FIVE
JUNE 21st, 1995
Hermione woke up with her legs aching. Sirius’ arms will still wrapped around her. Her cheeks reddened and she made a small, uncomfortable noise. Sirius looked down at her and instantly let her go. His cheeks matched hers and he cleared his throat.
Sirius had moved them to the floor. After the overwhelming emotions receded, she had relaxed, curled up against him. He hadn’t the heart to moved her when she fell asleep. His breathing had matched hers while he watched her. Now that she was awake, uncomfortable feelings came rushing in for both of them.
Hermione moved off his lap and pulled her tangled hair back from her face. Her face was puffy and sticky and she could see the snot stains on Sirius’ shirt. She watched as he awkwardly got to his feet. His bones creaked under his skin. The twelve years in Azkaban had not left him untouched. He held out his hand to Hermione and he helped her stand shakily to her feet.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?” He asked, shoving his hands in his pockets. She gazed at him, trying to work out what would be safe to tell him.
“I’ve been in here before… or, I will be in a few years. The room was untouched when we- when I came in. And now it isn’t, so I don’t know what I’ve changed or how to fix it or if I’ve ruined everything…” She looked up at him and his mouth was set in a grim line, his brows contorted in confusion.
“Didn’t you come here to change something, though? Isn’t the whole point of you being here? To change something that happ-”
“I don’t know!” She cut him off, eyes blazing, “I don’t know why I am here! I don’t know how I’m here. Or who sent me! Or what I am meant to change!” She rubbed her hands over her face trying to find some semblance of clarity. Her hands pressed hard into her face, hiding her tightly clenched eyes. He yanked her arms away and bent down to look into her lowered eyes.
“Hermione, something has changed, because things are meant to change. Whatever it is, whatever happened, you can change it. We can change it. You don’t have to be alone in this. If you tell me I might be able to help you,” He tapped the bottom of her chin and she looked up at him, her eyes softening. “Remus too,” he added with a smile. She took another glance around the room. If her plan was to change things, maybe this would be a good place to start.
“Okay,” She murmured, looking up at the man in front of her. He had lines around his eyes, and his face was still thin from the years he spent in Azkaban. He was still strong though. He held her like no other person ever had. It was the first time she had felt truly safe since the Battle of Hogwarts. And she couldn’t deny how lovely it felt to be in his arms, even when she was in crisis. She pushed the thought from her head. This was Sirius. Harry’s godfather. He would only ever see her as the young teenager she was in his time.
“I think we should make this place as comfortable for you as we can,” Sirius declared, arms sweeping the room. He waved his wand and the dark duvet turned a soft beige and the dust vanished. He set out transfiguring the rest of the items in the room. Hermione watched as he continued working, admiring his talent. He created a pile of the papers on Regulus’ wall, including the pictures of him on the Slytherin team, and they balanced on the side table. Finally, he vanished the rug and grinned at her.
“Thank you, Sirius,” She smiled back at him, “You do transfiguration well.”
“James and I had top marks. We were even better than Moony,” He muttered, pride in his voice, “That’s how we got to be Animagi. We worked so hard and it only took the two of us two years…” He glanced at Hermione, sitting on the edge of the newly transfigured armchair. He had made it deep burgundy and plush, just like the ones in Gryffindor tower. She gazed at him sympathetically. Sirius tried not to look down her body, dressed in his oversized clothes. She looked weathered and rugged and strong and, fuck, beautiful. He swallowed roughly and turned away from her, opening the wardrobe. He had vanished the few items of clothing that were in there and knew Hermione would need new clothes soon. They would have to send Remus.
“I think we’ll have to send Remus for new clothes,” Hermione offered from the chair, eerily mirroring his thoughts. He turned to look at her, a smile playing on his lips. “We’ll ask him today,” Her eyes widened suddenly, “Oh, no! I don’t have any money!” He couldn’t help the loud, barking laugh at her worry.
“Don’t fret about that,” He gestured to the room, “You’re in the noble House of Black, and as I am the sole heir, you will be taken care of. Don’t worry.” She began to protest and he held up his hand, “Really, Hermione. Nothing would make me happier than spending my parent’s money.”
“What happened to make your parents so…”
“Evil? Cruel? Unkind? Pure?” He scoffed the last word, rolling his eyes, “It’s how they were raised, honestly. The House of Black has a long history of being, well… the worst. I mean look who we produced. Some of the most notorious Death Eaters of them all. I’m just hoping Dumbledore can find a way to keep the Dementors from picking their side again so they can all stay locked up on that fucking island.” To Sirius, his cousin escaping was the worst possible consequence of Voldemort’s supporters gaining traction in the wizarding community. Hermione couldn’t bear to look at him. Not with the knowledge that in about six months they would all be free again.
