Vision

Hermione was standing at King's Cross station and she could see herself, a slightly older version of her, speaking quietly to her parents. Well, not her parents from this time, but the Grangers. Standing next to them was an eleven year-old Sebastian Granger who was looking around uncertainly. Then that older version of her smiled gently at Sebastian and helped him push his trolley onto platform 9 ¾. The Grangers followed, blinking in surprise as they passed through the barrier. Once they passed through there was loud whooping and Hermione was immediately assaulted by a couple boys about Sebastian's age.

"Aunt Hermione! Aunt Hermione!" Two handsome boys were chanting before they hugged her exuberantly. Harry with his messy black hair and green eyes, and Draco with his perfectly coiffed platinum blonde hair and his silver eyes danced about their aunt, their excitement over finally attending Hogwarts making them a little overwhelming.

"And who are these charming gentlemen?" Mrs. Granger asked politely. Hermione smiled affectionately at the two boys who stood side-by-side next to her.

"Mr. and Mrs. Granger, may I introduce my nephew, Harry Potter, and my godson, Draco Malfoy," Hermione explained politely. Each boy performed a proper bow. "Boys, allow me to introduce Mr. and Mrs. Granger. They are the parents of Sebastian Granger who shall be attending Hogwarts with you this year."

"What's your favorite Quidditch team?" Harry demanded once all of the proper introductions were completed. Sebastian looked up at Hermione uncertainly, but she smiled and nodded at him.

"Well," Sebastian said thoughtfully. "I've only been to two games, but in both of those the Pride of Portree did quite well."

"They're a good team," Harry allowed with a shrug. "I'm for Puddlemere, myself, but that's because my dad's a huge fan."

"Father likes the Appleby Arrows," Draco informed Sebastian, "but I like Puddlemere."

"You just like going to matches with my dad," Harry teased his friend. "He lets us eat the food and jump up and down and yell."

"Maybe," Draco allowed with a smirk. Harry chuckled and clouted Draco on the shoulder.

"Hey, Aunt Hermione, Uncle Sirius says that you have to help him. The twins have disappeared and he's convinced they're trying to stow aboard the train," Harry told his Aunt with a wicked grin directed toward Draco who snickered appreciatively.

"Harry James Potter! Those should have been the first words out of your mouth! Where's your uncle? And your father?" Hermione demanded anxiously. Harry pointed towards the other end of the train, and Hermione picked up her skirts and ran.

When Hermione came back to herself, she was sitting in James' arms in a small parlor. Sirius was holding her hand in his, his grey eyes on her face. She flushed slightly. Sirius' hand tightened on hers, and he brushed her hair out of her face.

"That one seemed like a pleasant vision," James offered, his arms tightening around Hermione. She nodded and relaxed slightly.

"Your Harry and Draco were…quite close," she said with a slight smile. "You took the boys to Quidditch matches."

"Does this mean we have to be nice to Lucy?" Sirius demanded, a scowl on his handsome face.

"I have already asked you to be nice to Lucius…repeatedly," Hermione reminded him gently. Sirius snorted incredulously.

"My love, the most you can really hope for is that Lucius and I won't actively kill one another," Sirius told her firmly.

"That's true, My Own," James pointed out. Hermione shook her head and sighed.

"For the sake of the children, I hope that you try," Hermione muttered finally. Sirius lifted her up and placed her gently on his lap. He tilted her chin up and looked deeply into her hazel eyes.

"For the sake of the children: ours, James' and even Lucy's—I would do almost anything," Sirius said softly and kissed her on the nose.

He would, too. Sirius is very loyal and he loves children.

I know.

It's quite odd, you know, to see Harry and Draco as friends.

Draco will be a very different little boy and so will Harry.

So my sort of brother will be a wizard, and you are apparently going to make sure that he's prepared for Hogwarts. Thank you.

Hmm, that doesn't seem quite fair though, does it? Perhaps I ought to do something for all of the muggleborn. Some sort of 'Introduction to Magical Society' for the incoming students? Perhaps invite the young ladies to a tea and the boys to some Quidditch matches?

You are such a pureblood. What about the girls that like Quidditch? There are plenty of sporty girls about.

Very well. I shall have to think on it. You are right, I must find a way that will allow all the children a fair and balanced introduction to magical society. I wonder how early I would need to contact the parents? Perhaps instead of obliviation for accidental magic, we could do a crash educational course for parents and the children, too. We need some sort of magical day school.

That sounds like a wonderful plan. I think I would have loved going to a magical day school. I would probably have had a lot more friends than I had at regular school.

