It's About Time

A/N: Gosh, I don't know what to say! I am so sorry for leaving this story in fan fiction limbo for so long... I never intended for it to be so long between updates but... what can I say? Real life... it happens sometimes, I suppose. Thank you all for your patience and continued encouragement over the past few months. I hope that you will continue to enjoy this little story of mine.

A special thank you to my beta and friend, AnasellaEmm, for her constant nature and supportive friendship... and for finally getting me back on track with my writing!

Without further ado...

Chapter Eighteen.

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"Hermione?" A voice was speaking to her from far away.

She fought against the pitch blackness.

"She's waking up!" The voice called.

Hermione's eyes opened slowly and she winced against the blinding white light. She could make out a blurry figure above her. Unruly dark hair… glasses…

"J- James…" Hermione muttered, before falling unconscious.

Hermione awoke to the sounds of voices all around her. Though some sounded familiar, she couldn’t immediately identify any of them as they all spoke at once, hushed yet urgent.

She tried to silence them but they murmured on and on causing her temples to throb.

Drawing in a long, deep breath, she gasped as a sharp pain stabbed her chest and her eyes flew open. The involuntary reaction was immediately regretted as she was instantly blinded by bright lights that seemed to radiate down on her and she groaned aloud.

“Call the healer! She’s in pain… something’s wrong!” There was that voice again, a man’s voice. She tried to make out where she had heard it but her head pounded the more she attempted to concentrate.

“Hermione?” A woman’s voice floated down to her ears. Ever so soothingly, the woman asked, “Can you open your eyes again?”

Hermione furrowed her brow and slowly pried her eyelids open again as the voice spoke softly to her. This time she was prepared for the glaring lights and blinked hastily as her eyes slowly adjusted.

Shifting painfully, she gathered she was in a hospital bed; the sterile smell unique only to medical settings was obvious to her senses.

Shadowy figures swarmed about the bright room, their voices still whispering frantically to one another.

Beside her bed was the hazy outline of a female, a halo of light reflecting from her brilliant red hair. Then, the blurry visage that had spoken to her before appeared over her again. She squinted her eyes and tried to bring the face into focus though all she could seem to distinguish was a pair of dark framed glasses… and messy black hair…

‘Could it be?’ She asked herself in confused astonishment. The bleary outline slowly began to take form and Hermione’s dry lips could not help but crack a weak smile.

"James?" She gasped at the familiar face, her throat raw and mouth dry. "J-James. The... the fight. What, how... what happened?" He opened his mouth to speak but paused. Her eyes scanned his face for an answer, the only answer she needed. "Sir... Sirius. Where is he?... Is he alright? I want-"

“Hermione? It’s me, Harry.”

“H – Harry?” Her brow creased in confusion. She tried to recall what had happened before she had blacked out… The last thing she remembered was being in the Great Hall. The Gryffindors were fighting the Slytherins. Sirius had been… he’d been hurt. “But… but how- ?”

“You’re back, Hermione,” Spoke a deeper voice, as a taller man approached her from behind Harry.

James.

Only then did she notice the deliberate differences between the two. Harry’s brilliant green eyes… His mother’s eyes. His slightly smaller nose, his telltale scar…

It was true then. She had come back to her own time..

“No…” Hermione murmured though she knew it could not change anything. Her chocolate brown eyes welled with tears. “I can’t be… I was just there… I –”

“Try to calm down, dear,” The red-headed woman coaxed. The woman Hermione now recognized as Lily, perched on the edge of the bed and stroked Hermione’s forehead in an attempt to soothe her, just as she had done that day by the Great Lake. That was years ago for Lily but only weeks in Hermione’s mind.

Hermione fought against her weakly. She wanted to wake up and find herself safely in Sirius’ arms in her bed…where he had last held her. Pushing against Lily was futile, Hermione had no strength and her body would not obey her commands. She felt her consciousness slipping away again.

“No…” She repeated in a barely audible breath. “Where is - ”

The door to the room swung open and an older woman with gray hair pulled back into a taut bun strode in briskly halting with a start as she discovered the large group of worried visitors crowding the tiny space.

Narrowing her eyes she shook her head discouragingly. She spotted Lily seated beside the patient and raised an eyebrow.

“Healer Potter, I am aware that you are not on duty but I must insist that hospital rules still be heeded. I count six people in this room. Six! Three is the maximum, as you well know!” Her severe tone grew increasingly shrill as she became more and more agitated.

Lily, however, seemed used to this Healer’s behavior and listened with a polite smile until she found a moment to interject politely, yet purposefully.

“Yes, I am aware of the hospital rules, Healer Calhoun,” She said gently. “But it seems that this young lady had a number of friends concerned for her wellbeing.”

The supervising Healer glanced around the room again and sighed. Lily Potter was so highly regarded at St. Mungo’s that not only was it extremely difficult to be upset with her but it was impossible not to become a fast friend and, despite her strict disposition, Judith Calhoun liked Lily very much.

“How long has she been awake?” Healer Calhoun asked, choosing to ignore the surplus bodies surrounding her.

