It's About Time

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor any of JK Rowling’s wonderful characters. I am merely borrowing them.

A/N: I would like to sincerely thank my beta, Countess of Abe, for her tireless dedication to helping me write despite the two hour time difference between us.

To all the readers out there, as always, your patience with me is so much appreciated. This year has not been an easy one for me and coming home to notes of encouragement and thanks from the amazing readers who have found this story gave me the strength to keep writing and to keep a smile on my face. To each of you, thank you.

Chapter Twenty-Two.

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Hermione all but skipped down to the Great Hall from the Gryffindor common room. The Hogwarts corridors were abuzz with chattering students on their way to breakfast, and Hermione was bursting with exhilaration to be among them. This morning was the start of her first day back at Hogwarts. Visions of potions and ancient runes swirled in her head; she absolutely could not wait to get to class.

Approaching the large threshold of the Great Hall, she noticed with a swell of happiness and comfort that it was just as it had always been, in her own time and in the past. It seemed years since she had last been here though it was only seven weeks earlier that she had been in this very room in the midst of the battle during which she’d been sent back to her own time.

Of their own accord, her eyes travelled upward to the very spot where Sirius’ body had been suspended in air before he fell to the ground, the last time she had seen him as a young man. A chill rushed down her spine.

The memories began to cascade in reverse through her mind before she could stop them. Sirius falling to the ground. Him protecting her throughout the battle. Hermione and Sirius, a fusion of bodies and passion, enveloped in one another’s arms. A stolen kiss beneath a tree on a cool night…

A herd of chattering Hufflepuff girls hastened past her, and she was jostled to the side of the doorway, pulled from the past and thrust back into the moment. Hermione sucked in a sharp breath and blinked, opening her eyes to the activity all around her in the Great Hall.

“Hermione! Over here!”

Hearing Harry’s voice, Hermione scanned the room for her friends. Harry stood up from his place at the Gryffindor table beside Ginny and called her again. Hermione waved to them and with one last wary glance toward the ceiling, she shook her head to forcibly remove the image of Sirius from her mind. ‘No, Hermione. No,’ she reminded herself again that there could be no thinking of him.

She sucked in a shaky breath and walked over to the group, taking the seat across from Harry, beside Ron. The familiar setting relaxed her, and she allowed a smile to spread across her face. The thrill of being back at Hogwarts began to creep over her once more.

Ron yawned loudly and passed Hermione a pitcher of pumpkin juice.

“No, thank you, Ron. I honestly think I’m too anxious to have breakfast this morning.”

Ron looked back at her with perplexity. “What’s with you?”

Hermione straightened and sniffed lightly. “Not all of us take the gift of a good education for granted, Ronald.” Despite her tone, she nearly laughed aloud at the almost déjà vu scenario. How many times had she and Ron have this very conversation?

“It is really wonderful to have you back, Hermione,” Ginny smiled from across the table. “We’ve missed you.”

“We all thought you had decided to live amongst muggles forever!” Ron snorted. “Can you imagine?”

Hermione ignored him. “I have missed Hogwarts more than I thought possible. I can’t wait to get to class and catch up on all that I’ve missed.”

Harry chuckled. “I’m fairly sure there isn’t anything our professors will teach that you don’t already know.” He leaned forward and placed his hand over hers on the table. In a quieter tone, he said, “It is great to see you. We were all a bit worried…”

“Nonsense,” Hermione waved the comment away with her hand. “I just needed some time to get my strength back as the Healers ordered.”

Harry and Ginny exchanged a momentary look of worry.

“If there is anything you ever need to talk about, you know I’m here for you. We are all here for you.”

Hermione shot him a disparaging look. “I can’t imagine what you mean, Harry, but I’m sure I’ll be quite alright.” She glanced at the giant grandfather clock on the far side of the Hall. “We have Transfiguration first thing. We had better go if we don’t want to be late.”

She stood and swung her bag over her shoulder, fussing unnecessarily with her robe.

“Hermione,” Harry said from beside her in a voice barely more than a whisper. “I know this is going to be a difficult transition for you. Just let me know if you want to talk about Siri – ”

The name froze in Harry’s throat when he saw the expression on Hermione’s face. She turned on him with a defiant stare … but it was the look in her eyes that silenced him. Beyond the mask of a glare, her eyes were vulnerable and wounded, exuding tremendous pain and a sadness that in all of his years, Harry Potter had only ever seen once before… in the eyes of his godfather when he’d first been introduced to a fourteen year-old Hermione Granger.

“Um…” Harry fought to think of something to comfort her. “Hermione, I – ”

Hermione blinked and turned away. “We’re going to be late if we don’t hurry.” Without another word, she began striding out of the Great Hall and off to the fourth floor classroom.

