It's About Time

A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews! They make my days :)

Chapter Fifteen.

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They pulled apart gradually as the kiss slowed. James’ hands were fixed on Hermione’s shoulders as he drew a shaky breath, their eyes met in piercing stares.

“Oh…” James muttered for the third time that day, his forehead creased with perplexity.

“Yeah…” Returned Hermione, slightly awe struck.

Neither looked away from the other as they both pondered an identical unforeseen dilemma… something wasn’t right.

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As Hermione stood staring into James’ hazel eyes, she tried to grasp what had just happened. Maybe she was delirious from lack of sleep or just confused because of the swarm of emotions she was battling but she was convinced she had seen Harry… Harry collapsing to the floor in pain… because of her.

James was quiet as he pensively chewed his bottom lip. He offered Hermione a half-hearted smile and nodded his head in the direction of the school where they both walked in total silence.

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“Harry!!” Ginny shrieked as he fell unconscious to the floor in the middle of the corridor at Hogwarts.

Harry was slumped against the wall, his body limp.

Ron knelt down beside him and nudged his shoulder. “Harry! Wake up, mate!”

“Ron! He isn’t breathing!” Ginny cried, leaning in close to him. “I’m going to get help!”

She tore down the hallway in search of someone who could help them.

Ron remained close beside his raven haired friend. He withdrew his wand and pointed it at Harry’s chest. “Ennervate!” He commanded attempting to revive him.

Nothing happened.

The few agonizing moments that passed until Madam Pomfrey charged over seemed an eternity to Ron. Harry grew increasingly pale with each passing minute.

“Heavens!” The elder witch exclaimed when she saw Harry’s lifeless body. “What’s happened?”

“He just… just fell,” Ginny explained, trying to restrain her tears.

“I don’t think he’s breathing,” Ron said hurriedly.

Without another word, Madam Pomfrey levitated Harry’s body and began rushing towards the hospital wing with Ron and Ginny following frantically after her.

Soon, Harry was back in the hospital wing having been administered countless potions and undergone numerous spells. He was breathing…. barely, but otherwise, there was no change.

Madam Pomfrey was more worried than most had ever seen her. Her usually faintly lined face was heavily creased with concern while she kept constant vigil over Harry as he lay motionless upon the hospital bed.

“You ought to go rest some, Gin,” Ron said gently. “I’ll stay with him.”

Ginny was seated beside Harry’s bed, clutching his hands and willing him to open his brilliant green eyes.

“No. I’m alright,” She insisted.

He placed a hand on his sister’s shoulder.

“Go on, Ginny. Why don’t you go finish packing? We’ll be heading back to Grimmauld Place as soon as – ”

“We will go when Harry is able to travel,” Ginny said firmly.

“I’m afraid you may be waiting for a while,” Madam Pomfrey spoke up. “Mister Potter is not responding to any of the potions we have given him.”

“So, what happens now?” Ginny asked breathlessly.

Madam Pomfrey responded gravely, “We wait.”

Ginny eyes overflowed with tears. “No. No… there has to be more we can do. There has to be something!”

“I’m afraid not, Miss Weasley.”

“Then I am going to find someone who can help,” Said the young red-headed girl. She took a long look at Harry before leaving the ward.

Ron sank into a chair numbly and looked at his best friend lying in eerie stillness. It was unfathomable that after everything Harry had been through, that it could all potentially end like this.

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The following evening, Hermione clutched the troublesome, leather bound book to her chest as she walked slowly to Dumbledore’s office. Completely immersed in her own thoughts, she allowed her feet to travel completely of their own accord.

She rubbed her throbbing temples with one hand. There was simply too much to think about… too much to worry about… too much she didn’t understand.

She didn’t understand why she couldn’t forget her feelings for Sirius. Even after their argument. She didn’t even remember now what they had fought about but, though her pride stood firmly in the way, it was apparent that her feelings for him had progressed well beyond the physical. The book she held in her arms was a tangible reminder of that awful day at Grimmauld Place and she couldn’t wait to be rid of it.

She didn’t understand why her kiss with James hadn’t resulted in fireworks and ecstasy but instead invoked that awful vision of Harry suffering. Instead it was disconcerting and numbing. It just wasn’t right. The longer their lips had touched the longer Hermione waited for the rapturous sensation of a first kiss with someone one loved. Hermione had never really experienced that but, surely, there had to be more to it than that. And though neither had expressed this feeling aloud, she had a certain inclination that James felt the same way.

She didn’t understand why these meetings with Dumbledore never made her feel any better. He always said the same thing. That she would know to do “the right thing”. The Right Thing. That phrase was beginning to haunt her for she was positive that she was doing everything completely and incomprehensibly wrong. She wasn’t sure if she could even bear to return to her own time, if it were even possible, and face the repercussions of her actions; a world without Harry Potter. But would it be better to remain in the past and allow James and Sirius’ friendship to fall apart? To keep Lily Evans away from the man she wanted? These answers, Hermione did not know. She just did not understand.

And she hated not understanding.

