you join me?”

They ate together that night, with Sirius forgetting about his sandwich for the interim, and his kind wife informed him that they could pack a sandwich lunch for the following day, and perhaps invite Harry and Severus, plus Ron and Tonks, along. She was very pleased with Sirius’s efforts to behave around Severus, as well as accept his relationship, and marriage, to his one and only godson.

However, there was one thing she just couldn’t shake, and it worried her to no end. As the preparations for Easter continued as March went by, she wondered if something was just upon the horizon. Dumbledore hadn’t broken Harry and Hermione’s confidence, although he had told them that eavesdropping was not an attractive quality. However, both she and Harry were miffed that neither one of their husbands’, nor Ron’s wife, had informed them of the secret meeting of the Order of the Phoenix, nor had they told them of the discussion.

It was in the final week of March that the three of them were called into Professor McGonagall’s inner office after Transfiguration. It had been their final class that day, and all three were anxious to get to dinner, continue revising for their NEWTs, and do any assignments. Their Head of House rose slowly to her feet, and regarded them with an insurmountable sadness in he expression, and Hermione found that she looked much older in that moment.

“Mr. Weasley,” she said to Ron, after she had spelled the door shut and locked behind them, “I believe that now is an appropriate time to tell your friends your news.”

Ron turned red to his ears, but faced Hermione and Harry as they looked at him questioningly. “I went to the hospital wing with Tonks a few weeks ago,” he said softly. “Madam Pomfrey confirmed her pregnancy. She’s three months along, and Madam Pomfrey said it was all right to tell people now.”

“Oh, Ron, that’s wonderful!” Hermione crowed, throwing her arms around him first, before stepping back so that Harry could have his turn.

“Congratulations, mate,” Harry chirped.

“Thanks,” Ron said effusively, and he truly looked proud of himself. “Madam Pomfrey says we’re having a boy, and I can’t tell you how happy I am.”

“I am pleased to hear that as well, Mr. Weasley,” Professor McGonagall said, a small light of happiness in her eyes. “I trust you’ve informed your family?”

“Yeah, and Headmaster Dumbledore wasn’t right pleased to be booted to second-place,” Ron said with a laugh, and the Head of Gryffindor House appeared as if she was attempting not to laugh at that statement. “They’re all mad with joy.”

“They should be,” Harry said firmly.

“You’ll make a wonderful father, Ron,” Hermione told him.

“My sentiments exactly,” Professor McGonagall said with a nod. “However, I must inform the three of you of recent developments.”

“Developments?” Harry asked, looking unsure. “Is something wrong, professor?”

“Not as far as we know, as of yet, but we believe that Death Eater presence is mounting throughout Ireland,” came her reply with a shudder. “They are using abandoned Magdalene Laundries as hideouts, our sources say.”

“Magdalene what now?” Ron asked.

“Does that have something to do with religion?” Harry queried.

“Honestly, you two,” Hermione huffed, re-situating her bag onto her shoulder and smoothing her swollen belly, and was rewarded with an almighty kick for her efforts. “It was a despicable practice of the Catholic church throughout Ireland for over two hundred years, wherein young girls were effectively kidnapped from their families for being too promiscuous, which includes pre-marital sex, having a child out of wedlock, or merely just being a victim of circumstances. It was a rotten and inhumane thing to do, and people could do nothing, unless they escaped and found help, or if another family member saw fit to bring them out of it.”

“Blimey, all that was legal?” Ron whispered, and both his and Harry’s expressions were a combination of bewilderment and revulsion.

“Unfortunately so,” Professor McGonagall said darkly. “My father Robert, bless him, was a church-going man, a Presbyterian minister, but his practices and beliefs were far more liberal, and he believed in nurturing above all things.”

Harry raised his eyebrows. “You’re a Half-Blood, professor?” he asked, not accusingly, but, rather in a curious manner.

“Indeed, Mr. Potter-Snape,” the witch replied with a smile. “My dear mother, Isobel, hid her abilities from my father, until it was revealed that I, as well as my two younger brothers, were magical.” She looked far away for a moment, before she suddenly snapped to attention and cleared her throat as a means of calming herself. “Anyhow, the headmaster and I have agreed that the previously-mentioned safe houses would be a good idea.”

“What does that mean, professor?” Hermione asked.

“It means that you three will take your NEWTs before Easter,” she explained. “Harry and Severus will then go to their safe house immediately, with Horace Slughorn taking over for potions,” she said. “As for Ron and Tonks, you will be permitted to go to the Burrow, and Tonks will be placed on leave from the ministry. As for you, Mrs. Black,” she said, turning to Hermione with a look of sadness, “you and Sirius will still be permitted to go and see your mother and father in the Lake District. Take the time to say goodbye, before you will both be transported into your new homes and new identities.”

“New identities?” Ron demanded.

“Precisely, Mr. Weasley,” Professor McGonagall confirmed. “In addition to your NEWTs—no need to worry about smaller and inconsequential assignments now—you will also be meeting with dialect coaches.”

“A dialect coach?” Harry sputtered.

“Quite right, Mr. Potter-Snape,” she said with a nod. “As you three are being relocated to Australia, New Zealand, and to the United States, you will need to blend in as if you’re from there, and, as such, have been born and raised there.”

“Will we have to alter our appearances?” Hermione asked tentatively.

Professor McGonagall nodded approvingly at Hermione. “Mr. Weasley, Professor Snape, and Mr. Black will certainly be at liberty to do so,” she responded. “However, as you may or may not know, Polyjuice Potion has hazardous ingredients within it, which could compromise yours, Mr. Potter-Snape’s, and Mrs. Weasley’s pregnancies.”

“The bits of leeches could mold together within the potion, and suck the blood from the unaware fetus,” Hermione said, shuddering, as she and Harry automatically wrapped their arms around their expanding stomachs.

“Ten points to Gryffindor,” Professor McGonagall said with a tight smile. “Headmaster Dumbledore will have your new identities prepared—birth certificates, social security numbers and cards, not to mention marriage licenses.”

“But what about me and Severus?” Harry asked, shaking all over. “Gay marriage isn’t allowed in the Muggle world, although just relationships are certainly tolerated a lot more than they were centuries ago.” He bit his lip, his green eyes flashing with worry as he caressed his pregnant belly—at the end of his third month, he was definitely showing slightly, and would not be able to hide it much longer from strangers. “How are we to have a relationship, let alone cope with my pregnancy, in an area that wouldn’t understand?”

Professor McGonagall nodded. “Severus, too, has expressed concerns about that,” she told the three of them. “However, after much scouring, he has come across a non-invasive Glamour Charm that can be utilized on you without bringing harm to you or your child. It will cause your hair to lengthen, and give you the outward appearance of a young woman.”

“Is there a way to counteract it?” Harry asked, blushing slightly.

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat in an attempt not to laugh. “Yes. The wards of your home, which will have protective enchantments within them to be sure that no one untoward can come in, will wash away the spell. If you have company over, Muggle company, they can be applied again. Severus has thought of everything, Harry,” she said consolingly, and smiled down at him. “Don’t you worry.” She asked if the three had any further questions, before she excused them all to get ready for the evening meal.

Harry sighed, trudging along the corridor directly outside of the Transfiguration classroom. “I don’t know how I’m not supposed to worry...”

Hermione bit her lip. “Very true.”

Ron put his arms around them both. “This can’t last forever, you know. Someday, we’ll all be back together, here, in this thousand-year-old castle...”

“Except it won’t be our school anymore,” Harry said softly as they passed by a group of fourth-year Ravenclaw girls, chattering animatedly amongst themselves. “You heard what McGonagall said back there. We have to be ready to take our NEWTs before the Easter holidays...”

“What NEWTs are you planning on taking then, mate?” Ron asked.

Harry grumbled under his breath. “Potions, Defense, Care of Magical Creatures, Transfiguration, Herbology, Apparition, and History of Magic,” he replied.

“I’m taking all those, except for History of Magic,” Ron replied, turning to regard Hermione, who was clutching at her belly as they walked. “And you, Hermione?”

“All those, plus Ancient Runes, and Advanced Arithmancy,” she said softly, already thinking ahead, past the exams, as well as saying goodbye to her parents, and the life she had once known. She had known that, once she had accepted that she was a witch and would attend Hogwarts, that nothing would be the same. However, she never imagined it could be like this...

“Hermione?”

“What?” she asked, stumbling, and Ron immediately darted out and steadied her. “Sorry. I think I’m just a bit tired...”

“I know what you mean,” Harry sympathized.

Hermione sighed, adjusting her bag again. “Would you hate me if I begged off dinner in the Great Hall tonight? I want some quiet time to revise, and be with Crookshanks...”

“Not at all,” Ron assured her. “Just make sure you do eat. That little princess needs all the food she can get.”

Hermione tried her best to smile at Ron, but it turned out to be much more reminiscent of the gargoyle close by Dumbledore’s office. “Yes, well... I’ll do my best,” she said, squeezing Harry’s shoulder as she brushed past, and made her way towards the staircase.