A concerned Harry, Ron, and Ginny hurried to follow in her wake.

When she looked back at Harry at the door of the classroom, he was surprised to find that the pained expression was gone completely. In its place, a confident air and a stoic façade, the mask that Hermione Granger would plaster upon her face from that moment on.

And so it was that the days and months slipped by.

Receiving top mark after top mark, Hermione never wavered in her determination to be the finest student ever to pass through the great halls of Hogwarts School. Not only that, but she seemed bound and determined to maintain the pretense that Sirius Black meant absolutely nothing to her, better yet, to steadfastly deny his existence.

Harry was worried. Through correspondence with his parents he had learned that Hermione had been to see Sirius briefly and that, whatever had transpired, resulted in her decision to return to Hogwarts to complete her seventh year. His letters to Sirius were always answered in a timely manner yet any questions he asked his Godfather about Hermione were conveniently ignored.

Speaking to Hermione about the issue was as productive as asking the Whomping Willow for help with his Ancient Runes homework… though he would likely get more of a reaction out of the Willow. Hermione, on the other hand, would sit in complete silence until the subject was changed or act as though she had not a clue as to what he was talking about. It was maddening.

The only solace Harry could find was in visiting Remus and Tonks in their rooms at Hogwarts. Though Remus had made the decision to cease in his interrogation of Sirius on the topic and could, therefore, not shed any light on the situation, he attempted to provide insight for Harry as to what his best friend and his Godfather were going through.

On many evenings, Remus tried explaining to Harry what had happened between Hermione and Sirius though, as Sirius had more often than not flat-out refused to speak of her for the past twenty-two years, there was not much he could say. He did, however, share how much Sirius had suffered when Hermione left and how he was reacting now that he had to face her all over again.

As comforting as it was for Harry to have someone who could provide him with some, if little, information, he wondered if it truly mattered at all when he still was so powerless to help.

Then there was Hermione. Hermione who was quick to answer every question posed in class, Hermione who dutifully studied her evenings away in the library, and Hermione who knew absolutely everything, it seemed. Hermione who laughed along with her friends in the common room and cheered at Quidditch matches.

And Hermione who, every night, crawled into her bed in the darkness of the girls’ dormitory and would finally let her perfect masquerade crumble away; Hermione who lay awake at night wishing that every corner of that damned castle did not carry so many memories, precious memories of Sirius.

His ghost was inescapable, unavoidable, and heart-wrenchingly overwhelming.


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A lone figure in a long black cloak strode determinedly from room to room in a darkened house, made even darker by the thick gray clouds that settled low over the city blacking out even the faintest trace of moonlight. He moved quickly and purposefully, striding from a bedroom where he had grabbed a few expensive-looking men’s shirts, the man threw open the door of a study. He had only minutes before he’d have to disappear and there was still one crucial item he needed.

Crossing the room, he made quick work of clearing the desk by snatching a number of small, yet intricate objects and a dark brown leather portfolio marked: CONFIDENTIAL. Upon seizing this final item, the man’s urgent pace slowed for the first time. He untied the cords that bound the portfolio and opened it, revealing dozens upon dozens of lose sheets of parchment, all covered with their owner’s scrawled handwriting. His eyes quickly scanned the first few slips of parchment, a grim determination set upon his face.

A sudden knock on the door of Grimmauld Place was so deafening a contrast against the tomb-like silence within, the walls seemed to shake in their very foundation. The man snapped to attention and, in a heartbeat, resumed his previous haste.

The parchment was unceremoniously shoved back into the folder and each of the captured items was hurriedly stuffed into a faded canvas satchel that the man, moving with remarkable ease around the furniture in the darkness, minimized into a pouch no larger than his palm. Coursing towards the staircase, he leapt three steps at a time as he descended the stairs, shoving the pouch into the pocket of his cloak with one hand as he withdrew his wand with the other.

The visitor outside pounded on the door impatiently. “Sirius! Open the door!”

Sirius paused on the final step, the old wooden planks of the staircase creaked beneath his feet. “James,” He mumbled to himself.

“SIRIUS!”

Charging towards the door, Sirius growled low in his throat as he tore open the door, hissing at James immediately, “Will you shut up, James!? It may strike the neighbors as odd if they see a crazed man on the street at midnight shouting at a wall.”

James barged into the corridor past Sirius, his cursing cutting off his friend’s argument. “Bloody unbelievable! I cannot believe you are actually doing this. You’ve gone mad, have you?”

Sirius shoved the door shut behind him as he marched back up the corridor. “I have a portkey leaving in two minutes, James.”

