Hermione gazed at the plethora of survivors in the wake of the Battle of Hogwarts, and felt Ron stiffen beside her when Madam Pomfrey revealed that Lavender Brown would be all right, and that she was not effected with lycanthropy, due to a new invention in the form of a potion by Severus Snape. Ron turned and looked at Hermione, his gaze still haunted by losing Fred just hours ago. Hermione smiled tentatively at him and squeezed his hand; she would always be there for him, but, now knowing that their kiss was nothing more than being caught up in the heat of the moment, she gently pushed him towards Lavender's bed, and he kept a silent vigil beside her.

Harry, meanwhile, had dashed around her and sank down into the chair beside Professor Snape's bed, taking his hand in his, and staring down at the man. The action seemed to familiar and second nature to him that Hermione now truly realized the reason why he took so long in fetching the Sword of Gryffindor from the depths of the frozen lake in the Forest of Dean. Ron had been fast asleep in their tent while Hermione had taken over for the morning watch, and saw that Harry was missing from his post. Later, he had explained that a lovely raven Patronus had called him to the lake, and he had the Sword of Gryffindor clutched in his hand. He seemed a bit damp, but it was from sweat, not from the bowels of the lake.

Hermione stood at the edge of the hospital wing, watching as Ron sat with Lavender, and Harry sat with Professor Snape. Although she was pleased that the people they cared for most had come out of the war relatively all right, she found herself wishful that she could have some company of her own. However, as she left the infirmary and made her way down the corridors of the old castle, she found that, now that her destiny had been foretold, she had no idea where she was supposed to go from there. The logical step, of course, would be to go to Australia, to check and see if her parents' memories could be restored unto them.

Shaking her head, she stepped out of the Entrance Hall and onto the grounds. The sun wasn't too high in the sky yet, and so she made her way through the semi-darkness. She would, of course, have to go to the Burrow first, and collect Crookshanks. Her heart hammered within her when she discovered just how much she missed her familiar, and hated that she had to leave him behind once the Death Eaters had taken over Bill and Fleur's wedding reception. The lynx Patronus, belonging to Kingsley Shacklebolt—who had been proclaimed Minister of Magic in the Morning Edition of The Daily Prophet—had amazed her, as well as his voice emanating from the large feline's mouth.

Her own Patronus was no longer an otter, but that of a large wolf dog, something that wasn't entirely lost upon her. Looking up, she discovered that she now stood at the edge of the Black Lake, and remembered being put into its depths for something Viktor Krum would miss. She had been surprised to see him at the gathering in the Room of Requirement, and spotted him speaking in hushed tones with Ginny Weasley. Ginny had informed her that they had reunited at Bill and Fleur's wedding the summer before, and had been exchanging letters since then. Much to Ginny's surprise, Hermione assured her that she did not mind, and was happy for the two of them, much to Ginny's relief.

"Why are you standing out here all by yourself?"

Hermione's skin prickled at the sound of that familiar voice, and turned, looking up at the second man in the history of the Wizarding World to have survived the Killing Curse. "It was becoming too much in the infirmary," she replied.

Sirius Black nodded, stepping forward so as he was standing beside her. "Do you mind if I stand with you?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head. "Not at all," she replied. She stared out onto the surface of the lake; it was calm now, and the sun was just beginning to glitter upon its surface. "How are Remus and Tonks? I saw them in the infirmary..."

"Remus is just pleased that Tonks listened and stayed behind with Teddy," Sirius said, a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. "Remus sustained a lengthy bout of the Cruciatus, but Madam Pomfrey says he'll be all right. He just needs plenty of rest and Pain Potion. I'm sure that Snape made enough before the battle."

Hermione inclined her head at that; ever since Bellatrix Lestrange had attempted to kill Sirius at the Department of Mysteries at the end of their fifth-year, Professor Snape and Sirius had seen more eye to eye. This, of course, was not without its challenges, especially when, during their summer at Grimmauld Place before going to the Burrow for the wedding, Sirius had caught Harry and Professor Snape locked in a passionate embrace. It had helped that it was Harry's seventeenth birthday, naturally, and, once Sirius had been convinced of their feelings for one another—and that they had held off until Harry's majority—he was determined to support his godson's romantic choices.

"I'm sure he did," Hermione replied, finally contributing to the conversation again. "You know how the professor is. Always planning ahead..."

"Luckily that Albus left pensive memories for Minerva, Filius, Pomona, and Horace before Snape had to do what he had to last June," Sirius mused, and Hermione nodded. "Imagine Snape taking over as Headmaster of Hogwarts without the support of the Heads of Houses. Made everything much easier, I feel."

"It was Harry's idea, of course," Hermione said with a smirk. "Wouldn't want anything bad happening to people he cares about, after all."

"Did you and Ron know about it, when I caught them together?" Sirius asked, deliberately not making eye contact with her.

Hermione nodded. "Yes," she confirmed. "Harry told us right after Dumbledore's funeral, when he told us about the special mission the headmaster had for him. Once we got over the initial shock of his feelings for Professor Snape, we agreed to help him find the Horcruxes. I am just pleased that Professor Snape did enough research to discover that the Draught of Living Death was able to successfully remove the Horcrux from Harry."

"As am I," Sirius responded with a nod. "I will forever be in Snape's debt for it." He hesitated for a moment before he spoke again. "Snape was witness to my blood adoption of Harry, right after I caught them together."

