"I should have trusted you."

Hermione looked up at the whispered words, eyeing Andromeda as she gazed into the fire.

They were at the Fort (a name Hermione had quickly adopted in favor of simplicity), and it had been a rough couple of days since the events at Lestrange Manor. The bloody mess that had been left behind had been dealt with. James had suggested vanishing the bodies of both Bellatrix and her husband and Hermione had agreed at first. The bodies might have been empty vessels, but there were too many dark rituals that allowed bones to be used in one way or another. Andy had no qualms about Rodolphus, but she had hesitated with Bellatrix, because after all that had been said and done – she had still been Andy's sister. Her parents might not have been the paradigm of love and respect, but Andy had felt that if they just vanished Bellatrix's body, it would raise more questions than they might be comfortable with.

Bellatrix's whereabouts might not have been known except by her immediate family or Voldemort, but Hermione seriously doubted Bellatrix had told him anything about her plans. Something that was bound to be rare for someone as zealously loyal as Bellatrix. Rare and perhaps, suspicious.

So, she had wondered. When would questions about Bellatrix's whereabouts start surfacing? And more importantly, who would be sent to find her when her uncharacteristic disappearance came to light? Especially when her husband was also nowhere to be found?

Rabastan Lestrange was not someone they could underestimate.

But she and Andy had agreed in the end – they had vanished her sister's body, it had been the best option. But not before Hermione had snatched a couple of hairs on Bellatrix's head.

False leads, she had explained. Vanishing her body without a single trail was one thing, but if they could scatter evidence of Bellatrix's whereabouts, it might be a different story.

Over the course of next week, they had become Bellatrix through Polyjuice potion and gone to different places. They had left a trail. Bellatrix would hardly parade around, but a glimpse would have to do. The first sighting had been in Knockturn Alley, then the magical village near the Lestrange Manor. Onwards, Hermione had travelled to Albania and a few other haunts Bellatrix had visited frequently. Her adopting Bellatrix's style and manner had been easier this time around.

James had complained viciously about becoming Bellatrix, but he had done a fairly good job. Remus and Lily had been better at hiding their disdain.

The idea had been to show Bellatrix had been up to something, and they had succeeded. The last trail had been in Romania. Whoever tracked her to Romania, would know the trail had gone cold there.

"I should have tried to earn your trust." Hermione explained, sighing softly. She had planned on dealing with Andy and bring her into the fold so to speak, but it had been secondary to the myriad of problems she was always confronted with.

But still, she felt guilty.

Maybe, there were some deaths she would never be able to prevent.

Andy waved her off.

"I don't blame you. I could have just come to you, especially after the amulet. Perhaps it was a matter of pride, how could a teenager help us? Ted…and I talked about it. We wanted to approach you, but then Bellatrix became suspicious and all of our efforts became about protecting our family." Andy exclaimed, shaking her head. Her grey eyes fixed on Hermione.

"I knew you did not believe in blood purity and that your views were different. However, I did not know the extent of your rebellion." Andy said, gesturing around the study of the Manor. "I thought you were just a nonconformist, but you are a warrior. You are not just causing our family some old-fashioned trouble, you are trying to bring down this archaic world. You are trying to bring down Voldemort."

It was not a question but Hermione nodded her head.

Was her future knowledge of any use in the light of everything? She could rely on Voldemort and his methods. She could rely on his obsession with being invincible. But she could not rely on her timeline's collateral damage.

"Ted would have loved to be a part of something like this." Andy whispered. Her gaze softened as she looked at the child sprawled on her lap, sleeping. Nymphadora Tonks had been the newest addition at the Fort. After a private funeral with the Tonks, both mother and daughter had been moved to the Fort for their own protection. A daughter's heartbreak over the loss of her father was never a sight anyone wanted to see. It was cruel and unfair. But little Nymphadora was strong and brave. She clung to her mother, she mourned her father, but she took it in stride.

Perhaps she was too young to understand everything.

But she scowled every time anyone called her Nymphadora and insisted her name was just Tonks. They had all started calling the metamorphmagus Dora instead, which had been deemed acceptable by her.

"How is everything at Grimmauld Place?" Andy asked, wincing slightly as Nymphadora moved and almost fell out of her lap.

"Better now that Arcturus and the others have plans to move to the renovated Manor in Lancashire. They have deemed it appropriate enough. Good thing too, they are less focused on my whereabouts now." Hermione answered, scowling slightly.

Despite the fact that killing Bellatrix had been the right thing, it was still a necessary evil. Hermione had to witness Cygnus and Druella Black mask their concerns about two missing daughters. Of course, they did so with a cold indifference, but they were still their children. Narcissa, who had visited the Grimmauld Place twice since then, was paler than before and tried her best to hide her concerns. She would stare at Hermione sometimes and Hermione did not know what to make of her gaze. Was it a searching one or an accusatory one? Narcissa had volunteered the information Hermione had acted upon, but did Narcissa suspect that she had saved one sister's life at the cost of the other sister?

There were even more pressing concerns.

The Blacks had not been present at the thwarted Goblin family attack. Was that a sign for Voldemort's suspicions? Or had Bellatrix and Sirius been tasked with doing something else entirely? The latter was most likely. But if that were so, Bellatrix had pretty much disobeyed Voldemort's order when she had started obsessively hunting down her sister and Ted. From what Andy had told them, it had been a couple of weeks.

Hermione did not know what Sirius did with his time, probably something illegal and suspicious, but he had earned the trust of the Dark Lord at a very young age. Voldemort had entrusted the cup in Sirius's hands and not Bellatrix, which in itself was a revelation. Voldemort trusted Sirius with his soul and Bellatrix had joined the Death Eaters when Sirius had been a young boy.

What had Sirius done to warrant such a confidence?

Could it simply be that Sirius was the heir and hence in charge of the Black family fortune and Voldemort knew that?

But no, that was too simplistic for a megalomaniac like Tom Riddle.

Bellatrix had been passionately loyal.

But actions spoke louder that words.

So it came down to the same question.

What had Sirius done to warrant such a confidence?

Hermione was starting to feel that she might not necessarily want that question answered.

"And how is my family?" Andy was asking.

"Aloof as always, but somewhat anxious. When did you tell your family you were going to be back from your trip?"

"January." Andy answered, frowning. "Why?"

"Because its one thing for Bellatrix to have completely disappeared. She is dead. But both of you? If you fail to return, what would happen?" Hermione asked, shifting in her seat.

"You mean if I don't turn up, it would look like I am also involved in Bellatrix's disappearance?"