“Sirius, this is a suicide mission. You are HEAD Auror. I can name fifteen other Aurors who you ought to be sending in your place. Of those fifteen, five are better skilled for such a mission, ten are far more eager for such an assignment, and ALL, every last one of them, are younger than you.”

“AND every last one of them has a family at home. I’m the only one without a family… it is only fair that I be the one to go.” Sirius answered stoically, sounding every bit the professional he was.

But James wasn’t fooled by Sirius’ Ministry façade. In fact, he was infuriated by it. “So that’s it, then? You’re miserable because your personal life hasn’t panned out properly, so you feel it’s ‘only fair’ that you martyr yourself for your job?”

Sirius ground his teeth and glared into the darkness of his empty home.

James sighed and went on, “Merlin, Sirius. I’m your best friend. If anyone understands the need for a bit of recklessness, it’s me. But for you to volunteer for a mission that is sure to land you on the business end of a Death Eater’s wand, well, you’re just completely bloody insane. I realize you don’t have a family in the sense that you mean it but think of the family you do have. You are like a brother to me and Remus. Think of Harry… you are practically his second father.”

Sirius said nothing but squared his shoulders and shifted his eyes to avoid James’.

James shook his head and laughed cynically. “You have no idea what you’re doing, do you? I can’t imagine that you’re aware of what you’ll be putting everyone through when you go on this senseless mission but do you even care?” James stared incredulously at his best friend of over twenty years like he was a stranger.

“God, you sound like Remus, you know that?” Sirius finally spoke, though gruffly, and shifted his weight impatiently. “Besides, you should understand better than anyone… you’re an auror, for bloody sake! We took an oath to ‘protect the Wizarding world from imminent danger’.” Sirius mockingly recited the Auror Oath verbatim.

“Of course, I understand that, Sirius. But I also know perfectly well that the Auror oath has nothing to do with this decision.”

Sirius released his clenched fists at his sides.

“Admit it,” James continued.

Sirius pursed his lips and nodded once. “Very well. I admit it.”

“Alright. Let’s contact the Ministry to have the mission reassigned so- ”

“- I’m still going, James.”

“What? You just admitted that you weren’t actually going because of that ‘auror duty’ bollocks.”

“And yet, I’m still going, James! Think! You, Remus, Lily, Harry…. Yes, you are all my family but it- it’s not enough to stay. Not enough of a reason to put others in danger!”

James just gaped at his friend.

“The portkey will leave without me,” Sirius snapped impatiently.

Nodding in resignation, James sighed. “So this is it, then.”

Sirius didn’t want to leave with bad blood between him and James. Trying to lighten the mood, he forced a smile, “Don’t say that, eh. I’ve gotten myself through worse, mate.”

James, however, failed to find the humor in the situation. “There is nothing heroic about choosing danger when you have nothing to lose. Forgive me for sounding like Remus but, as he isn’t here to say it himself, it falls on me to be the sensible one.”

The corner of Sirius’ mouth twitched upward. “You don’t sound like Remus. You sound like – ”

“-Hermione?” James smirked despite himself.

“Right… well,” Sirius glanced around the corridor a bit awkwardly. “Um, keep an eye on the place here, would you? I don’t trust Kreacher to do much while I’m gone aside from prostrating in front of my mother’s portrait.”

James grinned sadly and clasped Sirius’ shoulder for a brief moment. “Take care of yourself, Padfoot.”

Sirius looked directly at James and nodded before turning toward the door. But before he could depart James spoke again, Sirius paused in the doorway, his hand resting on the doorknob.

“I’ll tell Harry you’ll see him at graduation. So you’d best be there to congratulate him.”

Understanding what James was implying, Sirius offered a small smile. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”


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Hermione stared up into Sirius’ weary face. Her yearning was clearly exposed. He could read in her eyes the depths of her longing.

“Sirius…”

As the whisper escaped her lips, Sirius lost all rational thought. He lost himself.

He reached for her blindly and crushed his lips to hers. His every sense was afire as he secured her firmly against his body.

He was overwhelmed; the scent, the taste, the feel of her… there was no thought in his mind of who they were or who they had been. The overpowering emotion forced every last thought from his mind overruling his consciousness.

Like he never had before, he disappeared into her. Touching her hair, cupping her face, drinking her in, over and over again.

Hermione kissed him back hungrily. She touched her hands to his chest. She clung to him, clutching the front of his shirt in tight fists. Her petit frame trembled against his body.

