It's About Time

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of JK Rowling's amazing characters. I am merely borrowing them.

As always, thank you to my Beta, AnasellaEmm, for our late night writing fests and her encouragement.

Chapter Twenty.
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Sirius came crashing through the door of Grimmauld Place and slammed it shut behind him with such intensity, the portraits on the walls stirred and cursed him for awakening them.

James would certainly be barging in any moment. After Sirius had left the hospital without a word to Hermione, he knew James would have a few choice words for him.

He knew what he had done was wrong. More than wrong, it was malicious.

He’d known all along that he would have to face her eventually, but having guarded her around the clock for an entire month, he had almost been content to leave her in the unconscious state. At least that way he wouldn’t ever have to face what he knew would inevitably come.

She would remember, he thought bitterly.

Throwing his coat onto the stairs as he walked through the semi-darkness, he continued along the corridor, catching his ragged reflection in the hallway mirror. He stopped and glared at his pitiful self.

“Fool,” He swore at the pained face that stared back at him.

He recalled when Hermione would come to his home with Harry, he would sometimes watch her at meals. Just watch, and revel in her brilliant mind and her fierce loyalty to Harry. He was proud of the girl she was. A girl who looked at him, with passing glances, as no more than her best friend’s godfather.

But all the time he waited with unease. Waited for the day she would disappear without a trace. And he waited for the day she would return.

And just as he had feared, the moment their eyes met in the dim corridor of Saint Mungo’s only moments earlier, he could see that she remembered.

He finally saw the recognition in her eyes, the recognition he had both dreaded and hoped for, the acknowledgement that she knew all that had been between them and what they had once meant to one another.

After so many years, he could read in the depths of her chocolate eyes that she remembered. She wanted him.

The front door slammed open behind him and he instantly pushed away from the mirror, whirling around to see his best friends bursting into the house.

“What in the hell has gotten into you?!” James shouted as he marched in, Remus fast at his heels. “How could you say that to Hermione just now?”

Sirius turned and strode furiously down the corridor, ignoring his friend’s comments.

“I don’t know what has gotten into you ever since Hermione’s been back but this isn’t you, Padfoot. You aren’t a cruel person, but here you are, treating the woman you lov – ”

“Don’t!” Sirius shot the warning over his shoulder as he stormed down the stairs into the kitchen.

“So, you are just going to ignore her forever?” James demanded. “She is your godson’s best friend; you won’t be able to avoid seeing her.”

Sirius swung open a cupboard and pulled out a bottle of firewhiskey that he slammed onto the counter. Pouring himself a liberal glassful, he downed the golden-brown liquid in one shot.

“You can’t ignore her, Sirius,” Remus spoke in quieter tone. “What do you intend to do about it?”

Sirius emptied another glass of firewhiskey down his throat and poured a third. “I got over her once. I can do it again.”

“Did you, Padfoot? Did you really get over her?”

“Don’t patronize me, Remus,” Sirius growled, brushing past the two men forcefully. “Of course I got over her. It’s been over twenty years for god’s sake.”

He sat down roughly at the long wooden dining table, gripping the glass of whiskey in his hand.

James and Remus sat down across from him.

“Why are you really doing this, Padfoot?” Remus asked. “You’ve always been perfectly decent to Hermione since she and Harry became friends. I am aware it was, by no means, easy for you but you’ve never been outright cruel to her.”

Sirius sighed and took a long swallow from his glass. “I’m done talking about her.”

“You haven’t even said anything!” James argued.

Remus held up a hand to calm James before turning to Sirius, “How can you be so indifferent, Sirius? What has she done that is so terrible?”

Sirius laughed bitterly. “She stayed exactly the same. I grew twenty-two years older and she stayed exactly the same.”

“That’s the problem? You think you’re too old?!” James asked incredulously.

Sirius shook his head and stared down into his glass as he swirled its contents mindlessly.

James narrowed his eyes, barely controlling his own anger. “You’re so vain about having aged that you think it’s within your rights to treat an innocent girl like a criminal? Harry doesn’t take issue with it, why should you?”