Lily rose from the bed and took Hermione’s hand as she answered. “Only a few moments. She is still fairly disoriented.”

The Healer approached the bed, referencing her clip board and jotting a few brief observations.

Hermione listened to this exchange but closed her eyes once more. They had grown fatigued so quickly. It seemed that she hadn’t used them in ages.

She felt dizzy as though the darkness was orbiting around her or she around it. The fight in the Great Hall still seemed so fresh in her mind and, yet, here she was decades later surrounded by those she thought she had left behind and those who had become a part of her new life in the past.

It was surreal and terrifying, seeing that Lily and James had aged nineteen years while she, as was evident from her own body, was still just seventeen years old.

But most importantly, where was Sirius?

She wanted to open her eyes and see him seated at her side, to feel him stroking her forehead... his wry smile and sparkling grey eyes…

“Very well. I’m afraid I must ask you all to leave while I examine Miss Granger,” ordered the elder witch sternly.

Lily gave Hermione’s hand a squeeze. “I think we have some messages to send. There are quite a few people who will want to hear the good news that you’re awake,” She said with a warm smile.

“Lily, please! Tell me… where is he?” Hermione whispered hoarsely as she gripped Lily’s hand with what little strength she had. “Where is Sirius?”

“Young lady,” The healer said firmly. “You will be able to speak to your visitors later. At the moment, I must insist that I do my job which means, everybody out!”

Hermione silently pleaded with Lily as the elegant redhead withdrew her hand from the weakening grip.

Lily looked back at her, her face lined with regret and hesitation. She paused to respond to the confused young woman but allowed herself to be pulled away when James placed his hand on her back.

Hermione turned her face towards the window, away from the group of what felt like strangers that were filing out of her room. She knew she ought to be happy that these people cared for her but the lump in her throat from restrained sobs was too thick to ignore and she could not hide the tears that had begun streaming down her face. She could not feel happiness nor could she feign happiness. Not without him.

“We’ll be right outside the door if you need us,” Assured Harry as his dad led him too out of the room.

Ron and Ginny rose from chairs near the window. “Mum will be thrilled you’re awake, Hermione,” Ron said with an encouraging tone to his voice.

“Let’s go, everyone,” urged James.

Hermione heard the door swing shut sending a chilly breeze through the room that now felt as empty as it sounded.

Healer Calhoun cleared her throat but Hermione remained turned away, eyes firmly shut to the strange surroundings.

“Sir? I said everyone out, that includes you,” the healer insisted, though she now spoke softly, surrendering the icy edge her voice had held only minutes earlier.

A very low, discouraged growl followed by reluctant footsteps. The heavy reverberations made their way to Hermione’s ears and she turned her head so quickly that her stiff neck sent pain shooting up and down her body. Her eyes sought the source of those footsteps and that nearly silent growl that had been so reminiscent of the only person whose presence she longed for and the only face she wanted to see at that moment.

But there was no one there; just the Healer, a closed door and a silent room.

Several achingly silent moments passed as the healer checked the young woman’s vitals. Touching various points on her arms, forehead and chest with her wand; Healer Calhoun made notations on Hermione’s chart.

The unsettling quiet was broken when a woman, laden with a meal tray and an armful of files, bustled noisily into the room, pushing the door open with her backside.

“Sorry, I’m late, Judy,” The woman apologized, though her rich Cockney accent was cheerful and bright.

“It’s Judith, as I’ve reminded you, and I prefer you call me Healer Calhoun while on duty,” sniffed the superior witch. She turned to Hermione and sighed with a forcibly controlled breath. “Miss Granger, this is Healer Bliss. She’ll be arranging your meals and ensuring your comfort while you remain at St. Mungo’s.”

Healer Bliss deposited the dinner tray onto Hermione’s bedside table and turned to her with an exceedingly enthusiastic air.

“How’d ya do, Miss Granger?!” She reached out and shook Hermione’s limp hand fervently. “Like Judy said, I’m Healer Bliss… but you can call me Beatrice, everyone does.”

“Healer Bliss! Please refrain from manhandling the patients!” Calhoun snapped and gestured to Beatrice’s vigorous handshaking.

“Sorry, Judy!” Healer Bliss said while laying Hermione’s hand back on the bed with the utmost care. Hermione estimated this healer to be in her early forties, she had a heart shaped face with rosy cheeks and very kind brown eyes. She exuded a maternal aura that was reminiscent of Molly Weasley.

Judith Calhoun began to correct the younger woman’s use of the name “Judy” once more but refrained. She managed to hold back from rolling her eyes as she turned to Hermione. “I will be back later with some potions for you. In the meantime, I insist you get some rest.”

Then, sensing Hermione’s unspoken question, she added, “Your guests will be allowed to return after you have eaten and had sufficient sleep.” With one more scathing look toward Healer Bliss, the older woman strode from the room.

Hermione sank back into the bed. She felt so helpless, like a petulant child whose parents were keeping a secret from her ‘for her own good’. She was frustrated and would have insisted on speaking to Lily and James at once but she was growing more exhausted by the second.