At the end of the day, it was all she could do—do her best at keeping her head up before her NEWTs, during and after; saying goodbye to her mother and father for what she hoped wasn’t the last time; and finding anonymity with her husband, a world away. Once she reached the first landing, she leaned up against the stone wall of the castle, blinking back tears. Had she known that accepting her attendance at Hogwarts would have led to this, giving up everything she had ever known, she wondered, just for a moment, if she would re-think that decision.

Notes:

(1) These ingredients are what I use in my own macaroni and cheese. Let me know if you would like the recipe!

(2) The Magdalene Laundries are, unfortunately, quite real; it always makes me cry whenever I consider them, so I thought it would be good to add them as a Death Eater association, even in the Muggle world. The first was opened and established in 1767, and last one did not close until 1996. Check out Joni Mitchell’s song, “The Magdalene Laundries” for a heartbreaking look into them.

Chapter 8: Tomorrow You’ll Be Worlds Away

Notes:

Hi, me again! Now that I have a general idea of where this story is going (you will notice that the chapter count has been established) I am deeply hoping that updates will be more regular.

Chapter Text

Hermione did her best to focus on her NEWTs resolution, now that the end was truly in sight, and Sirius didn’t want to bother her, it seemed. She felt the weight of the unspoken tension between them, and wondered who would be the first to crack. As March ended and as April was about to dawn, no such thing had happened, and Hermione knew that this constant stress simply wouldn’t do for her pregnancy.

“Things are progressing normally,” Madam Pomfrey informed her, on the night before the three days that she, Ron, and Harry would be taking their NEWTs examinations. “Your daughter is still getting bigger by the day and, as you can see, is now the size of a bell pepper. Oh,” the mediwitch went on as she stared at the gritty screen, “and, just there, her fallopian tubes are formed and in place accordingly.”

Hermione wrinkled her nose. “I’ve never been a fan of bell pepper,” she replied. “But, as for the rest, that’s wonderful news.”

Madam Pomfrey smiled down at Hermione before cancelling the picture above them. “And how have things been, then?” she asked. “You mentioned your morning sickness has tapered off almost to nothing?”

Hermione nodded at that. “Yes. It usually flares up if I smell certain things, but, if I keep away from them, or remove myself from the tainted environment, it goes away.”

“Very good,” Madam Pomfrey replied, pulling up a chair. “So, Minerva informed me just last evening that you, Harry, and Ron are to be leaving us.”

“Yes, with everyone for the Easter holidays, and then we won’t be returning to Hogwarts, or the Wizarding World, for the foreseeable future,” Hermione told the mediwitch. “Sirius and I have been assigned to stay in Australia.”

Madam Pomfrey raised her eyebrows. “Oh, I see. Have you any idea which part yet?”

“Freycinet,” Hermione reported, eyes glowing. “I’ve already gotten numerous books on the subject, and have been looking into healers there.”

“I’ve an old friend, a witch, who is a healer in Australia—Zara Weaving,” Madam Pomfrey informed the young witch. “I could easily send her a letter and introduce the two of you. I’m quite positive that Albus would want you, Harry, and Tonks to keep a healer apprised. Only Severus, I’m afraid, has proper medical knowledge, while Sirius’s and Ron’s have merely an elementary understanding of the subject.”

Hermione smiled, seeing no need to defend her husband so harshly in this moment. “That may be the case, but Sirius’s defense skills are amazing. I feel completely safe with him.”

“Yes, he was always quite excellent in the subject, and the fact that you are both Animagi will certainly prove to be beneficial,” Madam Pomfrey told her. “Shall I contact Healer Weaving on your behalf, dear?”

Hermione nodded. “I think an introduction would do just fine.”

Hermione was feeling a bit better after her appointment with Madam Pomfrey, and returned to her Head Girl rooms immediately afterwards. She knew that Daphne Greengrass, due to her marks being just behind Hermione’s, would be instated as Head Girl upon the return from the Easter holidays. Daphne and Hermione had spoken, and Hermione told her how to talk to Athena so as her boyfriend, Blaise Zabini, could sneak into the room after hours.

Returning to the room itself, along with a quick greeting to Athena, Hermione sat down upon the couch, and Crookshanks immediately ran into the room and hopped up beside her. Stroking him in an absentminded manner, she quickly summoned her books and things towards her, and took a look at her examination schedule. Tomorrow, she would have charms, Ancient Runes, and Transfiguration; Thursday, potions, History of Magic, and Advanced Arithmancy; and, on Friday, Care of Magical Creatures, Defense, and Apparition.

Once her final exam had been taken, she would then go to the headmaster’s courtyard, where the wards were different than any other Hogwarts location. The headmaster would hand them each their individual Portkeys, and she and Sirius would be off to the location of their home away from home in Tasmania. She knew that Ron and Tonks would be staying in a place called Aspen, a luxurious area of Colorado, while Harry and Severus would be journeying to a part of New Zealand called Queenstown. Each had been given a new identity, met with a dialect coach, and had been given a backstory.

Hermione and Sirius were, from the moment they arrived in Australia, to be known as Marcus and Freya Clare, newlyweds who had just purchased a luxury hotel. A bit of Obliviation would go on in the area surrounding the hotel, so that the Muggle townsfolk wouldn’t be suspicious of their sudden arrival. It would help considerably that the employees at the hotel had also had their minds altered, just to ensure that they could cover up Hermione and Sirius’s pasts.

Harry and Severus would be settling into a beautiful home in Queenstown, New Zealand, under the pseudonyms of Mason and Ava Graham, on a long honeymoon. The headmaster had given them a contact in town, Rangi Arona, a Maori healer, to whom Severus could easily make potions for, so as to benefit the wizarding healthcare system. Harry, going by Ava, could do virtually anything he wanted, but flying was definitely out, despite the wards, mainly due to his pregnancy.

As for Ron and Tonks, going by Eli and Gemma Foxworth, they were also newlyweds. Their story was that they had married quickly after Tonks’s pregnancy had become apparent. They had escaped a religious cult, and were not working with authorities. They just wanted a quiet life together, away from the treachery and pain of their pasts, and simply wanted to move forward with the new family that they were building together.

Hermione leaned back on the couch and closed her eyes; there was only so much revision she could even try to accomplish at this point. She had been revising for the exams ever since her OWLs, not to mention the fact that her great escape with Sirius from the British Isles was on the horizon. She hadn’t been apart from Harry and Ron, apart from a few weeks during school holidays, due to her mother and father’s penchant for skiing, for more than a few weeks at a time. It was truly a daunting experience to consider, and she was hanging on by a thread.

Sirius came and joined her a few moments later, and they had steaks, jacket potatoes, and a Caesar salad for their dinner that evening, with Crookshanks eagerly hoping for one of them to drop a piece of meat. Hermione permitted him to hold her that night once they were in bed, and did her best to try to sleep. She knew that the Death Eaters must be planning something terrible, otherwise she, Harry, and Ron wouldn’t be sent away with their spouses. Surely, she reasoned, they would be informed of just what that was, for if the threat was so great, they would need to be kept within the loop.

She was barely able to concentrate on her exams for the next three days, and she altogether hated herself for it. Charms, Ancient Runes, Advanced Arithmancy, and History of Magic were all written examinations, so at least she wouldn’t have to talk, apart from bidding Professors Flitwick, Babbling, Vector, and Binns a final farewell throughout the days. Transfiguration, potions, Care of Magical Creatures, Defense, and Apparition were all practical examinations, and she did her best to prepare for all of them.

In Transfiguration, she, Harry, and Ron had the difficult task of transforming a Golden Signet into a Golden Snitch. Hermione believed the practice to be a barbaric one, especially due to the fact that Quidditch no longer used the creature. Professor McGonagall informed the trio that, even though the Golden Signet would be transfigured, it would only be so temporarily, and would not feel any effects of the spell. Grudgingly, all three managed the charm, and Professor McGonagall encouraged them to transfigure them back. Once completed, they were free to go, with Professor McGonagall wishing them all the best in the world.

The next time the trio met up, they headed down to the dungeons to complete their final potions exam. Harry had whispered to them that Horace Slughorn would be giving them the exam, as Severus’s involvement would be considered a severe conflict of interest. Hermione and Ron understood this, and as they entered the classroom, a portly man with silvery hair greeted them enthusiastically, shaking all their hands and gesturing towards the cauldrons, which had been spaced out for them on three separate tables.

“Today, the three of you will be brewing a Draught of Living Death, which can be found on page ten of your books,” said Slughorn, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione immediately dove into their bags and regarded their texts. “Don’t push and shove when you go into the supply cabinet to gather your ingredients, please. Once that’s done, you have the rest of our exam time to complete the potion. Best of luck to you three.”

Hermione ventured towards the supply cabinet, with Harry and Ron at their heels. As they gathered their ingredients, she felt a great tug upon her robes. Turning around, she saw that their professor was distracted, and Harry was in desperate need of telling them both something.

“What is it?” she hissed. “I don’t want to get into trouble, Harry...”

“Blimey, Hermione, let the man talk,” Ron muttered back.

“Just two things,” Harry whispered patiently. “Severus told me that you have to crush the Sopophorous Beans—”

No,” Hermione countered, ever the perfectionist, as she held up her text, “the instructions specifically say to cut.”

“I think Snape knows better than we do, or a silly old book does, Hermione,” Ron informed her patiently with a shake of his head, and turned back to Harry. “Anything else, mate?”