"Not exactly. We have left a trail for her, and you told your family you would return in January. Whoever will hunt down Bellatrix will know for sure that she has disappeared, but if you don't show up, they will start suspecting you. Your family and Rabastan Lestrange know that Bellatrix has been forcing you about marriage. She has been quite insistent. You go for a trip and a week later Bellatrix and her husband disappear and you don't come back?"

"When you put it that way, it definitely does look suspicious." Andy nodded. She sighed and used her hand to brush Dora's bright pink hair back. "You are saying I should go back?"

Hermione shook her head.

"I am saying we might have a bigger problem if you don't show up. But you are safe here. If that is what you wish for, the Fort will always protect you and Dora."

"But to what end, Hermione?" Andy exclaimed. "Hide out here till this war ends? Or face my parents knowing I killed my sister?"

"Her blood is not on your hands, Andy." Hermione stated in a firm tone. "She killed your husband. You only forced her to repeat her horrid actions."

"Murder is still murder no matter what name you call it."

"Do you regret it?" Hermione asked, eyebrows raised.

"No." Andy replied resolutely.

"Would you do it again?" Hermione questioned.

"Absolutely." Andy responded with a firm nod. She relaxed her clenched fists and looked at Hermione quizzically.

"Are you saying there is an actual choice for me? Stay or go back?"

"I am saying it isn't over. Despite the contract, you could have run away years ago. Why didn't you?"

At least that was what had happened in her timeline. Andy's elopement with Ted had fewer repercussions, her name had been blasted off and she had never spoken to any of the Blacks ever again.

"You are right. The Contract would not have allowed any forced marriages, but if I had declared to everyone that I had married a Muggleborn, my family would have probably lost their magic entirely. They would have retaliated, trust me. And they would have paid the price. Despite all that they are, it is not fair to Regulus. Or to Narcissa. I stayed because of my family, because in spite of the bad, there is something good there that is worth salvaging."

Hermione smiled slightly.

"And now?"

"I will come back if that is best for my family." Andy claimed, gazing at her daughter.

She looked at Hermione, her previous melancholy forgotten.

"You asked my sister about an object. Why?"

Hermione thought of the best way to answer.

"Tom Riddle is obsessed with immortality. He has gone quite far to achieve it. I suspect these objects that he gave to Sirius and Lucius play a role in it."

There was no way for Hermione Dagworth-Granger to know such things. Truth was not acceptable here, not when things were different and Voldemort had so many spies scattered all around. It was a burden she had to bear. But she had to start tracking down the horcruxes and that could not be done just by herself. Her role as a Guardian helped people trust her and rely on her. However, she knew how lack of information could be frustrating.

Hermione Granger had a lot of reasons for killing Voldemort.

Hermione Dagworth-Granger had none.

Why would an eighteen-year old be raging a vicious war against a psychopath? One she had never even met before coming to England?

She could always say she was a Seer, but telling people that would be dangerous for her as well. She had no doubt in her mind that her timeline had been destroyed to avail the chances this timeline represented. Everything that had gone wrong had started during Voldemort's reign of terror. It only made sense that Voldemort should be defeated during this time and not twenty years later.

Which meant Tom Riddle, his horcruxes and his Death Eaters needed to be destroyed.

A task that was going to be difficult enough without everyone questioning her knowledge.

Hence, she made a plan.

Horace Slughorn was a member of MESOP, being the brilliant potioneer that he was. While he was still teaching at Hogwarts and remained at his post, Slughorn had been friends with Hector Dagworth-Granger. It was a friendship that was quite prized by Slughorn. With an established connection, all Hermione had to do was force the dots to connect.

Known for his drunken stupors, Slughorn had once confessed to his great friend Hector about his worries over a certain ex-student of his, a couple of years ago. Now this student, Tom Riddle had been quite brilliant and on his way to become a great wizard. Except, no one had seen or heard from him in years and that disturbed poor old Horace. He feared for his student. He dreaded a certain conversation they had had whilst at Hogwarts and Horace believed it might have come true. Horace Slughorn believed that Tom Riddle might have actually made a horcrux and was possibly on his way to create seven of them. Well, of course Horace had forgotten all about this conversation but his friend Hector had remembered every word. He had been sure to note it down in his diary, later to be found by his niece.

Well, as far as bullshit went, Hermione thought this story was not half bad. No one would question Hector as he was dead and no one would question Slughorn because despite the conversation never having taken place, the content was still true. If, say Dumbledore were to hear this story and question its authenticity, he would question Slughorn and his reaction would be enough for someone as smart as Dumbledore.

Slughorn really did have drunken stupors.

Tom Riddle really did ask Slughorn about horcruxes.

The facts checked out and Hermione planted the lie. It wouldn't be too far-fetched to say Hector had withdrawn from the society because of this looming threat and not because of his declining health and his desire to stay closer to his only granddaughter. And it would certainly not be a big leap if one assumed Hector had been secretly enquiring after Tom Riddle before his abrupt death.

Now, Hermione Dagworth-Granger too had a reason for destroying Voldemort.

Hermione explained the story to Andy, who looked equally horrified and worried.

Hermione had told the similar story to the Potters and the Lupins recently. She needed them on board with what was coming next, and she could not just ask them to trust her word. Granted she was not being honest, but she was being honest about everything that mattered.

She wondered when her moral compass had become skewed.

But then she thought of her fifth year and Umbridge and Marietta and knew her morals had never stood a chance when she had to protect the people she loved.

And it was still true.

Being loyal sometimes came with a price and morals had no place in a war.

Or at least that was what she would keep telling herself until the war was over.

The events of last week had all of them rattled. Especially after what Hermione had told them of the objects she had questioned Bellatrix about. Hermione had given them a few details. She told them about Hector Dagworth-Granger and Horace Slughorn. Lily had been horrified to note that one of her favourite professors was involved in something like this.

Then, she had showed them a diadem encased in a glass box. She had scowled at it and told them what it was.

A horcrux.

Euphemia had been there with them and her face had turned ashen at the word.

While Euphemia had haltingly explained what she knew a horcrux was, Hermione had continued to glare at the diadem.

They had been quite surprised to know this had been the lost diadem. After Hermione had explained what Tom Riddle had done to Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem, Lily could at once understand Hermione's deep revulsion and hatred for someone who had despoiled a priceless heirloom.

Lily was still mourning the loss of knowledge the defilement had meant.

She remembered the conversation.

"So, this is what he has been doing?" Euphemia asked, staring at the diadem in wonder and pity.

James, Lily and Remus were still hung up on the description of how horcrux was made and what it did to the soul. Euphemia had not gone into much detail, but they could understand the hidden meaning.

