The first time she felt the fluttering in her stomach, Hermione thought she was coming down with a cold. Abhorring the thought of being sick so close to final exams, she promptly made a visit to Madam Pomfrey's office. Who looked at her. And looked. And peered down her nose in a way that implied sympathy but conveyed pity after Hermione described the feeling in her gut.

"Miss Granger, what you've just described is no ailment at all" Pomfrey stated in a slow, methodical tone, "although some might disagree, I think it's a wonderful thing."

Hermione wrinkled her brow at this. "What do you mean some might disagree Madam Pomfrey? Is there contention in the wizarding medical community?" Hermione asked in a serious, somewhat hushed voice.

Pomfrey allowed a small smile to crack her face a bit, and replied "Not within the medical community, within the world itself—what you have, dear girl, is a "crush". You fancy someone, plain and simple."

The gradient of Hermione's face as she registered these words went from pale white to tomato red in under five seconds. "Oh" she said in a small voice, "a crush". Gathering her things at lightning speed, Hermione rushed to thank Madam Pomfrey for her time and tossed out the obvious lie that she was running late for class. Madam Pomfrey watched as the young girl, brightest witch of her age, scurried out of her office with the new-found knowledge that she was, indeed, a human being with human wants and desires. Hermione, on the other hand, spared no glance behind her. As rushed away, she caught a glimpse of wild black tangles and a billowing cloak before getting a much closer view as she crashed headlong into the figure.

"My, my," said the first which to gain her composure, which happened to be Professor Bellatrix Black, "I should take five points from Gryffindor for such reckless meandering." The dark haired which said this in a bemused tone, even as she dusted herself off from the tumble Hermione had sent her into.

Hermione was about to deliver a retort of her own before recognizing the voice of the figure she crashed in to. Suddenly, all of her Gryffindor courage seemed to vanish and she stared, dumbstruck, as Bellatrix Black rose to her full height and considered the brightest witch of her age. Noticing the direction that the younger witch was apparently coming from, Bellatrix asked, not unkindly, "Are you unwell?"

Finally finding her voice, Hermione answered quickly and somewhat unsteady "Ah, yes I— I was just, there was, um, a problem…a question that I—but, of course, yes, I'm alright. And yourself, professor?" Hermione tried to regain her composure by the hasty addition of the question in what she hoped was a nonchalant attitude.

Professor Black considered the witch once more, this time a little more carefully. Her brow furrowed and she titled her head to the left slightly as she looked, and Hermione could not help but notice that the staircases rearranging themselves had brought a window directly above them, streaming light onto the witches below. She looks like an angel, Hermione thought to herself as she stood, hyper aware that she was being analyzed by the witch in front of her.

"Good," she said at length, nodding towards the direction Hermione had been heading before the crash, "on your way now."

Unaware that the older witch was an experienced legilmens, Hermione rushed off without further embarrassment. Bellatrix Black remained a moment longer in the hall, a befuddled expression on her face and the beginning of a smile on her lips.

Hermione takes a deeper breath than she should in the densely packed Platform 9 3/4. Immediately she has to suppress her gag reflex as she takes in, along with the air, the mingling sweat and odor of the expecting parties waiting for the children to exit the Hogwarts Express. Before she has fully recovered, however, she is once again short of breath as she finds herself enveloped in a pleasantly too-snug embrace. Though she did not see the person currently wrapped around her coming, she should have known to expect this.

"Mrs. Tonks," Hermione says politely into the mass of curls obstructing her view of the outside world, "it is so nice to see you". Though she spoke quietly, and her words were somewhat muffled by the aforementioned curls, Hermione knows she heard her as Andromeda lifts her head and gently reminds,

"Andromeda, dearest, we're past honorifics."

Hermione nods against Andromeda's shoulder. She is always so shy after she gets back from school, Andromeda thinks. Hermione continues to revel in the feeling of safety and the scent of vanilla that always seems to follow the older witch for a moment longer. Then, disentangling, Andromeda gives Hermione a once-over and comments, "You look a bit thin, let's fix that right up, hm?"

"Oh, I'm quite sure I've actually gained a bit of weight with how the school's elves are always bringing me snacks and such" replies Hermione, bashfully.