Hermione was always the one who understood. The logical one. The reasonable one. But if she had learned anything over the past few months it was that she didn’t know anything. Nothing in any of her school texts could have taught her how to cope with this situation. Ever the independent child, she had always relied on books for knowledge, and for the first time in her life, Hermione wished she could ask her mother for advice.

Her thoughts were interrupted as Hermione came face to face with the stone gargoyles guarding the Headmaster’s office. She recited the password and trudged heavily up the spiral staircase, dreading hearing that prophetic phrase from the Headmaster’s mouth: “You know to do the right thing”.

She knocked feebly, hoping perhaps that he had forgotten their appointment and was away from his office.

“Come in,” drifted the familiar voice from within.

Hermione pushed open the wooden door and greeted the Headmaster who observed her over his half-moon spectacles. She placed the heavy book upon his desk and took her usual seat before him.

Dumbledore lifted the book and thumbed through a few pages slowly before speaking, his eyes taking in the ancient symbols with increasing interest.

The grating sound of a throat clearing cut through the heavy blanket of silence that had swathed them. Hermione glanced around her in confusion, having thought they were alone.

Dumbledore, on the other hand, did not seem surprised at the interruption. Indeed, he responded without even looking up from the book.

“What is it Phineas?” He asked, always sounding ever so cordial.

Hermione looked up at the wall beside Dumbledore’s desk as the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black began to speak.

“Is that the book that the muggle-born and my disowned great-great-grandson stole from the noble house of Black?” He sniffed repugnantly.

Dumbledore smiled faintly.

“It is the book that was borrowed from the Black’s home, yes, Phineas. I am sure Young Mister Black will see to its proper return.”

Phineas scoffed at his remark.

“I very much doubt that. Not that he would be able to figure out how to use that book properly, anyways. No interest in the dark arts, that boy.”

“Then do you know how to use it?” Hermione asked in involuntarily. The words seemed to jump out of her mouth before she could stop them.

Highly offended at being addressed so insolently by this young girl Phineas turned away to face the Headmaster.

“I wonder, Albus, if you allow students to speak to you in this manner? It certainly can not contribute to an effective learning environment. I, for one, shouldn’t have even allowed muggle-borns to be accepted to Hogwa – ”

“Have you something of use to explain about this book, Phineas?” Dumbledore interrupted, though his polite tone never faltered.

“The Great Albus Dumbledore hasn’t figured it out yet?” the man in the portrait chuckled haughtily. “I suppose I shouldn’t expect you to have any great knowledge of dark magic either, should I?”

“Indeed you are correct, Phineas,” Dumbledore answered, looking up at the portrait for the first time. “Your knowledge of the dark arts far supersedes my own.”

Apparently taking great pleasure in what he perceived as a rather lofty compliment, Phineas obliged.

“That book, Albus, predates even the Black Family line. Its conception is not known for certain though some believe it to have belonged to Salazar Slytherin himself. As you can see, the runes in which it has been transcribed are the predecessors to the more common runes studied today.”

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and steepled his long fingers as he listened to the former Headmaster speak boastfully.

“I am able to understand the antediluvian runes,” Dumbledore said. “However, as they do not seem to do any more than explain the ancient history of dark magic, I wonder if they are not a deliberate façade used to disguise the book’s true purpose.”

Phineas raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed with Dumbledore’s insight, but he said not a word. Dumbledore continued.

“Miss Granger, you have informed me that you were transported to this time while you were translating this book.”

Hermione nodded, waiting to see what the Headmaster’s train of thought would reveal.

“I believe, and perhaps Phineas would be so kind as to confirm or deny my accuracy, that this book has been bewitched to absorb curses upon whomever the owner wishes.”

“Curse, Sir?” Hermione inquired, again confused at how the Headmaster was able to come to such a conclusion.

Dumbledore leaned forward and rested his elbows upon his desk.

“Yes, Miss Granger,” He confirmed simply. Then turning once more to the portrait, he inquired an answer, “Phineas?”

“You are correct, Albus,” Phineas said, showing some pride at the impressive dark magic contained in the book. “Whoever is the owner of the book is able to use it to contain curses. When the book is opened, the curse is released upon whomever is holding it at that time.”

“As I suspected,” Dumbledore stated. “Miss Granger, do you know who would have been the last person to have access to this book before you found it?”

She nodded. Of course, she knew. Sirius had read every single volume in the entire Grimmauld Place library during her fifth year when he was locked up inside the house. Undoubtedly, he would have come across this one as well.

“Yes, Sir. Siri- Um. .. Yes. I believe I do know who it would have been. But it doesn’t make sense. He… I mean, this person would never have cursed me… and I wasn’t cursed, exactly. I was sent back in time.”

Dumbledore’s eyes sparkled knowingly as they often did.

“Perhaps, this person had only heard of the book’s powers through hearsay, passed down through generations and misunderstood its abilities? It may not have been meant for you at all.”

Hermione racked her brain. Why would Sirius have placed a time-traveling curse within the book? Especially to return to this time?

“I can’t think of a reason that a curse would have been cast, Headmaster,” She eventually answered. “I don’t believe that this person would resort to using dark magic for any reason.”