It was the foulest magic.

"Yes. Although I think this one was the easiest one to retrieve."

Lily felt bile rise in her throat.

"This one?!" James exclaimed in horror. "You mean to tell us there are more?"

"Yes." Hermione replied gravely.

"How many more?"

"This one and then two are with Sirius and Lucius. He was going to give another one to Bellatrix , so I reckon around 4 or more, not counting the part that currently resides inside him. Slughorn talked about how the magical number 7 seemed to fascinate Riddle."

"Fucking hell!" Remus swore, eyes bulging. His sentiment had been felt by everyone.

Hermione had ensured them the best way for Voldemort to be destroyed was to make sure he had no knowledge that his horcruxes were missing or going to be. Once they had them, they could be destroyed by Fiendfyre.

Hermione had tasked Lily and Remus into finding the Gaunt family's heirlooms and houses, explaining that Tom Riddle was the son of a squib from that house. She explained to them that Tom Marvolo Riddle was a Muggle name but the Marvolo part not so much. They had understood where Hermione had been going with that – Riddle was a half-blood, and they needed to discredit him. Only a few people knew Voldemort was Riddle, but the need for concrete proof was essential. But to their combined frustration, the research wasn't going well. The Gaunts had only few things that had somehow come into their own family by marriage and of the few Gaunt riches that had remained, most of them had been usurped by the other wealthier Pureblood families. Marvolo and Morfin Gaunt had died some time ago, and there had been next to no record of the sister – the squib Hermione had been talking about. Remus and Lily had decided to scout out the places Gaunts had or used to have.

Lily knew that the Gaunts were from the line of Slytherin. She felt that was important, as Voldemort had made one of the most treasured possessions of Rowena's into a horcrux. Remus agreed with her theory. Tom Riddle was obsessed with the founders of Hogwarts.

James had been given a different task. Hermione had asked him to find a space of land that could endure a Fiendfyre attack. There should be no Muggle or Magical towns nearby, not even a forest, wildlife, river or mountain. Just a piece of land, with nothing for miles and miles. James had been exploring a couple of places. He couldn't use International Portkey or Apparition as that would raise some questions.

Hermione was still being cautious about visiting too often and most of their conversations were done via amulets. Tomorrow, Hermione had to go to the Malfoy Manor for the New Year's Ball. She suspected Lucius had probably hidden the horcrux there.

Hermione told them no one was questioning Bellatrix's absence yet although the Blacks and all the extended family appeared to be more restless than was normal.

Disguised elation had been the term Hermione had used with great disdain.

Lily could not wait until the entire entourage had settled in their new Manor.

Lily had wondered why the Blacks did not suspect Hermione had been involved in the burning down of the Menaçant Manor. The revel the day before had pretty much changed things. They had known Hermione had a close relationship with Fleamont Potter. He had been Hermione's first Witness, for Morgana's sake. The Death Eaters (Sirius, mostly) had been responsible for his death. To their knowledge, Fleamont had been murdered by the killing curse long before the Manor had burned down.

Sirius, Bellatrix and Lucius had all been present that night. They had seen Hermione get inducted, so to speak.

Did they truly not suspect her or had they simply dismissed the girl?

Lily suspected Hermione had used Fiendfyre, there was no other way the Manor would have been destroyed so completely. If she had been successful once, it made sense she was ready to destroy the horcruxes that way once they got them. Lily kept her suspicions to herself though. Because if Hermione had controlled Fiendfyre the way she had, she was a lot more powerful and resourceful than what others gave her credit for.

Most of all, the Blacks.

Perhaps they did not understand fierce loyalty if it wasn't disguised as slavery.

But Hermione's suspicions over the Blacks' restlessness were soon discovered.

Two days ago, there had been a brutal attack on a small muggle town. To the Order's immense confusion, everyone had been slaughtered and there had no been bodies of children while evidence showed them the village had at least ten young children. If they had been abducted, what use would Muggle children be to Death Eaters? Lily's heart ached at the possibilities that rushed through her mind. Even in her worst expectations, she knew the Death Eaters were capable of this.

But it still did not mean she understood how someone was capable of hurting a child.

Thinking this was worth investigating, Lily had decided to spend her day tracking down all of the other villages or towns that had suffered through the same attacks and see if there was a pattern. That meant her entire day was spent shuffling from Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes to DMLE and vice versa.

She was not surprised at her findings. Some of villages had been massacred, some of them even magical. And in a lot cases, children had gone missing. Sometimes one or two, and sometimes more. She concluded they were missing because according to the reports, the Aurors responsible would always declare the remains of children were not found. Lily knew there would be a difference in a home that had children versus one that did not. Magic was able to tell them if there was a body or not. Muggle could hardly file reports of missing kids if their entire families had been slaughtered. They would just assume the kids had perished too.

The Auror office, however, had concluded that in case of missing bodies, the child in question might have run away.

Lily scoffed at the reports. It was one thing for children to run away once, any more than that was a pattern. And why would the Auror Office care about missing Muggle children? Alive or dead, it was all the same to them never mind that wizard kind had been responsible for the said slaughter in the first place.

She compiled her notes and tried to bite down her anger. She looked around and noticed she had stayed longer than she had intended to. The Auror offices were almost deserted, it was the middle of the holidays after all and on-call duties had been reduced. James, Lily, Frank and Alice had been the ones who had taken on the added responsibility from the recruit level.

Alice and Frank had already left some time ago.

James had a day off today.

She quickly sent him a patronus telling him she was running late.

The night shift personnel were settling in as Lily left the office. She had already checked in with Dorcas, who was also working late.

They had decided to meet up in a café near the Ministry.

Lily shivered against the cold gush of wind as she walked towards the café. It was snowing.

She mulled over the missing children. Something felt off with these disappearances. Her persistent sense of déjà vu was strangely absent these days and she did not understand why. Lily and James had talked about their connection a few days ago and that had been one of the strangest conversations she had ever had. They had agreed that they both felt each other's magic and sometimes other people's too. One thing James had said had really stuck out.

There is never just one way to do something, right? Magic is all intent. The reason magic feels so different might be because our perception of it has changed.

Lily had to give James credit for that. Magic did feel different. When she had first joined Hogwarts, she knew magic could be sentient but the only time she had felt that was when she was using her wand. It was only after fifth year when she started relying on wandless magic. Like when she was younger and did not need a wand to make a flower bloom or dance. She had started feeling that Magic was more than just a part of her; it was alive and it felt everything that happened. So if Magic could really feel, were the spells done by witches and wizards stimulus for it? For it to lash out or accept? Was Magic an endless river which gave as good as it got? Where the users borrowed from its banks and abused its existence? If so, every kind of magic that killed or harmed another soul was just another body polluting the river.