Hermione smiled. "So, Harry is now your son in truth," she said softly, itching to reach out and take his hand. "I'll bet he's pleased, and would come back to Grimmauld with you, had he not begun a relationship with Professor Snape. Although now that the war is over, and the Aurors are collecting the rogue Death Eaters, I'm sure he will be a popular visitor."

"They expressed a mutual dream to travel in the interim," Sirius said softly. "Harry's decided not to be an Auror after all, and he merely wants to see the world with Snape."

"I cannot say I blame him," Hermione replied. "I myself have to go to Australia after I collect Crookshanks from the Burrow..."

Sirius looked a tad uncomfortable then. "I took Crookshanks to Grimmauld once you, Harry, and Ron went on the run," he said softly. "No one would suspect him there, and I was glad for the company he brought. I hope you don't mind."

Hermione shook her head. "No, of course I don't mind. He likes you very much, and I know he knows how to keep Kreacher in line, if need be."

Sirius smirked at that. "He has already begun to do so," he responded. "If you would like, I can continue to care for him while you're in Australia."

Hermione returned his smile. "I would appreciate that, Sirius. Thank you." Stepping forward, she pressed a kiss onto his cheek in gratitude, before moving away. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to get cleaned up. I have to get to the Ministry to organize an International Portkey."

"Not traveling the Muggle way, then?" Sirius asked.

Hermione stopped walking. "Perhaps I will," she said, not looking over her shoulder to see the Lord of the House of Black cupping his cheek where she had kissed it.

Hermione headed to the Burrow, where many of her belongings had been stored during the Horcrux hunt. She had found Ginny, who escorted her there, and showed her where she had put Hermione's clothes in her bedroom, at the back of her closet. Ginny also provided some other clothes that would fit Hermione, before she went into the parlor and to the Floo to greet Viktor, who had followed them. Hermione, meanwhile, took a shower and packed her bag, before she left the grounds of the Burrow with a kind smile for Viktor, and a hug for Ginny.

Once she had reached the edge of the Weasley property, Hermione hailed the Knight Bus, and was pleased when it arrived so promptly. She requested to be taken to Diagon Alley, and was immediately transported there. She got off at the correct stop and meandered through the Leaky Cauldron, which had a torpid air about it in the aftermath of the battle. Walking into the alleyway and towards the stone wall, she tapped her wand in the intricate pattern before it crumbled away before her, and she ventured down the main street. Gringotts Bank seemed to be in relatively good condition, and she thanked Merlin for Re-Construction Spells, knowing that a fair few would likely be utilized in the rebuilding of Hogwarts.

Hermione walked down the cobblestone road and up the steps of the wizarding bank, and was relieved when none of the goblins stared at her in an accusatory manner. She requested a meeting with the Head Goblin, and was shown to a room resembling an elegant parlor rather than a stodgy office. The goblin introduced himself as Quadbert, and said he was quite pleased to be working with Miss Hermione Granger, one of the Golden Trio.

Hermione blushed at the title and straightened up in the provided, finely upholstered chair. "I was wondering if you could give me some of my vault in Pounds, and book me a ticket at Heathrow to Melbourne, please," she said softly.

Quadbert inclined his head and set to work, getting an adequate amount of pounds for Hermione—enough for a cab fare to Heathrow, as well as enough to keep her sustained until she found the Wizarding District of Melbourne, called Baiame Backstreet, where she could exchange her pounds for the Australian wizarding currency, Ramora Riches. Hermione thanked Quadbert once the work was done, and set off back to Charing Cross Road, where she hailed a cab and watched as the meter climbed higher, but she didn't mind; the goblins knew what they were doing, after all.

Upon arrival at the airport, Hermione paid the cabby her fare, plus a generous tip, and made her way into the airport. She had her ticket and boarding pass, and, given that her bag was so small, and Muggles couldn't detect the Extension Charm, she could easily not check it. She checked which gate she would be at and quickly headed towards it; her flight was in half an hour, and, since she was in first class, it would likely begin boarding any minute. She slipped easily through the crowd, remembering the various dental conventions that her parents had taken her to over the years, and that had worked out in her favor, as she remembered the etiquette.

Once she got into the proper gate, she handed over her ticket and boarding pass, as well as her Gringotts-issued ID card and passport. All were cleared with the stewards, and Hermione was free to get onto the plane. She knew that the main purpose for taking such a long flight was due to the fact that she needed rest, and, given the fact that she would be spending a near full day in the air, it was a wonderful time to slumber, she thought. All she had to do was check over the meal menu and select her breakfast (Full English with Tetley), dinner (club sandwich with crisps, squash, and a small vegetable platter with cheese and hummus), and supper (a Sunday roast with all the trimmings, red wine, and trifle). She also selected her breakfast and dinner for the following day, in which she requested a fry up and a cheeseburger with everything respectively. Once that was done, she slipped into sleep, her wand charmed to notify her when mealtimes were forthcoming.

She faded in and out of sleep for the duration of the flight, only awakening when it was time for her to eat one of her meals. Her plans were, upon landing, to locate the Wizarding District and find a hotel for the night, before seeking out her mother and father the following day. The plane began its decent into Melbourne on schedule, and Hermione looked through the wizarding booklet that Quadbert had given her, which was disguised to appear as a Muggle one to all the other passengers. She identified the Opaleye Inn rather quickly, located off the main drag of Baiame Backstreet, which had five-star reviews, a variety of rooms, an on-site restaurant, and a boutique for those shopping for gifts and whatnot.