Sirius’ head snapped up instantly. “Harry?! How the hell does Harry know about Hermione and –”

“We told him this afternoon,” Remus interrupted with his usual even tone. Sirius began to argue back but Remus continued on intently, “He apparently overheard Lily and Nymphadora speaking about Hermione. He was rather upset at first and, understandably, had many questions. We had no choice but to tell him.”

“No choice?” Sirius rose from his seat, hands planted firmly on the table before him. He seethed through bared teeth, “Of course you had a choice. You chose to tell him something that you had no right to tell!”

“You would rather we lie to him, Sirius?” Remus asked.

“Better that than dredging up the past.”

“We can’t be responsible for dredging up a past that you never managed to bury in the first place!” James shot back. “And I refuse to lie to my son for you. I have never lied to Harry and I won’t start now!”

James slammed his fist on the wooden table, punctuating his statement.

The three friends sat in silence for a long time, not moving, not looking at one another. Sirius finished the remainder of his whiskey, and crossed the kitchen to pour himself another drink. He paused with his hand on the bottle and exhaled heavily.

With his back to his friends, he spoke in a low voice, “What did Harry say… when you told him?”

Remus and James exchanged a brief look of hesitation.

“He was upset,” James said honestly, apologetic after his outburst. “He was upset that we had hid this information from him. He felt that he had been betrayed.”

“By me?”

“By all of us. When she disappeared, it was hard enough for him to accept that she had gone back in time. Now this. He was… angry. He is angry.”

Remus spoke up then, “But we explained to him what happened in the past. We told him that you and Hermione had a very deep connection and how difficult it was for you when she left.”

“He understood after that, Padfoot. He did,” James added. “He’s angry at me, not you. He only wants what is best for you. And for Hermione.”

“What is best for her is for me to stay away then.”

“But she lov-”

“She’s too young to know what she wants!!” Sirius shouted. His voice broke off with restrained emotion.

“You know that isn’t true,” Remus reasoned. “If anyone is capable of making a mature, adult decision, it is Hermione. She is of age and she knows what is best for her.”

“She is seventeen years old! With an entire, goddamned lifetime ahead of her… and I’m – I’m… well, look at me. She’ll move on. Find someone younger. Someone better for her.”

For the first time, Remus’ tone showed warning signs of anger. He stood bracing himself on the table, “Dammit, Sirius. I know we can only imagine what it must have been like for you all these years, but she is here now and she deserves a chance. It wasn’t her fault that she left. You can’t blame her forever!”

“What the hell do you want from me!?” Sirius strode across the kitchen furiously to face James and Remus, glaring determinedly at each in turn. “I helped to raise your son, James. I treated him as my own flesh and blood and never failed to be there for him when you and Lily couldn’t be. Remus, I have spent my entire professional life fighting against the Werewolf Discrimination Laws so you could make a better life for yourself. Not once have I ever asked a thing of either of you. So. Just. Leave. It. Alright? Just leave it.”

James stood and met Sirius’ severe gaze head on.

“Is that really what you want, Padfoot?” He posed seriously.

Sirius turned away from his friends, his shoulders sagged and he closed his eyes. He was tired. The stance and expression bore the telltale signs of defeat.

“Yes.”

James and Remus glanced at each other. James shrugged, frustrated at his friend’s obstinacy. Remus nodded and looked concernedly at Sirius, who remained adamantly turned away. They offered their goodbyes to a mute Sirius before they departed.

Once he was alone again, Sirius turned back to the empty room. He began to pour himself another glass of firewhiskey but stopped. It wouldn’t help. It never did.

He may have been able to lie to James and Remus, but nothing, not all the firewhiskey in England, could have made him numb to the sensation of seeing Hermione look at him that way again.
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It was just after dawn the next morning when an eruption of green flames from the Potter’s hearth announced the arrival of Ron and Ginny.

Ron stepped out of the fireplace behind his sister and stretched his long arms above his head, emitting a dramatic yawn.

“Bloody hell, it’s early,” He mumbled, dropping his duffel bag on the hearth rug and collapsing into an overstuffed chair.