Sirius jolted awake with a start. He twisted his head swiftly to each side, his adept canine eyes piercing the darkness. It took him a moment to recognize his surroundings before realizing, with a pang of anguish, that it had been a dream. Again. After nearly five weeks in these bleak and isolated mountains, he was still unable to escape the torment that Hermione Granger had inflicted upon him for twenty-two years.

He pushed against the drought-hardened earth upon which he’d made his bed and raised into a sitting position. His muscles screamed in agony at the movement. Part of him wished to go back to sleep in hopes that Hermione would again appear to him, as she had each night of the five weeks he had been on look out. But the greater part of him wished he would never again sleep and fall victim to his unconscious mind.

The dull roar in his stomach alerted him to his hunger. It had been over a day since he’d last eaten, he realized. Reaching into his cloak for his wand, he rose to his feet, feeling every ache one might acquire after over a month of sleeping on a stone surface. Considering what he might find for food, he stretched broadly.

A rustling to his left caused Sirius to freeze in perfect stillness, ears poised to hear any approaching danger. Without a sound, he transformed into his animagus form and crouched low. If someone were to come upon him, he could not risk being recognized.

The shrub shook wildly as its inhabitant moved more closely to the small clearing in which Sirius had built his sparse camp. From the corner of his eye, he saw something dart from the shrub beside him and cross the clearing in haste before disappearing into a crack in the boulders that formed the base of the mountain.

A wildcat. Sirius, in his Padfoot form, exhaled heavily in relief.

All these weeks in the mountains in Northern Italy and the stressful conditions of the stake-out mission had, seemingly, frayed his nerves a bit.

When he first learned that his sworn enemy from back at Hogwarts, Damien McNair, had begun rallying followers in Central Europe, he was eager to see justice served once and for all with the life-long death eater. Just before departing on the mission, however, the Ministry learned the gravity of McNair’s actions and the devastation that would surely ensue if this man was not stopped.

And after arriving in Italy and making camp near McNair’s family estate in Bologna, Sirius found, to his revulsion, that McNair had not just recruited a few Death Eaters… he had begun the makings of an army of Voldemort followers and was training them as well. More horrific still was that they were not conducting this training behind the walls of safe or private facility.

No, Damien McNair was sending the fresh Death Eaters to practice their unforgivable curses on the innocent locals of the Northern Italian city.

Sirius had been waiting with the patience of a child, until he had a clear move into the compound to capture McNair. He’d been able to cast protective charms around most of the homes in the area but until he could get to McNair himself, there was not much he could do without alerting McNair to the fact that the Ministry had found them out.

Padfoot glanced down the mountainside into the valley where McNair’s estate was located. Lights were visible within and shadows could be seen moving about inside. Sirius decided he would find dinner for himself before descending into the valley to conduct his nightly perimeter check of the estate.

Sauntering into the nearby brush, he lifted his nose and sniffed the night air. Strangely, he was sure he smelled fresh meat … rabbit, perhaps. His hunger was getting the best of him. It wasn’t wise to wait such long stretches of time between meals, he knew, but his devotion to his missions was near obsession and he always found it next to impossible to break for food.

With increased swiftness over the rocky terrain as a canine, Sirius moved invisibly through the bushes in the dark, following the scent of his next meal.

Instantly, a voice stopped him dead in his tracks, at once recognizing the speaker, Sirius’ blood coursed ice cold through his body.

“Casualties are part of this fight, De Luca.” McNair’s remorseless voice was unmistakable as he spoke to a younger man in dark robes. Padfoot sank low to the ground, he was only feet away from the two men and had only the moonless night to thank for not being seen.

The younger man spoke, his voice cracking with emotion that he tried with great difficulty to restrain. “Yes, sir, I know but –”

The hoarse, callous voice of McNair interrupted, “You knew this when you came to me asking to become one of us, did you not?”

A sob escaped the young man’s throat. “I did, sir. But my - ”

“We have all made our sacrifices, De Luca. This won’t be your last.”

“No! No, I can’t… I can’t… my brother...” The young man collapsed to his knees and laid his hands and forehead on the mound before him.

“Your brother was weak, De Luca!” McNair hissed. “He will not be missed among our ranks.”

De Luca broke down into body wrenching sobs, clutching what Sirius could now see was not a mound of earth… but the lifeless body of this young man’s brother, a boy no more than eighteen years old.

“Then why didn’t you just let him go!?” De Luca cried out to the man towering over him, his voice raw. “He didn’t have to die!”

“Oh, but I am not the one who killed him,” McNair answered calculatingly. “I believe it was you who sent the curse. Was it not?”

De Luca’s face turned to stone in fury. “You made me do it! You said he’d been trained in the proper shielding spells! I would never use an unforgiveable curse against my own brother!!”