"Well, then, a light lunch and a steady stream of snacks before dinner tonight won't dent your appetite, then" Andromeda says with a tone of finality as she leads Hermione away from the platform and towards the Tonks residence.

They don't apparate straight there. Andromeda, with her arm linked around Hermione's, weaves them through magical and muggle neighborhoods in companionable silence. This was a routine with them. Andromeda knew Hermione always walked with a purpose, a destination in mind, so she took it upon herself to show the younger witch the joys of the unexpected, unplanned. On their walk they frequently backtracked upon coming to dead-ends, wrongs ways and seedy areas, but they enjoyed the sights and sounds nonetheless. Eventually, in a small magical community just north of London, Andromeda senses Hermione finally begin to relax into the summer evening. When the tension left Hermione's shoulders and her jaw slowly unclenches,, Andromeda grabbed her hand and squeezed in warning before apparating home.

The Tonks' home was an almost modest tudor-style house. The ground floor was laid with brick in an elaborate series of perfectly geometric stars, while the second floor was all stucco with wood trim. The steep cross-gable roof rose stubbornly into the sky, making the house the tallest by far on the block. The first time Hermione had approached this house, she turned to Andromeda wordlessly, an eyebrow raised at the glaring display of perceived superiority. Andromeda had the decency to blush before explaining,

"Teddy likes to work with his hands—he insisted that our first real home together should be as beautiful as the family we'd raise in it"

Hermione smiled at the memory. How many times had she seen the sweet glances between Ted and Andromeda? Countless, by now—and yet, the easy love between the two never failed to stir a genuine warmth within her, and sometimes a pang of envy.

Andromeda, with that uncanny ability of hers, sensed the change in Hermione's thoughts and brought her back to the present with a tug on her hand toward the house. Grateful, Hermione followed, hand in hand, to the door. Inside the witches were treated to a chorus of hellos and one solitary "wotcher", the latter rising above the rest as it came from the top of the staircase in the foyer.

Nymphodora Tonks—Tonks, if you knew what was good for you—clambered down the stairs and enveloped the witches in a messy, awkward hug. She let them go after swaying with them for a moment, then turned to her mother and reported, "Dad's set the kitchen on fire twice, and frozen it once."

"Lovely, I'll go save the pudding from its imminent destruction" replied the eldest witch.

From the kitchen, a voice yelled back "It's called de-construction! It adds a rustic charm!"

Andromeda rolled her eyes and exited the foyer to the left, in the direction of the insistent voice. Tonks and Hermione watched her leave, and the second she was out of earshot Tonks grabbed Hermione's arm and whispered

"Ok, spill your guts."

Trying to keep a cool exterior, Hermione replied "No, thanks, my guts are quiet fine where they are, thank you very much."

Undeterred, Tonks pulled on Hermione's arm to get her up the stairs and to the room they shared every summer. On the landing, they pass by Ofie, one of the two house elves employed by the Tonks. The sight of Ofie's new outifit, a red and gold striped tunic, made Hermione smile at him in passing. Before, when Hermione was still getting used the Tonks' residence, the sight of the house elves used to make her outraged and uneasy. It was Ted who had finally broached the topic with her over breakfast.

In the breakfast nook of the large kitchen sat Hermione and Ted. Ted appeared to be engrossed in one of the many newspapers around him. On the table, discarded to the right of his coffee mug, was the Quibbler. To the left, still untouched was The Daily Prophet as well as a new publication, The Morning Star. Hermione listlessly played with the oatmeal on her plate. Andromeda and Tonks were late risers, leaving Ted and Hermione to their quiet, slightly uncomfortable mornings.

Unexpectedly, Ted cleared his throat, startling Hermione out of her listless state.

"That oatmeal is cruelty-free, you know" He said, not looking away from the paper in his hands.

Not understanding, Hermione simply looked at him and waited for him to continue. Ted methodically refolded the paper along its original creases and added it to the pile on his right. Then, he set his eyes on Hermione and said,

"I know you haven't been with us long but Hermione, if you have concerns you should approach us with them. And you should also know that we would never condone slave labor. Ofie and Auxley have been with us since before Nymphodora was born. Never against their will, and always with the dignity and respect any living creature deserves".