“You have to crush the bean with a silver dagger,” Harry continued, as if he hadn’t been interrupted by an ever-knowing Hermione, “and you have to add a clockwise stir after every seventh counterclockwise stir.”

Hermione’s mouth set into a frustrated line. “All right...”

“Oh!” Harry said, bouncing on his heels. “And you need thirteen beans, not twelve. Trust me on this, ‘Mione. Severus wants us all to do well.”

Hermione and Ron followed Harry’s instructions from Severus to the letter and, much to their surprise, the amended instructions worked perfectly. She was relieved that Professor Slughorn didn’t seem any the wiser, and simply informed them that one drop from each of their potions—separately, mind you—would kill them all.

The final day of examinations, the trio would be together for the penultimate time, before they gathered in the headmaster’s courtyard to fetch their Portkeys. The first exam was at eight o’clock that morning, and Hagrid was waiting for them in the sun-splashed section of the Forbidden Forest, just behind his hut. It was a source of great joy for Harry and Ron when they rounded the bend, and saw Buckbeak for the first time in Merlin knows how long.

“Sirius brought him here yesterday morning,” Hermione informed them, and the pair of them seemed very excited. “Harry can’t have the only spouse with secrets, can he?”

“Headmaster Dumbledore said tha’ we could review Hippogriffs,” Hagrid explained as they journeyed closer into Buckbeak’s midst. “Now tha’ Beaky’s been pardoned, I can ‘ave ‘im back on th’ grounds with me again, where ‘e belongs.”

“What kind of review, Hagrid?” Ron wanted to know.

“This review, Ron, is going to be abou’ Hippogriff manners, as you remember tha’ they’re very proud creatures.”

Hagrid demonstrated the bowing, and then Buckbeak inevitably gave the half-giant permission to pet him. Once that happened, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were permitted to go through the motions themselves, and were all quite pleased with the situation. However, both Harry and Hermione stood back when the prospect of riding him was presented, although Ron seemed about ready to jump at the opportunity.

“I’ve spoken to Madam Pomfrey,” Hagrid told Harry and Hermione patiently, his eyes alight with excitement. “She says that the two of yer can ride ‘im. Buckbeak knows ‘ow to be gentle.”

When it was Hermione’s turn, she permitted Hagrid to lift her gently and place her upon the soft feathers upon the Hippogriff’s back. She smoothed them down, and the impressive creature chortled at the physical praise. Hagrid lightly smacked the Hippogriff on his rump then, and Buckbeak knew that this would be a gentle ride. Gently taking ahold of Buckbeak’s neck, Hermione’s heart entered her throat as the Hippogriff began charging around the space, and lifted off into the air.

Hermione looked around the Hogwarts grounds as the mighty Hippogriff spread his wings and took off into the air. It was altogether a much better than the time she and Harry, and then she, Harry, and Sirius, had ridden him, back at the end of their third-year. At that time, they were literally in a race against time to save two innocent lives. Now, Buckbeak was flying blissfully over the impressive grounds of Hogwarts, seemingly without a care in the world. It was a beautiful sunny day, although not too warm, and Hermione appreciated the feel of the warm light dancing upon her skin.

Hermione lowered her eyes to her swollen belly and caressed it carefully. “What do you think, my love?” she whispered, a wave of calm falling over her. “Enjoying the flight?” She gazed out and looked over the expanse of Hogwarts, the grounds, the Quidditch pitch, and the Black Lake, and sighed. “Perhaps one day we can recreate this moment, when you’re a bit older, and with your father here...my beautiful Victorianna Seraphina Black,” she said softly, the name having come to her over the last few days, and she knew, deep down, that this was the one she’d been searching for.

As Buckbeak gently drifted back downwards to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, Hermione was quick to thank Hagrid for the opportunity. It wasn’t like her to let loose and just have fun; she was usually far too busy for that. Now, however, as darkness threatened their safety and their very lives, it was a wonderful change of pace.

Still with Defense and Apparition to take care of for their NEWTs, Hermione, Harry, and Ron drifted back up the hill and back into the school. Mad-Eye Moody had been filling in as Defense instructor ever since second-term had begun in earnest, and would be giving them their practical examination, which Harry was positive would have something to do with the Patronus Charm. Both he and Hermione had been checked over by Madam Pomfrey prior to their examinations, and the good healer had informed them of what was and wasn’t appropriate when it came to their exams. It was good that the professors were on the same page as well.

Stepping into the Defense classroom, the trio greeted Mad-Eye, who gruffly told them to listen to the headmaster later and, above all, to stay put. “No matter what you hear about on our end,” he growled, “I don’t want you three coming back here to save everyone. You’ve done enough of risking your necks for the good of the Wizarding World.”

Harry straightened up then, cradling his belly. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he told him. “Can you tell us, sir, what we’ll be doing today?”

Mad-Eye grinned. “Always straight to the point, Potter. I like that.”

“Potter-Snape,” Harry said, flashing him a similar grin.

“Quite right. Now, then,” the man said, facing all three of them, “it appears that Mr. Potter-Snape’s guess was correct—we will indeed be doing Patronus Charms.”

Ron grinned, already taking out his wand. “Can we start now?” he asked.

Mad-Eye nodded. “Of course, Mr. Weasley. Tonks says you’ll make a fine recruit one day, and confidence is a key factor when it comes right down to it. Go ahead.”

Ron held his wand aloft then, and Mad-Eye quickly maneuvered both Harry and Hermione backwards and behind him, clearing the great wooden desks to either side of the room with an almighty swing of his hand. Ron, meanwhile, held his posture perfectly, and uttered, “Expecto Patronum!” and the silvery light flew from his wand, turning white in mid-air as it took shape.

“Merlin,” Harry and Hermione whispered together.

“Spectacular,” Mad-Eye proclaimed.

Ron watched, fascinated as the creature took shape, and the four of them stared, open-mouthed, as it did not morph into a Jack Russell Terrier. Instead, a great wolverine came prowling about and advanced upon Ron, who immediately lowered his wand. The creature stepped forth, and pressed its nose into Ron’s offered hand, before staring at him for a moment, and then disappeared before him.

“An excellent animal, Mr. Weasley,” Mad-Eye told him, before he turned to Harry. “Well, Mr. Potter-Snape? Will you dazzle us next?”

Harry nodded, and permitted Hermione to squeeze his hand before he moved to switch places with Ron. Removing his wand from the inner sleeves of his robes, he cried out, “Expecto Patronum!” and the three wizards and one witch watched, entranced, as the Patronus took shape, and it was not a stag.

“No Prongs?” Ron asked, and Harry shook his head.

“That’s an African Golden Cat,” Hermione breathed, clearly enchanted with it. “Mum and Dad took me to the Netherlands the summer after our first-year, and they had one at the Rotterdam Zoo. Such beautiful creatures,” she went on, and the cat turned around after greeting Harry to do the same to Hermione, rubbing its face onto her outstretched hand. “Of course, we weren’t permitted to pet the poor thing... I think it was ill...”

“Mrs. Black,” Mad-Eye said after a few moments of silence, “would you be willing to perform your Patronus for the three of us?”

Hermione flashed the man a smile. “It would be my pleasure,” she replied, and ventured out into the floor where Ron had stood, and removed her wand from its hidden holder upon her inner sleeve. “Expecto Patronum!” came her shout.

Everyone gasped aloud as Hermione’s black wolfdog came out to play, landing easily onto the stone floor, before tipping its head back to howl silently. Bracing herself, she stood her ground, and the creature promptly turned around before bowing to her, and pressing its celestial forehead into her swollen midsection. Tears sprang to Hermione’s eyes as her Patronus literally blessed her child, before it faded into nothingness.

“Incredible, Mrs. Black,” Mad-Eye told her, and Hermione blushed.

“Thank you,” she replied.

“I think I speak for the entirety of the Ministry of Magic when I say that the three of you are very gifted at Defense,” he said proudly, crossing his arms.

Hermione spotted something gold upon his finger. “That’s lovely,” she remarked.

The former Auror and Deputy Minister of Magic lowered his eye to where Hermione had indicated, and absentmindedly twisted the ring there. “Yes. Kings and I wanted a proper bonding ceremony, with all our loved ones, but we believed it was inappropriate right about now. We were married over the weekend.”

“I hope you have a long and happy life together, Alastor,” Hermione said, greatly daring in using his first name.

The man gave her one of his twisted smiles. “I love him more than anything, Hermione. I can’t thank Merlin enough that he loves me, too.”

After the Ministry of Magic’s appointed Apparition instructor completed the trio’s exam, the three of them journeyed to the Headmaster’s Tower together. Sirius, Severus, and Tonks had been instructed to gather their things and meet them there beforehand. When they arrived in the courtyard, via a secret door in the headmaster’s quarters, they went through their goodbyes, not knowing when they would see one another again.

