Thanks to all who read a reviewed last chapter. Special shoutout goes to zeeksmom for some excellent feedback.

Talbot was growing very quickly, and he was obviously very pleased with it.

It meant he could reach his jaws up to a doorknob and open it, making his girl squeak with surprise.

Or, as he was doing now, it meant he could bound up to the top of Hermione's wardrobe and snag the treats she kept there for him.

Well, he was trying. Difficult to jump and aim at the same time.

Talbot snorted as he knocked over a small potted basil plant that was perched on the window ledge. Soil scattered everywhere, and he sneezed.

Not his fault, his girl shouldn't make the treats so hard to get at.

Talbot was so intent on his task that he missed the sound of Hermione's return.

He didn't, however, miss her exclaimed "Talbot!"

The pup gulped and peered over his shoulder. There she was, school bag in hand, eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Talbot, Talbot," Hermione scolded gently. "Trying to get at your treats again, hmm? And what have I told you about eating too many? They're not good for you."

Talbot hung his head and whined softly. He peeped at her under his lashes, raising a paw in supplication.

He knew he was adorable, and he had no qualms about using that to his advantage.

It worked, too. "Oh...you. Come off it, already." Hermione held out her hands, and Talbot rushed into them, sniffing eagerly and trying to lick her face.

Shaking her head but unable to keep from laughing, Hermione threw herself onto her bed. She scratched his ears and let the pup settle comfortably beside her.

"You are getting big," she mused. "No wonder you want to stretch your legs. We should find someplace to let you run free. Hmm..."

Hermione closed her eyes in concentration. She sent her magical awareness into the air, flying swiftly over the neighborhood and past the crowded city streets. Lingering over forest and field, Hermione forgot to keep petting Talbot.

He snuffled into her hand in protest, but Hermione, immersed in her magic, shushed him absently.

Now she saw country and hills not yet alive with spring. She drifted for a time. A place to run and hide and chase, she thought. Somewhere that will soon turn lush and green, somewhere full of magical secrets...

A forest gradually made itself aware to her. Hermione dipped in and found traces of all manner of beasts wild and magical. To her surprise and delight, little pockets of the forest were bright with flowers in full bloom, and sun that sparkled gold like summer.

Must be some ancient kind of magic...how lovely...

Hermione swiftly returned to her body.

Talbot had fallen into a light doze. Shaking him gently, she whispered "Talbot. Talbot! Want to go play? I found a lovely spot to run in."

His eyes opened. Play? Running? With Hermione?

He jumped down immediately and stretched, stuffing his snout under her knees and playfully dragging her from the bed in impatience.

She giggled. "Just a moment! I'll see if Mom and Dad are home."

Hermione found her parents in the den. Her dad was working quietly on some paperwork, and her mum was searching through cookbooks for recipes.

Her father looked up sternly when she made a timid approach. "Back already from school?"

"Yes, father."

"Are you making friends?"

Hermione bit her lip. She was making friends...just not at school.

But how could she tell her parents she had befriended witches and wizards miles and miles away?

The last time she had hinted that, her father had become angry and demanded she stop telling tales.

Her parents became cross anytime events odd or magical came up, really.

So Hermione smiled blandly and told half truths, since she knew it would please her father. "Yes, Daddy."

"And you're keeping up at school?"

"Yes, I am."

He turned his attention back to his notes. "That's good to hear, Hermione. Now run along and play now. Be a good girl. And take that dog with you too, keep you both out of trouble."

Her mother said nothing.

But Hermione did not dwell on that. Free, she sprinted back to her room. Plunging into her closet, she emerged clad in the wonderful russet cloak Draco had given her.

She glanced at her pup, who cocked his head.

"Ready?"

In answer, Talbot jumped into her arms, and with a rustling woosh! Hermione whisked them away into the secret wood.

Albus Dumbledore hummed, moving swiftly along the path around the Lake.