Then I shall make it happen.

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HG/HP/HB

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Spring, 1981

"Domina, do you really feel that you should go out, in your condition?" Rabastan Lestrange asked nervously. Hermione glared at him.

"I really feel that if I do not go outside and get some fresh air and exercise that I shall scream," Hermione snapped irritably.

"But, Regulus said-," began Albemarle Wilkes and Hermione's glare leveled upon him so that he paled and swallowed convulsively.

"I am going outside," Hermione bit out through clenched teeth. She waddled to the door, her body a little less graceful than it used to be, but Sirius never complained. In fact, Hermione thought he took perverse pleasure in the fact that she was swollen with his children. He certainly kissed her belly often enough. There were four heavy sighs behind her, but all four of her milites trooped outside with her.

"Domina," said Hannibal Selwyn hesitantly, "it is raining. Perhaps an umbrella?"

"This is not rain," Hermione said disdainfully. "Mist perhaps. Or heavy dew, maybe, but certainly not rain."

"As you say, domina," he murmured. That meant that he believed that she was completely wrong. Hermione rolled her eyes irritably. Did they think that she didn't know their little codes? Stupid men with their stupid pigheaded ideas about what women should and shouldn't do.

Out into the steady drizzle, Hermione stalked down the street, followed by four miserable milites. She knew that they were merely worried about her, that her three lieutenants were wound very tightly with her impending confinement, and that Sirius was practically impossible with his overwhelming overprotective tendencies at the moment. To her milites, it was only right and proper that the men in her life should be protective of her, at this time more than any other. She held life within her, magical life at that, and the protection of the family's future—of the House's future—came before everything else. That she responded to their care and concern with indifference and anger upset them all. Hermione usually tried to stay calm, to allow them their little eccentricities, but it was all becoming very trying.

There was a lovely park near the Black townhouse that Hermione liked to walk through. As her time drew near, she had begun to daydream about bringing her children to this park to play. It wasn't anything as solid as a vision, but it was a pleasant enough idea. The milites relaxed almost imperceptibly. They were familiar with this park and used to Hermione taking a turn through it almost every day. If all she wanted was to walk through the park and then return to the townhouse, they were fine with that. Hermione took several deep breaths and felt herself relax slightly. None of them saw the threat until it was too late.

"Stupefy!"

It sounded as though several voices had bellowed at the same time, and Hermione whirled in surprise, her wand out. She looked around in horror at her milites laying on the ground, each one of them knocked out momentarily. She barely had time to register that she was in horrible danger when she felt a spell coming toward her. Fear crawled along her skin and rose in her throat. Fear for her unborn children tantamount in her thoughts. NO! Her mind screamed in panic, and there was a white, glowing shield around her; the same shield that protected her that day on the battlefield. She looked around and saw that there were at least six Death Eaters here—perhaps more. She needed to escape, but apparition might not be the safest for her at the moment. Without even thinking, she shifted to her lioness form and bounded out of the park.

All over magical Great Britain, wizards and one witch clutched at their chests when they felt a burning, tingling sensation. Each person realized quickly what that meant, and shoved their individual robes to the side to determine whether or not the paw prints on their collarbones were black. Every one of them breathed a quick sigh of relief and then began to try and contact their fellow milites. The message was the same from all parts of the country: domina pericula est. Sirius was frantic. Well, actually he had left frantic behind some time ago. James and Remus were restraining him from tearing London apart with his bare hands to search for Hermione. Lucius was disturbingly calm, until one looked into his eyes. He was the one who had come up with the idea of using Sirius to track Hermione.

"They share a natural bond, yes? Their magic is completely meshed. We should be able to use him to track her," Lucius had explained to Regulus and Severus who were almost giddy with relief at the idea. The three of them clipped magical tags on him that were similar in concept to a leash. If he apparated, or got ahead of them in his eagerness to get to Hermione, they would still be able to find him.

Where could Hermione go that would be safe? Where could she go that would be impervious to attack by Death Eaters? Or at the least, where could she go that they would not think to look? Hermione had bounded free of the park, frightened several muggles with a lion on the loose in London, run down an alley, shifted back to her human form, and cast heavy disillusion spells on herself so that the Death Eaters would not see her, or notice her. Fear was still racing along her nerves, and she wasn't thinking as clearly as she might normally. She picked up a dirty piece of string and made her own portkey—damn the consequences!