Smiling to herself, she waited for the plane to land properly before tucking the booklet back into her beaded bag, and made her way off the plane with the other passengers when the all-clear was given to do so. She was able to find the Apparition Point within the airport, which was disguised to Muggles, and went that way, Apparating to the coordinates mentioned in the booklet. She soon found herself in a beautiful foyer of a hotel, and, looking around, was very pleased when a young witch stepped up to her.

"Good evening," the witch said in a friendly manner, and put out her hand for Hermione to shake. "Welcome to the Opaleye Inn, my name is Eliana Wynter, daughter of Alexander and Zahra Wynter, owners of the inn. How may I help you this evening, miss?"

Hermione, too, put out her hand, and shook Eliana's, and found she was pleased at Eliana's manner and her willingness to share her background. "Hermione Granger, daughter of Owain and Arabella Granger; they're Muggle dentists. I'd like a room, for one, please," she said. "May I ask what you have available this evening?" she asked.

Eliana nodded at her, beckoning her over to the reception desk and showing her a book, which showed moving pictures of all the available rooms and suites. "The Witch's Heritage Suite is available," she said, and meandered the book towards Hermione, who gazed down at it. "It's one of our most popular rooms on offer."

Hermione nodded at the pictures of the suite—it was beautiful, complete with Victorian gothic furniture, but also boasted a flat screen TV in both the living room and bedroom, as well as a large soaking tub in the attached bathroom. "How much per night?" she asked.

"A hundred a night," Eliana replied, which Hermione knew was around fifty-five pounds in British pound. "I can tell you're from England. We have an implement which transfers the money into the proper currency, so you don't need to go far."

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief at that. "I'll take it," she responded. "Am I allowed to assign a certain amount of days now, and extend if necessary?"

"Or decrease," Eliana replied in understanding. "The room isn't due to be booked for another two weeks."

"I don't anticipate staying that long, I don't think," Hermione told her. "Three days for now, if you please," she said, and summoned her credit card.

Eliana nodded in understanding and took the credit card, before she saw Hermione's passport and ID, and handed her the key card. "The elevator is just through there," she explained, pointing around the corner from the reception desk and past the larger portion of the lobby. "Our restaurant on site is called the Opal Lounge, and is on the third floor. Would you care to make an outstanding reservation there, or would you prefer to eat elsewhere?"

Hermione looked at the clock, and noticed that it was close to five. "How about six?" she asked, hoping that it was doable.

Eliana smiled at her and took down the information. "My brother, Riley, is the bartender, my sister, Ava, is the chef, and my other brother, Ethan, is the host. You'll be well taken care of, Miss Granger," she assured her.

"Thank you, Eliana," Hermione responded, offering the young witch a smile before she ventured through the lobby, and found her way to the elevator. Looking at her key card, she noticed that her room was on the seventh floor, the top floor of the building, and stared at the platinum plaque that was positioned on the wall above the elevator buttons. Pressing the correct button, she took in what the plaque had to say.

RECEPTION, LOBBY, OPAL COFFEE BAR, & BOUTIQUE – GROUND FLOOR

STANDARD ROOMS – SECOND FLOOR

OPAL LOUNGE & OPAL CAFÉ – THIRD FLOOR

CONFERENCE ROOMS – FOURTH FLOOR

STANDARD SUITES – FIFTH FLOOR

JUNIOR & SUPERIOR SUITES – SIXTH FLOOR

HERITAGE & PENTHOUSE SUITS – SEVENTH FLOOR

The elevator dinged and Hermione stepped inside it, the lush carpeting causing her feet to sink into the floor momentarily. She pressed button number seven and the doors closed, pulling her upwards and to the top of the hotel. Once she had arrived, the standard elevator music of the Australian variety tinkling in her ears, she made her way to the correct wing, and found her room without incident. Stepping inside and shutting the door behind her, she stepped from the living room and into her bedroom, setting down her beaded bag upon her bed.

Beside the bed was a booklet for room service, as well as a booklet on the boutique. The second booklet touted that it was a perfect place to get something fashionable, and she noticed for the first time that the Opal Lounge was a formal place to eat. Shaking her head and knowing entirely well that nothing she brought was appropriate, she opened the booklet up and scanned the dress section, ultimately settling on a knee-length, green dress with scoop neckline, and was made from taffeta.

Satisfied, Hermione put in a call to the boutique, and, once they realized that they had her credit card on file (and when her dinner reservation was) they agreed to send it right up. Hermione also selected a pair of black, patent leather pumps to complete the ensemble, an emerald necklace and matching ring, and some makeup. Once her things had arrived, Hermione set the garment bag on the outside of her wardrobe and took a shower, washing the grime from the long plane ride off her person. Coming out of the shower and utilizing Drying Charms had, at one time, been second nature to her; however, due to months on the run, they were lucky if they got the opportunity to bathe in a lake if they ever found one. Shampoo and conditioner were luxuries that they hadn't been able to afford for quite some time.

The shampoo, conditioner, and body wash were a combination of vanilla and rose, and Hermione fell in love with the scent, wanting to figure out if the Wizarding World back in Britain had such combinations. Smiling to herself as she stepped out of the shower, she used the hair dryer on offer and utilized a bit of the Sleekeazy's Hair Potion she still had rooting around in the depths of her beaded bag. Once her hair and makeup were properly in place, she stepped into her Self-Zipping dress, a fad in the Wizarding World, and pulled on her pumps. She left her suite a few moments later, clutching at the matching green purse that had been included in her purchase, and made her way down to the third floor, where the Opal Lounge was located.