“But you did, didn’t you?” McNair replied impassively. “Any wizard who would kill his own brother will undoubtedly be of great use to the Dark Lord.”

“I will NEVER serve your Dark Lord and I will never serve you!” He lunged at McNair who, with a wave of his wand, sent De Luca’s body crashing into the side of the mountain. The young man crumpled the ground, groaning as he attempted to push himself back up and continue fighting.

From his nearby position, Padfoot rocked forward on his front paws. He shook as he fought against himself. His desire to attack was barely curbed by his sense that he should not yet reveal himself. If he made himself known and did not overpower McNair, he would be derailing the months of strategic planning that had been conducted prior to this mission.

He reluctantly remained still as he watched McNair approach DeLuca slowly, taunting him all the way. “My, my… I hope I didn’t make a mistake and choose the wrong brother. What a terribly ironic tragedy that would be.”

De Luca pushed himself up, leaning heavily against the wall in pain. He attempted to lift his wand against the older man but it was instantly expelled from his hand by McNair who pointed his own wand at the young man’s heart.

“What a shame,” McNair said without the slightest trace of sympathy. “First, your naiveté killed your own brother, and now your foolishness will kill you. I’ll be sure to explain this to your parents when they are forced to mourn the loss of both their children. That is, if they live that long.”

De Luca, his breathing ragged, mustered the final remnants of his strength, lifted his head and spat in McNair’s face.

McNair seethed. He furiously wiped the spit off of his face and, gripping his wand more tightly, retrained it on DeLuca’s chest.

He narrowed his eyes maliciously and uttered, “Avada Ke-”

He was suddenly thrown sideways when a large, black figure collided into him. His head smacked against the hard floor as he fell.

Padfoot leapt up again and raced over to DeLuca, transforming back into his human form mid-leap. “Run.” Sirius commanded him.

“Who- who are you?” De Luca flinched away in fear as Sirius approached him.

“Just get out of here. Take your brother’s body and run as far away as you can.”

De Luca nodded, his eyes wide with terror, and lurched forward, weak and sick with agony. He grasped for his wand, lifted his brother’s body and, with another horrified glance toward Sirius, apparated them both away.

“Do my eyes deceive me?” The cruel voice came from behind Sirius. Sirius whirled around to see McNair limping toward him, wand held high. “Why, Sirius Black. It has been years.”

Though weakened from lack of food, Sirius rose to his full height and released a feral growl. Pure hatred boiled from deep within him, aimed at the man whom he would always blame for his lifelong heartache. It was McNair who kept Sirius from Hermione’s side in that battle at Hogwarts so long ago and it was McNair whom Sirius would always believe responsible for the greatest loss he had ever known.

Sirius’ ears pricked, ready for the attack and a grim smile began to spread across his face. As he stared into the end of McNair’s wand, a terrifyingly gratified laugh rose in Sirius’ throat, halting McNair’s advance.

“What are you laughing at?” McNair hissed angrily.

At this, Sirius merely shook his head coolly. “I was thinking about how long I’ve been waiting for this moment and… that I am going to kill you.”

Damien McNair’s haughty repose waivered upon seeing the determination of his opponent. “If you were going to kill me,” He glanced around anxiously, “you would have by now.”

“You’re right, McNair.” Sirius nodded, almost casually. “But I assume that to kill you, I will have to first rid myself of the rest of your friends?” He flicked his wand in a tight circle in the air. “Homenum Revelio.”

At once, nearly a dozen of McNair’s death eaters were revealed, their Disillusionment charms cast off, forming a defensive wall around Sirius and McNair. Among them, a distraught-looking DeLuca, pointing a trembling wand at Sirius.

“I ask only one small, gracious favor of you all,” Sirius spoke to the group, not taking his eyes off McNair. “Don’t kill me until after I’ve killed him.”

The words were barely out of his mouth before the curses began to fly.

From miles away, unknowing citizens stopped and gazed in amazement at the beautiful and mysterious sparks soaring high into the night sky.


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Two Months Later.

Harry’s eyes traced over the final lines of the letter Hedwig had just delivered to him from his parents. From the sofa beside him, Ginny and Ron waited anxiously for him to report any news.

As he absorbed the last line of the message, he paled.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Harry clenched the parchment in his fist before handing it roughly to Ron who reached out for it eagerly.

“Still no word from Sirius,” Ron said solemnly while hastily scanning the missive. Coming to the end of the letter, he swallowed thickly.

“It’s been months now!” Ginny cried. Catching herself suddenly, she glanced around the Gryffindor common room and made sure they were alone. They were. Nonetheless, she leaned forward and spoke more discreetly, “Surely the Ministry has maintained some sort of communication. How can it be that no one has been in touch with him, Harry?”