The headmaster waited for the goodbyes to end before he produced three very different objects to the three of them. To Ron and Tonks, he presented a leg from an old chair; to Harry and Severus, a miniature rocking horse; and to Sirius and Hermione, a battered teacup. Once each item was given to its proper couple, the headmaster spoke. “Once activated, these Portkeys will take you directly to your destination. However, they can be only activated once. You will use them on Monday, the thirteenth of April, exactly ten days from now. From here, Severus and Harry will go to the small property in Devon, so as to spend time with the Weasleys. Tonks and Ron will go to the Burrow, and Hermione and Sirius will go to the Lake District to her parents’ holiday cottage. Each safe house will be on the Floo Network, with the fireplaces in the master bedroom suite the only ones of use, due to privacy. You will be permitted to send letters to anyone permitted inside the wards, but no one else. Are there any questions?”

Everyone shook their heads.

The headmaster nodded, and inclined his head, as if listening for something. “Ah, there. The time has come for you to partake in your Easter plans. Go forth, all of you.”

Hermione clung to Sirius, holding up her hand to her two best friends, their spouses, and her now former headmaster. Holding her husband tightly, with Crookshanks and Valentina sharing a box tucked beneath her arm, they cracked away from the courtyard. She was pleased that she did not land with an almighty thump in her bedroom at her parents’ cottage, and changed the bed size so as both she and Sirius could fit into it.

“Ready?” she asked, looking up at him, watching as Sirius easily unlatched the box, and both Crookshanks and Valentina darted out from it and underneath the now larger bed.

“I suppose we have to be,” her husband replied.

~*~

The house in the Lake District usually permitted Hermione relaxation, which she knew she needed in the wake of finishing her final examinations. Now, her main priority was tending to her pregnancy, as well as being a good wife to Sirius. However, she fretted saying goodbye to her mother and father, and so the typical relaxation phase of the Easter holiday never came. Even the roast chicken on the Sunday, which was, of course, delicious, did not ease her feelings.

Once she and Sirius bade both her parents a final farewell, they activated the Portkey and vanished from the cottage and into the luxurious hotel they were now the proud keepers of. It was a bit unsteady, Portkeying in an international fashion, but Madam Pomfrey assured her that with plenty nutrient potions and rest, she would be just fine. Looking around, it was dark outside, as it was wintertime and after eight o’clock in their new home.

“Well, then,” Sirius said, easily letting Crookshanks and Valentina out of their box again, and the pair immediately darted underneath the bed once more, “I think that we should take a tour of this place, have some dinner, and then have an early night.”

Hermione gave her husband a relieved smile; due to her worrying, she hadn’t been sleeping well the last few days. “You read my mind,” she replied.

The pair inevitably ended up in the kitchen, which Sirius was relieved to find to be fully stocked with provisions for themselves and the hotel itself. “The family who’s on staff here goes shopping regularly,” he explained, getting out ingredients for burgers and chips, which Hermione had been craving recently.

“Who are they again?” Hermione asked, her mind having previously filled with smart tips to ensure good marks on her NEWTs.

Sirius smiled indulgently at his wife. “Jack and Olivia Lacey, along with their children, Bella, who’s your age, and their triplet sons, Leo, Liam, and Lucas.”

Hermione tried her best not to smirk at their son’s names. “Well, I suppose that they favor the letter ‘L’ in their family,” she mused, hopping up onto the counter and leaning up against the fridge, appreciating the coolness on her back.

Sirius chuckled. “Yes, I suppose they do,” he replied, looking through the various pantries and the fridge to be sure he’d found everything. “What do you want on yours love?” he asked, and stepped towards her, allowing her legs to cradle him against her.

Hermione leaned forward and placed her palms upon his shoulders. “Cheddar cheese, mayonnaise, and pickle chips,” she replied.

Sirius smiled at her. “Sounds delicious.”

Hermione trembled at his hands on her, which were now placed upon her waist, and his eyes, which were dark and hungry. “You would never lie to me, would you?”

Sirius blinked. “Why would you ask me that?”

Hermione sighed, pulling her lower lip into her mouth and gripping it between her teeth. “I... I should tell you that Harry and I utilized a rare portal to look into the headmaster’s office. We saw you, all of you, in an order meeting...”

Sirius sighed, lowering his eyes. “Hermione...”

“You’ve been spying!” she cried out, her voice trembling as her eyes filled with tears.

“It’s for the Greater Good...”

“I could give a rat’s arse about the Greater Good!” Hermione shot back. “The point is that you lied to me! You never told me what the headmaster was making you do! And I don’t care how willing you were—the point is that you told me one thing when you were, in fact, doing another, all behind my back!”

Sirius broke away from her then, and moved to stare out the window. “I knew you would react this way, so that’s why I didn’t tell you.”

Hermione jumped down from the counter with a small thump. “I’m reacting this way because you didn’t tell me, not about the spying, although I don’t appreciate being the last to know that my husband—my husband—who I am completely in love with, who is also the father of my daughter, lied to me!”

Sirius stiffened at that. “Albus wanted...”

“I know you look up to him, Sirius, and see him as a perfect man,” Hermione said, her voice softer this time, “but, at the end of the day, he’s still a man. Granted, he’s the greatest sorcerer in the world, but I’m your wife. I want this war to be over and done with as much as you do, but I can’t help you if you don’t tell me anything.”

Sirius turned around and faced her. “You are doing everything you can—”

“I’ll not be made to be barefoot and pregnant and utterly useless!” Hermione snapped. “Even Dumbledore says I’m the brightest witch of my age, and that’s got to account for something! I may be pregnant, and a part of a new prophecy, Sirius Black, but that doesn’t make me some incompetent girl you married who’s utterly incapable of—!”

Sirius crossed the room then, and slammed Hermione against the opposite wall, anchoring his mouth to hers. He shuddered against her as she mewled into his mouth, and reached down to yank at her skirt and tights. “No more secrets,” he whispered.

Hermione’s eyes flew open as she felt the movements of his hands, and immediately reached out and yanked at her husband’s close. “Swear,” she whispered.

Sirius nodded. “I’ll even submit to an Unbreakable Vow—”

“No!” Hermione cried out, and pushed the man away from her. “You’re my husband, and I love you, but we have to trust each other.”

Sirius sighed, and nodded his head. “You’re absolutely right. No more secrets,” he said softly, and tangled his hands with hers. “You can’t know how sorry I am for hurting you. I know that it would kill me to lose you...”

“It would kill me to lose you, too,” Hermione told him, pulling him towards her again. “The thought of being without you, it’s incomprehensible.”

“I really have to learn to consider the bigger picture here,” Sirius said softly, and maneuvered one of his wife’s hands, so that they could both cup her swollen belly. “I would hate for our daughter to enter an unsafe world, or one without the two of us.”

“Hey,” Hermione said softly, reaching out and tilting his chin up, “that’s not going to happen anytime soon.”

“How do we know that, though?” he asked. “How can we possibly know what tomorrow will bring, when it comes to war?”

“We can’t,” Hermione said simply with a small shake of her head. “We can’t know what tomorrow will bring. That’s why they call it war—it’s where the world is turned upside down and families and beliefs have the capability of being completely torn apart. Even though we don’t know what tomorrow will bring, Sirius, I do know that right here, right now, we’re completely safe.”

“You have faith in the wards?”

Hermione sighed, her shoulders dropping. “I have to, don’t I?” she asked him. “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be putting hope towards the victory that we’re all hoping for. And that victory,” she said, pressing his hands to her stomach again, “is coming. I have to believe it’s coming, because, otherwise, this fulfillment of the prophecy will have been for nothing.”

Sirius gently pulled her forward, pressing his lips repeatedly up and down her neck. “At the end of things, Hermione Jean Black, I can tell you this—I love you. I will always love you. I have never loved anyone as much as I love you, and it is without a doubt that I ever will.” Pulling back, he gazed into her eyes. “I will never claim to be a perfect man, Hermione, let alone a perfect wizard, but I can try to be. And, in doing so, I will try my damnedest never to lie to you ever again.”

Hermione slowly smiled up at him. “You are far from perfect, Sirius, but that is only because perfection is a falsehood—it does not exist in any plane. And even if it did, you would still fall short, because I wouldn’t want someone who was perfect. I want someone who will be there for me though thick and thin, who will love me and my family, as well as the one we will create together, not to mention someone who can put up with me being a know-it-all. That person is you, Sirius Black, and it’s always been you, and will always be you.”

Sirius’s dark blue eyes filled with tears then, as he moved to unbutton Hermione’s blouse, and discarded it onto the floor. He said nothing as he traced the planes of her swollen belly, heavy with their child, and mentally praised the beauty of her pure white skin. His eyes and gestures did the communication for him, as Hermione’s did for her, as they stripped one another, and Sirius gently laid Hermione out upon the kitchen island, with the various dinner ingredients scattered about her head.

“Oh, Hermione,” Sirius whispered at last, and slowly sank into her velvet heat.

Hermione’s eyes rolled upwards and into her head. “Oh, Sirius,” she moaned.

Sirius set a rhythmic pace, one that could give them both pleasure, but not one that would bring any harm to their child. For that was the last thing he wanted, to bring harm to either Hermione or their daughter. She was fiery, passionate, intelligent, charismatic, stubborn, wonderful, and beautiful, and Sirius could never get enough of her. The thought of being parted from her was not an option, and he vowed that he would never fail her again.

“Oh, my god!” Hermione squealed at that moment, just as Sirius hit a wonderful spot deep inside her, and her walls clamped down, hard, around his swollen member.

