It was absolutely inappropriate considering the circumstances, but Hermione couldn’t help but smile when she opened her eyes. She was standing on a tiny, cobbled Parisian street, the early-morning sun casting fans of pink and gold on the sides of the buildings. To her left was a café opening up for the day. Three elderly women - Witches, Hermione noted, taking in an espresso cup hovering mid-air by one’s gnarled hand and the dubious smoke rising from the mug at another’s “ sat close together at a table on the street, giggling softly. The oldest of them tipped Hermione a wink. She surprised herself by winking back.
She turned away from the café and examined the storefront on her right. “Curiousities et Trésors” was etched on the plate-glass window in scratched gold script. This is it, Hermione noted the small sign hanging on the door that read “Fiora Podlink, Proprietress”. She’s not going to have the shop opened so early, if at all, Hermione glanced over at the trio of witches again, as they burst into girlish laughter. She missed her friends already. She took a deep breath and rapped on the door of the curio shop. The door opened a fraction of an inch, and a hesitant voice spoke.
“Est-ce que je peux vous aider?” Hermione’s brain translated the French slowly. Fiora Podlink was asking if she could help her; she probably hadn’t expected a stranger on her doorstep at 7 a.m. Only a sliver of her cheek and one frightened, wary eye was showing through the gap in the doorway. Hermione thought she could see some of the fear leave that startled blue eye when Fiora saw only a lone teenaged girl on her doorstep. She tried to figure the best approach, hoping to keep the woman calm.
“Ms. Podlink? My name is Hermione Granger, I am a friend of Harry Potter’s “ Sirius Black’s godson,” she remembered Lupin’s story, Fiora’s soft spot for Sirius. It seemed the best way to go. “I was a student of Remus Lupin’s, as well. I know he’s missing.”
There was a short intake of breath and a small hand reached out and pulled Hermione inside the shop. Before her eyes could adjust to the dimness of the crammed interior of the store, Fiora Podlink was speaking to her, in confused, excited bursts. Her voice was husky and melodious.
“Harry? You know James’ son?? My god, you’re practically an adult! He can’t possible be that old, how time flies “ good lord, I’m getting old, getting old. Please tell me “Hermione, is it? “ do you know where Remus is? How did you know to come here? You seem awfully young to be in the Order, but I suppose that…can I make you some tea?” Fiora seemed to realize she was rambling, and stopped. She bustled around the room, readying the drinks. Hermione finally got a good look at her.
Hermione didn’t usually think of herself as particularly tall, but Fiora Podlink made her feel like Hagrid. The woman stood at just barely five feet, very neat and petite, which contrasted jarringly with her sweet yet raspy voice. Her features were pretty in a pointed, avian way. The biggest thing about her was her hair “ Hermione could have been gazing at her own unruly tresses, other than the fact that Fiora’s were, instead of mousy brown, a sunny yellow color. The over all effect she created was that of a startled baby canary. She was the brightest thing in the room, which was filled to the ceiling with artifacts and old furniture of all kinds.
Hermione couldn’t help but turn in place, her eyes darting from one item to the next “ from the mundane, such as a an old Muggle globe, to the fascinating, like what appeared to be a large glass case filled with enormous, jewel-encrusted butterflies. She realized with a start that Fiora was waiting for a reply from her. The past twenty-four hours threatened to crash down on her, but she shook her fear and exhaustion away for the moment.
“Ms. Podlink, I am very sorry to “ to come “ to you like this. I can explain. Yes, I am a very close friend of Harry’s, as well as Ron and Ginny Weasley “ two of Arthur Weasly’s children? As you guessed, I “ and Harry and Ron “ are members of the Order. New members, really. We’ll be in our final year at Hogwarts in the fall,” she said. If we live that long… “Harry and I were staying with the Weasleys this past week, we saw Professor Lupin and Tonks just a few days ago. Harry saw them Apparate in the Burrow’s backyard…” Hermione paused, feeling overwhelmed by the entire situation. She was so very tired.
Fiora Podlink took her by the arm, and the tiny woman led her to the counter that held the register. There were two small stools situated there, and she made Hermione sit on one of them. Without a word, she brought over two cups of tea and a plate of biscuits. Hermione was so grateful to be sitting, and eating, she had to force the cookie past a lump in her throat.
