Hello again my friends. So this will be a three-shot unless you guys request another part in your reviews. It's not too long, and I might end up writing more. Well I don't own the HP series, obviously, and enjoy. Please review.

"Good morning, Mr. Smith," I greeted my patient. Tom has always been my favorite because, to be honest, he doesn't really need much therapy. Though, lately he has been having some very intense dreams about an event he swears is a memory.

"Good morning, my lady," he teased me. Our meetings were often playful, which is odd of a therapist and their patient. However, his playfulness stings as much as it entertains. The man in the chair in front of me looked so much of a younger Sirius Black, that his jokes made me miss the old Marauder even more.

"I've told you before to just call me Hermione," I really wasn't concerned with being too professional, since he preferred a more relaxed environment.

"Then call me Tom," he bantered in response.

"Fine, Tom," I accentuated his first name, "how was your past few days? Anything I should know?"

"Not much," he brushed me off nonchalantly, cleaning his nails. He then broke into a grin, "better now that I get to see your pretty self."

"Thomas Smith," I chastised grinning, also.

He winced with a smirk, "Ooh, last name too?"

"Yes, you cheeky punk," I smiled at his antics. "Seriously though?"

His smile dimmed and he got pensive for a second, "Not much. Just a dream that really bothered me."

I clicked the top of my pen and began to take some notes. "The same as usual?" I inquired.

Tom nodded once more, "I can remember most of it now. I was in a cave, looking for something. I took a boat across the water and when I got to the island, there was a basin filled with what looked like water. I drank it, to reach this gold locket, and I had this house-elf beside me. I handed the locked to the house-elf once I reached it. My throat felt like it was on fire, so I went to get a drink from the lake near the edge of the island." Tom's eyes were closed and I began tearing up at the dream. It was exactly like Regulus Black's story, and his eyes closed made him look dead. It was a scary thing to see and it took me back to the day that Kreacher told us the story. "Suddenly, something reached up and dragged me under," he cringed. "Then I woke up," Tom looked over and he saw me wiping my eyes. "Hermione, what's wrong?" he came over and sat in front of me, resting on his knees.

I laughed without humor, " Nothing, just an old story," I sniffed grabbing a tissue. Tom's brown eyes shown as he looked up at me.

"Well how about we go out for a coffee? You can tell me your story then," Tom asked, getting up. He in turn held out a hand to help me off my chair.

I nodded in response and grabbed my coat; it was time for my break anyways. I also had no more appointments until Monday, and it was Friday already. "I think I'm going to take the rest of the day off," I informed my assistant as Tom and I walked out the door.

We walked out the building and continued down the street to the little café on the corner. When we got inside Tom ordered our coffees; just the way I take mine. For a while we had morning meetings and we would take turns getting each other coffees. "Alright, my turn to be the therapist; you can be the crazy one for a change." Tom threw me a smirk as he started the conversation.

"You know I am a 'war hero', right?" I asked, referring to the past that had left me both physically and emotionally scarred. Tom nodded, growing solemn. When the war had finished, I'd wanted no more fame so I entered the field of psychology and therapy; Tom was my first patient. Tom had to fend for himself throughout the war, and spent the whole time in hiding. I had found him in the Great Hall after the final battle, wandering and you could clearly see how broken he was. My first instinct was to go up to him, where he then passed out at my feet. I took him in and nursed him back to health, setting off Ron's jealousy, leaving me single, and with a newly-healthy Tom. "Well, Harry's godfather had a younger brother. He helped us win the war, but nobody really knows."

Tom cocked his head to the side, "Sirius Black?" I nodded. "He had a younger brother?"

I nodded once more, "Regulus Arcturus Black."

"Regulus Black… sounds very familiar…" Tom spaced out. When the waitress walked over with our coffees Tom shook his head out. His eyes went wide as he looked around frantically, suddenly confused. Suddenly he pulled his wand on me and began rapidly questioning me. "Where am I? Who are you? Where's Kreacher?"