Sirius grunted then, spilling himself inside his wife, and immediately pulled her into his arms, feeling her shaking as hard as he was. Pulling back so he could take in her flushed, beautiful face, he felt something ignite from within him as she smiled at him, and he immediately smiled back. “I love you,” he whispered.

Hermione smiled at him. “I love you, too,” she said softly back. “No more secrets?”

“No more secrets,” he confirmed.

Hermione smiled at her husband, but something caught her eye then, and she gasped. Letting herself down from the kitchen island and waving a Cleaning Charm at them both, she ventured towards the door of the kitchen and threw it open. “Sirius,” she whispered, as snow began falling onto the grounds of the hotel.

Sirius watched as his wife ran out of the kitchen then, laughing gleefully as if she was a young woman never touched by any atrocities, as snow fell into her hair, creating the illusion that there were pearls settling there. Sirius immediately flew out the door after her, as naked as she was, and grabbed ahold of her around her waist, his laugh comingling with her own, as he spun her around and around.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Hermione cried, the words spilling from her lips, as Sirius stared up at the definition of perfection in his arms.

“Yes, it is,” her husband replied, not even looking at the beauty of the landscape around them, for his mind was already made up on what the beauty truly was.

Chapter 9: Feast or Famine

Chapter Text

Hermione and Sirius were up early the following morning so as to greet the Lacey family, who were known to be punctual in their own arrival times. Hermione tugged at the long-sleeved, knee length burgundy dress she was wearing; as Freya Clare, she was five-feet-six inches tall, and was now five-feet-eight because of the formal boots she was wearing. Her long, silky and wavy black hair and thick lashes completed the ensemble, but she had retained her milk-white skin and her deep brown eyes.

“I’d know you as my wife anywhere,” Sirius reported, coming up behind her. Sirius himself was dressed in smart-casual, with charcoal-gray wool trousers, a white button-down, and a dark gray vest made from native Australian sheep, and a new pair of black Oxfords that Hermione had surprised him with over Christmas. Taking Hermione by the hand, he smiled at her; he now had medium-brown hair which was a generous length, and combed back along his head; his skin was tanned, as if kissed by the sun; his eyes were an attractive sea-green color, and the only recognizable quality of her husband was the feeling behind those eyes.

“I’m so glad that I know you well,” Hermione told him, straightening out his vest. “If I didn’t, you would just be another handsome gentleman on the street.”

The duo headed downstairs and went to fetch their feline companions, knowing that they should meet the employees of the hotel as soon as possible. They fed them their breakfast, and spoke quietly to one another, knowing that introductions would be made quite soon. When the Lacey’s arrived, both Hermione and Sirius had managed to calm down Crookshanks and Valentina accordingly, and gave a smile to their new employees.

Jack was thirty-nine-years old and still had dark hair, which, combined with his silvery eyes and charismatic attitude, made him a very handsome man. He had a stylish beard, and a long, straight nose, and seemed to be utterly devoted to his wife and children. Olivia was thirty-six, and had long, red hair, and sparkling blue eyes. She was of a willowy build, which she obviously maintained quite well, despite the birth of four children, three at the same time.

Bellalina Lacey, who went by Bella, was eighteen and seemed to be nothing like Sirius’s cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange, despite their shared initials and nickname. Bella had pale skin and red hair, looking like a miniature version of her mother, but her eyes belonged to her father. She had a curved figure and wore lovely clothes, and seemed altogether enchanted with Valentina and Crookshanks immediately, letting Hermione know that she would love helping her with them, as well as recommending her some books. Hermione caught her eye then, feeling something from the young girl, and pulled her aside, as Sirius met Leo, Liam and Lucas.

“You’re a witch,” Hermione said, her tone not accusing.

Bella sighed and nodded. “Yes, a Muggleborn,” she responded, peeking over and looking at her family. “They’re quite supportive, Mum and Dad are, but the boys were so disappointed that they didn’t get to become wizards... You and Marcus, you’re a witch and wizard, aren’t you?”

Hermione smiled at Bella, knowing that, if she trusted her, eventually she’d tell the fellow young woman their real names. “We are, yes. I just took my NEWTs from Hogwarts, and Marcus graduated from there himself some time ago.”

“I went to Koldovstoretz, the Russian school,” Bella explained quietly. “There is no set school for witches and wizards around here, so when I got an acceptance from them, I jumped at the opportunity to see more of the world. It was wonderful; I finished myself last June, just before my eighteenth birthday.”

“Is it true that you utilize uprooted trees instead of broomsticks to play Quidditch?” Hermione asked. “I read about it in Hogwarts: A History.”

Bella gleamed at the direct mention of her school. “It is true; Koldovstoretz: A Knowing is quite similar; it mentioned how your staircases move and change at the Scottish castle.” She shrugged her shoulders. “My boyfriend was Quidditch Captain for his house team; he graduated two years before I did.”

“Is he from here as well?” Hermione asked.

“No, which was quite refreshing, to tell you the truth,” Bella said, as Hermione took her into the small, private parlor, which she intended to make into a library and sitting room for herself, Sirius, and the staff. “Valdemārs Irbe, I call him Mars... Well, he’s from a Pureblood family and is from Latvia, Zemgale,” she explained, naming the southern portion of the country. “He’s got three beautiful sisters, all magical, naturally—Anna, Iveta, and Dace—who are all extraordinary in their own right, of course. Anna and Iveta were five and three years ahead of me at Koldovstoretz, while Dace and I were in the same year, and the same house. We became best friends, and the reason how Mars and I became involved was that he needed some assistance when it came to the Potions DHOLEs; of course, I was hard at work on my BEARs at the time, but I couldn’t say no to someone as sweet as he was...”

Hermione blinked. “I’m sorry—the what?”

Bella blinked, and immediately shook her head. “Oh, I am sorry, you must call them something else at Hogwarts. Well, in our fifth-year, we have the BEARs, or the Brutally Exerting Atrocious Reviews. Finally, in our seventh-year, we must complete the DHOLEs, or the Dreadfully Harrowing Obnoxious Lackadaisical Exams,” she said with a smile. “Anyhow, Potions has always been my best subject—I entered the Wizarding Schools Potion Championship my sixth-year, and I placed third...” Bella seemed to have a thought then, because she visibly perked up and grinned at Hermione. “You must have had Potions Master Severus Snape!” she cried out, and clapped her hands in excitement.

Hermione smiled at Bella. “We did, yes,” she confirmed with a nod. “He was Head of Slytherin House, though, and I was a Gryffindor. Although I was typically marked high in his class, he was never particularly fond of my house,” she said, smiling up at Sirius when he stepped inside with a tray of tea and biscuits. “Oh, darling, you shouldn’t have to...”

“Oh, yes, I should,” Sirius replied, kissing her temple. “Although Bella is reportedly an excellent worker,” he went on, pleased when Bella immediately sat forward and began pouring them both cups of tea, “she was mainly kept her as company for you.”

“Kept here?” Hermione asked, her eyes swiveling to Bella, who flashed her a smile.

“I’ll leave you both to it,” Sirius said, pressing another kiss to Hermione’s temple, and shut the door behind them.

Bella, once she’d finished pouring their tea, set down the pot and reached into her sleeve, pulling out her wand. “Beech, fourteen and one quarter inches, unicorn tail hair, unyielding,” she informed Hermione, who was gazing at it. She waved her wand at the door, before returning the long stem of wood into her sleeve, and gazed at Hermione. “No more need of Freya here,” she informed her, and Hermione shifted uncomfortably.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she whispered, wanting to Apparate out of there right then, and taking her child to safety.

“It’s all right, the phoenix called,” Bella informed her with a smile, and Hermione gasped at the secret coded message the headmaster had given them before they left. “Headmaster Dumbledore contacted my own, Headmistress Polivanova, just weeks after the evacuation plan was set into motion,” she said quietly. “He asked her if there was a student, a seventh-year or above, who would be capable of being by your side. She immediately recommended me, due to my expertise in potions, languages, and my similarities to you with efficiency for magic,” she told her. “You needed a proper link to the Wizarding World, without the Death Eaters or their followers being any the wiser. As we speak, Ron and Tonks are getting a contact from Ilvermorny, the American Wizarding School, while Harry and Severus already have Rangi Amora.” She gave Hermione a careful smile. “While this is, for me, a perquisite to get into the Russian Reinforcement of Recondite, I do hope that the pair of us can learn to trust one another, and see the other as the closest of all allies.”

Hermione worried her lower lip. “I would hate for you to be parted from Mars for a long period of time...”

“Not to worry,” Bella told Hermione gently. “He is already on his way. He’s been assigned as Sirius’s bodyguard, after a fashion.”

Hermione felt her face go pale. “You called him ‘Sirius’...”

“And I will continue to do so, in private, just as I will call you Hermione,” Bella informed her. “I mean, I will call you ‘Mrs. Black’, if you prefer, but wouldn’t it be just a bit strange, given that I’m nearly fifteen months older than you?”

Hermione shook her head. “No, of course, it’s completely proper.” She gave Bella a smile. “I suppose it’ll be different, being so close with a girl. I don’t have any siblings, and the only girls I was really close to were back at Hogwarts. The first was the sister of my ex-boyfriend, who is still one of my best friends, and the other was someone we met when we formed a student defense league against our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, back in fifth-year. She was an absolute toad of a woman, who always wore abysmal shades of pink...”