There seemed to be an Italian and Mediterranean theme to the place, and Hermione gave her name to Ethan Wynter, the host, who sat her quickly in a snug, rounded booth by the window, and told her this would be her table throughout her stay. Hermione thanked him and perused the menu, settling on a glass of Sauvignon Blanc from New Zealand, chicken marsala served over pasta and paired with a Caesar salad, and Schiacciata Fiorentina for her pudding. As she waited for her food to arrive, she sipped on her Sauvignon Blanc and stared out the window of the Wizarding District of Melbourne, hoping for a new beginning with her family.

~*~

It was raining when Hermione utilized her International Portkey to return to the Ministry of Magic, and dropped it off at the Portkey Office afterwards. Her dove gray suit, which she hated, clung to her body the moment she stepped out into the weather, leaving the red telephone box behind for the next person to enter the ministry undetected. She meandered this way and that down the sodden streets of London, hardly believing that she had barely been in Australia for twenty-four hours, if that. What had begun as a trip of a lifetime to reunite with her parents was nothing sort of a finale from a godforsaken Greek tragedy.

From the moment she had sought out her parents' home in Melbourne, she had been determined to reverse the Memory Charm she had placed upon them for their own protection. However, much to her dismay, it appeared to be permanent, and nothing she could do or say convinced her parents that she was their daughter. A sick feeling had encroached upon her as she returned to the Opaleye Inn and gathered her belongings, not wanting to stay in the country for a moment longer, the anger on her parents' faces at her intrusion into their lives becoming palpable upon her mind as she went to the Melbourne Ministry to request an emergency International Portkey home again.

Upon arrival at the British Ministry of Magic, Hermione heard The Daily Prophet announcing that, not only was Kingsley to remain Minister of Magic for the foreseeable future, with his husband Alastor Moody as his deputy, but Harry Potter and Severus Snape had announced their forthcoming nuptials. Professor Snape would be retaining his post as Headmaster of Hogwarts and had already received a full pardon for his actions during the war, while Harry himself would not be returning as a student, and was due to take his NEWTs in a few weeks. Hermione knew that the pair would likely live together in the Headmaster's Quarters once term began, and would remain there for one more year before beginning their travels.

As Hermione walked up and down the streets of London, she hardly knew where she was or where she was going, until a familiar black iron gate appeared before her. She pushed it open, the cobblestones beneath her feet making her journey a slightly slippery one, and didn't even react as they squeaked shut behind her. Using her toe, she tapped the pattern needed to expose 12 Grimmauld Place, and, once it came into being between 11 and 13, Hermione stepped forward and turned the doorknob, which opened easily at her touch.

The door of the ancestral Black family home shut behind her, and all she heard was an old grandfather clock ticking, as well as the drip-drip of her sodden clothes on the wooden floor at her feet. Lowering her eyes ever so slightly, she caught sight of Kreacher, who was staring at her from the entrance of the kitchen across the hall. Kreacher had tamed considerably since Harry had suggested to Sirius that he give him the fake locket of Salazar Slytherin, and had looked upon Ron and Hermione by extension much more kindly as a result.

"Miss Granger," the house-elf growled, although not maliciously; it was due to his age that he always sounded this way.

"Kreacher," Hermione said softly, and lowered her eyes to her feet, and spotted the puddle of water she was making. "Sorry about the floor. I walked here from the ministry."

Kreacher tutted. "Miss Granger could catch her death," he said, a note of concern in his old and weathered voice, as he slowly stepped forward. "The floors of the House of Black are spelled with Imperturbable Charms, Miss Granger, ever since the era of Mistress Ella Black, who loved taking walks in the rain." Looking her up and down, he snapped his fingers, and the worst of the water vanished from the floor, as well as Hermione's person. "Kreacher was making chicken soup and fresh bread for Master Sirius's dinner. Perhaps you will join him?"

"Sirius is here?" Hermione asked, her voice shaking as she wrapped her arms around herself, for although the rainwater was gone, the cool temperature remained.

Kreacher nodded his head. "Master Sirius and Crookshanks are in the library," the wizened house-elf replied. "Kreacher will bring up dinner when it is ready. Will Miss Granger be having some as well?"

"I would like that, Kreacher. Thank you," Hermione responded.

Kreacher bowed his head again, before turning around and making his way down the hallway and into the kitchen.

Hermione turned and regarded the staircase for a moment, before she urged her feet to move again and made her way up them. She didn't stop on the landing and instead made her way directly to the library, where she heard Sirius's soft voice speaking presumably to Crookshanks, and the thought made her smile. Tentatively, she turned the handle of the library's doorknob and stepped inside, causing Sirius to look up at her, and Crookshanks to jump from his place beside the man and run towards her, whereupon Hermione suddenly seemed to come to life and lift her half-Kneazle into her arms.

"Hermione?" Sirius asked, getting to his feet and crossing the room, that days copy of The Daily Prophet folded over one arm, the front page article featuring two side-by-side photographs, one of Kingsley and Moody waving to a press of people, and the second of Harry and Professor Snape embracing. "You're pale!" the man continued, wrapping an arm around Hermione's shoulders and pulling her further into the room, using his free hand to shut the door of the library behind her. "Come by the fire," he instructed, whispering a quick "Incendio" at the embers, which suddenly sprang to life, the orange glow reflecting off the stones. He gently urged Hermione onto the couch in front of the fire, and used his wand to tap at the table, the only piece of furniture separating the couch from the fireplace, as Hermione sank down onto the couch upon Sirius's direction.

"Thank you."