Harry shook his head vaguely, his eyes distant. “Dad says Sirius cut off all contact for security purposes… no one at the Ministry has heard from him in weeks.”

“The Ministry can trace magic use though,” Ron pointed out, feeling rather helpless. “If he uses any really powerful spells, I’m sure they will be able to locate him.”

Ginny perched on the arm of Harry’s chair, taking his hand to comfort him. “Sirius is the best auror in the Ministry. I’m sure he’s fine.” But not even Ginny could find solace in her words.

Harry barely mustered a small smile of gratitude for her attempt at reassurance. “I just wish he’d contact us… just so we’d know he was alright.” Turning his attention across the room, Harry appraised Hermione, who appeared to be deeply engrossed in a book that she held propped on her knees. She’d been so still for so long he’d forgotten she was even in the room.

Harry passed a significant look from Ron and then to Ginny, all sharing a silent thought. There was still one person he hadn’t asked.

“Hermione?”

She blinked once and continued reading without acknowledging him.

“Hermione, have you heard from Sirius at all?”

Again, nothing.

“Hermione?!” He demanded in disbelief.

She glanced up at Harry with surprise, as though she’d forgotten her friends were there. “Yes, Harry?”

Harry gaped at her incredulously for a moment before he could speak. “Has Sirius contacted you at all? He has still not returned from the Ministry mission.”

Hermione looked back at Harry blankly.

“I told you about this six weeks ago,” He reminded her impatiently. “Well, he isn’t back yet Hermione. No one has spoken to him nor received any communication from him.”

Hermione licked her lips nervously.

“He’s stopped responding to messages… and as he was the only person with full access to the file, no one knows where exactly he might be,” Harry continued.

He had Hermione’s full attention now but he couldn’t stop. Her eyes were shining as she looked intently at him, drinking in his words. Her lips parted as her mouth opened in shock.

It was almost cathartic for Harry now as he found he was finally drawing a real reaction out of her, anything he could do to wake her up to what was happening.

He pushed on, forcing himself to speak aloud the unbearable message from home. “The Ministry is about to launch a full scale search, only, as far as they’re concerned it is a… ‘recovery mission’… because they don’t believe there’s any chance he’s still alive.”

For the briefest of seconds Hermione’s resolute stoicism faltered, her brow creased in worry as she bore her eyes into Harry’s begging for him to reveal this was false, a sick joke. She felt her body begin to go limp, her hands went slack. The large book she held slipped from her grasp, nearly crashing to the floor before she clumsily caught it again.

She forced her eyes shut and took in a deep breath. Begging herself to control the trembling shock that had overtaken her body, she slowly looked back up at Harry, who, at once could plainly see that she was retreating behind her emotionless wall once more.

“I’m… um… I’m afraid I can’t shed any light onto this situation for you, Harry.” Her voice wavered and hinted at the betrayal in her words. Her eyes were all avoidance and agony.

Harry shook his head disbelievingly. “Onto this situation?” He said angrily, his voice seeming much louder in the vast common room. “This situation!? I’m not studying for a Potions exam, Hermione, I’m afraid my godfather could be dead!”

Hermione fixed her gaze on a page in her book though she was clearly not reading a word in front of her. “I am sure you’ve no reason to worry, Harry,” She said robotically.

Harry was on his feet now. “All you had to say was that you hadn’t heard from him or shown just a little damned concern. That is all I asked.” He shook his head as he stared accusingly at the girl he used to be able to talk to about anything. “Merlin, Hermione, how can you be so cold?”

Hermione stiffened at his words. “Well,” she sniffed, “I’m sorry I can’t be more help.”

With that, she quickly stuffed her books into her satchel and heaved the bag’s strap onto her shoulder.

She turned to exit the common room but Harry clasped her elbow, holding her back. “Hermione, will you just stop running for a moment and speak to me!?” His eyes plead with her. But she couldn’t… she wouldn’t be able to speak about Sirius without Harry seeing… without them all knowing all the feelings she’d tried to bury deep within.

“I’m sorry, Harry.” She fixed her eyes on the floor in front of her, refusing to allow her gaze to meet her friends’ eyes. As she rapidly departed, a stunned Harry, Ron, and Ginny were left in her wake.

No sooner than the portrait had swung shut behind her, Hermione crumpled to the floor, gasping for breath as tortured sobs racked her fragile body. Her lungs seemed to refuse the air she drew in with great gasps.

The echo of footsteps approaching caught her attention.

Hermione pushed herself up and, bracing herself along the corridor wall, just barely rounded the corner before she sank once more to the ground and rocked herself back and forth as she lamented the loss of a love she would never be whole without.