“Good morning, Ron,” Lily greeted the sluggish young man as she walked into the drawing room. “I thought I heard you arrive.”

He jumped to his feet immediately. “’Morning,” He answered sheepishly, reddening slightly with embarrassment at being caught cursing by Harry’s mum.

“Harry is just sitting down to breakfast. Why don’t you go on into the kitchen and help yourself to something?”

Ron did not need another word of encouragement. He was halfway to the kitchen before Lily had finished her sentence.

She smiled softly over at Ginny who rolled her eyes.

“He’s already eaten, of course. Mum never lets anyone leave the house without being thoroughly fed.”

“Oh, I’m well aware,” Lily said before welcoming the young girl. “Good morning, dear.”

“Morning, Mrs. Potter. What time is Remus coming with the portkey?”

“He should be here in about ten minutes. He wanted to make sure Nymphadora had everything ready to catch the train to Hogwarts this afternoon.”

Ginny cocked her head in question. “Why can’t Tonks just come with us now?”

“It isn’t advisable for pregnant women to travel by portkey seeing as one can never guarantee a smooth landing. She’ll be taking the Hogwarts Express later today, I’ll be bringing her to King’s Cross in a few hours.”

“I’m sure Remus is anxious to get back to school, especially since Professor Snape has been teaching his Defense Against the Dark Arts classes for the past week.”

“Yes, I’m sure he is,” Lily smirked.

Ginny glanced at the clock and saw that they still had a few minutes before Remus would be arriving. She made herself comfortable on the loveseat near the fireplace and turned to Lily.

“Mrs. Potter, do you know how soon Hermione will be able to return to school?”

Lily raised her eyebrows slightly and pursed her lips in thought. “That’s up to Hermione, really. She still has to get a bit stronger before she’ll be fit to leave the hospital and then, if she decides to go back, she’ll be under Madam Pomfrey’s care – ”

“If? If she decides to go back?”

The older woman sighed. “There is a chance Hermione may not want to return to Hogwarts. She has been through quite a trial and it may be best for her to focus on getting herself healthy again rather than worry about school.”

“It’s because of Sirius, isn’t it?” Ginny asked with concern.

Lily started. “Did Harry tell you…?”

Ginny shook her head. “He didn’t have to. It was clear that there was something more going on than we were being told. Hermione kept asking for him when she woke up. Then, I saw the way Sirius was looking at her but he wouldn’t come close enough for her to notice him. It didn’t make sense at the time.”

“Um… yes, I believe the situation between she and Sirius will be extremely difficult for Hermione to overcome. She is already very fragile right now and the added emotional stress will not help the circumstances.”

“Mum is worried sick about her. She is worried about both of them, really,” Ginny added.

“’Morning, Gin,” Harry said as he entered the room. Ron followed just a few steps behind, chewing a mouthful of toast.

“Hi Harry.” Ginny stood and smiled up at him.

He wrapped her in a warm hug and dropped a chaste kiss on her forehead, aware that his mother was present.

“Did you get enough to eat, sweetheart?” Lily asked her son.

“Yes, Mum,” He answered shortly.

Lily sighed, “Harry, please don’t leave angry. We didn’t think it was our place to tell you about what happened in the past.”

Ginny nodded to Ron and the two of them walked silently from the room to give Lily and Harry some privacy.

“I understand that,” Harry said resentfully. “But I don’t agree. Did you think I wasn’t grown-up enough to handle it?”

Lily moved to stand before her son and placed her hands on his shoulders, momentarily awe-struck at how tall he seemed to have become all of a sudden and how grown-up he now was. She looked up into his green eyes that could be mirrored reflections of her own.

“Harry, you have overcome so many tremendous obstacles for someone so young. Neither your father nor I have ever doubted your maturity. Merlin knows you’ve had to grow up too quickly as is. We have never lied to you, Harry. Neither has Sirius. Yes, we kept this secret from you but we, honestly, thought it would be best coming from him. He just was not willing to talk about it yet.”

Harry looked at his mother and read the sincerity shining in her eyes.

“I know, Mum. I know,” He sighed. “I’m sorry.”