Regaining her composure somewhat, Hermione meets Ted's stare and asks "Do you pay them well?"

"Well above the minimum wage in both the muggle and magical community. As well as paid leave, vacation, and sick days" Ted answers easily and evenly, no judgement or reproach in his voice.

"They are valued members of this household," Ted continues, "and you're still a bit new here, but I'm sure in time you'll see Ofie and Auxley are incredibly opinionated and will not hesitate to tell you if you're on the wrong side of the debate."

Hermione leaned back into her chair. Unconsciously, while Ted had been speaking, her body had gone rigid as she was preparing to launch into a speech on the rights of all magical creatures. Now that Ted had expressed nearly identical views as hers, she relaxed and let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

"So," Hermione said carefully, "What load of ministry propaganda is the Quibbler trying to pass off as journalism this week?"

Ted grinned and handed the paper he had put down only moments before. "See for yourself" he said, handing Hermione the paper. He then picked up The Daily Prophet from his left-hand pile and unfolded the front page.

And that was how Tonks and Andromeda found them when they finally wandered down at a quarter to eleven. The sat across from each other, both engrossed in their respective newspapers and unconsciously mirroring each other's narrow, pinched facial expression as they concentrated on what they were reading.

Ofie interrupted Hermione's train of that with his passing greeting and added, as an afterthought, "Auxley has been looking forward to debate the dragon issue with you again, Miss."

Hermione grinned, "I expect nothing else."

Turning to the left towards the east wing of the house, Tonks led Hermione toward the room at the end of the hall. Once inside, Tonks closed the door and cast a wordless colloportus, the click! of the locks sliding into place the only sound in the otherwise quiet room. Spinning on her heel, Tonks crossed her arms and looked at Hermione expectantly.

Hermione pretended to look torn for a moment, before sighing dramatically and relenting, "Oh okay, okay, but first—" She took out her wand and cast a muffliato. Tonks rolled her eyes good-naturedly and joked,

"Honestly 'Mione, you really ought to practice without the crutches."

Hermione bit back, "Would you rather we discuss the finer points of using a combination of wands and language to create magic versus raw magic or—"

"All right all right no need to make threats! Please, if you could so kindly humor me and spill your blasted guts!" Tonks huffed out, her nose morphing about three times in the space of her outburst.

Taking pity on the girl she considered family, Hermione acquiesced, "So, I take it you recall the letter I sent you after the one where I complained of feeling ill," Tonks looked as if she were about to interject, but at Hermione's glare held her tongue "and the following letter in which the…nature…of the cause of my feeling ill-at-ease was revealed..."

Unable to hold out a retort, Tonks piped, "Goodness you really know how to beat around the bush! What his bloody name already!?"

"Patience, child," and to make the suspense even worse for the easily excitable witch, Hermione added a correction, "and its her name, mind you."

Tonks appeared to lose her steam for a moment, and for a split second Hermione thought, perhaps Tonks held some prejudice or felt uncomfortable—but no, in another second there were tears springing from her eyes and and arms wrapped around her middle and Hermione wondered how she could ever doubt her closest friend in the world.

"Mione you have no idea how happy you've just made me!" Thinking perhaps she misunderstood, Hermione started to speak but was quickly cut off by Tonks joyful admission, "Dad owes mum and I 20 galleons each!". Hermione sputtered at this, not fully comprehending the implication behind the words. A few moments later, her brain caught up to her and she shot up, out of Tonks' embrace and demanded to know how they knew, when they knew, and why in the world didn't they say anything?

"It's not a big deal, really, we had the bet going in good fun about when you'd finally come out with already, honest. We knew since that festival in the Hallows with the veelas two winter solstices ago," Hermione blushed at the memory, her one reprieve from that embarrassing moment was that no one else had seen how she had reacted to the ensnaring spectacle, "and then there was the absolute obliviousness with that Weasley boy." this Hermione had no recollection of, "We didn't say anything because we wanted you to come to us, but after last year we figured we might as well make it interesting."

"I see" Hermione said slowly, considering her next words carefully, "and so, your parents—"

"—just as much yours as they are mine, I'd reckon—"

"—don't mind?"