“Sometimes, Miss Granger, desperation causes even the greatest of men to seek equally desperate measures,” He watched her reaction intently.

Her brow furrowed and she chewed her bottom lip unconsciously. It was true that Sirius was impulsive and even reckless… but was he desperate enough to do something like this?

Phineas spared her from having to search for words by speaking up briskly.

“Are you implying, Albus, that one of my relatives wished someone to return to this year in time specifically? That hardly makes any sense! What about this year would have been important?”

As Phineas rambled on the answer suddenly came to her.

Hermione discovered how she had been sent into the past.

Sirius hadn’t meant to curse anyone else by sending them back in time. Of course. He had meant to cast the spell for himself!

In this time, this year… Sirius was in his prime, he had his whole life ahead of him.

He had been desperate when locked up in Grimmauld Place and he had found the fabled book in his family’s library and tried to wish himself back to his school days, probably hoping that he could somehow prevent the tragedies of his friends’ deaths and his imprisonment.

And Hermione, trying to find some key to lead Harry to Voldemort’s horcruxes had unknowingly stumbled across the book, surely she was the first to open it since Sirius, and ended up here herself.

The realization sent shockwaves throughout her rendering her unable to speak. After all this time… she finally knew what had happened. And even worse, she understood how desperate Sirius must have been during that year. Her heart ached for him.

“Miss Granger?” Dumbledore’s soft voice broke into her introspective reflection.

“Yes, Sir?” She answered, her voice quavering slightly with emotion.

“This has shed some much needed light upon your situation, has it not?” He asked kindly.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Now, I do regret to inform you that I don’t believe this book will do us any favors by returning you to your own time. If I am correct in assuming that you were the unforeseen victim of this bewitched book, it will then be far more involved to find a way to return you home.”

“Indeed!” Boomed Phineas’ voice again. “Only the rightful owner of the book is able to command anything from that ancient tome. Only the rightful owner of the Black estate. Not just some pilfering muggle-born girl and -”

“That’s quite enough, Phineas,” Dumbledore threatened, though somehow his voice remained as calm as ever. “Miss Granger, if you wouldn’t mind leaving this book with me, I shall like to examine it further.”

Hermione nodded meekly and rose to her feet.

“Thank you, Sir,” She said quietly before turning and walking out of the office in a whirlwind of perplexity.

All the way back to her common room she tried to wrap her brain around everything that had been discovered. Even though she hadn’t told Dumbledore that she knew Sirius Black in her own time, she had come to realize that the Headmaster had figured it out by now. He always was many steps ahead of everyone else.

But even beyond the recognition of how she had ended up in the past, she was astounded that Sirius had attempted to travel back to this time himself… to the last time he had been truly happy, she comprehended.

And after everything, Dumbledore still didn’t believe there was a plausible way to send her home. All the better thought, she thought. Who knew if there was even a home for her to return to now after the mess she’d caused?

As she walked she replayed the conversation over and over in her head. Phineas had stated that “only the rightful owner of the book is able to command anything from that ancient tome. “Only the rightful owner of the Black estate.”

Sirius had indeed been the rightful owner of the Black estate at that time and until his death when he had left the entire property… to Harry.

She froze in place.

Harry was now the rightful owner of the Black estate.

Harry was the only one who could bring her back.

Her brain was suddenly inundated with more questions. Would Harry be able to decipher the camouflaged power of the book if he even found it? Would Phineas aid him as he had her? If Harry did learn what the book was capable of, how much time would that leave her? Or had she already caused so much damage that there was no Harry to solve this mystery?

These innumerable queries plagued Hermione all the way back to the common room and throughout the night as she lay awake, staring out at the starry sky, wondering… wondering… if she would ever get any answers.

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Remus Lupin was seated on his thread-bare sofa scouring the Daily Prophet for any news that may be of use to the Order of the Phoenix. It had been too long between incidents. That alone was suspicious.

It was as though the entire wizarding world had stopped to wait until Harry Potter was ready to fight.

A rapid knocking at his door boomed though his tiny flat.

He got to his feet stiffly and crossed to the weather worn door. He pulled it open to reveal Ginny Weasley standing before him, hand still poised to knock.

“Ginny?” Remus asked worriedly noticing that she had been crying. “Are you alright? What’s wrong?”

She walked past him into his home and spun around to face him.

“Remus, you have to tell me how we can save Harry,” She commanded though her voice was shaking steadily.

The older man closed the door and furrowed his brow.

“Has something else happened to Harry?” He asked anxiously.

“He’s getting worse, Remus! None of the potions are working!”

“Merlin…”

“Merlin, is right!” Ginny cried, unable to control the tears of anger and fear. She stepped up to her former professor and gripped his hands. “Promise me that he isn’t going to die, Remus.”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry but you know I can’t promise you that.”

“Then what can we do, Remus? What can I do?!”

“There’s nothing we – ”

“TELL ME!!” She begged, staring up at him.

“Calm down, Ginny,” Remus said firmly. “I’ve explained this to you already.”