The snow was finally clearing around Hogwarts. The grounds, long asleep, were coming awake. He ducked his head so the pointed blue patchwork hat he wore wouldn't be knocked off by overhanging branches.

There were some downsides to being so tall.

Term was going well this year, Albus mused. Students were no more or less rowdy than on previous years. Well, except for the Weasley twins.

Albus couldn't hide a grin.

They had charmed Mrs. Norris to make baby goat sounds. Argus Filch had chased the poor creature all over the castle before he finally caught her, still bleating with all her lung's might.

Those two. He would have to think up a suitable punishment, not too grisly, but enough to show they—

A magical presence interrupted his train of thought.

A new...energy had entered the Forbidden Forest. At first, Albus thought it was a bird, for it was moving very fast.

He frowned. No...no, it was definitely human. A witch, perhaps?

Albus let his own magic, a blue stream, flow out through the wood, seeking...

Not a witch at all. Just...just a little girl.

Understanding flicked into Albus' mind. This is Hermione Granger.

He felt an answering strain of fire respond to his querying magic.

Astonished, he pulled back. Had she really perceived him? Impossible. But he had heard she was very powerful. Albus stretched forth his magic once more, this time in invitation.

She answered almost immediately.

It wasn't long before Albus sensed her light step approaching from the wood. But before he got a look at her, a warning growl came from the shadows before him.

Albus peered closer. Huge teeth met his eyes, and a long and lean wolfish body.

The pup she had saved. He had heard of the incident. But how had he not detected the wolf? But before he could pursue that question, a light feminine voice emerged behind the wolf.

"Talbot, calm." She placed a hand on the wolf's neck, just below the skull, and caught Albus in a piercing amber gaze.

Albus collected himself switly and smiled benevolently at the girl. "Hermione Granger, is it? A pleasure to meet you."

Hermione moved closer as though enchanted, drawn by an unknown calling. She held up her unarmed right hand level with her face and said solemnly, "Hail, Mage."

Albus paused a heartbeat.

This particular greeting was a very formal, very ancient custom that was standard between two wizards or witches of alien or even opposing clans.

But he returned her greeting in like form.

Albus raised his arm like hers and intoned. "Hail, Witchchild." She had an enormous amount of curly hair, he noticed. It probably made her taller by a good few inches.

They brought their raised fingers together and spun round each other once, keeping a locked gaze all the while.

When the ritual was complete, Hermione cocked her head as though surprised at herself.

"You are Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore."

Her voice, Albus thought, was sweet to hear. It reminded him of something, though he couldn't quite grasp it.

He inclined his head in a small bow, taking the opportunity to ascertain that the wolf was staying out of biting range. He was...but his wary gaze never left the old wizard. "At your service." He fished in his pockets and found a little bag of magical caramels, which he offered her.

Hermione accepted with a gleam of childlike pleasure. When she bit in, the caramel, similar to the non-magic sort, pulled into a long string of candy. But this magical variety exaggerated that feature, and left Hermione pulling so much from her lips that she had to coil the caramel into a large spool.

Her eyes opened wide in astonishment. Then she began to giggle.

Albus, realizing it was her first time with that particular sweet, laughed as well.

Hermione somehow managed to speak with jaws nearly cemented shut. "I didn't know there was a path here. Show me the way?"

Albus courteously offered him arm. She accepted with sly sugary grin, and they set off.

"I didn't realize we had strayed so close to the castle," said Hermione casually, as though it was perfectly normal to Apparate onto Hogwarts grounds. "Talbot gave me quite chase."

"I am sure he must. You know this is the Forbidden Forest."

"You're inside it," she pointed out reasonably. "How forbidden can it be? Besides, I'm not yet a student."

Albus swallowed a smile. "No, not yet. Would it have stopped you, though?"

"No," she replied with a bubble of laughter. "It's so beautiful here. So many kinds of magics all wound together. Like one of those beautiful tapestries in France, the ones with the unicorn. No...that's not quite right. Like—what are they called?—the Portuguese man o' war."