She embraced her son. “Don’t be upset with your father either, dear.”

“I’m not.”

The doorbell chimed and reverberated through the house. Remus appeared at the drawing room door having shown himself in.

“Good morning,” He acknowledged them tiredly. The full moon was nearing and, in addition, he had been late getting home from Grimmauld Place the previous night, after he and James had unsuccessfully tried to reason with Sirius. “Ready to go?”

“Yes,” Harry nodded, reaching down to pick up his travel bag.

Ron and Ginny came through the door behind Remus and greeted him as they passed.

“We have just less than one minute before the portkey is activated,” Remus informed them as he set a broken flower pot on the table before him.

Harry turned to his mother and gave her a quick hug. “Please tell Hermione that I will try to get permission to come see her next weekend.”

“It’s about time to go” Remus announced. “Touch the portkey, you three.”

Harry placed a finger on the flower pot and turned back to his mum quickly. “And tell dad that… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, son,” James said earnestly from the doorway where he had appeared just in time to hear Harry’s apology. “Don’t give it a second thought.”

Father and son shared the briefest of smiles before the portkey whirled Harry away.
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“Miss Granger? Are you awake, dear?”

Healer Bliss’ loud whisper brought Hermione out of the haze she had fallen into since seeing Sirius the night before. The healer stepped quietly through the door, the still afternoon air in the sterile room was stale. The room’s only occupant had refused to have any of the windows opened to the fresh air that day.

“You have a visitor! Are you awake?”

Hermione’s ears pricked and she sat up quickly, her heart beating wildly. “Visitor? Who- who is it?”

Healer Bliss’ face melted into a sympathetic smile. “It’s Albus Dumbledore, dear. Quite exciting, yes?”

Hermione sank slowly back against her pillows and nodded. “Yes… of course. Very exciting.”

The healer offered Hermione an apologetic look once more before she turned out of the room. She knew, as did every other employee at ’s, that Albus Dumbledore was not the visitor for whom Hermione Granger had been waiting.

Outside in the hallway, she nodded to Dumbledore who thanked her before stepping into the hospital room.

“Good morning, Miss Granger,” Dumbledore greeted as he approached the bed. “You are looking quite well.”

“Thank you, sir,” Hermione smiled weakly, mustering all her strength not to appear as devastatingly disappointed as she was.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m well, thank you.”

Dumbledore scrutinized her with his crystal blue eyes before speaking again. “You will be pleased to know that you will be able to leave the hospital very soon. The healers are all very impressed with your progress.”

Hermione nodded and looked down at her hands in her lap.

“All of Gryffindor will be eager to welcome you back.”

She hesitated. “Professor Dumbledore?”

“Yes, Miss Granger?”

“What if – if I decide I don’t want to return to Hogwarts… what happens then?” She asked softly.

“Ah,” Dumbledore replied knowingly. Withdrawing his wand, he conjured a squashy arm chair, settling himself comfortably. There was a long moment as he allowed himself to observe the young woman, his chin resting on steepled fingers. “Should you not return to Hogwarts, I suppose your life will take a rather different path than the one you had planned, will it not?”

“Yes, I suppose it will.”

“Have you given any thought to your future if you do decide to leave Hogwarts?” He asked as casually as if he were inquiring about the score of a Quidditch match.

“Some,” She answered truthfully. “Not very much.”

“Molly Weasley has informed me that you respectfully declined her invitation to stay at the Burrow. Am I to assume that you intend to take your leave from the Wizarding World altogether?”

Hermione averted her gaze, she opened her mouth to speak but nodded silently instead. She found herself suddenly overcome with shame having admitted her intentions to Dumbledore. “I- I think I might go to stay with my mum and dad for a while.”

“Of course you must do what you feel is best, Miss Granger, though I will not attempt to deny that the Wizarding World will mourn the loss of one of its brightest young witches.”

Hermione laughed sardonically to herself. “I’m afraid you’ve overestimated me, Headmaster. I’ve done nothing to earn the Wizarding World’s esteem.”

Dumbledore leaned back slightly and raised his eyebrows only a fraction but his surprise was evident. “You don’t believe your accomplishments are worthy of praise, Miss Granger?”