No one noticed the heavily pregnant woman who hurried along the campus of Oxford University and slipped into a small, nondescript shed. She squeaked in fear to see a pair of Death Eaters milling about the halls of Merlin College. Her wand was in her hand and both Death Eaters were bound on the floor before they might credit it. The students, who had hung back in fear, stared at her in awe. The professors were looking at her oddly, too. Then Hermione realized the professors weren't looking at her, they were looking over her shoulder. She risked a glance and saw four more Death Eaters. She squeaked again and ran in a zig-zag pattern toward the library. For whatever reason, in Hermione's mind the library always meant security. Despite her very best efforts she was struck in the shoulder with a slicing hex. She gasped in pain and shot a reducto over her shoulder. The cry of pain as her hex hit its mark made her smile grimly. Hermione slid into the library and barricaded the doors with a variety of protective spells and wards.

"Look here," said a furious voice. "You can't just bleed all over the place! What if you get it on the books! That's why we have an infirmary!"

I'm terribly sorry," Hermione said in her refined tones just before her eyes rolled back into her head and she slumped to the floor.

Pain woke Hermione some time later. Her shoulder was a dull ache, but that wasn't what had woken Hermione. It was rather, an altogether different sort of pain. It was sharp and insistent. She had tried to ignore it, but the pain wasn't having any of it. Neither was Old Hermione.

Come along, love, you're needed.

Make it stop.

Sorry, can't. I have no experience whatsoever with this sort of thing. I leave it entirely in your hands.

What sort of thing? Ooooh, it hurts.

Yes, I imagine it does. I've been told breathing helps. Try panting.

Excuse me?

You know, that noise you make when Sirius is ready for round three and you're trying to catch your breath?

Merlin's toes! A polite lady doesn't discuss such things in public.

We're not in public. Now, can you pant?

I, I suppose I could.

Good. Now, let Professor Shattuck help you up so that you can walk around a bit. I'm told that helps, too.

Professor Shattuck! Oh sweet Merlin in a rowan tree with a host of virgins! He can't see me like this!

How would Merlin and a host of virgins even fit into a rowan tree? How many is a host?

It's an indeterminate number…a multitude.

Fascinating. Regardless, Professor Shattuck is currently seeing you 'like this', and while he isn't my first choice he will have to do, especially as we're under siege by Death Eater.

"Er, Mrs. Black? I think it was Black," Professor Shattuck was muttering half to himself, half to her and ineffectually patting her hands. "Er, someone appears to be pounding on the door, but judging from the way you warded the door I am going to guess that they are not the sort we want in here. At least, I don't think so."

"Oh," Hermione groaned in pain, trying to lean over and protect her belly.

"Er, can I do anything? I mean, er, I could perhaps heal your shoulder? It's mostly stopped bleeding, but—OH Merlin!" Professor Shattuck shrieked at the top of his lungs when Hermione's water broke on the library floor. "You can't just do that in here! Really, madam!"

"Professor Shattuck," Hermione managed to grit out between clenched teeth as she gripped the arm of the sofa. "I have no control over circumstances at the current time. Believe me, I would much rather be elsewhere at the moment."

"What…what do I do?" Professor Shattuck demanded, wringing his hands. Hermione issued a low, keening noise that didn't sound all together human, and he paled.

"Help me up," Hermione managed to pant, and Professor Shattuck assisted her gingerly. She began to pace in the library, clinging to the Professor's arm and pausing every so often to cut off all of the circulation in said arm. He managed not to complain every time she did so and the both of them ignored the pounding and the sound of hexes and curses being thrown at the door.

"Will they be able to get in, d'you suppose?" Professor Shattuck asked uncertainly, glancing toward the door. Hermione smiled grimly at him.

"Not likely, Professor," she panted. "I was…most careful."

"I'm sure," he muttered as soothingly as he could and patted her hand absently.

No one seemed overly surprised when a host of milites burst into Merlin College led by a man in Auror's robes who looked almost wild with fear and panic. Sirius went unerringly toward Hermione, following their meshed magic. The three Death Eaters who were trying to break into the library didn't stand a chance. The milites were furious that their domina had been attacked and they took out all of their frustration on the three who were still ambulatory enough to cause problems. A number of them called out a variety of hexes all at once with less than pleasant results. All three Death Eaters ended up exploding from magical pressure and the more fastidious amongst them quickly scourgified the halls. Sirius was trying to break down the door by himself.

HERMIONE!" His voice was so anguished that it hurt Lucius to hear it. He held out a restraining arm.

"Sirius, calm yourself," Lucius said firmly. "It looks as though she warded it for protection, and all of the wards are ours. See look, that's a Black ward there. You know how to pick those apart. I'll do the Malfoy wards and Severus will do the Prince wards. We'll be in in a matter of moments."