“Hermione. You seem like you’ve had a tough few days, and I can tell you’re upset about Remus and his friend, but I really need to understand how you came to be here,” Fiora’s eyes kept listing towards a small, closed door towards the back of the shop. Hermione knew the woman was very afraid of what was back there. The cup. The Horcrux.
“Well, Ms. Podlink, there was the letter you wrote Lupin last night…” very haltingly, Hermione told her how she and her friends has gotten their hands on that letter, and were afraid for Lupin and Tonk, but more importantly, “…Ms. Podlink? It’s the cup that Wormtail “ I mean, Peter “ gave you that worries me. I’m not sure how to tell you this, but, well, you said in your letter that you were afraid of writing what it might be. What do you suspect?” Hermione clutched her teacup compulsively.
“Oh my god. From the look on your face, young lady, what I suspect that “ that thing “ to be, is true,” all the color had left Fiora’s face. Her voice lowered to a hushed whisper. “Please tell me, it’s not a Horcrux?” She gripped Hermione’s arm tightly.
Hermione merely nodded at her. “I can’t believe this. I was afraid it might be, but I didn’t imagine that Peter was that accomplished “ or evil “ of a wizard. I keep forgetting he’s not the man I thought he was…” she trailed off, looking up at the wall behind the counter, which was cluttered with various receipts, photos and drawings.
“Ms. Podlink? Fiora? It’s “ it’s not Peter’s soul in the Horcrux. It’s Voldemort’s,” Hermione kept her voice low. She was about to explain Kreacher’s demise to the horrified woman, but Fiora interrupted her.
“Don’t say his name!!” She hissed. “That cup has been doing very odd things since last night. Creating a Horcrux is the darkest of Dark magic, and it’s possible that it has an awareness, that it knows we’re speaking of it. I hate to sound immodest, but I am an extremely accomplished Transfigurer. The fact that the cup is able to reveal its true nature “ even sporadically “ indicates that it has a mind of its own. Or a soul,” she finished, shuddering.
“That’s why I came, to warn you about the Horcrux,” Hermione started. “Harry and Ron are headed over to where Lupin and Tonks were to be staying, to see if they can find any trace of them there. But we had to let you know what it was that you had “ I have a feeling that Lupin suspected something as well, that may be why he’s disappeared…” she was suddenly distracted by one of the photos pinned on the wall.
The picture was an older one, curling at the edges. It showed four teenagers, in close-up, two boys and two girls. The lake at Hogwarts glimmered in the background. It was the boy on the left end that had caught Hermione’s eye. She finally understood what everyone, from Hagrid to McGonagall, had been saying to Harry for the past six years. There was no doubt in her mind that the boy was James Potter. Aside from the eyes, it was like looking at a photo of Harry…Well, maybe not exactly. Harry’s dad, who was mugging at the camera, seemed cockier, less sweet, than Harry. James had his arm slung around a beautiful red-haired girl who had to be Lily Potter “ or, Evans still, probably, seeing how young they were in the picture. She smiled solemnly at the camera. The girl next to her was a bit younger “ it was Fiora Podlink, looking radiantly happy, her cheeks in full rosy bloom, her blond curls flying in the breeze of that long ago day. The very handsome, dark-haired boy on her right snatched one of the curls, pretending it was a mustache, and she laughed even harder. Hermione gasped. It was Sirius. Sirius Black, at eighteen or twenty, the death of his friends and thirteen long years in Azkaban still several years in the future. No wonder Fiora fancied him, Hermione thought sadly.
“I’m the only one left,” Fiora’s voice startled her. She walked over to the picture, and pulled it down, placing it on the countertop. “This was taking at Hogwarts, on my graduation day. It’s terrible to me to think that I knew James and Lily so well, but their son never really did…”
“But he got to spend some time with Sirius, at least,” Hermione whispered. “And he looks just like his dad.” She reached into her bag and pulled out her favorite picture, the one that Ron had removed from her vanity mirror just a few hours ago. The one with the four of them laughing by the lake. She handed it to Fiora, who gasped.