"Why are you so cold?" Sirius asked. "Did you have a bad reaction to the Portkey? You did take a Portkey, didn't you?"

Hermione sighed. "Yes, I did take a Portkey. No, I didn't get ill."

"Then, why are you like this? What happened, Hermione?"

Hermione slowly turned to face him. "I walked."

Sirius blinked. "Come again? You walked?"

"From the ministry," she clarified. "Once I arrived via my Portkey, I left the ministry via the telephone booth, and ended up here."

"Hermione, it would have taken you over an hour—it's nearly four miles!" Sirius cried out, his eyes flashing dangerously. "And in this weather, too... Don't you realize how thoughtless and dangerous that was? Especially with Death Eaters still on the lose..."

"Well, do forgive me if I wasn't thinking about my own safety for once in my life," Hermione replied in a sarcastic manner.

Sirius sighed, rubbing his temples. "Merlin, Hermione, if anything had happened to you..."

"Well, it didn't," she snapped. "Could you just drop it, please?"

Hermione shivered as the room slowly warmed up around her, Crookshanks having moved to her side so as he could wedge himself between her and Sirius. The young witch watched as the table suddenly filled with a silver tea service, the Tetley teabags sequestered to a small bowl. Also on the platter was a bowl of lemons, the sugar bowl, a jar of honey, two teacups in addition to the silver teapot, and a small pitcher of milk, and was complete with her favorite chocolate-covered digestives. Hermione tangled her fingers gently through Crookshanks' fur as Sirius watched her for several moments, obviously wondering what was appropriate to say, after their little disagreement just then.

"Tea?" he asked at last.

Hermione gave him a slow nod. "Please." She watched as he poured her a cup of tea, adding milk and two spoonful's of sugar, and she found herself flushing gradually at the notion that he knew how she took her tea. "Thank you," she said softly, feeling a bit better when he placed two digestives on either side of her saucer. She went quiet then, watching as he added honey and lemon to his own tea, and added no milk or sugar.

"I wasn't expecting you to be back so quickly, nor did I expect you to return here of all places right away," Sirius said softly, squeezing his piece of lemon into the hot beverage, and adding three spoonful's of honey. "I would have thought you would have gone to Hogwarts first, or to the Burrow..."

Hermione shook her head, inadvertently cutting him off, although the older man did not look displeased at her actions. "I took my NEWTs after I agreed to accompany Harry and Ron on our journey for Horcruxes; took my Apparition Test, too," she said softly, hunching her shoulders at the knowledge of it all. "All Os, of course, and I passed my Apparition Test, too; had to, given the fact that we were going to be on the run for so long."

"Ah, so any visit to Hogwarts would be a friendly one," Sirius said, smiling slightly at the information she'd given him. "You really are the brightest witch of your age, to take all your NEWTs, and pass them, without the formal seventh-year education."

Hermione gave a small nod. "Yes," she said quietly. "As for the Burrow, I collected all my belongings that Ginny had stored for me while Harry, Ron, and I were away. There is nothing for me there now."

Sirius looked surprised at this, watching avidly as Hermione sipped her tea. "What about you and Ron?" he wanted to know. "I saw you comforting him in the wake of Fred's death, and I thought for sure it was more than a friendly gesture..."

"It was, at the time," Hermione told him. "But, once we got word that Lavender hadn't succumbed to her words from Fenrir Greyback, Ron realized his feelings for her, as did I. I encouraged him to go to her, as we mutually realized we feel like siblings, which happens to be the same way I feel for Harry."

Sirius set aside his tea and stared at Hermione, looking as if she was an intricate puzzle he needed to solve. "What happened in Australia, Hermione?" he asked.

Hermione leaned back on the couch then, wandlessly sending her cup of tea and halfway bitten digestives back onto the table. She stared up at the ceiling, as gothic as the rest of Grimmauld Place was, although it had been cleaned up considerably into its former glory in the years that Sirius had been living there, and restored as Head of the House of Black. "The Memory Charms are irreversible," she said at last, knowing that she had to say something.

Sirius stiffened, while Crookshanks let out a soft yowl at her words. "And there's nothing to be done, then?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head, feeling the tears making wet trails down her cheeks, but made no move to impede their progress. "No. I tried every Reversable Charm I could think of, to even a simple Finite. Nothing worked, and they told me to get out of their house or they'd call the AFP on me... Australian Federal Police," she said, at Sirius's questioning look.

Sirius reached out slowly then, and took her hand in his. "I am so sorry, Hermione."

Hermione felt her entire body tremble then, especially at the electric shock which seemed to flow through her at the sensation of him taking her by the hand, skin to skin. "I just left," she said quietly. "I only made it back to the hotel for a few minutes to gather up my things and tell the lovely receptionist that my stay had been cut short. Thankfully, she didn't answer any questions and got me through to the Portkey Office in Melbourne, and I was able to get an emergency International Portkey back to our ministry."

Sirius eased himself forward, while Crookshanks hopped off the couch and went to sit in the window embrasure across the room. Gently, Sirius took Hermione into his arms, and was surprised when she all but threw herself into them, sobbing and clutching at him as if her very life depended on it. "It's all right," he whispered to her soothingly. "Tell me what I can do, and I'll do it. Tell me what I can do..."

Hermione swallowed then and slowly eased herself backwards and away from him, as brown met silver. "Make me forget," she whispered.

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Hermione..."

"Please," she begged him, her arms still wrapped around his neck. "I've wanted to for such a long time, Sirius. Please..."

Slowly, Sirius wiped a tear from Hermione's eye with the pad of his thumb. "I don't wish to take advantage of you..."