“Filth! Mongrel! Dirty half-breed! You shameful disgusting monster invading the noble and most ancient…” Walburga Black was screaming. Hermione jumped up beside Sirius, drawing her wand.
“Ah, that’ll be Moony.” Sirius walked to the landing, “You alone, Moony?” he called down the stairs.
“Ugh, YES!” Remus yelled over the screeching. “Shut UP you fucking cow-” Remus was struggling to pull the curtains closed as Sirius and Hermione bounded down the stairs. Sirius jumped to help and the two of them finally pulled them shut. Hermione giggled at her former professor’s swears.
“Hi, Remus. Nice to see you,” Hermione whispered, walking towards the kitchen. The two men followed her. Once they were inside and the door was shut, Remus pulled Sirius into a hug and then did the same to Hermione.
“I could have sworn that yesterday didn’t happen,”
“Well. Yeah, that’s what happens when you get fucking pissed, Moony,” Sirius laughed, falling into a chair. Hermione turned to the cupboard and started transfiguring the rest of the measly scraps into sandwiches.
“Remus,” Hermione said from where she was working with her wand, “I need you to go out and buy some things for us, if that’s okay?” She turned to look at him and he smiled.
“Of course, Hermione. Make me a list and I’ll go today.”
“Right-o, Moony, tell me what Dumbledore said,” Sirius conjured three butterbeers from the icebox.
“Well, mostly reiterated that you would have to stay here. And that we should cast a new Fidelis Charm with Dumbledore as the Secret Keeper,” Remus said, taking a long draw from his butterbeer. “He’s also had me reaching out to other people to start surveillance missions on known Voldemort sympathizers,” Hermione came over with sandwiches and sat down next to Remus. He turned and smiled kindly at her, green eyes twinkling. For the first time, Hermione noticed how his hair had not greyed significantly yet. She remembered that Sirius’ death would break him in a way he hadn’t been before. Hopefully, her being here could stop that from happening.
She conjured a quill and parchment from the study while she watched them eat. She sat out to make a list of things for him to buy.
“Fuck!” Sirius exclaimed, laughing loudly. She looked up, clearly missing part of the conversation, “I can’t believe I forgot about that!”
“Forgot about what?” Hermione asked, looking between the two of them.
“In 6th year,” Remus choked out between laughter, “Mary Macdonald sent him an owl saying he could sleep with her if he got up to her bedroom. So Sirius here decided to climb up the girl's dormitories as Padfoot so the stairs didn’t transfigure. Picture Mary and Sirius, mid-coitus, being interrupted by a very irate Lily Evans,” Remus could barely hold himself together, “Lily Bat-Bogey’d him and sent him sliding down the stairs completely naked in front of the Gryffindor Gobstones team that was practicing. He fell into their game and got, got…” Remus was howling, doubled over.
“The gunk spewed me in the dick,” Sirius finished for Remus, deadpan, corners of his mouth twitching. Hermione couldn’t help bursting into laughter at the contrite look on Sirius’ face.
“And then, and then…” Remus sputtered, “James grabbed McKinnon’s camera-”
“There’s a picture?!” Hermione gasped, “Tell me it still exists!”
“It is kept in a very safe place,” Sirius muttered, downing the rest of his butterbeer and summoning another. Remus grasped Hermione’s arm as he tried to regain composure. He leaned in close to Hermione, trying to stifle the small, leftover bursts of laughter and whispered, “It’s a magical picture, Hermione. It moves!” Hermione snorted, trying not to giggle. Remus’ breath tickled her ear as he lost it again.
“Alright, alright,” Sirius chided, though amusement danced behind his dark grey eyes. “Watch it. I can tell some pretty interesting stories about you, Professor Lupin,” Sirius was teasing, but Remus stiffened anyway, worried about whatever story was going to come. He remembered that Hermione was his student merely a year ago. But this Hermione was still giggling at the thought of Sirius’ dick being covered in Gobstones gunk. It was definitely hard to reconcile the two in his mind.
Remus finally quieted his laughs and took the list from Hermione. As he read through it, Sirius pressed a bag of gold in his hand. Remus grimaced, embarrassed to take money from his friend, knowing Sirius wouldn’t let him give back any change.
“I feel the same way,” Hermione muttered to him, leaning her chin on her hands. Remus smiled kindly at her and tucked the bag into his robes. “But I just want some clean clothes. I put my measurements on the list, did you see?” Remus nodded at her, sending his empty butterbeer bottle to the rubbish bin.
“So, do you want to just jump right in, Hermione?” Sirius blurted. Remus sighed, shaking his head at his friend’s utter lack of social prowess.
Hermione blanched, looking between the two of them, “I don’t really know where to start.”