“Hermione…”

She gasped and looked up to find Harry staring down at her, perplexed and concerned.

“Harry, please, just go. Please,” she implored him. Harry’s pity was more than she could handle at that moment. “Please go away…”

“No, I won’t,” he said with finality. “I am not going to pretend anymore that there is nothing wrong. I have given you all the space you’ve asked for for months and I haven’t questioned you, not once. But I will no longer stand by and do nothing while my best friend pulls away from everyone who cares about her. Not this time.”

Hermione was caught between the overwhelming devastation of Sirius’ loss and the unexpected comfort of Harry’s determined loyalty… there was so much she wanted to tell him and so much she couldn’t say. She shook her head, “Harry… I– ”

But Harry was determined to find out why she had been so tormented all these months.

“Hermione, I know there was something between you and Sirius during your time in the past… I know that you had… feelings for him and I realize that it can’t possibly be an easy thing for you to discuss-”

“No,” Hermione broke in suddenly. “I’m sorry, Harry, but I just can’t.” Stifling another sob, she stumbled to her feet and shakily ran a familiar path, along the corridor, down and down and down the stairs, until she burst from the main doors of the castle into the cool spring air.

And she didn’t stop.

She ran faster still into the darkness; past the Great Lake where the heavy mist dampened her skin, past the Quidditch pitch which was almost completely obscured in the moonless night, until she finally stopped… at the foot of the imposing wall of colossal trees marking the boundary of the Forbidden Forest. She stopped and she panted, falling to her knees, clutching her chest for breath.

She turned her face up to the sky and wished with every last fiber of her being that she could see Sirius once more… see that he was alive… happy and healthy.

“Lumos.” Harry’s voice was heard only seconds before his wand shone brightly in the vast open space. He trudged towards Hermione through the marshy grass along the lake shore.

Harry was right... She couldn't run any longer.

Hermione fell into his arms, her face pressed into his chest, a place where she had once wished so badly to be. Now, however, it was solely the comfort of friendship she yearned for from Harry... The feelings she once held for him were a distant memory in a past that no longer existed.

Now, it was her desire for Sirius that caused her angst and her friend, Harry, who was there to steady her.

The familiar scene sparked something in Hermione's memory and, despite herself, she laughed.

Harry, more confused than ever, pulled his head back and craned his neck to peer down at her. "Are you... laughing?"

She sniffed and wiped at her eyes, nodding sheepishly. "I just remembered a time when your mum comforted me just like this, over there..." Her eyes pinpointed the spot beside the lake where Lily had rocked her softly and calmed her. "What I ever would have done without the Potters is beyond me."

Harry smiled gently. "Well, we Potters are a noble breed, I suppose." Hermione smiled slightly at that but her eyes were still distant. His voice softened, "Hermione, what is it you're trying to run away from?"

She sighed. "I hardly know. I feel like I'll go mad if I sit still."

"Is it because of him, because of Sirius?" Harry tentatively broached the subject, hoping she wouldn't close herself off again.

She squeezed him more tightly and nodded, her face buried in his shoulder now. Flames of embarrassment and shame burned beneath her skin. "I'm so sorry, Harry."

"Sorry?! Hermione, why, in Merlin's name, would you be sorry?"

"Because I know how much he means to you and I am afraid that he's gone away because of me... Because he never wanted to see me again and I just had to go force my way back into his life instead of leaving him alone as he had wished!"

"Hermione, that's ridic-"

"If I had just done what he had asked and left him alone, you would not have to wonder whether or not your godfather was alive! I am so sorry for having been so selfish, Harry... Can I even begin to apologize for what I've done...?"

Harry pushed Hermione back by her shoulders and examined her face and all of its complexities. "Why do you keep apologizing? You know Sirius well enough to understand how he operates. A dangerous mission to him is like Christmas morning for a child. He lives for it and has always been that way. Surely you much know that?"

"I do."

"We are all worried," Harry said honestly. "But I'm not giving up yet and neither should you."

"I had just hoped that by being in the past, I could have changed the future for the better... And if Sirius is gone... Then, I'm not sure how much I accomplished."

"What was it like, Hermione? What was our time like before things changed? If you feel it needed changing then I am certain it was for the best."

Her breath caught in her throat. "I don't know if I can tell you that, Harry..."

"No more secrets, Hermione, please?"

She looked into Harry’s eyes, the eyes that were mirror images of his mother’s, and knew she couldn’t lie to him.

A long steadying breath prepared her to explain the world that she had once known.