The water itself had not been bad, the opposite really, but the infestation had made it bad.

How long before Magic had enough and dried out its banks?

Lily wished that day would never come.

She shook herself out her her thoughts and entered the café. A warm burst of air greeted her and there was fresh smell of coffee. She sighed internally.

She spotted a booth Dorcas was already occupying and started moving towards it.

"I am sorry I am late!" Lily exclaimed, taking her woollen scarf and coat off. She put them on the long seat and pushed it forwards so she could sit down.

She shook off the snow from her hair and looked at Dorcas who was frowning at her.

Dorcas waved her apology off.

"I met Mary today." she started, her tone grave.

"And?" Lily prompted as she flagged down a waiter.

Dorcas did not say another word until both of them had placed their orders.

"She went to his place, to surprise him. But he wasn't there. Guess what? His mother is completely fine and she told Mary Peter has not stayed with her for days now. She assumed he was staying with the Potters."

"What did Mary do?" Lily inquired.

"Came straight to me. She said something wasn't right with Peter. I think, she is beginning to suspect him."

Lily raised her eyebrows.

"Really?"

"Yes. If someone as trusting as Mary is beginning to suspect something, we know something is up. I think she was tipped off because she was there the day Marlene's m-, and huh, the others were uh – they were dis-." Dorcas frowned as the Fidelius tongue tied her. "Wow, this spell is strong. But you understand the day I am referring to right?"

"Yes, I do." Lily answered. "And its strong because Hermione did not want the people who knew to talk about it amongst themselves even. Some people of the Order obviously. James is having a great time trying to think of ways to say things without actually revealing anything. Only when Hermione is present can we talk about it without stuttering through the phrases."

Dorcas nodded.

"My point is that Peter was not there. That coupled with how strange he is being these days, its bound to be suspicious."

"What did you tell her about him?"

"Nothing. I doubt Peter suspects Mary knows anything." Dorcas replied. "If Mary continues on as usual, he will never think something is wrong."

"But do we want Mary to continue on as usual?" Lily questioned, biting her lower lip.

"It is not the ideal situation, yes but it can't be helped. I think Mary will go to Moody next time she suspects something. She came to me and I told her its just Peter. If I had told her to watch out, she would have gotten fearful and Mary has never been a good actress. Everyone noticed his limp the other day and people have started noticing his absences, especially now that James and Remus aren't covering for him. We need to play it safe. Start by telling him small things, they might be truth or lies. I told Mary that I suspected Mundungus was responsible for Fleamont's kidnapping. Mary knows he is alive. But, Peter does not."

"Ah. That will make Peter believe that we suspect Mundungus is the mole. He might try to pin some blame on him when it all goes down."

Dorcas nodded.

"He will be eager to throw even more suspicions on him and eventually, he will get careless."

"So, we keep telling him small things and see what he makes of them?" Lily questioned, frowning thoughtfully. "Next, you can tell Mary that you saw a glimpse of Bellatrix Lestrange in Albania when you had gone there for work."

Dorcas started at her, eyes narrowed slightly.

"Will you tell me more?"

Lily shook her head.

"Not yet, I think."

"Alright, then." Dorcas conceded. "I can hardly expect you to spill your secrets when I cannot tell you mine."

Their food arrived and soon they both got busy. While they ate, Lily filled Dorcas in on the missing children. Dorcas was intrigued as well.

"But children?" Dorcas probed, scrunching her nose in distaste. "Why would they want to hurt them?"

"Well, Voldemort and his Death Eaters stand for blood purity and all that rot." Lily explained, rolling her eyes. "They think Muggles are filth, right? The only type of Muggles they are interested are Muggleborns, because apparently we have stolen their magic and–"

Lily stopped as her eyes widened. She pushed her plate away.

"Oh." she said softly.

"You don't think?" Dorcas asked, horrified.

"I do – yes, I do think it might be possible." Lily countered. "Think! Our year had how many Muggleborns? Five? And that had been a lower number as compared to the other years. Remember last year's sorting? I don't recall a single name I heard that was unknown in the Wizarding World."

"But the situation has been escalating now. Families have been frightened to send their children anywhere."

"Wizarding families, Dorcas. Muggle families would have no idea something was amiss in our world and they would have sent their children. Everything has been relatively safe, all these attacks started in our sixth year. How could have any of the Muggle families been warned off that none of them have sent their children?"

"Missing Muggleborn children and no one has noticed?"

"It's not like we know about our magic until we're eleven. Wizarding world doesn't pay attention to them until they have to go to Hogwarts." Lily criticized. This had always been a sore point for her. The lack of acclimatization and the lack of knowledge.

"They only pay attention to them once they are eleven, yes. So, last year they have no Muggleborn first years and they think it is an anomaly." Dorcas considered, wiping the condensation on her glass.

"What about this year?" Lily inquired.

"The Book of Admittance!" Dorcas exclaimed. She leaned closer. "It records every magical birth, names and addresses. It would probably note down deaths too! It has to make sure the right people are sent the letters."

"We need to talk to McGonagall." Lily declared.

Dorcas nodded solemnly.

"I'll send her a Patronus once I get home. I will ask her about the Muggleborns and how many deaths have been recorded next to them. We will know for sure."

Lily sighed miserably.

Things just kept getting worse.

Sirius Black entered his house with a manic look in his eyes.

The bloody elf took one look at his enraged features, squeaked and popped away.

He paid no heed to his mother's voice as she called him.

No.

His target was upstairs.

He took two stairs at a time as he all but stomped towards the room, dignity forgotten. All the lessons his mother had drilled into him since he had been a child were of no use. At times of extreme turmoil, they always failed him. He always resorted to the instinct that told him to be impetuous, damn the consequences.

He was surprised that his brother was not lurking about, something he was wont to do whenever Hermione was around.

Belatedly did he realize the time, he had left the Dark Lord only moments ago. It was close to five in the evening. Something tingled at the back of his mind about tonight. Something important.

Disregarding the thought, he quickly strode towards his brother's room. The wards went down and he entered the room and promptly stopped, bewildered by the sight that met him.

His wife, Hermione Dagworth-Granger was curled up on the duvet, sleeping soundly.

He stared at her as she slept.

For the first time that night and perhaps in a long time, he felt a strange calmness envelop him. His eyes narrowed as he attempted to rationalize the reason for the sudden shift. His rage had been potent before but it was ebbing away. His impulsiveness though, was still present.

His violent rage forgotten, he moved towards the bed and as he tried to get closer, a proximity ward touched him and singed his arms.