Bella laughed aloud. “We heard quite a bit about her in The Quotidian Oracle, Russia’s leading wizarding newspaper,” she explained. “Much more reliable than that of your Daily Prophet, and they print in the same wave as The Quibbler; I’ll get you a copy when my owl arrives.”

Hermione blinked. “You’ve an owl?”

“My Ural owl, Gamayun,” Bella said proudly. “Mars got her for me after I helped him with Potions for his DOHLEs, and it was after that that we shared our first kiss.” Bella sighed then, her eyes filled with love for her boyfriend. “She’s sending off a letter to him at the moment. He’s due to come in a few days, and he’ll bring her with him.”

“Crookshanks and Valentina get along well with owls,” Hermione said softly, saddened that they’d been unable to take Iris and Draven with them, and the pair of owls were now sequestered at Shell Cottage, another safe house, where Bill and Fleur were now living. “Harry has a snowy owl called Hedwig, and Ron has a miniature owl called Pigwidgeon. Sirius actually got him for Ron, even though he’s a bit too hyperactive for Ron’s taste.”

Bella smiled at that. “Your headmaster and my headmistress also had ulterior motives for putting the pair of us together,” she said, deliberately lowering her voice. “As you’re expecting, I assume you like children.”

“I adore them,” Hermione replied, smiling at Bella. “Of course, I haven’t had a chance to be around them much at all, you see. Hogwarts begins at eleven, and of course the younger years do get homesick. As a prefect, and later Head Girl, it was my duty to ensure that they were always comfortable in their new surroundings.”

“Headmaster Dumbledore and Headmistress Polivanova thought that the pair of us could set up a magical school here, to teach very young children about theory, and the history of the Wizarding World,” Bella said softly. “You could say that the pair of us were flying blind within our families and didn’t get proper instruction until a representative from our schools came for the lecture to inform us that we were witches.”

Hermione raised her eyebrows at that. “Of course. The books were quite informative, to be sure, but what if a Muggleborn child has a learning disability of some kind?”

“Exactly my point,” Bella replied, eyes shining. “Plus, it would give them a safe environment for any potential accidental magical outbursts. Some parents can be quite cruel if they either don’t like or understand certain things.”

Hermione shuddered. “You’re very right,” she said quietly. “I was lucky—my parents embraced my eccentricities and thought I was special, not minding at all when I was proclaimed a witch. It wasn’t so difficult to tell family, friends, and neighbors that I’d been accepted into a secluded and elite Scottish boarding school, and it wasn’t a far stretch to say that it was actually in a castle, because a lot of them are.”

“Are there students from Hogwarts that weren’t so lucky?” Bella asked softly.

Hermione nodded. “Yes. Harry’s upbringing was less-than-savory. His mother’s Muggle sister, her husband, and their son consisted of Harry’s only family after his parents were murdered. It was devastating for him to return, summer after summer, because they hated magic and, by extension, hated Harry. Let’s just say that a trip to our school’s matron was always in Harry’s future once he got off the train.”

Bella shook her head at the new information. “It is truly amazing what people are allowed to get away with,” she mused, her eyes filling with tears then, before she snapped out of it, and straightened in her chair.

Hermione gave Bella a small smile. “When do you think we should be getting to work on the formulation of this little school?” she asked, knowing when it was time to return to the main subject at hand.

“Perhaps in the summer,” Bella said with a decisive nod. “That way, they wouldn’t be missing any school. Of course, it is winter here for them, so being shut up in a warm building, learning about your future, with plenty of hot chocolate and biscuits, will likely get them happy. Plus, it keeps them out of trouble, so to speak. So many scrapes can happen during the holidays, where the parents know how to cover things up in time for the year to begin again.”

Hermione grimaced at the thought. “Well, when shall we begin, then?”

~*~

Hermione’s eyes flew open and checked the ticking clock; it was after midnight, and it was the third week in May. She felt Sirius sitting bolt-upright beside her, and Hermione turned towards her husband, panic in her expression. “The wards have been breached,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she clutched onto the thick duvet.

“You felt it, too, then?” Sirius asked.

Hermione nodded. “Unfortunately, although fortuitous,” she said, mimicking Sirius as they pushed down the coverlet, before making a grab for their housecoats and slippers. “Who do you think it is? Dumbledore?”

“I doubt it—he would’ve found a way to send an owl,” Sirius replied, making sure that they didn’t disturb Crookshanks or Valentina, as they grabbed their wands and slipped out of the master bedroom. “Thank Merlin it’s the off-season.”

Hermione nodded at that; although a popular hotel, people seemed to want to be with their families this holiday season, and so there were no guests at present. As they crept down the dark staircase, a feeble Lumos igniting the tips of both their wands, Hermione stopped short as Sirius visibly waved her back. “What?” she hissed.

“I want you to remain in the shadows—douse your wand,” Sirius instructed. “If it turns out to be a Death Eater or other villain, I want you to run upstairs, barricade yourself in the master bedroom, and contact the Order via Floo.”

Hermione shook her head in protest. “Sirius, I can help—”

Sirius yanked her towards him in the semi-darkness, and pressed a passionate kiss upon her upturned mouth. “The last thing I want is any harm coming to you or our daughter,” he whispered to her, his voice firm. “We need to think about her, love, because our very survival depends upon hers.”

Hermione sighed, hating to admit that he was right. “All right,” she grumbled, clearly not pleased with the situation. She whispered, “Nox,” and nodded that she was ready for Sirius to leave her side and investigate.

Sirius gave her a loving smile before he turned on his heel and slipped through the darkness of the kitchen and towards the door, where they had both sensed the ward breaching. He slowly turned the handle and stepped outside, his slippered feet crunching quietly upon the freshly fallen snow. As he walked through the darkness, Hermione watched as best she could the trial of light his wand left, heart in her throat, hoping that no villain had found their safe haven.

“Merlin’s teeth!” Sirius cried out after a few moments, and Hermione gripped her wand in her hand all the more tightly. Sirius bent down and fetched something, about six or seven yards away from the kitchen door, and brought it up into his arms. The thing was more like a bundle, and it was shrieking, probably due to the cold temperature outside. Sirius rushed back into the house, before he slammed and warded the door behind him, and walked towards Hermione.

Hermione rushed forward then, turning on all the lights in the kitchen with a flick of her wand, and gasped at the sight before her. In her husband’s arms was a toddler, no more than two-years-old, with a shock of long, blonde hair and red cheeks, although her small fingers were blue with cold. Hermione’s heart went out to her and immediately took her from her husband, shushing the mite and pressing a kiss onto her forehead. It filled her with great relief that, once the little one had sensed her calm and warmth, that she burrowed into Hermione’s arms, latching her arms around her neck, and cried softly.

Sirius looked uncomfortable, and stared at the bundle in his wife’s arms, before something else seemed to catch his attention. Reaching out and gently feeling along the bundle, he retrieved what appeared to be a letter, and, given that it was written with a ballpoint pen, he quickly deduced that it had to have been a Muggle who had abandoned the child. Opening the envelope and spreading the page of the letter onto the kitchen island, he began to read.

 

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Black,

 

This child is called Cressida, and she is my daughter, Maya’s, child. Maya is not even sixteen yet, so the fact that she has a child at all is quite concerning. Cressida is due to turn three at the end of December; although Maya tried, she is unable to continue looking after her.  

I did not intend upon leaving Cressida with strangers, which is why I have given over her custody and care to you. Maya’s boyfriend, who was found murdered a few weeks ago, after disappearing for god knows how long, was called Themis. Themis was born to a woman called Guinevere Prewett, and, although he never knew his father, always said that he was called Regulus Black. I am aware, through some sleuthing, that Regulus was Mr. Black’s brother, which means that this child is your great-niece.

If you do not want her—which I could not blame you for, as she is a most unusual child—then do give her over to the local authority. Perhaps something can be done about her unnaturalness. It would be a shame to keep such an odd child within an ordinary family.

 

Sincerely,

Paul Ambrose

 

“Merlin, Regulus had a child,” Hermione breathed, pressing her lips to the child’s forehead, and rocked her slowly in her arms. She smiled as the child’s eyes fluttered and she finally succumbed to sleep, and cradled her against her. “Well, she likely will sleep well tonight... I suppose she can borrow the crib for the night, and we’ll see about getting her a proper bed in the morning—”

Sirius’s eyes snapped onto Hermione’s. “What are you talking about?”

Hermione blinked. “Sleeping arrangements?” she asked. “Thankfully, the crib is in our room already, but we’ll have to transfigure something to make a nappy until one of us can go shopping in the morning proper. Then there’s the matter of feeding her,” she went on, pacing about the kitchen so that the little girl didn’t wake up. “She’s over two, so she’s definitely eating solids now, but no spicy food, I think—it would probably make her ill—”

“Hermione,” Sirius interrupted. “I agree that we’ll put her in the crib for the night, and that we’ll need to transfigure something into a nappy, and no spicy food... But we won’t be keeping her. It is ludicrous that you would even think—”

Hermione’s eyes blazed with anger as they shifted onto her husband. “Are you serious?” she demanded, her tone low and dangerous.