“In our time, the night Voldemort came to Godric’s Hollow… ”

As the heartrending tale unfolded, Harry was anchored to Hermione’s every word… both horrified and captivated.

“…and that is when I was sent back in time. We were staying at Grimmauld Place since you had inherited it from - ”

“From Sirius… after he died…”

“Yes,” Hermione whispered, a stray tear escaping her eye as she relived each memory through Harry’s tortured reaction.

Harry was staggered. He stepped away from Hermione while he tried to imagine the unfathomable tragedy his life may have been.

“So… there is a chance that I may have never known my parents? Sirius would have spent twelve years in Azkaban? And Peter Pettigrew, who gave his life to save mine, was a traitor?”

“Yes.”

“Then how can you question whether or not you did the right thing, Hermione?”

“Because I couldn’t save him, Harry! I couldn’t save him too!” She cried, growing more and more frustrated that she was so completely helpless.

“It was not your fault that - ” Harry froze mid-sentence. He focused on something in the distance and slowly withdrew his wand.

“Harry, what…? She turned and saw a silvery jet of light moving rapidly towards them. Before she could finish her question, the silver figure slowed to a full stop before them.

It instantly transformed into a gleaming, silver stag, and it spoke, James’ voice emanating from the patronus.

“Hello Son. We’ve just arrived at St. Mungo’s, Tonk’s has gone into labor. We’ve asked permission for you to come to the hospital straight away. Hermione, Ron, and Ginny, as well. See you soon!”

The stag inclined its head regally and turned, sprinting back across the darkness.

The two friends were overwhelmed. The emotions still running high from their conversation now mixed with the thrilling news from home.

Harry’s eyes were alight with excitement. “Tonk’s is going to have the baby! Come on, let’s go tell Ron and Ginny! Oh… we should let my parents know we’ve gotten the message.” He was rambling in his rush to get back to the castle.

“I’ll do it.” Hermione said, smiling at Harry’s evident happiness for the Lupin’s. She raised her wand and waved it overhead. “Expecto Patronum!”

The smile evaporated from Hermione’s face though, and the breath caught in Harry’s throat, when the burst of metallic light was sent forth from her wand and began to take shape. In midair, the patronus’ silvery light expanded into the form of an unmistakable large, scruffy dog.

It looked directly at Hermione before leaping forward into the darkness and out of sight.

She and Harry looked at each other, mouths open in astonishment. And Harry finally knew the truth. She loved Sirius. She was in love with Sirius.


______________________________________________________________________________________________________________


In a dim corridor of St. Mungo’s Hospital, Lily and James Potter sat huddled together. Lily rested her head against her husband’s shoulder, a faint smile played across her lips, full of excitement for the Lupins.

James’ soft snores calmed her and her own eyelids began to droop.

“James,” a hoarse whisper began to wake the sleeping couple. “Lily.”

James reached up and straightened his glasses on his nose and opened his eyes to a blurry figure in front of him. “Sirius…? Is that…?”

Suddenly, the corridor was brilliantly illuminated, announcing the arrival of a patronus. James’ eyes blinked rapidly against the light. He tried to focus on the face in front of him, in disbelief, “Sirius?!” He and Lily both leapt to their feet.

James looked into the face of his best friend, thinking he must still be asleep. “Padfoot,” he shook his head in wonder. There were no other words, “Padfoot, old friend. You’re back.”

The two friends embraced. And Lily, shedding tears of pure joy, kissed Sirius on the cheek and hugged him tightly.

But none of them moved a muscle when the patronus that stopped before them was not Harry’s stag, as expected, but a familiar large dog.

James looked to Sirius. “It’s Padfoot?”

Sirius shrugged, equally as puzzled.

“Wait… listen,” Lily held up her hand to silence him and leaned in to hear the message from the canine patronus.

Hermione’s steady voice addressed them, “We will floo from Hogwarts straight away. Send our best to Remus and Tonks. See you shortly.”

James watched the Patronus disappear before him, mystified. He looked to Sirius and then to Lily, “But it was Padfoot… wasn’t it?”

Lily’s sober face nodded at him, knowingly.

“But how?” James asked.

They both turned to Sirius whose deep charcoal eyes were fixed upon the place where Hermione’s voice was heard coming from his own Patronus. His face stoic on appearance but his heart racing inside.

He looked up at James and Lily, realization dawning on his face. It wasn’t too late.


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Thank you all so much for reading!

If you'd like to share your thoughts, feelings, suggestions, curses, comments, etc... please feel free to leave me whatever words you would like to share.

Oh, and just because I'm curious, let me know what you thought of the Half-Blood Prince movie!! And, if you were to recast any of the roles, which would it be and which actor would you choose to play the role instead?