Her eyelids began to droop, despite her forcefulness to remain awake, when Healer Bliss’ bouncing voice roused her. “It’s a miracle your vitals are so strong, Miss Granger,” She said encouragingly as she glanced over the patient’s chart. “Quite a miracle considering your nearly catatonic state when you were brought in last month.”

“Last month?” Hermione repeated, not meeting the Healer’s eyes. “I have been here for… a month?”

“Yes, dear! Slept right through Christmas, you did. But look at you now! You must be so happy to be up and surrounded by loved ones, eh?”

Hermione nodded mutely, her eyes fixed on the starched white bed sheets, brow furrowed. An entire month she had been laying in this bed? A month and her entire world had changed. Had she been dreaming the entire time?

She remembered flashes of blue light… she remembered… she remembered things she shouldn’t remember. James and Lily’s wedding… The night Voldemort tried to kill Harry… Peter, not Lily, sacrificing himself to protect his best friend’s son…

“Yes, you are a very lucky girl, dear.”

“Yes… thank you,” Hermione, pulled from her reverie, answered politely, straining to place a smile on her face in appreciation of the Healer’s efforts to cheer her up.

She remembered being introduced to Sirius… and the battle at the Ministry… Bellatrix falling behind the veil. Had she really changed the timeline so much?

Beatrice set the dinner tray before Hermione and chattered on as she arranged the various dishes and utensils.

“Oh yes. I have never seen so many people so anxiously waiting for a single patient before! D’you know, we had to ask nearly fifteen people to leave nearly every night after visiting hours were over?”

“Oh?” Hermione wished the healer would leave her alone to her thoughts. The woman was just trying to help, Hermione knew that, but she was completely emotionally and physically drained as she tried to reconcile the past, present and piece together everything that had changed.

Healer Bliss continued as she fluffed Hermione’s pillow and made a few quick notations on her chart.

“And what visitors too! It has been like the society pages of ‘Witch Weekly’ around here! A regular Who’s Who of the Wizarding World!”

Hermione nodded along, not really listening at all. Her mind was spinning and, above all, she was yearning to see Sirius, to at least get answers to her many questions. Where was he? Was he alright? Why hadn’t he been among her many visitors…

She feared the worst. That fear coupled with her total exhaustion kept her from leaping out of bed and forcing answers out of Lily or James… or anyone who would know something, anything.

Somewhere in the background, Beatrice Bliss rattled on.

“Of course, Lily Potter is a resident Healer here at St. Mungo’s but young Harry has been here every night. Oh yes, he’s so handsome and so brave, that boy! Always here with the Weasleys, the girl and Mister Ronald. They’ve been worried sick about you, Miss.”

Hermione tentatively picked at a dinner roll on the tray before her, now hearing only bits of Healer Bliss’ animated chatter.

“…Even Dumbledore himself was here more than once!... had Minister Shacklebolt assign an auror to full time security duty in this very room… the Head Auror himself… even on Christmas Day, sat right in that corner…”

Hermione’s attention was captured at once. She remembered something else… it seemed part of that dream almost but in it she knew Sirius to be an auror. Could it really have been true…?

“Did you just say an auror was here?” Hermione asked with anticipation.

Healer Bliss stopped suddenly, she had nearly forgotten Hermione was in the room she had been rambling on so. Happy to have a captive audience for the moment, she smiled excitedly.

“Yes! Dumbledore’s orders. He insisted that the Ministry provide you with security detail day and night, and you know what? He demanded that the Head Auror take the case. Never in all my years have I ever seen anyth- ”

“Who – Who is the Head Auror?” Hermione interrupted hastily, her heart thumping wildly. A sudden rush of adrenaline providing her with the energy she had been lacking.

Beatrice’s eyes widened with dramatic flair, “The Head Auror? Why, it’s Mister Bl- ”

“Healer Bliss!” Both the healer’s and Hermione’s heads turned toward the door swiftly as Healer Calhoun’s commanding tone shot at them. “Miss Granger needs her rest. I sincerely hope that you are not keeping her from sleep by burdening her with the latest news from the gossip columns!” She crossed the room and held a vial of lavender fluid in front of Hermione’s face, wordlessly ordering her to drink.

Hermione took the vial and drank it quickly and obediently, eager for a definite answer from Beatrice.

Healer Bliss smiled remorsefully at her supervising Healer and flushed. “No, Judy. I was just… ”

“I’m sure you were,” The elder woman said firmly. “You are excused, Healer Bliss.”

The younger healer smiled comfortingly at Hermione and turned towards the door.

“Wait!” Hermione spoke up quickly before Beatrice left the room. “You didn’t tell me… the Head Auror? Who is it?”

Healer Calhoun placed a firm hand on Hermione’s shoulder to keep her from jumping out of the bed. However, the effects of the Sleeping Draught that she had just swallowed were strong and Hermione felt the tension and energy flooding out of her body rapidly.

Beatrice smiled gently at her patient. “It’s Mister Black. Sirius Black is the Head Auror.” With a final nod, she turned and left the room.

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Thoughts??

This re-intro to the present was brief, I know, but trust me... there is a lot still to say. Plan on the rest of the chapters being much longer!