He cursed and took a step back.

Bloody witch! He thought venomously. Of course she had warded herself against him.

He scowled.

Hermione seemed to have silenced the area around her too, for she did not stir.

Sirius heard footsteps come near the door and whipped around.

Regulus was standing in the hallway, staring at his brother in surprise and then in dawning horror as his eyes swept over the sleeping figure and then back to him.

Sirius waved his hand and the door slammed shut.

He put the strongest wards up.

There was no way his wife was escaping the conversation he wanted to have with her tonight.

He called Kreacher and gave him specific instructions. The elf bowed his head almost hesitatingly and vanished.

He made himself comfortable on the chair.

But he did not have to wait a second longer as Hermione shot up in the bed, clutching her wrist. His eyes narrowed but he could barely see anything beyond the sleeve of her long robe.

Hermione looked tense, her posture rigid. She looked around and just as her eyes met him, she relaxed.

"Oh, it's just you." she said dismissively.

And just like that, the rage that had been his shadow for so long boiled under the surfaced.

"Yes, just your husband." he bit back.

Hermione arched an eyebrow.

"You are talking as if you understand what that means."

"Because you are a paradigm of wifely virtues." Sirius countered in a clipped tone.

For a second, just a second, he thought he saw flash of amusement in Hermione's eyes. But he might have imagined it.

"Oh, I believe I am doing better than you. So far I haven't tried to kill you or your family. That takes a lot of patience." Hermione responded smoothly.

Sirius ignored the strong urge he had to roll his eyes. Not for the first time he wondered if Hermione had been inserted in his life to infuriate him beyond reason.

Hermione seemed to notice the warded door and raised her eyebrows at him.

"You do realize you can't keep me your prisoner? I can break these wards." Hermione stated.

"Be that as it may. I just wanted to make sure we weren't disturbed." he replied, taking the edge off his tone. "We haven't had a chance to…talk in a while."

Hermione gave him an unimpressed glance before she clutched her wrist for a second and closed her eyes.

Kreacher popped in and placed the tea tray on the table. For a suspended moment, he glanced back at his mistress and Sirius thought he might–

But then he vanished.

Sirius gestured towards the table.

But Hermione was staring, deep in thought, at the space Kreacher had been standing. Her expression cleared and she rose from the bed gracefully, walking slowly and took a seat in the chair near him.

Sirius served them both tea.

For a few minutes silenced reigned, where Hermione stared at nowhere in particular and Sirius stared at Hermione.

She finished the last of her shortcake and straightened up. She reached out for the cup of tea and toasted it in his direction.

"Let the interrogation begin." she declared and promptly took a sip.

Sirius could not help it. A flash of deep admiration took root in him and he could not help but be enthralled. Unlike him, there wouldn't have been a choice for Hermione. If she had gone to Hogwarts with him, she would have been a Gryffindor through and through.

His eyebrows furrowed.

If she knew there was something in the cup, why had she taken it? She could be immune to the effects of Veritaserum or simply because she felt she had nothing to hide from him.

The former could not be true, this Veritaserum was a stronger brew than the usual ones given it was Snape's own recipe and he had brewed it himself before giving it to Kreacher.

The latter could also not be true, because Sirius knew Hermione had much to hide.

Was this another elaborate game?

But this time, Sirius was ready. The odds would be in his favour and he had made sure of that.

"Why would you take that if you knew what it was?" he asked, unable to take the incredulous tone out of his question.

But Hermione's eyes sparkled.

"Call it idle curiosity."

"How did you know what it was?" he questioned, his eyes narrowed.

Hermione seemed to struggle with an answer before responding and that's when Sirius knew the potion had taken full effect.

"I recognize the smell. You do realize I am a famous potioneer's granddaughter?" Hermione countered.

Sirius noticed how the potion did not stop the condescending tone Hermione had injected into her reply.

"What is your relationship with the Potters?" he asked next.

Hermione was giving him another 'are-you-daft' look.

"They are my family." Hermione answered slowly as if speaking to a child.

Sirius ignored to prickle of annoyance.

"I know that." he answered with clenched teeth. "How did it come to happen?"

Hermione took a deep breath before answering, a faraway look in her eyes.

"Well, I suppose the answer to that is simply magic. It doesn't matter where or what you are, Magic always know the bonds deeply hidden in every being. The Potters had been my family long before I met them here. The bond was always there, it only took our meeting for it to make its appearance so to say."

Sirius stared at her in silence, his mind going over her words.

"Do you want me to explain magical theory of bonds?" Hermione asked flippantly.

"No." Sirius retorted. "And my brother? What is your relationship with him?"

"The same as the Potters. We are family." Hermione stated, shifting in her seat.

"And the same courtesy doesn't extend to me?" Sirius almost snapped. He waited with baited breath as he had thought Hermione might struggle with the answer. But she answered immediately–

"No." Hermione answered almost lazily. Then, she titled her head as she gave him with a shrewd look. "You are telling me you used a perfect vial of Veritaserum to ask me such inane questions?"

For a second, Sirius thought she had been interrogating him.

He glowered at her.

"Those were just a warm-up, sweetheart." he answered with ice in his tone. He leaned towards her and he caught her gaze. "What do you know of the Order of the Phoenix?"

"Next to nothing." Hermione answered, smiling slowly. "Only that they exist and they do not trust me. Amusing, isn't it? But then, I am the wife of a Death Eater, I suppose."

"And the Potters trust you?"

"Obviously."

"How does that happen? How does one happen without the other?"

Hermione snorted in amusement. Sirius felt like he had missed a bloody joke. It had probably been at his own expense.

"The Order and the Potters are not exactly symbiotic." Hermione replied, rolling her eyes.

Sirius filed that information away for later. There were two important things he wanted to ask, he decided to go with a lesser one first.

"Did you have anything to do with the destruction of Menaçant Manor?" Sirius questioned. He stared at her without blinking worried he might miss the infinitesimal change in expressions on her face.

"Only in wishes I suppose." Hermione answered softly.

"Beg pardon?" Sirius said, taken aback.

"Given what happened the night before the…accident, I certainly did wish the whole bloody Manor would be destroyed. A terrible turn of events, can't say I'll miss the place though."

"Even though it harbored the body of Fleamont Potter?" Sirius asked sardonically.

He remembered her reaction the last time they had talked about Fleamont Potter. But most of all, he remembered the expression of anguish that had crossed her face that night when the Dark Lord had asked her to join them while dangling Fleamont Potter as bait. The triumph he had expected to feel at discovering what appeared to be the first chink in her armor was strangely absent. Potter was now dead and Sirius had few regrets, especially because Fleamont had been just a means to an end.