"Merlin Hermione they bloody love you! I'm pretty sure they prefer you to me, to be honest."

Hermione smiled and allowed the words to sink in; then, her curious nature prompted her to ask, "So what where the parameters of the bet, anyhow?"

"Well," Tonks began, a bit sheepishly, "Dad thought it would take you at least another year until you told us, whilst mum and I thought that this would be the year."

"What's so special about this year?" Hermione asked, genuinely confused.

"You've just finished your fourth year, which means you're about to be 16, which is when we fall in love, statistically speaking," Tonks explained as if it were a well-known fact.

"Care to enlighten me on where these statistics came from?"

"Us!"

At Hermione's puzzled face, Tonks continued "Mum met dad when she was 16, and I met Remus the week after I turned 16!"

"Two coincidences hardly account to the soundness of a rule of thumb; besides, your mum hated your dad on site—and you didn't even have a proper conversation with Lupin until you were 18" Hermione concluded with an air of finality.

"Love is love, even if we can't recognize it as such in the moment." was Tonk's only rejoinder as she leaned back on the headboard of her bed, looking at Hermione expectantly, "Now I believe all your clever retorts have derailed the ritual spilling of guts long enough—on with it!"

Hermione allowed a small grin to cross her face before schooling her features into one of serious concentration and whispering conspiratorially, "Ok, since there was quite the age gap between you and Lupin when you met, you don't get to judge this age difference—"

"Oooh an older woman! 'Mione you little minx!"

Hermione blushed a blooming, deep rose and soldiered on with her confession as the butterflies came back with a vengeance at the mere thought of the subject of her infatuation "She's, erm, well, we've had some encounters," Hermione looked up from her lap as she let the words rush out and regretted her choice of words as she registered the devious look on Tonk's face, "Nothing like what you're thinking! It's all been completely respectable instances of being in the same place at the same time and we have conversations about things I didn't even know we had in common like—like she reads muggle poetry! And, well, it's hard to put into words really, but she's on my wavelength."

"You lost me there, Hermione," Hermione cursed silently, remembering that the magical community had very limited vocabulary when it came to physics and muggle theories.

"Well, let me put it this way—remember those block thingies with the antennas I showed you last summer?"

"The one that trapped your voice, I remember."

"We've been over this; my voice was not 'trapped', it simply traveled, because sound is a wave, and because I spoke into the receiver, which transported the audio to the machine in your hands, playing it at the same time—we don't have to get into the details right now," Tonks looked incredibly relieved to hear that, "the important thing is the connection. How you were even able to hear me from the distance between us—it has to do with frequency. Both of the machines had the same frequency—which means the wavelengths matched up, allowing for the line of communication."

Tonks looked up to the ceiling as she processed this, then looked back at Hermione as said, "So you've got a connection."

"Yes—I mean, I think so…I don't hear her voice in my head or anything, but I always seem to know when she's about to walk in to a room or if the room is full of people, I know exactly which direction to turn to in order to see her," Hermione said this in a rush, excited to finally have someone to share this discovery with.

"This girl got a name?"

"She's…well she's a professor."

Tonks jerked to attention at this; "Merlin Hermione is this a joke?" At Hermione's perplexed and slightly hurt expression, she added more gently, "I only mean, that's a serious problem, if anything were to happen…when you said she was older I thought maybe a seventh year…"

"Oh I know the rules Tonks, don't think they haven't kept me awake at night" Hermione jumped to the wrong end of the other witch's concerns.

"No, I meant emotionally—fancying someone in a position of authority is tricky business" Tonks replied, unusually serious and, in Hermione's mind, a tad overdramatic.

"Oh," Hermione replied, feeling a bit silly, "I'm sure I'll be fine. In a way I think this is actually good for me; my first taste of strong romantic attraction, and the subject is someone unattainable and therefore safe—what could go wrong?"

Tonks looked at her with a fleeting expression of something she couldn't quiet trace; it was gone from her face in an instant, as well as her previous nose. She now sported an adorable button-nose, which she wrinkled and wriggled for a moment before asking, again, "Name?"

"Bellatrix Black."