I hope our story has a happier ending

I do bad things for the sake of good

Hermione clears her throat before popping her head in the sitting room. "Narcissa, do you have a minute? I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions—about sleep patterns and teething, and that kind of thing. Usually I'd read everything I could get my hands on, of course, but given the circumstances..."

"Yes, of course, dear." Narcissa is on her feet in an instant, easily slipping away from the chatter with Dean and Fleur she'd been lost in.

As soon as they're in the hallway, the older woman cocks a curious eyebrow. "What is it you truly want to discuss?"

"I just told you, I—"

Narcissa snorts. "Please. Darling, I know we haven't gotten to spend much time together, but I'm not quite that incapable of deciphering a person; intuition for reading people is a necessary prerequisite to legilimency, the reason why there are so few of us—as you well know."

Hermione blushes at the correct assumption that she'd used a ruse.

"I don't doubt for a second you would've done whatever it took to be prepared for Lyra's arrival. Information makes you feel more in control and equipped to handle the situation at hand, makes the overwhelming comprehensible—I am the same way. And so I know you must have managed to get books months ago; and besides that my niece just had a baby not long before you, and while she's not the literary type, that husband of hers surely bought out Flourish and Blotts' entire stock of maternity and infancy resources, panicky wizard that he is. On that same vein, if you did have a question about stages of development, I have no doubt you would turn to Nymphadora rather than myself, as she's experienced it all nearly two decades more recently." She gives Hermione a knowing smirk, but it softens as she continues. "It's fine if it's something you don't want the others knowing about—I understand the need for a pretense more than most. I just need to know what it's about so I can be of any help to you."

"I...yes, you're right, but—not here. Come with me, please." Hermione leads her down the hall, into the only unused guest room.

Remus is already there, looking equally confused and concerned as he and Narcissa both watch Hermione lock and ward the door, casting a muffliato and shield charm to prevent ears of the natural or extendable variety.

She takes a deep breath as she turns to the both of them, resisting the urge to pace at the front of the room while she speaks. "I'm sorry for dragging you both here without any explanation. But it's important—really, truly critical. I don't want to get the others' hopes up until I'm sure...and besides that, it's incredibly sensitive information."

"Okay," Remus says slowly, nodding in understanding. "I believe you, and I trust you of course. But why isn't Sirius here as well?"

Hermione bites her lip, knowing this is the part he's not going to like. "Well, it's—it has to do with knowledge of magic; dark magic especially, the underlying principles and some specific details, and—"

"It has to do with Harry." Narcissa purses her lips as the realization sets in. "So you think Sirius won't be able to think about it all rationally."

"He acts first most of the time," Hermione says apologetically, anxiously tugging at the end of her braid. "I love him, and I think he's a wonderful father, but when it comes to strategy and logic...well, he can be blindsided by his emotions. This is something we have to be entirely clearheaded about."

Remus sighs, looking very much his age as he braces his arms on the back of the chair in front of him. "You're absolutely right. He and I have been having that very conversation since the day after we were Sorted. Point taken. Carry on."

She swallows nervously, hoping she's understood everything correctly, hoping there's even the slightest chance her theory might be right.

(hoping she hasn't created hope where there is none.)