"I want you, Sirius Black," Hermione told him firmly.

Sirius's expression looked shocked for a moment before he yanked Hermione towards him and pressed his lips to hers. He felt her groan against him as he pressed her lips apart and tasted her for the first time, and wrapped his arms around her waist. Their tongues found one another and began that intimate dance, and Sirius tapped the table again, vanishing the tea service whilst simultaneously forewarning Kreacher that he or Hermione were not to be disturbed. Getting to his feet and keeping his arms around her waist, Sirius carried Hermione from the library and down the hallway, until they entered the master bedroom, which Sirius had had purged of all dark curses by Bill and Fleur as a housewarming gift.

A king-sized ebony four-poster bed dominated the space, with lush, black velvet curtains to go around it, and two matching night tables on either side. One wall was dwarfed by built-in ebony bookshelves, the books a much lighter variety than that which could be found in the library, while another took up a large bay window with a cushion upon the little sitting nook space. Two other doors could be found in the master bedroom, one leading to the large ensuite, and the other leading to the massive walk-in closet, suitable for two people's wardrobes. A vanity table and matching stool sat against another wall of the bedroom, a holdover from Walburga Black's days, while several portions of the floor were covered in the softest, blackest, sheepskin rugs. On the opposite side of the wall was a black secretary desk, which was close by the window, so one could look out it whilst attending to business or writing a letter, while on either side of the bed, a few inches away from the night tables, sat two large armchairs and ottomans, one decidedly more masculine, and the other far more feminine, while the masculine one sat next to the master bedroom fireplace.

Sirius spelled the bedroom curtains shut, and lit the fire, before he reverently placed Hermione at the center of the bed. He warded the door, putting up Silencing Spells as he did so, and gazed down at Hermione, and she met his gaze courageously. "Hermione," he said, speaking softly and at long last, "have you ever done this before?"

Hermione bit down hard on her lower lip, trembling as she forced herself to answer him. "No," she replied at last. "I... I couldn't. Harry, Ron, and I were always together when we were hunting for Horcruxes. Of course, Harry and I are like brother and sister, and Ron and I...well, we didn't feel comfortable getting that close while Harry was so close by, Silencing Charms notwithstanding, of course..."

Sirius hesitated again. "Are you quite sure, then, that you wish to give such a precious gift to me, then, Hermione?" he wanted to know.

Hermione nodded her head. "Yes," she replied. "All I want is you, Sirius Black."

Sirius gave her a small smile and a nod. "Very well, then," he said, and proceeded to undress before her while Hermione, in her nervousness, undressed herself, kicking off her shoes and suit before she lay, naked, on the black velvet bedding, which warmed her skin considerably as she watched Sirius undress.

"It's so warm," she whispered.

"Charmed bedclothes," Sirius explained as he continued undressing. "All the houses of the Sacred Twenty-Eight have them. They're able to read a witch or wizards body temperature, deduce what they need, and give back the desired temperature accordingly."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Merlin, I love magic," she said quietly.

Sirius smiled down at her and finished undressing, and watched as Hermione looked visibly shaken at the size of his member. "Hermione," he said softly, gently touching her leg, "we don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with."

Hermione reached down and took him by the hand. "I want it all, Sirius. Please."

Sirius nodded, and solemnly joined Hermione on the bed, running his hands up and down the length of her body. "You're so small...so perfect," he whispered.

Hermione flushed at his praise, suddenly finding just how much she truly desired him, as evidenced by the slickness that seemed to pool in between her legs. She trembled as Sirius inhaled then, sending goosebumps over every surface of her skin. Her eyes raised upwards and locked with the older man's, and Sirius stared down at her.

Slowly, Sirius dipped his index finger between her legs, and gathered up some of the wetness her pussy had produced. He did so carefully, and it didn't take him long to locate her clit, which he gently proceeded to massage. He did this for several moments, uninterrupted, while Hermione quickly fell into the rhythm, mewling every few moments as her toes curled, eyes rolled back into her head, and said head thumped down onto the pile of pillows at the head of the bed. Sirius continued in this vein before he tore his finger away, realizing that Hermione was plenty loosened up by then, and stuck his fingers into his mouth.

"Sirius..." Hermione breathed, watching his every movement.

Sirius finally smiled wickedly at her. "You taste divine," he proclaimed, before he positioned his hand back at her labia, and took some more of the slick, and rubbed it on his engorged cock, which caused Hermione to breathe sharply through her teeth. "We take this as slow as you need it to be, Hermione," Sirius told her, pushing her legs apart and settling his hands down beside her hips, gently easing her pelvis upwards. "Tell me when you're ready."

Hermione planted her heels onto the bed, forcing herself to keep her legs spread. "I'm ready, Sirius," she assured him, focusing on everything around her.

Sirius nodded, easing himself forward with a small snap to his hips, and eased himself inside her folds, before he broke through the barrier separating her pussy from the outside world. He took ahold of Hermione's hips then, breathing with her and apologizing for inflicting pain upon her, but Hermione gritted her teeth, assuring Sirius that she was all right. "Hermione..."

"Please," she whispered, as his hands drifted from her hips to gently play with her nipples, "I don't want you to stop. Please...keep going..."

Sirius nodded, encouraging her to wrap her legs around his torso as he slowly picked up his pace of thrusting in and out of her, and Hermione mewled as he repeatedly hit the spongy place inside of her that all the books proclaimed helped a woman to orgasm. Sirius bent his head, slowly teasing her erect nipples with his tongue, and Hermione's mewls turned into full on moans of encouragement at his actions.