“So, you aren’t going to try and help? You. The only person with the knowledge to help and you won’t do it?” She spat, her mounting anger causing her to lash out at him.

Remus walked away and slammed a tea kettle onto the stove furiously.

“I refuse to have this conversation with you again!” He argued, looking weary despite his growing frustration.

“Is this the life you want, Remus?!” Ginny retorted threateningly. “You want it to stay this way?! Voldemort growing stronger by the day while Harry gets weaker? You, devoting your life to the Order so you don’t have to face Tonks or anything to do with your own life?!”

Remus turned his back on her as she spoke. When she had finished, he faced her and answered with a growl, “You are completely out of line, Ginevra.”

Ginny knew she was had gone too far.

“I’m sorry, Remus. I – ”

She was interrupted though when a familiar Patronus flew in through the window.

Kingsley Shacklebolt’s deep voice emanated from the illuminated lynx Patronus.

“A large group of suspected Death Eaters have gathered in Kent. Contact Order at once. Meet at Headquarters.”

The second Kingsley’s voice faded, the lynx dissolved into silvery vapor.

Remus did not waste a moment, rushing over to grab his cloak and wand he turned to Ginny with his hand on the door.

“I would help if I could.”

“I know,” Ginny answered apologetically.

In one swift motion, Remus flung on his cloak and stepped out the door. He apparated away just as the tea kettle began to whistle.

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Early that Saturday morning the castle was abuzz with activity. Students were busy bundling up, eating hasty breakfasts and readying themselves for the last trip into Hogsmeade Village before the Christmas holiday.

Hermione sat in the Great Hall, picking at a piece of toast, while she waited for James and Remus to come down from Gryffindor Tower. The two boys planned to go into town with her and Nadine that day. Sirius, no doubt, had plans with Callie and the boys had all wondered as to Peter’s whereabouts recently.

Hermione had reluctantly kept her mouth shut when this topic had arisen, hoping to find the right moment to encourage the Marauders to reach out to their less popular companion.

But as James and Sirius were still not speaking… and neither were Hermione and Sirius, it would pose a problem to convey anything to them as a group. Hermione sighed to herself, what a mess she had caused. The more she thought about it, the stronger her convictions were that she would have to be the one to, at least attempt to, fix it. No longer could she burden Dumbledore with her dilemma nor could she expect Harry to put together all the pieces of this convoluted puzzle.

She continued to half-heartedly eat her breakfast when she saw Lily enter the Hall laughing and smiling more brightly than Hermione had seen her in quite a while. Hermione did not have to wait to discover the source of Lily’s happiness as James walked in after her, also laughing enthusiastically. Strangely, Hermione found that she did not feel even the vaguest twinge of jealousy at the sight of the two who were so clearly happy to be on good terms once again.

Upon seeing Hermione already seated at the table, James offered Lily what seemed to be an apologetic shrug and parted from her to sit beside Hermione whom he greeted warmly.

“Morning!” He smiled widely.

“Good morning,” Hermione greeted, genuinely happy to see him. Despite the blatant lack of romantic spark left between them and everything else on her mind, she found that she still felt rather cheerful at his presence. She smirked at him, “You’re in awfully good spirits for so early in the morning.”

His smile wavered momentarily as his eyes shifted from Hermione to Lily seated a short ways down the table and back.

“Er…,” He laughed with a slight discomfort as though he had been caught misbehaving in class. He recovered quickly though and said, “It’s a Hogsmeade trip. Of course, I’m in good spirits! Now if only Moony would hurry up, we can head off.”

As though the werewolf’s finely tuned senses had heard James’ very words, Remus chose that moment to walk into the Great Hall flanked by Sirius and Peter.

“Wormtail! Where’ve you been, mate? We thought maybe you’d been eaten by Mrs. Norris,” James teased the pudgy boy with sandy blond hair.

Peter emitted a high pitched squeal of a laugh and sat down beside James.

Remus and Sirius took their seats opposite James and Peter. As had become routine over the past few days, James and Sirius acted as though the other was not there at all.

Hermione watched Sirius as he too slowly dissected a slice of toast with a lack of enthusiasm, just as she had done. Over her shoulder she heard Callie call his name and he looked up, sending her a wink and a trademark grin that disappeared the moment he looked back at his plate.

Sirius felt her eyes on him and forced himself not to look at her, but as soon as he noticed her look away in his peripheral vision, he gazed over at her. He noticed with a sliver of hopefulness that she was seated slightly further from James than usual but that slight optimism slipped away when he detected how cheerful James was that morning to be spending the day with his girlfriend. Though what he didn’t see was that the actual reason James was smiling so brightly because of the attractive red head seated a down the table.

“So, Moony! Are you ready for your first Hogsmeade trip with Nadine? Planning to take her up to the Shrieking Shack to do some howling, eh?” James joked, laughing loudly and nudging Peter with his elbow suggestively.

Remus blushed furiously and threw a furtive glance in Hermione’s direction indicating that James should watch what he said, unbeknownst to any of them, Hermione, obviously, knew Remus’ secret already.