"Tentacley?" Albus guessed shrewdly. "Venomous? Not tasty?"

"No!" Hermione repeated, laughing. "I mean...multiple living components that together construe one being."

"Ah! A colonial organism."

"Yes, yes! That's it. I was reading about them in one of Lucius' books. Did you know some kinds of octopus aren't affected by their venom, and will carry round bits of broken-off tentacle as a kind of weapon? And—"

A greatly enthusiastic Hermione carried on about her favorite sea creatures, entirely oblivious to her companion's spinning mind.

Albus realized he was surprised for the third time. More than surprised. Utterly flummoxed.

Most people—including the majority of his teaching staff—simply saw a forest full of magical creatures. They never guessed the forest itself was something close to a magical, sentient creature on its own.

But even more than that, he was completely unprepared for what he had discovered in Hermione Granger.

He had heard from Severus that she was good. Right to the core, that's what he'd said.

He had followed her in the papers, noting her scholarly interests, and her kindness towards animals.

He had read that the girl was tied at the hip with the Malfoy family. She was more powerful than any witch or wizard that had been seen in a long time.

Merlin's shortbread, there were some who believed she was the Dark Lord's heir. Or even his own child.

So naturally, he'd expected a suave little politician, a mirror reflection of the Malfoys. A gigantic ego along with the intellect. A force that, perhaps would need to be contained.

Instead he was confronted with a tiny little girl that could only sometimes be seen underneath a mass of bushy hair. Though the books she mentioned and the knowledge base she was apparently building were far, far beyond that of a normal child...her energy and excitement were that of a young girl.

Her sense of wonder at the world was vast and enthralling.

And at the same time, she had initially introduced herself with strange ancient customs of which most wizards had never even heard.

How intriguing.

Hermione was still chatting excitedly when the castle came into view, lovely as a fairytale.

She trailed off and gazed, awestruck. "Hogwarts," Hermione breathed. "My ancestors knew this place."

Albus sent her a quizzical glance. "I suspect that, with the exception of muggle-born students, most of our ancestors here in Britain did. Would you like to come in?"

The invitation was impulsive. Albus wondered swiftly what exactly he would do with her once she was inside. He was very curious to see how Hogwarts would react to the girl...

But Hermione was shaking her head. "Thanks, but I've got to run home for dinner." She pulled a sour face. "Kale and chicken. I'll come back again if I may."

"You'd be welcome. It's a bit unorthodox, but you are planning to attend in a few months, yes?"

"Yes."

Albus took a breath. For a moment, years lifted away and he saw a young Tom Riddle before him.

He narrowed his eyes. What was that?

Her answer was strong, almost too strong to be flat. But she was, for a heartbeat, entirely unreadable. Was that...was that truly a glimmer of the boy Lord Voldemort he had seen? He couldn't be sure, but he thought a kind of hungry desparation had flickered through her eyes.

Eyes that were so like Tom's...

How had he missed it before? It was subtle, but the bone structure in their faces was similar. Even the long shape of her limbs, petite though they were, reminded him of the friendless and ambitious orphan Albus had once known.

But their demeanors were entirely opposite. Where Riddle was ice, Hermione was fire. There was a sweetness in her heart that Albus could sense immediately.

Perhaps he was reading too closely into this. Perhaps it was simply apprehension that had flickered over her elfin features. Perhaps...

No matter.

All these thoughts passed through Albus' mind like lightning. And he showed no sign of them on his face. Instead, without missing a beat, Albus pointed a long finger to Hagrid's hut a couple hundred yards away.

"Our gamekeeper Hagrid lives there. Pay him a visit when you can, and tell him I sent you. I think you'll enjoy each other."

Hermione looked the hut over briefly, and Albus wondered if she had thought all magical people lived like the Malfoys.

But the girl only nodded. "Thank you. And it was nice meeting you, Mage." She held out her small hand for him to shake.