Sirius blinked. “I think we’ve established that my name is well and truly—”

Hermione’s magic sparked against the surface of her skin as she tried her utmost to retain her temper. “We are all the family she has left, Sirius,” she said slowly. “I hardly think that turning Cressida out is appropriate.”

Sirius looked annoyed. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I want her,” Hermione told her husband. “How could you not want her? She was abandoned in the snow, Sirius. Have you no heart at all?”

Sirius’s eyes blazed quickly. “Don’t ever accuse me of being without a heart.”

“Then, don’t act like it!” Hermione said, doing her best to keep her voice down. “Your own family rejected you, and I think it’s a shame, but don’t afford the same treatment to this little girl, who has done you no wrong in all her life!”

“That’s because I didn’t know she existed for all her life,” Sirius shot back. “If she had stayed unknown, I wouldn’t have had to worry about it.”

Hermione’s jaw set. “Sirius, this is a time of war, where families from all walks of life must band together and protect one another as much as they possibly can,” she told him. “If you cannot accept Cressida, who has no one but us, I’m afraid...” She shook her head. “Well, in the meantime, you will be sleeping in one of the guest rooms tonight,” she said, and flounced out of the room and back up the stairs, leaving her husband on his own in the kitchen.

~*~

It had been nearly a fortnight since Cressida had been found on the snowy fields outside of the hotel, and Hermione had easily slipped into the main caregiver role. As the letter had reported, Cressida was indeed what the Muggle World would determine to be “unusual”. However, she was also an exceedingly bright child, and had the command of the English language far more advanced than that of a mere twenty-nine-month-old.

Hermione was pleased that Bella had stepped in to help with Ida, the nickname they’d decided on for the child, and Ida had warmed to her nearly as quickly as she had done with Hermione. It was a relief when Mars had arrived a week before, and he was attempting to talk some sense into Sirius, along with Jack, in between his maintenance tasks. Olivia, when she was not seeing to the cooking of the hotel, was always on hand for advice or a cuddle if Ida had need of it. As for Leo, Liam, and Lucas, they were content to make silly faces for Ida, who was charmed by the three of them threefold.

Hermione pursed her lips for the umpteenth time that day. “I just wish he could see that this child, while sharing Remus’s blood, has his blood as well,” she said, her tone riddled with a fair measure of annoyance, as she oversaw Ida’s potty training, which had been going extremely well since her arrival.

Bella shook her head from where she stood in the doorway. “I have Mars and Dad talking to him several times a day,” she reported, watching as Hermione painstakingly instructed Ida on wiping herself accordingly, followed by a lesson in hand-washing. “I don’t know what else can be done at this point. It is not as if you can force anyone to love and accept anyone...”

“Too true,” said Hermione, instructing Ida to walk over to Bella while she washed her own hands for good measure. “Your parents have been brilliant in their talks with Sirius, and I commend Mars for his perseverance,” she went on. “But I’m just so frustrated...”

“Did you and Sirius ever discuss adoption?” Bella wanted to know, handing a giggling Ida over to Hermione when she’d finished washing her hands.

Hermione smiled down at the child, smoothing down one of the dresses she’d bought for her, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “We did, right at the beginning,” she confirmed as they left the loo and walked down the hallway towards the staircase, Ida tucking her head into Hermione’s warm neck. “Sirius wasn’t sure if I was truly invested in the marriage or not, given the age difference and the shock of it all, but the prophecy dictated that any child I carried needed to have his blood comingling with mine,” she explained. “I assured him that I was open to adoption, but I also wanted to become pregnant as well.”

The Australian witch pursed her lips. “Perhaps Sirius meant that as a stranger’s child coming into your lives, which, in a sense, Ida is,” said Bella softly. “However, he likely meant one that didn’t share blood with either of you.”

“Be that as it may,” Hermione said, once they’d reached the base of the stairs, “I am determined to keep Ida. She’s such a wonderful child, and I felt an inexplicable bond with her from the moment I laid eyes on her.”

“Maternal instinct,” Bella told her with a smile, watching as Hermione placed Ida into her baby chair and went towards the fridge, fetching a fruit cup and some vegetable sticks for Ida’s late-afternoon snack. “Anyone can see how much you two have bonded.”

Hermione flashed Bella a grateful smile and fetched a baby-safe spoon, before she ventured back to the chair itself. “I just want her to be safe, happy, and loved, and I think I can give her all of those things,” she mused, setting the fruit cup and spoon aside, and placed the vegetable sticks—baby carrots and small celery stalks. She offered up a carrot to Ida, who took it into her pudgy little hands and began chewing on it. “Do you like it?” she asked her.

“Carrots yummy!” Ida declared, clapping her hands.

Bella laughed. “Well, there’s a success story if I’ve ever seen one.”

Hermione nodded, and was just about to continue the discussion, when the wards were disturbed yet again. Her eyes quickly flashed to Bella. “Where are your parents?” she asked.

“Mum’s doing the shopping, and Dad took the boys to Hardwarehouse,” she said quickly, her wand already in her hand. “And, as you know, Mars and Sirius are either securing the perimeter or dueling in the back garden...”

Hermione brandished her own wand, and immediately threw on her glamor, making Ida giggle and clap her hands excitedly, her own magic sparkling to the surface of her skin. “Take Ida and hide in the master bedroom until I tell you it’s safe,” she ordered, and ventured towards the kitchen door, wand out, and threw open the door, once Bella had grabbed Ida and ran up the stairs with her. Sticking her head outside, she saw none other than Severus Snape standing there, and stepped out, wand still aloft, as Severus promptly moved to do the same.

“What did Severus Snape call me during the lesson on werewolves when he took over as Defense Against the Dark Arts professor for Professor Lupin?” she demanded.

Severus rolled his eyes. “An insufferable know-it-all,” he replied, but did not lower his own wand, knowing he would have to ask a question as well. “What did Hermione Granger utilize her third-year at Hogwarts?”

“A time-turner,” she replied steadily, and lowered her wand. “Really, Severus,” she said, shaking her head as she dropped her glamor, and moved to embrace the man, “we could do without the theatrics around here. And, speaking of here,” she went on, pulling back and raising her eyebrows at him, “what brings you?”

“Me,” said a voice, and, quite suddenly, Harry’s head popped out of nowhere, with the rest of his body still hidden beneath the invisibility cloak.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Come out from under there at once,” she ordered, but a grin quickly spread to her face when Harry revealed himself completely, a beautiful bulge in his stomach at last visibly confirming his pregnancy. “Look at you!” she squealed, running towards him and giving him a hard hug.

“Hermione, I’ll thank you not to break my husband,” Severus scolded gently.

“Oh, hush, Sev,” Harry shot at him, and pulled back to look over Hermione. “But you! You’re positively glowing!”

Hermione flushed attractively. “Thank you, Harry. Why don’t you come in?” she asked, and gestured back towards the hotel.

“Thank you, delighted,” Severus replied, throwing an arm around Harry and walking through the snowy field behind Hermione, and into the warm kitchen.

“Bella!” Hermione shouted up the stairs, and Harry and Severus were almost immediately on their guard at the name. “The phoenix called!”

Bella came downstairs shortly thereafter, Ida in her arms, the latter of whom immediately reached for Hermione, who took her. “Oh! You’re Severus Snape,” said Bella, clearly enchanted, before regarding Harry. “And Harry Potter-Snape, too,” she said, far less enthusiastic about the Boy Who Lived. “Bellalina Lacey, how do you do?” she said, holding out her hand.

“Lacey?” Severus asked, shaking the hand on offer. “You placed third in the Wizarding Schools Potion Championship,” he went on, clearly impressed. “How remarkable.”

Bella smiled. “Well, potions was certainly an escape when it came to school—I’m a Muggleborn like Hermione, and the only witch in my family; no wizards, that we know of,” she went on to explain carefully. “It actually helped me meet my boyfriend. He’s here, somewhere about, with Sirius.”

“That’s why we’re here,” Severus said, smiling at Bella one last time before turning to regard Hermione then. “Sirius’s behavior towards this lovely little lass.” Severus looked down at Ida, who grinned up at him. “Severus Snape,” he said, and offered his hand.

“Cwessida Bwack,” Ida said, taking the hand and shaking it; Hermione had been quick to teach Ida all about proper introduction. “Nice to meet you, Sewerus.”

Harry covered his mouth to hide his laughter as Severus curled his lip to keep from the same reaction. “Hello, little miss,” he said instead, prompting Ida to look over at him. “I’m your uncle Harry.”

“Hawwy!” cried Ida, who opened her arms and threw herself at him, much to Hermione’s amusement, and Harry’s clear surprise.

“I’ve told her all about you,” Hermione explained, and Severus and Bella looked indulgently at Ida nuzzling into Harry’s arms. “She couldn’t wait to meet her uncle Harry.”

“Ah, so you do intend to adopt the child, then?” Severus asked.

Hermione nodded. “I do; it’s Sirius who’s dead-set against the idea. And all because she carries Regulus’s blood—he’s holding that against her. She’s a child...”

“Child of a Death Eater,” said Sirius, stepping into the kitchen, Mars at his heels, clearly relieved to see that Bella was all right. “Hello, Severus. Harry,” he said, his tone warm, although his eyes went cold at the sight of Ida in his arms.