The death of the Potter Patriarch had only made the ferociousness in Hermione more visible and Sirius knew without a doubt that she loved the Potters. But if she wore her weakness for them like a crown, Sirius was no longer sure they were a weakness like he had been suspecting.

Maybe for her, love wasn't a chink in her armor. Maybe for her, love was the armor.

Never in his life had he been confronted with such a confounding thought. He could not understand it. And maybe, he never would.

Sirius kept looking at Hermione, not understanding his enthrallment either.

Her eyes glittered with fire for a few seconds before she answered.

"What's flesh and bones without a soul?"

Sirius sighed, pushing black hair off his forehead.

"Do you know anything about Bellatrix's whereabouts?"

Hermione's expression flickered for a second and Sirius almost leapt to his feet, wand in hand. But she was giving him a confused look.

"Bellatrix is missing?" Hermione asked solemnly.

But that flicker had been enough for Sirius.

His thoughts started racing.

The reason he was asking Hermione was because he knew there had been some tensions with his cousins previously. Now, Andromeda was travelling and Bellatrix had disappeared? His wife, his brother and his cousin were particularly close. There was something suspicious there.

Sirius did not know what Bellatrix had been doing as she had been too preoccupied to answer his questions the last time they had met. But he did know that his cousin was supposed to check in about her mission today. The Dark Lord had been furious that Bellatrix had not showed up for the meeting. It wasn't unusual for Bellatrix to disappear without a word, months at times, as most of her missions entailed a level of secrecy many were not privy to. But it was not like her to miss meetings, and definitely not like her to not send word if there were some delays.

The only way she had been prevented from doing so was if something had happened to her.

He tried to think rationally but his rage boiled over. His instincts told him one thing and his brain another.

There was something wrong here.

He stood up and pointed his wand at Hermione.

Hermione was looking at him passively, her own wand drawn.

"Did you do something to her? Did you kill her?!" Sirius growled menacingly.

But Hermione stayed calm, too bloody calm.

"No, I did not." she drawled. When Sirius remained where he was, his wand hand rigid, Hermione huffed. "Oh, don't be so tiresome, Sirius. I don't have any grudges against your cousin. Apart from knowing she's one of your Master's little pets, I have no reason to hurt her. Why would I?"

"You have made your dislike apparent on many occasions. Why wouldn't you?"

"Now, that is a good question. But regrettably, your potion has worn off and I don't have to endure your company a second longer." Hermione exclaimed haughtily.

Hermione got up from her seat and stepped up to him. Her eyes were blazing with suppressed anger.

His own aura darkened in response.

But Hermione merely smiled, patting him on his cheek.

"Now that you have had your little fun, we can get serious. Pay attention to this because I had nothing to do with your dear cousin's disappearance. But the day, which will indubitably come, when I do kill those imbeciles, I will make sure you witness it."

With that, Hermione flicked her hand and the wards went down. As the door opened, Regulus was outside, a murderous rage in his eyes.

He stepped inside the room and a look filled with something passed between his wife and his brother.

Not for the first time, Sirius felt like an interloper.

But he stayed rooted to his spot.

Hermione rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"Are we done?" she asked with a bite in her tone.

For the first time, Sirius thought Hermione might be angry for the way he had manipulated the situation. He had a solid reason to but now, he knew he would not be able to repeat this situation again. Initially, his goal had been to not alienate Hermione further but after their last conversation a couple of weeks ago, he knew Hermione could not get far enough away from him. They were on two opposite sides and he had to use every advantage available to him to make sure his own side triumphed.

So why did he feel a little guilty?

Hermione stood facing him, chin up.

Sirius watched Regulus take his place next to Hermione, giving him an icy glare. Regulus drew an arm around Hermione' shoulders and pulled her to his side.

Hermione glanced up at Regulus and gave him a warm smile.

And suddenly, Sirius felt like he had been burned.

A deep, fuming rage built up inside him and he felt like he was choking on the need to do something, to pummel someone, to rip or shred, kill-kill-kill–

His anger snapped back when the entire tea tray exploded, showering him with shards and drops of the remaining tea.

Hermione and Regulus were both giving him wary looks, a blue shield encompassing both of them as they stood with their wands drawn out.

This was the second time he had lost his temper and magic in front of the other two and he imagined if it was becoming a pattern. He wondered at it, he always had his bearings.

"Now, I will request you to get the fuck out of this room." Hermione snarled. "Kindly close the door on your way out."

Sirius nodded his head sharply and marched to his room, thinking he had just made the worst possible mistake. He had been so sure Hermione was behind the destruction of the Manor or that she knew about Bellatrix's whereabouts.

He had given her the truth serum and he had just gotten more question than answers.

How was it possible for his gut to be so wrong?

Everything in his life had gone pear-shaped the day Hermione Dagworth-Granger had entered his life. She was a merciless storm that made him doubt his roots every time she swept by him. So, why would she not be responsible for everything that went wrong?

But this interrogation told him otherwise.

If it wasn't Hermione, who was responsible for such an attack on the Blacks?

Sirius hoped Bellatrix's husband would crawl out of the woodwork to tell them where his wife was. He had not seen either of the Lestrange brothers in some time and Sirius began to suspect something sinister was going on.

Just what had the Lestranges been up to?

Sirius entered his room and slammed the door shut.

An elf had laid out his robes and he stared at them in confusion for a second.

Then he remembered that it was the New Year's ball at the Malfoy Manor tonight. He would talk to Lucius about the Lestranges. Lucius always knew what was happening in their circle.

Unbidden, previous conversations with Hermione played on a loop inside his mind as he got ready for the Ball. Such an occurrence was not abnormal. He could not help but think of her words, the manner in which she asserted herself and most of all, her bold opinions.

'Did you truly expect me to adhere to the vile garbage about blood purity your family spits about?'

'Your loyalty is to your Master and yet you're trying to save me. Who do you serve?'

'You claim your allegiance towards a cause you can barely fight for. I saw you. You weren't enjoying it. You did not relish what happened last night. So, tell me. Why are you still doing this?'

Why indeed?

His Dark Mark stung and he glanced down at the skull, his previous thoughts forgotten. He used his other hand to brush against the skin as the pain ebbed away. He stared at the blemished skin and clenched his teeth.

He finished getting ready.

Regulus' door was closed as he swept past it and made his way towards the stairs. His parents were still getting ready as the lower landing was deserted.

He went to the cabinet in the kitchen and poured himself some Firewhiskey and swallowed it in one go. The burn from the alcohol was smooth.