"A pleasure, my girl." For a moment their eyes met squarely, and Albus thought once more of the boy Tom Riddle. Then the moment passed, and Hermione was dancing away, muttering dark things about eating kale for dinner.

Albus Dumbledore watched her disappear into the Forbidden Forest, silent wolf loping after her.

Within moments, her fiery magical presence had faded from his awareness, and he continued on the path to the castle. Well. What a peculiar encounter. Much to think about.

By the time he made it to the doors, Albus was wondering idly if there would be treacle tarts for dessert tonight. He did love treacle.

Lucius found himself actually looking forward to taking a trip to the tidy muggle neighborhood. It never ceased to amaze him.

But after all, he thought with a shiver of anticipation, it wasn't exactly the neighborhood he was interested in.

What enchantment did she lay over him, he wondered. Why did his thoughts, even swamped with OAN business or even in the quiet of his family home, almost always gravitate towards Hermione Granger?

It was because she was the best hope for the future of the wizarding world, he told himself. Because she was so powerful. Of course that was it.

She was waiting for him when he arrived on her parents' street.

Although there was still a chill in the air, he could see that Hermione was sitting cross-legged on a meager patch of grass that had managed to grow, twisting her fingers in her lap.

As Lucius drew nearer, he felt an emotion that was not his own wash over him. As though she scattered her feelings like feathers in the air.

Automatically, he added that bit of information to his Hermione file.

But his mind beat with the more troubling realization: she was unhappy.

The moment Lucius voiced the thought to himself, Hermione looked up, sensing his presence. She smiled at him so brilliantly that he thought he must have imagined it.

But when he held a hand out to pull her to her feet, Hermione pretended not to see and scooped herself up without meeting his gaze.

As Hermione finally faced him, however, Lucius saw her expression was carefree. She greeted him with her usual kiss and asked him about his day, about Draco, about what he ate for lunch.

As they began walking out of the neighborhood, Lucius went along with it, despite the little anxiety that gnawed at his heart. And he soon put it from his mind: Hermione was her usual bouncy, chattery self.

She was in full flow describing her adventures in the Forbidden Forest when she suddenly interrupted herself, changing the subject without warning. As she did often. "Where are we going, anyway?"

Lucius blinked. "Ah. Diagon Alley. What say we fetch you a wand?"

"For Hogwarts?" Hermione gasped. "Yes, yes, yes! Oh, I've been wanting one. I've actually been practicing waving my hands correctly in the mirror," she confided, "But I always look ridiculous."

"You? Ridiculous? Well," said Lucius with a sly grin. "As I recall, not too long ago you were wearing a sheet bound with a clothespin for a cloak. Now!" He held up a dismissive hand as Hermione scoffed in protest. "Now, I'm not saying a clothespined cloak is ridiculous. I'm just reminding you that it happened."

"Actually," began Hermione, raising a pompous finger in what Lucius had to admit was a fairly good imitation of her old tutor Hogarth, "The clothespin has been used for precisely such purposes since the pixie uprising of the thirteenth century, when those bloody blue creatures stole and hid all the brooches they could find..."

Lucius was doubled with laughter by this point, and Hermione was giggling so hard she could scarcely continue.

The two had stopped by a field. A ray of sunlight had struggled through the early spring clouds and buried itself in Hermione's hair. Lucius, looking down at her strange, almost-beautiful elfin features, realized that he was happy. He felt as though a weight had been lifted from him.

Still chuckling, he reached down to pluck a stray curl from her face. Their eyes met as his finger brushed her cheek. Hermione beamed up at him.

Men will someday fall to their knees before such eyes, Lucius thought, and a cold anger flickered through him without warning.

Lucius quickly pulled back his hand, looking around them. No one was in sight. "Ready to Apparate?"

"More than," Hermione replied. Lucius gripped her fingers and with a pop, brought them to Diagon Alley.