"Don't stop," she begged as he further picked up his pace. "Please don't stop, Sirius..."

Sirius lifted his head, so as his eyes could lock with hers. "Never," he breathed, and quickly lowered one of his hands to her clit, which he caught between his index and middle finger and squeezed and rubbed it. "Can I make you come like this, Hermione?" he asked.

"Yes, Merlin, yes!" Hermione cried out, ecstatic, as she thrashed in every which way upon the surface of the bed, loving every moment of Sirius's touches upon her.

Sirius picked up his pace of rubbing her clit and, in no time at all, Hermione came apart on his fingers, trembling and squeezing, so that Sirius managed to get off as well. He let out an almighty growl as he spilled himself inside her, before he caught himself as he nearly fell down atop the younger witch. Gently easing himself outside of her, he kissed her forehead before he left her, walking over to the bathroom, where Hermione could hear water running, and she lifted her head, wondering if she had to leave.

She breathed a sigh of relief when Sirius returned, still naked, with a Pain Potion in one hand and a damp flannel in the other. She took the Pain Potion when he offered it, and gasped aloud as he gently cleaned her up in between her legs. "Was there a lot of blood?" she asked.

Sirius shook his head and banished the flannel to the laundry. "Just a little," he said softly, and casted gentle Cleaning Charms upon them, before he took the Pain Potion bottle away from Hermione and placed it upon the nightstand. He eased her underneath the blankets and got in beside her, wrapping his arms around her. "Is this all right?" he asked.

"Is what all right?" she wanted to know.

"Me. Holding you like this," he clarified.

Hermione smiled and nodded her head, nuzzling deeper into his embrace. "More than all right," she assured him.

~*~

Hermione woke up to her stomach growling and sat up in the great bed belonging to Sirius Black as the night before came rushing back to her. Shaking her head to clear it, she noticed that her beloved Crookshanks was curled up at the foot of the bed, dozing, and she slipped out from underneath the covers. But for Crookshanks, she was alone, and she wandered over to the window of the bedroom, pulled the curtains back, and saw that the sun appeared to be rising steadily in the sky.

Locating her wand upon the bench at the foot of the bed, she took up the length of vine wood and whispered, "Tempus," and the time 9:59 appeared in the air. Raising her eyebrows at the notion of having slept so long, she casted Cleaning Charms upon her clothes, and transfigured a stray thread into a hair tie. Grabbing up her beaded bag, she reached inside and found one of her dear Crookshanks' baskets and set it down on the ground. Making her way to the bedroom door, she opened it and made her way down the hallway, hearing the front door open as she did so, and the familiar tread of Sirius Black walking towards it.

Watching from the top of the stairs, unseen by Sirius, Hermione watched as he pulled the door open, and let out a noise of delight as a woman, nearer to him in height than she herself could ever hope to be, stepped over the threshold. She had long, dark red hair and deep green eyes, and she accepted the warm hug that Sirius offered to her. Pulling her long, woolen cloak around her, they began their conversation.

"When did you get back from Carmarthenshire?" Sirius wanted to know.

The woman smiled becomingly at Sirius. "Just yesterday, once the news managed to break out that Harry finally defeated that vulgar little man," she said with a laugh. "At least, that's what Petunia Dursley called him, anyway."

Sirius smirked and inclined his head. "Are they going to remain there long?"

"Dedalus is watching them now, as it's his turn, but, once the announcement comes that the rest of the Death Eaters have been hunted down, likely by the end of next week. I did hear that they got the Lestrange brothers, and Dolohov already. It's only a matter of time before they manage to find the others."

"With Kingsley and Alastor now in charge, I have no doubt," Sirius said, and took the woman gently by the hand. "How are you feeling?"

"It doesn't get any easier," Hestia said softly.

Sirius pulled her back into his arms, cradling her against him. "Hey, it'll be all right. I know it'll be all right. I'm always here if you need me. I promise," he said, and pressed a rather intimate-looking kiss upon her cheek.

Hermione yanked herself backwards then, and shot back down the hallway and into Sirus's bedroom, as quietly as she dared. Shutting the door behind her, she felt tears coming to her eyes then as she shakily lifted Crookshanks and put him into the basket. He only protested for a moment before she found a small container of cat treats in her bag and placed a couple within the confines of the basket, and shut the thing up.

Turning towards the small desk, Hermione advanced upon it, and grabbed a piece of parchment, and utilized a quill, which she dipped in the nearby pot of ink. She hesitated for a moment, forcing herself to stop trembling before she wrote anything down. It wouldn't do to topple over the ink pot, surely!

Sirius —

Thank you for everything.

I will never forget it.

—Hermione

Cleaning off the quill and replacing everything, save for the parchment (which she left in an obvious location for Sirius to find) she gazed around the room. With a quick spell, she made the bed and cleaned the sheets, before she nodded to herself. Venturing over to the fireplace, she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that it was connected to the Floo Network. She nodded decisively, before she approached it, and took a handful of the powder.

"Gringotts Wizarding Bank," she breathed, and was swallowed up in the green flames. She landed in the main lobby of the bank, and spelled the soot off from her person, Crookshanks yowling quietly from within the confines of her basket. Venturing towards Quabert's desk, she asked for an appointment, and was immediately granted one.

"I must confess I didn't expect you back here so soon, Miss Granger," Quadbert said, hopping into the chair behind his desk. "But, I must admit, when I tested your blood, I found several odd anomalies within it."