“Well, wherever you feel comfortable.,” Remus smiled at her, reassuringly
“Alright. I think am here to make sure that the future I came from doesn’t happen. So let’s try to do that. In three days time Harry will win the Triwizard Tournament,” the two men raised their eyebrows as Hermione continued, “The cup is a Portkey. It will take him to a graveyard and in the graveyard Peter Pettigrew-”
“That fucking rat,” Sirius snarled.
“-will help Lord Voldemort to rise again,” Hermione paused, waiting for a reaction. Remus gasped, eyes widening. Sirius stood, swearing, and ran his hands through his long hair.
“We have to tell Dumbledore,” Remus declared.
Sirius was pacing, “What happens in the graveyard? What happens to Harry?”
Hermione looked between the two of them and sighed, “Sirius, Harry will watch Cedric Diggory die. He will duel Voldemort. But he will live. Voldemort uses some type of potion to get his body back. And Remus, yes. I think that it is likely that we will have to tell Dumbledore.”
“So, fucking Voldemort comes back…” Sirius growled, “That means there will be another fucking war.” Hermione nodded. “Dumbledore must have known it was coming. He’s been gearing up for something like this for months.
“Do we win the war?” asked Remus, sharply. Hermione nodded again. “And… what are our losses?” Hermione closed her eyes, the rows of dead so easily remembered.
“Substantial.”
“Then let us make sure that doesn’t fucking happen!” Sirius yelled. “We have to stop Harry from winning, from ending up in that graveyard!” He stood again. Both he and Remus had gone pale. The last war had taken everything from both of them. The threat of Voldemort’s return was affecting them both. Remus knew Dumbledore would ask him to assimilate with the werewolves. Sirius knew he would be stuck in this goddamn house while the war raged around him once more.
“Let’s owl him then,” Hermione said softly.
“You’re sure?” Remus could feel her heart racing through the palm of her hand.
“Yes. If you think it’s something we should stop, owl him.”
Sirius conjured parchment and a quill and sat down once more. “Should I tell him about you?”
“I’m worried about interception, Padfoot,” Remus offered, “Maybe just allude, we can explain in person.”
Hermione was shaking. She hoped this was the right move. Last night she had decided to disclose this one thing. She squeezed Remus’ hand tighter and found solace in the rough skin she felt. They were going to make it through this war. They had to. Sirius was yelling at the two of them about what to put in the owl.
“Tell me everything that happens. Who dies? Do I? Does Remus? Harry?”
“I can’t tell you, Sirius-” She told him. He opened his mouth to protest angrily and she held up her hand. To all three of their surprise, he stopped talking, “Don’t,” she spat out at him. Sirius took several deep, shaking breaths. His grey eyes were fierce and shining. Finally, he nodded, turning back to the parchment.
“I should go,” Remus murmured once the owl was sent, “I’ll come back in a few hours with your things. Hopefully before Dumbledore gets in.”
“Great,” Sirius grumbled, “See you later, Moony.” Hermione and Sirius followed Remus to the front door so he could apparate off the top step. “You should eat your sandwich, Hermione,” Sirius said as they both walked back to the kitchen. He sat and pushed the plate towards her, his mouth set in a line. Hermione sighed, sitting next to him.
“I’m not particularly hungry,” she said, taking a deep swig of her butterbeer, sending the plate back to him.
“You haven’t eaten a single fucking thing since you’ve been here and you need to,” Sirius hissed, picking the plate up and planting it roughly in front of her, “I mean it. You never know how long you’ll be in one place and you should eat while it’s here,” His eyes were fierce and Hermione could tell this was not something to fight with him about. He was pissed about Voldemort, and she conceded, knowing it would make him feel at least a little bit better.
“Alright. I’m sorry. I just...” She pulled the food towards her and started eating. “I feel like I could be sick at any moment with everything hanging over me.”
“So just tell me,” Sirius begged her. There were more secrets, obviously ones so great that it forced Hermione back ten years. Secrets about her forging through the war that was coming. He just wanted to help her.
“Sirius, I can’t!” She didn’t say more and they sat in silence while she finished her sandwich. He continued glowering at her.
Hermione sighed and said, “I’m here to stop terrible things, really terrible things from happening,” She shivered, recalling the bright red blood of a mortal Voldemort staining the castle floor. “But if I tell you now, there is a chance that it could be so much worse than the future I came from. And I cannot risk that.” Her voice rose at the end, forceful and unfaltering. Sirius could see the hard edges of this witch, that she was not a person to be messed with. He knew this, of course, with how quick she was when it came to drawing her wand. But now, even while wandless, magic seemed to spark in the air around her. “Please let's just wait for Dumbledore.”
He wanted to retort back, but it didn’t seem like he should fight a losing battle. She wasn’t going to tell him everything. He would just have to be okay with that for now.