“No, Prongs,” Remus answered sensibly. “We’ll just be doing some Christmas shopping and probably head to the Three Broomsticks with you all.”

“Fair enough,” James said with a smile. Then turning to Hermione, he concluded, “Shall we go then?”

Soon, Hermione and James were joined by Remus, Nadine and Peter on the chilly walk into Hogsmeade. Sirius had gone to join Callie with whom he would be spending the day. The five students chatted easily about classes and the forthcoming holidays as they walked, eager to reach the village where they could seek refuge from the cold inside one of the many shops.

Their first stop was Honeydukes where dozens of students were excitedly purchasing last minute gifts for friends and family members. Hermione hung back and watched as the holiday frenzy buzzed her. Her thoughts trailed back to the Christmas she spent at Grimmauld Place in her fifth year, surrounded by Harry, the entire Weasley family, Sirius, Remus and a number of others who made up their large, extended family; that had been her favorite Christmas to date. And as they often did when she thought of that Christmas, her memories of the kiss between her and Sirius came flooding back.

She had been heading downstairs to the kitchen when she ran into Sirius on the staircase. He was still in the midst of his jovial Christmas cheer and had slowed to greet her with what she now knew as his legendary grin. So completely did she remember the way her pulse began racing and her stomach fluttered at the sight of that smile… that smile that made her feel that she was the only female on Earth. She remembered it so vividly though because his smile had alwaysand would always have that very effect on her.

He had nodded his head upwards and glanced with his eyes at the mistletoe hanging from one of the mounted house elf heads just a foot above his head. Hermione had scarcely dared believe that he was hinting at what he seemed to be insinuating … she felt her face flush with heat as Sirius leaned into her. She backed into the wall and he moved closer still, whispering that absurd line into her ear, the same one she had heard him say to Callie. She had even known it was ridiculous at the time bit she didn’t care, she wasn’t aware of anything except for the deliciously forbidden Sirius Black whose lips hovered inches away from hers.

He’d braced himself with both hands on the wall as he placed a feather-light kiss upon her lips before rising up, winking at her and continuing on his way up the stairs. Hermione, on the other hand, had apparently lost all control of her faculties as her legs turned to gelatin and her stomach did cartwheels around her rib cage. He had barely touched her and her entire body was betraying her every conscious effort to regain control. Only when she heard Mrs.Weasley calling everyone in for dinner, did Hermione finally manage to descend the remaining stairs to the kitchen.

“Hermione?”

A deep voice broke into her daydream. She looked up to see Remus looking at her with his soft amber eyes. He grinned his sweet lopsided smile at her.

“Where were you, eh?”

Hermione shrugged. “Just a bit homesick is all. With the holidays…”

She directed her eyes away from his and Remus put his arm around her shoulders, offering her a friendly hug. At that moment, she could have forgotten she was lost in the past, because Remus was just as comforting and familiar as his older self for whom she held so much respect.

Taking a few deep, calming breaths, Hermione managed a smile.

“That’s better,” He said kindly. “Come on, everyone else is outside.”

Remus, ever the gentleman, lead her out of the sweet shop and onto the lane. Bustling students swarmed around them when they heard Sirius’ voice shout over the dull roar of the crowd.

“Hey! Watch where you’re going, McNair!!”

They were immediately thrown into defense-mode. Remus grabbed his wand and shoved his way towards the center of the gathering group with Hermione at his heels. When he pushed his way into the the circle, he found Sirius standing opposite Damien McNair, glaring viciously at one another. Frank Longbottom was angrily shouting at another Slytherin and James, Peter and Nadine burst in a moment later.

McNair lunged forward to shove Sirius.

Callie screamed and James jumped in front of his best friend, completely disregarding the fact that they weren’t speaking, and allowed McNair to shove him back into the surging crowd of onlookers rather than Sirius.

“Get out of the way, Potter!” Sirius snarled.

McNair emitted a menacing cackle.

“Oh that’s rich! Don’t tell me you and your boyfriend have broken up, Black.”

James whirled around to face Damien, pulling out his wand and aiming it at the Slytherin. Rodolphus Lestrange and Bellatrix Black chose that moment to stroll out of the crowd and into the center of the action. Regulus appeared then too but lingered near the edge of the group rather than marching out in front.

Remus, sensing that this scuffle was quickly getting out of hand, rushed forward as well with his own wand out but held at his side, followed quickly by Peter. Hermione and Nadine began to follow but Remus held up his hand forcibly, stopping them both dead in their tracks.

Sirius was livid. He could fight his own battles, especially against his little brother’s Death Eater cronies.

“Get out of here, all of you!” He shouted at his friends and housemates, standing fiercely in his defense. Not one of them moved, though James glared back at him.

Bellatrix sauntered up slowly, laughing evilly.

“Want to take all of us on by yourself, Cousin?” She sneered dangling her wand in front of her Sirius’ face.

The moment Hermione saw Bellatrix approaching Sirius emitting that maniacal laugh, she sprang forward, wand at the ready. She opened her mouth to hurl a curse at the girl who would one day take Sirius’ life and destroy the only family Harry had ever known. Before she could utter a sound, she was grabbed by the back of her sweater and pulled back forcefully to the edge of the group.