Hermione blinked. "Anomalies? Like what?"

"Like, seven generations ago, a very famous potioneer named Hector Dagworth-Granger was an integral part of the Wizarding World," Quadbert explained, and Hermione recalled Professor Slughorn speaking about him, and questioning whether or not she herself was related to him, and her immediate denial of the fact. "Hector had one son, Henry, who was a Squib. Henry had one son, Hugo, who was also a Squib. Hugo had Hunter; a Squib. So on and so forth, with Hunter's son Horacio, Horacio's son Herman, and Herman's children..."

"My uncle, Howard, and my father, Owain," Hermione whispered, her heart pounding so hard and so fast that she could hear it in her ears.

"Precisely," Quadbert said. "Squibs all, until you, Miss Granger. After so many generations, however, Squibs have no knowledge of the Wizarding World, which explains your parents' shock when Professor McGonagall came to your home in Hampstead and informed them of your acceptance into Hogwarts."

Hermione shook her head. "All right," she said at last. "What does all this mean, then?"

"Since Hector Dagworth-Granger left a will with very specific instructions, you meet their qualifications," Quadbert explained. "The qualifications were that his fortune, alongside with the family seats around the world, could only fall to an individual—witch or wizard. As you are the next magical member of the family, Miss Granger, you are now a very wealthy young witch. It isn't surprising, of course, that you now are the proud owner of Granger Castle in Somerset, or the cottage in Cotswold's, the chateau in France, the villa in Italy, burg in Germany, the hacienda in Spain, the chalet in Switzerland, or the Slott in Sweden. Not to mention the thousands of Galleons you can now inherit, which have been kept safely here, with interest, for over a hundred and fifty years, and a vault with unspeakably wonderful treasures."

Hermione straightened up in her seat then. "Could the Galleons I had originally be put into the newly discovered account?" she asked.

Quadbert nodded his head, and made a note. "Certainly, Miss Granger."

"I would also like to establish a charity for orphaned witches and wizards, whose parents died in the Second Wizarding War, no matter which family they come from," Hermione said softly. "I would like to issue ten thousand Galleons to the cause. Is it possible to promote such a charity, but not attach my name to it? Not that I'm not proud of it, of course..."

Quadbert nodded in understanding. "You don't wish to appear as if you're merely asking for handouts for yourself."

Hermione nodded. "Yes, that's right." She hesitated for a moment. "You did get my owl in the middle of last summer about renting out my parents' home?"

"Yes, and it all went through," the goblin assured her. "The renters have made a request to buy the property, but..."

"They may buy it," Hermione told the goblin. "Things in Melbourne didn't work out the way I anticipated them going. My parents won't be returning to England. Feel free to sell the property, as I have already taken out everything I wanted or needed from it."

Quadbert nodded his head, a momentary flash of sadness in his eyes, but nevertheless made the note as dictated by Hermione. "Anything else?" He looked her up and down. "You will need a home for three, I see, including your half-Kneazle."

Hermione blinked. "For three?"

"For yourself, your half-Kneazle, and the child you carry," Quadbert explained. "Will you wish to remain in England?"

"Yes," Hermione said, her voice trembling at the thought of carrying a child at the age of only eighteen, but shook off her worries; she had plenty of homes to choose from, plus many Galleons to her name. Physically, at the very least, she could provide for a child. "The cottage sounds lovely enough to me."

"Very good choice, Miss Granger," Quadbert complimented, pulling out a piece of parchment and pushing it towards her. "Just sign here, then, and the deed goes into your name. As you can see, Cursebreakers go to the property regularly, so you need not fear. Blood wards are applied, so only someone with blood can truly enter the house. As you are the first Granger with magical blood to run through your veins in seven generations, no one is allowed inside, save for the house-elves, who keep the house clean."

Hermione bit her lip. "I want their contracts to be stipulated that they will be paid for their services towards the House of Granger," she said firmly.

Quadbert smiled. "It shall be arranged, Miss Granger. Never fear."

Hermione nodded, and signed her name to the deed of the cottage, before she pricked her finger with the quill, adding her fingerprint in blood. Then, she folded her hands in her lap, watching as Quadbert snapped his gnarled fingers, leading the deed to poof in a bunch of magic. "It's going to the ministry, then?"

"To the Hall of Records," Quadbert nodded. "You are now the owner of Granger Cottage. I do wish you congratulations, Miss Granger."

Hermione smiled. "Thank you, Quadbert." She hesitated. "Might I use your Floo to go to my home then? I'll want to settle in as soon as possible."

"Despite the earliness to your pregnancy, carrying magical children is quite the feat indeed," said Quadbert, nodding in understanding. "Of course you may use my Floo, Miss Granger. The house-elves already know you're coming, and will be expecting you."

Hermione nodded, and got to her feet, taking Crookshanks' basket into her hands. "Thank you for everything, Quadbert." Turning, she made her way to the Floo, and took a bit of powder into her hands, before facing Quadbert one last time. "I don't need to ask you to keep the entirety of this meeting confidential, do I?" she asked him tentatively.

Quadbert shook his head. "No, Miss Granger," he assured her. "Every time a goblin meets with a client of Gringotts on their own, it is understood that the entirety of what is said and done is a confidential matter, unless the client themselves requests it to be announced in some way. Never fear, Miss Granger. Your secret is safe with us."

Slowly, Hermione permitted herself to smile at him. "Thank you," she said, one last time, before she stepped into the Floo, and called out, "Granger Cottage," and was swallowed up into the green flames to reach her new home for the first time.