He put the Firewhiskey back and leaned against the counter, frowning deeply.

His Dark Mark pulsed against his forearm. These days it never stopped pulsating, as if giving him a reminder of who his loyalties belonged to. There had never been a question about them before. And there still wasn't a question.

But, but, but.

He had never needed a reminder before. The Mark had never made its presence known unless the Dark Lord was calling him. So why was there a strange tingle every time he came close to Hermione? Every time he mulled over their conversations?

The Dark Mark kept throbbing, as if questioning him, his blood, his mind and his allegiance.

The questions were still the same, as they had always been.

Problem was that he did not know the right answers anymore.

The festivities were in full swing as Hermione chatted with Regulus.

Hermione had barely expected it to be so cheerful after what she had experienced in the drawing room of this very Manor. But Narcissa's theme of hope seemed to register quite soundly with the Death Eaters.

Regulus had snorted at the thought.

Hermione could hardly think of the events that had occurred earlier this evening without anger. She had truly not suspected Sirius to pull a move like this. While she had been expecting subtlety, his outright Gryffindor move had startled her. But then, Sirius was rash. Even in this timeline.

When Regulus's message from his amulet had come through, Hermione had been ready to use her amulet to go somewhere else. But the sly backwards glance from Kreacher had stopped her. As a rule, the house-elves owed their loyalties to both Master and Mistress of a certain house. If one gave a simple command and the other gave the opposite one, the house-elf would do nothing but punish himself. But in certain cases, some particular house-elves would choose to follow the command of the one they felt more respect for.

Which, unsurprisingly, in Kreacher's case had been her.

Hermione could hardly not laugh over the idea that this timeline's Kreacher was not that fond of Sirius either. Sure, Sirius was the perfect Pureblood son. But for some inexplicable reason, Kreacher liked Regulus better. Hermione could hardly blame him, even she liked Regulus better.

Perhaps the reason was how Regulus treated the house-elves and how Hermione treated them the same way.

Respect could not be bought.

However, the glance had told her she needed to trust the elf. She did not want to reveal her amulet to Sirius. It had many powers and while it could not be taken forcefully from her, she would like to keep its knowledge a secret nonetheless.

Hence, Hermione had sauntered over to the table and sat down. Inwardly, she had been fuming. But, outwardly she had kept her face blank. Then, she had sniffed her cup after Sirius had served them.

Veritaserum, she had concluded, but a lesser dosage than was recommended.

That meant Kreacher had listened to Sirius but his own loyalties had kept him from pouring the required amount into the cup.

Not for the first time, Hermione had been glad for Kreacher.

The amount ingested would compel her to answer truthfully, but Hermione did not become the head of DMLE without learning how to control the damage if she were to be tortured.

Torture had not been a novelty for her. She had learnt to keep her mouth shut and lie through her teeth.

This time, it had been no different. She had ignored the burn of the serum trying to make her tell the truth and had arranged her thoughts via Occlumency to control her expressions. It had worked. Or at least she hoped it had.

She had hardly told Sirius anything of value, even if some truths had been thrown in.

But, Hermione had a feeling she had agitated Sirius even more. She called that a triumph.

The Ballroom was getting a little stifling.

Hermione introduced Regulus to one of the witches who was on the panel for the selection of the Wymbyg Apprenticeship and quietly excused herself.

She felt eyes on her back as she made her way out of the Ballroom.

She did not look back.

Sirius had gone out of the Ballroom previously and Hermione felt no need to find him but she was fine with others assuming she was stepping outside to locate him.

Hermione wanted to find out about Tom Riddle's diary and if it still occupied space here. She would hardly think Lucius would put something like that in the library, not with how many people could easily access it. No, it had to be a place only he had access to. Maybe his room or his study? But Hermione could not just go around and investigate, even though she was quite capable of doing just that. Being caught snooping around the Manor would raise too many alarms and she did not wish to get that kind of attention.

She was in one of the rooms that connected to the Ballroom and then, she spotted the balcony door that was halfway open. Hermione knew how easy it was to forget that this menacing Manor was actually quite beautiful. She had never been in this part of the Manor before, and it was breathtaking.

She stepped through the door, longing for some fresh air and was almost startled to find Narcissa there, leaning against the stone railing.

The harsh breaths coming from Narcissa kept her from darting inside again.

Hermione cleared her throat softly and patted Narcissa's back lightly as the other witch almost jumped in alarm.

"Are you well?" she asked as she stood next to the blonde.

Narcissa smiled faintly and nodded her head.

"Yes, I am quite alright, thank you."

"You don't look so well, Narcissa." Hermione added, frowning as she saw she sheen of sweat on Narcissa's forehead. The heating did not extend to the balcony and Hermione felt the cold even through the layers of heating charms she had done on herself.

Hermione wondered how Narcissa would feel if she knew her sister was dead. Hermione hoped she would not find out any time soon.

"I suppose I could be better." Narcissa responded before shuddering.

Hermione eyed the white gown Narcissa was wearing. It was beautiful and Narcissa looked quite magnificent in it. But now, she looked very pale and that was only what Hermione could see through the dimmed light of the balcony.

"The frail disposition, my mother has it too. Even though she birthed three daughters." Narcissa rasped. "When she had me, it had been the worst one yet. We were both weak for years. But I thought I was stronger now."

Hermione's heart thudded in her chest. She did not mean that, did she? The sight of Narcissa was not something she could bear, it reminded her of herself a long time ago when she had been in the same position. Not just her, but a dozens of witches. It had been one of the worst times in their history.

"Narcissa, are you–?" she asked before being cut off by Narcissa.

"Yes." she answered before wheezing. Narcissa stumbled a little as she straightened herself. Hermione quickly held the petite woman in her arms firmly. Her jaw clenched tightly as she fought to dissuade the flashbacks.

"Well, surely you must get some help. I believe there are some brilliant Medi-witches and Medi-wizards too in the crowd. Do you want me to call Lucius? Or get one of the house-elves–?"

"No!" Narcissa exclaimed. "This comes and goes. My Medi-team is here and I know they will say the same thing, that I should rest. I will not worry Lucius when there is no cause to."

"Yes there is!" Hermione snapped back. "You are displaying some of the worst symptoms. You should – how far along are you?"

"This is the twelfth week, I think." Narcissa answered, her pupils blown wide.

Hermione started muttering spells, first diagnosis then cooling charms and added some spells to balance the symptoms–

Narcissa's body jerked violently and then she cried out loud.

"No, no, no, no." she whispered as tears gathered in her eyes and fell. Then, she went limp in Hermione's arms. She had no trouble holding Narcissa's slight weight.