She looked up, shaking with adrenaline and jumped when she saw Sirius glowering down at her, still maintaining a firm grip on the fabric of her sweater which was balled in his fist.

“I said, get out of here,” He growled in a dangerously low voice.

Hermione glared back at him defiantly and did not budge.

“Suit yourself,” Sirius spat before letting go of her and turning back to his cousin. “Back off, Bella, this isn’t your fight.”

“I told you this wasn’t over,” Rodolphus Lestrange spoke up, stepping forward from behind his future wife. “And assuming your girlfriends aren’t going to come to your rescue again, this time we’ll finish what we starte-”

“Incendio!” McNair interrupted with a commanding shout, his wand pointed directly at Nadine, vengeance gleaming in his bulging eyes.

The leg of her jeans went up in flames that Remus quickly extinguished with an ‘Aguamenti’ charm.

Sirius ran out deliberately in front of Remus who had turned to fire back at McNair.

“Locomotor Mortis!” He yelled, causing Damien McNair’s legs to bind beneath him as his forward momentum sent him flailing to the floor.

“Stop that! Stop that, right now!!” A high pitched voice penetrated through the mass of raucous students. Tiny Professor Flitwick was forcing his way through the group with great difficulty.

“Break it up, boys! Go on!” He scolded them as he finally reached the center of the tense circle. They all remained in their fighting positions, none of them wanting to be the first to secede.

But Professor Flitwick was too angry to be concerned with the petty pride of teenage wizards.

“You heard me, Mister Lestrange! Help Mister McNair up and off you go! That goes for you, as well, Mister Black, Mister Potter,” and heaving an exasperated sigh as he took in the entire entourage of Gryffindors ready to fight, “and the rest of you. Go on.”

The diminutive professor stood waving away the onlookers and waited until the very last of the students had gone off to enjoy the rest of their day. Once reassured that the fight was completely broken up, he walked away, shaking his head to join his fellow teachers for a much needed drink.

Sirius apparently had a similar idea because after storming away from the fracas and being looked over worriedly by Callie whom he stubbornly reassured that he was unhurt, he stomped into the Three Broomsticks and sat heavily at a booth to order the strongest drink they would serve him.

Outside on the street, James paced furiously back and forth as Remus looked over Nadine’s leg to ensure there were no burns from the spell McNair had thrown at her.

“Are you sure you don’t need to go to the hospital wing?”

“I’m fine, Remus,” Nadine said for the fourth time, though she couldn’t help but smile softly at his considerate nature.

“Are you alright, James?” Remus asked, transferring his attention to his bespectacled friend.

“Fine,” James said through gritted teeth.

“Calm down, Prongs,” Remus advised approaching his friend. “Those Slytherins have always been – ”

“What the hell was he on about!? Picking a fight with those gits? He could’ve gotten himself into loads more trouble if we hadn’t been there!” James ranted, still pacing.

“We were only trying to help,” Agreed Peter, chiming in from beside Hermione and Nadine.

Remus laid a hand on James’ shoulder in the comforting manner that was unique to Remus alone and looking between his two friends said, “What matters is that we were there and nothing worse happened.”

James nodded solemnly, though still deeply troubled by the ongoing argument between him and Sirius.

“Alright,” Remus concluded. “Let’s go inside and have a drink, shall we?”

The five friends entered the pub only to find it packed with students trying to stay out of the cold. In the middle of the room there was a small table for two beside another larger table. Remus offered the smaller table to James and Hermione, leading Nadine and Peter to the second table where they were soon joined by Lily who was relieved to find an open seat so she would not have to impede upon Frank and Alice any longer.

Hermione sat quietly while James went up to the bar to order a hot cocoa for her and a butterbeer for himself. She hadn’t said a word since the argument with the Slytherins and the image of Sirius’ glare resonated in her head. He was still furious with her, as was evident in his every action. Why had she even tried to help him? She could not control herself around Bellatrix’ gloating sneer. But the anger she comprehended in his eyes when he had pulled her away from the fight plainly read: unforgivable. He would never forgive her for what she had said.

As angry as she still was with Sirius, her willpower waned whenever she found herself within close proximity to him.

And now she had come between him and James.

Hermione sat back and observed the room, the people that had come to mean so much to her in such a short time. She looked up as James crossed back across the room from the bar, drinks in hand. She watched as his eyes met Lily’s, the warm smile that he saved just for her, the concerned expression upon Lily’s face.

She watched as Sirius sat brooding in a nearby booth beside a window and she watched while he and Callie silently drank their butterbeers.

Hermione took it all in. She glanced from Sirius to James to Lily and back to James. And in that moment, she could see with crystal clarity, the lives she was tearing apart and the future she was destroying

She knew what she needed to do. Just as Dumbledore had said… she had to do the right thing. For the greater good, she had to leave. As long as she remained there, she posed a threat to the futures of everyone she cared about. So she would leave. She didn’t know where she would go… she didn’t care. But leave, she would. And she would do it now.