“That’s unbelievable “ it’s like looking at a ghost,” she touched Harry’s smiling face, looked up at Hermione. “Weasleys, I’m sure, the other two? Those Potter men have a thing for redheads, don’t they? But looks like you do too, right, Hermione?” And she even laughed a bit as Hermione felt her face grow warm. Fiora put the photograph down, and spoke in a more serious voice. “I’m very glad Harry got to meet Sirius, and knew he was an innocent man. I only wish I’d gotten to see him again myself. Since corresponding with Remus, I’ve wondered again and again why he didn’t get in touch…”
Hermione didn’t know what to say, but Fiora shook her head and clapped her hands together. “Ok, enough rehashing the past. You came here, and I thank you, to take care of that Horcrux with me. Do you feel up to the task?”
“Well, I did promise Harry and Ron we’d wait for them to get here…”
“I think we can handle it together, you and me. I really shouldn’t say this to you, because nothing’s at all definite “ what really is, in this world anymore - but Minerva McGonagall has written to me several times in the past few weeks. With the passing of Albus Dumbledore, she’s now Headmistress of Hogwarts, and is trying to recruit me to replace her as Transfiguration Professor. Me! Rule-breaker extraordinaire! A teacher!” Fiora’s raspy giggles made Hermione smile, despite the circumstances. “But, I have been considering it, and even though it took me this long, I realize that you, my dear, are the ‘Miss Granger’ she speaks so highly of all the time. ‘Like you, Fiora’ she says ‘Clever girl, but getting herself involved in questionable adventures at times.’ It’s the ‘questionable’ that makes me think you’re up to the task, Hermione. What say you?”
Before she could reply in the affirmative, a shadow crossed the through the sun streaming in the plate glass windows. There was a slim, cloaked figure standing at the locked front door. Fiora clutched Hermione’s wrist, squeezed, let go.
“It’s alright. I had one early appointment scheduled this morning, a wizard who arranged to pick up a package on his way to work. Why don’t you wait for me in the storage room?” She gestured towards the small, closed door, where the Horcrux was. “It’s back there, on the second shelf, in a dark blue box. Don’t touch the box until I come back there, ok, Hermione? I’ll take care of this customer and I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
Hermione went towards the storage room with trepidation. She hoped Fiora would be quick “ she didn’t want to be alone with the Horcrux any longer than she had to be. She went into the small, shelf-lined room, but could bear to shut the door. She left it open a sliver, muttered “Lumos,” and stared hard at the plain blue box, innocent-seeming, sitting on the shelf.
Though she didn’t take her eyes off of the box for one second, she listened to Fiora’s light chatter as she let her early-morning customer in. Then man wasn’t very talkative “ or he was responding so quietly to Fiora’s small talk that his voice was inaudible from back here. She tip-toed over to the cracked door and peered out at the shop. Fiora was behind the counter, rummaging for her customer’s package. The wizard was tall and thin, dressed in a long black cloak, the hood obscuring his face from view.
Something about him stirred unease in Hermione’s stomach. She didn’t understand why, but she went over to the box housing the Horcrux and stuck it into her knapsack, cinching the bag shut tightly. She walked back over to the doorway.
“Well, you should be all set, then,” Fiora was handing the man a small, wrapped package. Hermione noted she was speaking in English, not French. Then wizard wasn’t local, then.
“No, actually, not,” the wizard began, but he was speaking so softly Hermione could barely discern the words. “This isn’t really what I came for, Ms. Podlink. I came for something else entirely. Something that you’ve had for a long time, that doesn’t belong to you. Something very very dangerous.”
Hermione didn’t like the words, nor the tone. It seemed neither did Fiora, who was reaching for her wand behind her.
“Don’t do it, Fiora. Though we were at Hogwarts together, we weren’t ever what you’d classify as chums, were we? In fact, we ran in pretty much opposite circles. My courtesy extends only so far,” the man hissed, louder this time.
Hermione gasped, ripped the door open, wand held high. The wizard turned, and before she could even think a spell at him, she was disarmed, her wand rolling uselessly across the floor. She dove after it and collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath.
The cloaked wizard stunned Fiora in one swift move and towered over Hermione. She pushed her hair out of her face and nearly screamed as his hood fell away.
“Snape!” There was a brief flash of light, and then Hermione saw only darkness.
The Time is Now by Hermione816
Chapter Notes: Hermione's made it to Fiora's shop. What will she find there? And whom? Guys, this is a BIG cliffie, my evilest of all my evil cliffies, so be warned!! ;-)