Hermione looked down at the spot on the white gown where blood was spreading and she almost choked on her sob.

Determined to keep her emotions in check, Hermione raised her Occlumency shields and called out–

"Dobby!"

It was just a shot in the dark. Hermione had no idea if Dobby was in service of the Malfoys yet.

But there was a loud crack and Hermione could not help but get tearful at the sight that met her eyes.

"You is calling?"

Dobby's green eyes widened at the sight of his Mistress. Before he could even think of doing anything, Hermione reached out an arm towards him.

"Take us to Mrs Malfoy's rooms!"

Dobby trembled at the sight but he obeyed the order.

As soon as they had made it into the chambers, Hermione started giving instructions and the elf did as she bid him.

She gently laid Narcissa on her bed, barely paying attention to the elf's tearful eyes and shaking body.

After pouring some of her own potions down Narcissa's throat, Hermione cleaned her up and changed her clothes.

She turned to Dobby.

"Go get Sirius Black. Hurry!"

Hermione hoped Sirius had not gone back to the Ballroom. She did not wish to create a scene if Dobby appeared in the middle and started hauling Sirius towards the rooms. Knowing how Lucius felt about house-elves in general, Hermione did not wish for Dobby to fetch him.

Hermione waved her wand over Narcissa, chanting healing spells.

Not two minutes later, there was another crack.

"Hermione?" Sirius asked haltingly.

Hermione finished her incantations and turned towards Sirius. He looked pale and stared at the discarded gown on the floor, covered partly in blood.

She rushed towards him and grabbed his elbow when he did not snap out of his stupor.

"Go get Lucius and the Medi-team that Narcissa has. Lucius must know who they are. Just don't alarm anyone else, as neither the Malfoys nor the Blacks would appreciate it. Dobby, escort him, it'll be quicker."

Sirius turned his wide grey eyes towards her, nodding slowly.

Hermione hurried towards the bed and did another diagnostic spell. As much experience as she had with this, she was no expert. Narcissa was fine for now, but she still needed help.

Hermione was trying to keep Narcissa's blood pressure normal when the doors burst open and Lucius dashed inside. Hermione could faithfully testify that she had never seen Lucius so out of proportions before, not even in the Final Battle of Hogwarts.

His eyes swept over the white gown too before they hardened and he approached his wife more slowly.

"How is she?" Lucius asked her in a clipped tone.

But then, the Medi-team was inside and they started asking her about the potions and spells she had done on Mrs Malfoy.

Hermione was hardly unfazed as she responded promptly.

As the team started working on Narcissa, Hermione chose to stay by her side. The team had been a member short and Hermione had been more than happy to help. As the head of MESOP, Hermione had access to a lot potions used by St. Mungos and as a general rule, she always travelled with the majority of the potions.

No one questioned her decision to stay even as she all but bullied Lucius and Sirius to go and join the festivities again.

You don't want to arouse suspicion that your wife is unwell, she had told Lucius. This is your Manor and your party.

I do not need to be told what my duty is, Lucius had snarled back at her.

They had gone back and forth a couple of times before one of the medi-witches had told them that Narcissa was stable.

Finally, Lucius and Sirius had gone back then but with great reluctance.

A couple of hours later, the New Year had come and gone but Hermione had stayed.

She had been sitting by the bedside, as the team had left.

She kept staring at the door to the adjoining room, which she knew was Lucius's.

She was conflicted over what she should do. Narcissa was fine now, and Hermione was sure the ball would end in another hour or so. She doubted she would get another opportunity like this to get as close to Tom Riddle's diary.

Hermione had indeed stayed because she had wanted to help Narcissa. She could be a fucking bleeding heart sometimes.

But she had stayed this long because she could not help but be reminded of the diary and what it had done to Ginny Weasley.

Her own morals screamed at her but she had declared them useless in this war.

She sighed as she rubbed her temples.

Did it matter if it was the right thing to do?

Because stealing the horcrux, which would be used as a way to open the Chamber of Secrets and release a basilisk, from a Death Eater was morally right.

But stealing the horcrux, while the said Death Eater had trusted her enough to stay in this room to look after his wife was morally wrong.

She tried to think of the way they had won the previous war.

At a high cost, but they had always done the right thing.

Maybe it was not the right thing to do, but maybe it was the only thing to do.

Hermione got up. She Disillusioned and Silenced herself and warded the room and took down the wards on Lucius's room. They were subtle, but there.

After a quick search, Hermione got out of the room to locate the study and thanked Morgana when she found the study on the same level.

After dismantling all the wards and charms, Hermione located the object she was after. She replaced it with a replica and stowed Tom Riddle's dairy in her bag. The horcrux seemed to pulse slightly as her skin made contact with the cover and Hermione shuddered as she repelled the onslaught of memories of a locket. She put it in a glass box, shrunk it and put it away.

She crept back to Narcissa's room and took down the additional wards.

She sat down on her chair again.

After fifteen minutes, Narcissa started stirring.

Her eyes fluttered open and she tried to focus her vision. Her eyes found hers and she looked at Hermione in disbelief.

"You stayed?" Narcissa whispered, her voice rough.

Hermione fought her guilt.

"Yes, I did." she answered.

Narcissa started crying when she realized why she was in the bed.

Hermione hushed her softly.

"Don't despair." she murmured.

Maybe it was a way for her to assuage her guilt. Or maybe she had just wanted to comfort Narcissa for the very same thing she had gone through once. But no force on this world would have stopped her next words–

"It was too soon, you know? He will be born in June of next year. And you will love him more than anyone else in the world."

Narcissa stopped crying at once, her blue eyes red and wide with wonder. There was complete silence for a few minutes.

"You swear on your magic?" Narcissa asked earnestly.

"I do." Hermione responded sincerely.

A ball of energy and light went towards the hand Hermione was holding and Narcissa gasped.

"You are not lying." Narcissa muttered.

"Not about this." Hermione confirmed.

She half expected Narcissa to question her but she only sighed softly and drifted to sleep, her hand still in Hermione's.

Hermione's magic was already on the surface and it stirred again as a tingle ran up and down her arm. Hermione stared in shock as her own Magic reached for Narcissa's and it hummed as they connected.

She knew what the warm tingle in her Core meant.

Kin.

Narcissa Mafloy née Black was her kin.

Which meant, Draco bloody Malfoy would also be her kin when he was born.

Well, this was certainly unexpected.

She wondered if Lucius would also be her kin now and she shuddered at the thought.

Not for the first time, and probably not for the last time either, Hermione wondered if this timeline was worth all the trouble it promised.