Everyone knew there was ony one place to find a decent wand, and that place was Ollivander's Wand Shop.

The two strolled through the cobbled streets in companionable silence. It was loud and crowded enough so that they weren't recognized, and the two enjoyed the anonymity, brief as it was likely to be. Lucius couldn't tell whether Hermione was apprehensive, as young wizards tended to be, about finding her wand. But she made no comment, and he wasn't keen to press her.

Mr. Ollivander was examining a wand when they opened the door to a cascade of notes in a chord.

"Let me see...cherry wood, ten and a half inches. Nice and swishy. And the core..."

He looked up immediately when he heard the door chime, and Lucius saw his great, moonlike eyes fasten at once on Hermione.

She smiled a birdlike smile. "Mr. Ollivander," she said in shy greeting, with a slight dip of her head.

"I wondered when I would see you, child. Come closer," Ollivander said beckoning. "I've waited a very, very long time for you."

Lucius watched feeling slight unease. What did that mean? Hermione obediently drew closer, and allowed the old man to peer intently into her face.

"Yes, yes," he was murmuring, running hands down her arms. "Just as I thought. Watch that left elbow when you fly, you have a tendency to lock it..."

His scrutiny was so keen that Lucius felt it was time to break it up. "I think it's time you measured and fitted her, Mr. Ollivander."

For the first time, the man turned his pale eyes to Lucius. He paused. Then, for some reason, he seemed faintly amused. "Ah yes, of course. Hermione must be measured." He chuckled, absurdly, and sent Hermione a wink.

Lucius wished he could see Hermione's face, but her back was to him as she faced Olliander. He moved in smoothly behind her and waited patiently as Ollivander drew a tape and took down measurements, this time hardly even sparing the girl a glance.

But Lucius saw it.

He managed to wait until Ollivander disappeared into his shelves, calling behind him "I'll just be a moment, wait there..."

Then he rounded on Hermione.

"Hold out your hands, please."

Hermione, who had been smiling, tensed. "What's the matter, Lucius? I—"

"Hold out your hands," Lucius interrupted firmly.

Her eyes flickered to the exit, which was just a few paces off.

"Now, please." Lucius said.

For a moment, he thought she would disobey. But then Hermione pressed her lips together. Slowly, she raid her hands, palms up.

Lucius loosed a long breath. Her palms were covered in thin welts that were already deepening from bright red to a nasty, bruised purple.

"Hermione," he breathed, sickened.

She wouldn't meet his eyes.

Lucius knelt before her and covered her small hands with his. "What happened?" He asked, and an unusually hard note in his deep voice caused Hermione to meet his eyes.

"I...that is, my..."

Mr. Ollivander, still in the back and oblivious to what was unfolding in his shop, called "Still searching. I'll be just a bit longer..."

Hermione turned her head to his voice, but Lucius took her chin in his hands, forcing her to look at him. He waited.

"My father," Hermione finally whispered. "He was displeased, so..." She nodded down at her hands as though that offered an explanation.

"Why was he displeased, Hermione?"

This time Hermione refused to look at him. "My teachers told him I never play with the other kids. That I only read during playtime."

It was a struggle to keep his tone gentle. "And so he struck you?"

The girl managed a tiny nod. "He thought I was lying to him, when I said I had friends." She examined the dark bruised flowering over her pale skin. "I'd heal it myself, but Father gets angry when I do, says he must not have been strict enough. And he does it again."

Though he fought to keep calm, Lucius' voice had a steely, biting edge. "He shouldn't hurt you."

Hermione looked up. "It's okay, really, I disobeyed..."

But Lucius shook his head coldly. "No."

They heard Ollivander approaching.

Hermione peered at Lucius, biting her lip. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Lucius gave his head a firm shake. "Don't be." He put an arm about her and pressed her briefly against himself. "We'll talk later. Now I want to to be excited about your wand."

Hermione bit her lip and smiled.

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