Werewolf!Hermione. Remione. In which there are strange magical happenings, time and dimension travel, and other wolfy things. "Hermione mused, in some detached part of her brain, over how fitting it was that she was going to die on Friday the 13th. She'd never been much of a superstitious person, so she supposed this was life's cruel way of punishing her with the irony."

He stood, his mouth opening and closing dumbly, and she laughed. "It's alright, Malfoy, I get it. You've shared enough feelings tonight to last the rest of your life. Don't hurt yourself." "Draco," he mumbled at her, just as she turned to walk out of the bedroom. "What?" "You can call me Draco. It's my name, you know."

She'd known that Sirius had a brother, of course. He complained about him all the time- loudly moaning to the entire common room about his stuck-up prat of a brother and how best to prank him. She had seen him around the castle before, sitting across the Great Hall or walking about with his Slytherin mates. None of that prepared her for coming face to face with him.

"Spent all year trying to find the Heir of Slytherin, yes. You didn't do a very good job, did you? I suppose that was to be expected, but I admit I overestimated you, Potter." When Harry continued to look at her, blank fury masking his features, she sighed dramatically. "I'm the Heir of Slytherin, of course." DARK HERMIONE. One-shot.