“James,” She began slowly. “I… I can’t do this anymore…”

“What?” James asked, his face reading more surprise than confusion. “You can’t do what?”

“I can’t… this is wrong. It isn’t supposed to be like this.”

“I don’t know what you’re saying, Hermione,” He stated again. “I know the other night was awkward but-”

“Right!” She interrupted, shaking her head. “It wasn’t right.”

James leaned forward, reaching across the table and took Hermione’s hands in his.

“Hermione,” He began, looking her directly in the eyes. “I think you are amazing and I’m not sure what happened with that… kiss… I know it certainly wasn’t what I thought it would be but…”

“James,” Hermione waited until he looked back at her. “Do you honestly feel that this, you and I… does it feel right to you?”

James squeezed her hands and ran his thumb back and forth over hers as he considered his response.

“No… no, it doesn’t,” He admitted earnestly. “But I genuinely believe that… there is something between us…”

“There is,” Hermione agreed, wishing she could be persuaded to change her mind. But she couldn’t turn back now. ‘You know to do the right thing,’ Dumbledore’s voice repeated in her head. So she pressed on. “And that’s why I can’t stay here. I have to leave. It isn’t supposed to be like this, James.”

“Hermione, please stop saying that,” James urged.

“I can’t… I can’t tell you why, James… but I have to go.” She pulled her hands away but James stopped her.

He could tell by her determined demeanor that by ‘leaving’, her intent was that they would never see each other again.

“Is this because of Sirius?” He asked, his gaze fixed upon hers, both acutely aware that Sirius was seated nearby.

Hermione absorbed his question slowly. “What?” She whispered.

“I know, Hermione,” He said deliberately.

She shook her head slowly. “There is nothing between Sirius and I…”

James smiled at her in sad acknowledgment.

“Hermione, don’t.”

“Don’t wha-”

“Don’t. Don’t do that. I know… and it’s alright.”

Tears began to stream down her face. “Oh, James… I’m so sorry. I never meant for… But it doesn’t matter. I can’t stay anyways.”

“Are you going to tell him?” James asked.

“What?” She asked in confusion through her tears.

James’ eyes were beginning to well up now too. “Are you going to tell Sirius that you’re leaving?”

She shook her head and took a deep shaky breath. “I can’t. I just have to go. I can’t explain it all to you… you just have to believe me. Someday maybe you’ll understand why.”

“I don’t understand,” He argued plainly.

“I’m doing the right thing, James. You have to trust me. It has to be this way.” She rose slowly to her feet.

“Wait. Now? You’re leaving now?” He rushed to ask her in a hushed voice, pulling her back into her seat.

Raising her eyes from the floor to look at him, she nodded.

“I have to. If I wait another second, I might not have the strength to do this.”

“Hermione, please,” James begged. “Will you…”

“What?” She asked breathlessly.

“Will you say goodbye to him?” James requested. “You can’t leave without saying goodbye to him.”

Hermione just shook her head again. “I can’t, James. I… can’t.”

“So, this is it?” His voice too began to quiver.

“Yeah…” She uttered, under her breath.

James stared at the young witch across from him and saw her in a new light. He knew he might never understand why she was doing this but he did finally know one thing for certain.

He took a long deep breath and spoke the words he had long wanted to say only now realizing for the first time that he did not mean them in the way he had once thought.

“I love you, Hermione.”

She leaned forward in her chair, tears streaming freely down her cheeks.

“I love you too, James.”

As they looked at one another they shared a poignant smile.

For they both knew theirs was not a romantic love… it was a deep, familial love, an inherent bond and a desire to protect one another. They were family… siblings… friends.

So, gathering every ounce of strength she could muster, Hermione stood and walked out of the Three Broomsticks… away from James… and away from Sirius Black. She would do what she should have done months ago and walk away.

She would sacrifice the life she had begun in this time to give her friends a future… to give Harry a future.

Unbeknownst to James and Hermione, the realization of their feelings had been overheard by two others who happened to have been crossing to the bar within earshot. Though all these two heard, were the declarations of love… and not the platonic enlightenment behind them. They hadn’t heard the goodbyes or any other words the two had shared. All they heard was “I love you”.

Lily Evans’ and Sirius Black’s eyes met over James’ head as he sat, unaware. A silent commiseration passed between them.

Lily watched Hermione disappear out the door and sank down into her chair, a lump rising steadily in her throat. Well, that was it. James loved Hermione… And she would have to move on. Excusing herself hurriedly from Remus, Nadine and Peter who had not been privy to James and Hermione’s words; Lily, too, exited the Three Broomsticks.

Sirius felt as if the very breath had been knocked out of his lungs. Part of him wanted to laugh… the bitterness was almost too much to bear. He watched Hermione’s retreating form silently. As the words he had heard both Hermione and James confess echoed over and over in his mind, a wave of defeat washed over him and he made a decision.

Swallowing with great difficulty, he turned back and returned to his seat across from Callie.

Callie quirked an eyebrow at him as he slid into the booth.

“Did you forget something?” She asked with a pleasant smile and a playful laugh, indicating his empty hands. “Where are the drinks?”