“No, Sir. I don’t,” Her voice grew stronger with the brutal honesty behind her words. “Everything I am believed to have achieved are Harry’s accolades and not my own. Anyone could have done what I did.”

The pale blue eyes of the Headmaster twinkled with interest and, Hermione noted, amusement. “I am certain that Misters Potter and Weasley will disagree with you as will many others who have been impacted by the good you have done.”

Hermione shook her head, tears beginning to threaten, burning behind her eyes. “Good?! What good have I done?? I had a golden opportunity to change terrible things from happening… I ended up in the past where I could have made a difference. But I did nothing. Neville’s parents still ended up being tortured into madness by Bellatrix Lestrange! Peter and Nadine were both killed by Voldemort when they had nothing but the best intentions! For goodness sake, Voldemort is still alive! And it’s just... all my fault.”

Dumbledore sighed. “Miss Granger, it may seem to you that nothing was accomplished by your visit to the past but you are mistaken. I am aware of the drastically different course history may have taken had you not come to us when you had. Can you not think of one thing that you may have changed for the better?”

Her shoulders sagged in defeat. “James and Lily. But I didn’t save them, please, don’t ever credit me with their lives because it was Peter’s loyalty and their many friends who came to their defense.”

“But you set into motion the series of events that changed their destiny, Miss Granger. Just because this is the only present I know, does not mean that I am not able to comprehend the way it must have been in your time.”

The bed creaked as Hermione shifted her weight to turn and face Dumbledore. “I’m sorry, sir. I mean no disrespect.”

The older man smiled gently at the agonized girl. “There was something else you wanted to ask me?”

Hermione’s eyes widened in surprise and she blinked rapidly. There was indeed something she had been yearning to ask. How Dumbledore could have known what she wanted to know was beyond her.

“Yes, Professor. I am so sorry to trouble you with this but I was curious how he, I mean, Sirius… how has he – ”

“Sirius has led a very fulfilling life,” Dumbledore said meaningfully.

Hermione relaxed somewhat as she absorbed that knowledge. “He has.”

“Oh yes, Miss Granger. Sirius Black has spent his years protecting the Wizarding World and has loved Harry like his own son.”

Hermione smiled sadly and her eyes welled with tears. The reassurance that Sirius had managed to live a happy life helped her accept that maybe she had done enough when she was in the past, enough to give him the life he deserved.

“I just wondered, sir,” Hermione attempted to sound comforted. “He hasn’t been to see me so…”

The serenity that always surrounded Albus Dumbledore never waivered, he spoke to Hermione as calmly confident as ever. “He did not leave this room once until you awoke from your unconscious state.”

“I do not mean to argue, Headmaster, but he was only here because you ordered him to be here, as a guard,” Hermione’s heart ached to hear those words aloud.

“Ah, but Miss Granger, it is Sirius who gives the orders. He is Head Auror. I am merely Headmaster of Hogwarts. I have no authority over him. If Sirius had not wanted to be here, he would not have been.”

Hermione was staggered.

She stared at Dumbledore with pleading eyes, wordlessly begging him to promise her that he meant what he said. She knew well enough that Dumbledore would never say anything to merely placate her. However, his words when combined with Sirius’ behavior the previous day were too incongruent to comprehend.

Dumbledore’s enlightenment was reassuring but she had also never been more confused.

Outside the window, the sunlight was beginning to fade. Hermione’s eyes traced the lengthening shadows the light cast across the room. With no more than a whisper, she said more to herself than to Dumbledore, “I don’t know if things in this time will ever make sense to me again.”

The Headmaster rose to his feet slowly, the conjured chair disappearing behind him instantly. He gazed down at Hermione over his half-moon glasses, his eyes twinkled again, but whether it was the light or his all-knowing self-assurance, she couldn’t be sure.

“I have a feeling they will, Miss Granger. I have a feeling they will.”

With a nod, Albus Dumbledore turned and left the room, leaving Hermione to contemplate her uncertain future.
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A/N: If you have a chance to let me know what you think, please do! Thank you for reading!