“Hello, Sirius,” Harry replied, and Hermione glared at her husband.

“Sirius,” Severus said, and gave him a nod, before turning to Mars. “Ah. And this must be the illustrative Mars.”

“Nice to meet you, Severus,” Mars said, shaking the potion master’s hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you, so it’s nice to put a face to the name. The papers never do you justice.”

“That’s what I always tell him,” Harry piped up. “Hi, I’m—”

“You’re Harry Potter-Snape, of course,” Mars gasped, dropping Severus’s hand and shaking Harry’s, and Severus rolled his eyes at the display. “Merlin, if you weren’t expecting, I’d challenge you to a game of one-on-one! I’d like to see a Seeker ride a broom in the flesh,” he said, and Bella indulgently stroked his arm.

“You use trees in Russia, don’t you?” Harry queried.

“Yes, exactly,” Mars replied.

“Back to the matter at hand,” Sirius said, interrupting the conversation between his godson and his bodyguard, “are you and Severus here to take the child, then, Harry?”

Hermione snatched back Ida from Harry, who momentarily shrieked in protest, until she saw that it was Hermione who now held her, and nuzzled in close like always. “This is how it’s been for the last bloody fortnight,” she growled, protectively encasing Ida in her arms.

“I swear to Merlin the mattress in the guest suite hasn’t been changed in the last century,” Sirius complained, reaching behind himself and rubbing his back.

Severus smirked. “Keep the flea-bitten mutt out of your room, and your bed, I say,” he said, and crossed his arms, which prompted Harry to smack his arse.

“None of that, Sev,” his shorter husband warned.

Severus rolled his eyes, but maintained his composure. “There is an easy way to settle this, if you want to,” he offered.

“Is there a silver dagger involved?” Sirius asked.

Hermione whipped around to face her husband. “I won’t hesitate to dismember you and burn your corpse if you don’t stop that!” she yelled, plates and glasses shuddering from within the kitchen cabinets, and the entire hotel beginning to shake. “Never joke about disposing of Ida again, Sirius Black, do you understand me?!”

Severus looked uncomfortable. “Dear Merlin, it’s worse than I thought,” he said, reaching into his cloak and pulling out a small rectangular object, which he quickly enlarged, to reveal an ancient and weathered-looking tome. “Harry and I had to search the vaults at Gringotts for this, but, thankfully, there was a copy.”

“A medieval potions test of some sort?” Bella asked quizzically.

“You would think, since it is me holding it, but I’m afraid that first we have to figure out how deep this actually goes,” Severus replied, holding up the book, which was entitled, Blood-Curses: A Chronicle, and was by someone called Sable Serpen. “An ancient tome for the original family feuds,” Severus said, and opened the book to the back, proceeding to scan the index. “If what I fear is true, then we haven’t much time.”

“What are you thinking it is, Severus?” Mars wanted to know, immediately pulling Bella into his arms in a defensive gesture.

“Sirius and his younger brother, Regulus, never got along,” Severus explained, his coal-black eyes scanning the index a mile a minute. “Initially, everyone believed this was because Regulus was initially seen as the ‘perfect son’ or the ‘golden child’, namely by embracing the dark ways and being sorted into Slytherin.”

“Not surprising,” Bella replied, leaning back into Mars’s arms. “There are many accounts throughout history about families blatantly favoring one child over the other, and it hardly ever ends well...”

“Precisely, Bella,” Severus nodded, glancing up at her briefly before returning to the book. “It’s not much of a stretch to consider that Sirius’s boyhood resentment towards Regulus, and, by extension, his mother and father, has manifested itself into hatred.” Shaking his head, the man suddenly went white, and gripped the book so tightly, his knuckles matched his face.

“Severus?” Harry whispered, placing a hand upon his husband’s arm. “What is it? What’s going on?” he asked.

Severus lowered the book slowly then, and caught sight of Mars. “Mars, lock Sirius in his room at once,” he ordered.

“What?!” Sirius demanded. “You cannot—”

Immobulus! Incarcerous,” Hermione said without hesitation, waving her hand and conjuring up ropes, which bound themselves around Sirius. “Take him upstairs, remove his wand from his person, and lock him in,” she ordered. “Lock up his tongue if you have to as well.”

“That’s an order,” Severus bellowed, and Mars let go of Bella and made a grab for Sirius, who was still protesting as his wand slipped from his fingers, which Bella promptly grabbed, watching as her boyfriend took Sirius up the stairs.

Harry grimaced at the display. “Care to tell me why binding up my godfather and imprisoning him in his own temporary home is a good idea?” he asked his husband.

“Right here,” Severus replied, placing the book onto the kitchen island, and Hermione, Harry, and Bella stepped forward, peering onto the page he had turned to. “The Malignance Malediction,” he said darkly, “one of the darkest spells to ever exist, and you must share blood with someone to ensure it is achieved properly.”

“‘And so, whomever is cursed with this affliction, animosity for one person, or persons, who share their blood, will henceforth be foretold’,” Hermione read, her eyes widening. “‘Even if it is a relation of that person, the curse shall remain until the curse can be broken. Only those pure of heart can achieve this quest, and only shall be complete if done so for unselfish reasons.’”

“‘Pure of heart’?” Harry asked sarcastically, rubbing his swollen belly. “Why is it always ‘pure of heart’?”

“It’s an old saying,” Bella told Harry patiently. “In the olden days, it was taken to mean those who did not venture from the true path.”

“Or, as they called it, the path of the Lord, or God,” Severus told his husband.

“How do we fix this?” Hermione whispered, turning to Severus with fear.

“With a very ancient and very sacred potion which I will, of course, brew,” Severus informed Hermione patiently. “Bella, would you care to assist me?”

“I see it as an honor, Severus,” Bella replied.

“What’s needed for the potion?” Harry asked, peering into the book. “All the text is in Latin, and I don’t...” He cut himself off then, and turned to Hermione. “Hermione, you can read Latin?” he demanded, shocked.

Hermione nodded. “Yes, I can. I can also read and speak French.”

Harry sputtered for a moment, until Severus interrupted him.

“What’s needed is a cleansing ritual, in which neither person is exposed to one another for at least a fortnight, which is how long the potion will need to brew,” Severus explained. “Then, we will add their blood as a final ingredient. As for other ingredients, we will need the petals from fresh lilies for purity; calendula for remembrance and joy; aloe for healing and protection; elder for compassion; violet for humility, devotion, and forgiveness; mint for wisdom and virtue; thyme for bravery and strength; and roses for love and victory.”

“Must all the ingredients be fresh?” Bella asked, having written everything down.

“Yes,” Severus replied, seemingly pleased with the question. “The lilies should be from the State of Michigan; the calendula from the Canary Islands; the aloe should be from Arabia; the elder from Singapore; the violet from Tanzania; the mint from the Ukraine; the thyme from the Republic of Moldovia; and the roses from Ecuador.”

Bella quickly wrote everything down. “Mars’s father works for the Russian ministry,” she said quickly, “and is familiar with Headmaster Dumbledore and my and Mars’s assignment. I’m sure that he could arrange for an international portkey, if you want to divide up the list.”

Severus nodded. “Forward thinking,” he said, and checked the list over. “I suppose that the lilies, the calendula, and the roses can come from you. I shall procure the rest.”

Bella blinked. “Are you quite sure?”

Severus nodded. “It is no trouble. I know that Pomona Sprout, our Herbology professor at Hogwarts, wouldn’t mind sending me a few of these. As for the rest, Harry wanted to do some traveling before the baby comes. As long as he is underneath the glamor, and I’m Polyjuiced, then we are safe to do so.”

“Sounds all right to me,” Bella said with a nod, and turned to Hermione. “Might I utilize your Floo to contact him?”

Hermione nodded. “Of course, by all means.”

“And the portkey?” Harry asked, after Bella had ventured upstairs.

Severus smiled down at him. “Albus does owe me a favor or three.”

Hermione cuddled Ida in her arms, who had, by now, fallen asleep in all the excitement. “I hope that we can resolve this,” she said quietly, stroking her swollen belly with her free hand. “All this stress can’t be good for me...”

“Have you seen Healer Weaving yet?” Harry wanted to know.

“I’m due for an appointment next week,” Hermione confirmed, looking down at Ida. “She’s going to check Ida over as well...”

Severus reached out and squeezed Hermione’s shoulder affectionately. “We will accomplish this, Hermione,” he assured her. “I know we will. The last thing I would want is Sirius potentially hurting an innocent child.” He looked down at Ida and smiled. “She is a pretty little thing. I can feel her magic from here...”

“She’s a Half-Blood,” Hermione remarked, rubbing her hand up and down Ida’s back. “She’s one of the most powerful witches I’ve ever met...” Her voice caught in her throat. “I’d really hate to lose her...”

Severus patted Hermione awkwardly on the shoulder, and handed over a handkerchief. “And you won’t lose her,” he assured her gently, and Harry gave Hermione a reassuring smile. “Let me do this for you, Hermione, and bring your husband back to you.”

Hermione slowly raised her eyes towards Severus, and nodded her head. “Guess that’s all we can hope for,” she replied, and slowly permitted herself to smile at the potions master.

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