“Callie… we need to talk,” Began Sirius, disregarding her question.

“About what?” She said casually.

He paused. She deserved honesty.

“I can’t be with you anymore,” He said quietly.

Her head snapped up.

“Excuse me?” She posed the question genuinely believing that she had misheard him.

“I said, I can’t be with you anymore.”

“But… why?”

The unexpected announcement had taken her by surprise though Sirius was deliberating over the very same question himself.

He opened his mouth to respond but found that he didn’t know how to answer her.

“Sirius? Is it… someone else?” Callie asked hesitantly.

Slowly raising his eyes to meet hers, he answered, “Yes.”

“Oh…”

“I’m sorry,” He stated earnestly.

“So… that’s it, then?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

She leaned forward and observed him, reluctantly posing another question. “Do you… do you love her?”

Did he love her? He asked himself. But he knew the answer. He had known for longer than he would wish to admit.

“Yes, I do,” He confirmed aloud for the first time. He loved Hermione.

Callie nodded almost imperceptibly. In truth, she wasn’t shocked by his affirmation. Sirius had not been himself lately and it did make sense that his distractedness had been the result of his transferred affections. And aside from his obvious sincerity, he was too handsome to be angry with for long.

“Well, then… um… good luck, I guess,” She conceded with a halfhearted smile.

Sirius looked at the door through which Hermione had exited then over to James who had taken Lily’s vacated seat at Remus’ table.

“I think it may be a bit too late for luck,” He said with a bitter laugh. “But thank you, Callie.”

She stood up, wringing the strap of her purse in her hands awkwardly.

“You’re welcome, Sirius. I think I’m going to go… but I’ll see you around?”

“Of course,” Sirius confirmed as he stood too.

Callie reached up on her toes and placed a brief kiss on his cheek.

“Bye,” She finished softly.

Sirius didn’t watch her go. Instead, he sat down again, knowing that it was too late for him and Hermione, regardless of Callie. Silently berating himself for letting James be the man Hermione had fallen in love with, for concealing his feelings for Hermione behind his anger and for being jealous of James, in the first place.

He would have to resign himself to living with the unrequited emotions for however long was necessary. Hermione loved James… and Sirius would not stand in their way. Perhaps, eventually, he would move on, he thought, though he knew that was about as likely as a snowstorm in July.

“Hey, Padfoot,” said Remus’ tranquil voice as he approached Sirius.

Sirius nodded in acknowledgement.

“Why don’t you come join us?” He asked, gesturing to the table in the middle of the room at which Nadine, Peter and James were seated.

“No. It’s alright, Moony, I think I’ll just…” He trailed off, not sure what to do exactly.

Remus shoved his hands in his pockets and glanced around the room.

“Where is Callie?”

“She left,” Sirius answered plainly.

“Left? What happened? Don’t tell me you tried to drag her off to the Shrieking Shack?” Remus smirked at his friend.

Sirius gave Remus a tight-lipped smile.

“No… we broke up, actually.”

Comprehension descended upon Remus’ face.

“What did you say?”

“That there was someone else.”

Remus started to ask, “Is it – ”

“Who else,” Sirius interrupted. They both knew that there was only one person it could be. “It doesn’t matter though. Hermione and James…”

Remus exhaled heavily.

“There is no ‘Hermione and James’, Padfoot.”

“There is,” Sirius insisted. “I heard them. She loves him – ”

“She’s leaving,” Remus interjected.

Having already begun his resignation, Sirius’ thought process was stopped short.

“Wait. What do you mean she’s leaving?”

“That’s what she told James. She said she had to go… somewhere, I don’t know.”

Sirius looked past Remus and saw James watching him from the table.

“But she and James… they’re – ”

“They’re over,” He answered. When Sirius looked as though he would argue, he added, “They’re friends.”

Sirius’ heart began to beat rapidly. She and James weren’t together.

“So, they’re over?” He couldn’t seem to absorb that fact.

From the table across the way, James still remained seated, watching the realization come over Sirius.

“They are over, Padfoot,” Remus repeated. “And now she’s leaving.”

Sirius stood abruptly and began pacing back and forth in front of his friend.

“Where is she going?”

“James doesn’t know. She didn’t really even say goodbye, I guess.”

Sirius stopped pacing. “You mean, she is leaving now?”

“Yes, Padfoot,” Remus nodded solemnly. “And she isn’t leaving… she’s gone.”

“But… I never told her that I… I didn’t apologize for…” He murmured, his thoughts coming to him too quickly to verbalize.

“Then try to catch her before she goes,” Offered another voice.

Sirius looked up. James was standing in front of him.

“James, I – ”

“Just go,” James advised.

Sirius looked between his friends intently. There he stood, perched upon on an uncertain precipice. He knew he could not turn back.

And so he leapt.

He backed away from his friends and strode out of the pub. His feet hit the road and he began running towards the school not knowing what would he would say if he reached her in time or if he was already too late.

His run became a sprint, the pounding of his shoes upon the ground matching the pounding of his heart, beat for beat.

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